Regular raincoaster fans (an irregular bunch, for sure) are well aware that around these parts (these ones right…here, to be specific) we recognize no gods; none but Cthulhu and Christopher Walken.
Mr Walken’s thespian skills are indisputed, but perhaps fans are less familiar with his amazingly powerful prose reading ability. Regular raincoaster readers will be familiar with his astonishing reading of The Three Little Pigs; new readers are welcome to click through and review before moving on to the new material.
You’ve got ONE day, Vangroover. Contest ends tomorrow.
What are you doing sitting at home when you could be at the Vancouver International Film Festival, watching movies that the nasty greedheads you know and love from Entourage never got their filthy paws on? How can you be there? Easy:
You win my contest, you get tickets. Two tickets to one of these films FOUR tix to the film of your choice. (not includig galas, not including sold out performances, not including getting the star’s phone number; you’re on your own for getting those) Simple, right?
How do you enter? You leave a tasteless joke in the Comments section right here, preferably a tasteless Hollywood joke. Or, if you can’t think of or Google a tasteless joke that nobody else has told yet, you can just leave a plain old vanilla comment. But tasteless jokes get automatic priority in my completely slanted system. Tasteless jokes featuring Cthulhu count triple!
We’re talking The Agony and the Ecstasy of Phil Spector. Who doesn’t want to know what twisted, murderous mania lurks under that hideous fright wig? A man who is capable of convincing himself that THAT looks good is capable of anything.
(sorry, the Beeb took down the trailer and it’s not on YouTube yet. You KNOW what you must do, little soldiers)
We’re talking Beyond the Game, World of Warcraft made actually interesting for non-WoWers. I just want to see if this can be done in the first place, really.
We’re talking…hell, just READ this:
Empire State Building Murders (France,
73 min.) <EMPIR>William Karel (The World According
to Bush) has created something entirely
new. He’s “mixed” scenes from more than 50 classic
film noir and recruited the very much alive
Kirk Douglas, Lauren Bacall, Mickey Rooney and
Cyd Charisse to play along from the point of view
of today, adding whole new layers of meaning.
Ben Gazarra leads us through this seductive maze.
I dunno about you, but frankly Ben Gazarra can lead me through a seductive maze any time. It’s Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid meets … well, every film referenced in Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid. Trailer is here: Empire State Building Murders
and we are talking about The Great Contemporary Art Bubble, which is basically every story John Richardson ever wrote for Vanity Fair magazine, in documentary format. Watch Damien Hurst sell dead critters for more digits than you’re accountant has ever seen! Watch ostentatious Eurotrash frenemies air kiss in Monte Carlo auction houses! Watch…the auction audience, trying to spot the prostitutes.
Let the Great Tasteless Joke Contest for Vancouver International Film Festival Tickets begin!
Just how much was she the mistress of desire, and how much a mere meat puppet?
We’ve stared at her photos for so many decades, looked into those eyes and perceived so many countless life-affirming fantasies. We’ve assigned to her superhuman attributes on the basis of a consistently and profoundly confidant photographic demeanor. Given the brutal facts of her post-pinup life, we’re left to wonder whether we can still sustain the precious illusion…
It takes very little introspection to arrive at one of the primary reasons for Bettie Page’s appeal. Her image, as silently projected through thousands of photos (and even a few hundred yards of film), creates a personal illusion for each and every one of us. The mystery is almost sacred. We have no idea who she is, yet each of us feels as though she’s a personal friend. We are convinced her smile is genuine. We are assured that her grimace is a put-on.
Have you ever wondered (and if so, were you sober enough to remember it the next morning) what the James Bond movies would be like if they starred, instead of Connery, Brosnan, et al hunkish cohorts, someone whose appeal was not simply the way they fill out a debonair DJ? Someone more cerebral…someone whose appeal is that romantic touchstone, “He makes me laugh”?
Someone like Abbott and Costello?
No, huh? Oh, FINE, here then. Don’t say I never did nuthin’ for ya.
raincoaster 