Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Cyrus Thompson Meets His Creator...And Guess Which One Of Us Is Humbled...


Troy Hickman stands beside the Cyrus Thompson statue in Kings Row (City of Heroes online game), and gets something in his eye...no, really, that's all it is...

Thursday, December 6, 2007

Four Poster Bad

Today we launch a new feature here at SUETO (sweet-o?) called "Four Poster Bad," in which I show you...uh...four movie...uh, posters...that are bad. If you buy the premise, you'll buy the bit.


The first one here is from that classic bit of 80s dreck, The Buddy System. I don't remember the plot, exactly, thought I think it had something to do with a truant officer who goes after a kid and somehow gets romantically involved with his single mom. Ya gotta love Hollywood. Or, maybe hate it. Anyway, this poster is notable for its giant faces of stars Richard Dreyfuss and Susan Sarandon, about to liplock each other. The most interesting aspect for me, though, is not the three inch tall child trapped between their respective craniums, but the true sexlessness of the way the two celebs are depicted. Maybe they should've called this "The Eunuch System."

I can just imagine the jackass who crafted this poster saying "Now, that'll put asses in seats! Everybody will be saying 'Will they ever get to finish that kiss' or 'Why is that tiny child trying to thwart true romance?' Everyone from eight to eighty will be lined up at the theaters!"




And then came Bronson. In this one, he plays a guy who
goes around killing people for revenge. It was truly a breakout role for him, unlike his other cinematic performances as ballet dancers and male models. Ya gotta love Bronson, especially in his later days. He was able to take a face like a plate of beef jerky and make relative stardom out of it. Here's a bit of the cutting edge dialog:

Rhiana Hidalgo: What are you going to do?
Holland: I'm gonna rattle his cage. And when he sticks his neck out, I'll nail him.

I love a metaphor salad. Anyway, my favorite part of the poster is the tagline under the title, which reads "It's 1984, and Bronson's never been hotter!" Ya gotta love a movie poster that actually charts its actors' star power. I'd love to see one that says "It's 1995, and Justine Bateman can't BUY a leading role!"

I just wish Chuck had lived long enough to make "Charles Bronson's Wuthering Heights"...



There's so much you could say about the Rick Springfield vehicle "Hard to Hold." I think the text on the poster says it all, though:

He's a rock star on a roll.

She's more into traditional music.

He wants the spotlight.

She wants the quiet life.


He lives for freedom and excitement.

She wants a commitment.


They're as different as two people could be...and as much in love.


Amen.





Italian director Lucio Fulci has directed some pretty cool films (such as the classic Zombi), but this flick, originally entitled "Manhattan Baby" (try selling that title to people stalking the video store looking for bloody horror) was not exactly a high point in his career. Even worse is the movie poster, which...well, hell, let's examine this. It's a woman standing in front of a pyramid in a see-through nightie. Well, ok, I guess some people really cover a distance when they sleepwalk, sure. But then around her are these spectral figures (who sort of have the faces of bulldogs) that don't seem to want to harm her so much as...well...they just look constipated. Is there a shortage of bran cereal in the netherworld?

I love the tagline "It's looking at you...from Hell!" Ooooh, scary. Hey, if all it can do from Hell is look at me, whoopty-freakin-doo. Heck, if I knew something was watching me from the underworld, I'd have a hard time not mooning 'em. Looky here, Satan-spawn! It's Hickman's big white hinder!



Anyway, that's it for now. Tune in next time for more...Four Poster Bad!

Monday, December 3, 2007

Big Ol' Jed Had a Rhino...

Pretty soon I'm going to have to board a plane for Vancouver, and while I can't wait to get there, I don't look forward to the flight. Here are just a few of the things I hate about flying:

Departure times - There never seems to be a good one. Most of the time, I end up leaving Indy at 6am or somesuch. Why the hell is that? Do we have to sneak into the Vancouver airport under cover of dawn? I realize this is Indiana and all, but does that mean we're on the same "early to rise" schedule as the Clampett family? And why do they tell me to be at the airport two hours ahead of time when it usually takes me all of twenty minutes to get from the airport entrance, through all the security, to my gate?

Waiting at the gate - Because they've warned me to get there two hours ahead, I usually have about 90 minutes of time to fill while I wait to board. That's a lot of time to kill in a place with not much more than a news stand and a bathroom. There is a small arcade room, and I usually kill a couple of bucks and half an hour playing an archaic golf game (I think Nicklaus was a rookie when they made this thing). I bring an ipod with me (thanks, honey) and that keeps me occupied for a bit as I get caught up on my podcasts (most of them involve politics, wrestling, movies, or City of Heroes). I have to be careful about sitting down, though; since it's so early and I've usually gotten no sleep, if I'm not careful I could sleep through the boarding of my flight.
The Look - When I board the plane, I've very cognizant of the people already in their seats. While walking down the aisle, I tend to count the rows from where I'm at so I can guestimate where I'm sitting. When I finally get to my seat, I hate seeing the person already sitting in my row making that "oh, god, he's sitting next to me" face. Between my broadness and my somewhat bikery looks, I guess I'm not most folks' first choice for a person with whom to share a five hour flight. Just for the hell of it, I ought to bring a book with me entitled "Living with Leprosy."

Legroom (or the lack thereof) - Look, unless you pay the extra $$$ for the "plus" accomodations (or whatever they call that extra six inches of room), you're packed in like fans at a Who concert, and you feel just about that safe. I always sit next to the window so that I at least don't have to get up to let people go to the bathroom.


The Flight - Because I usually go Indy -Chicago - Vancouver, the long leg of the flight runs at least 4 hours. Now, that might be nothing compared to a New Zealand flight or something, but it's still one hell of a long time for someone like me to sit in one spot. I get bored. Oh, so terribly bored. If I'm lucky, I can sleep through part of it, but that usually only takes up about a cumulative hour. Then I have to pray that the in-flight movie is something I can hack. Fat chance, though. If my choices are, say, "Superbad," "Spider-Man 3," "Die Hard 4" and "Stella's Waiting to Exhale Fried Steel Magnolias," what movie do you think my flight is going to feature? Almost every movie I've ever been offered on a plane features either Julie Roberts, Nicole Kidman, or Sandra Bullock. I find myself being overjoyed when it ends up being some animated kids movie. The best part is that United, which I usually fly, features a sitcom or two after the movie, and it's usually The Office.


Waiting to get off the plane - What the hell is the problem? It shouldn't take half an hour to get my ass off a runway. And the folks getting their overhead stuff down...cripes! First of all, how much crap do you need to carry on? I see people bring on four items, then never once go to those parcels during the flight. There's such a thing as checked luggage, you know! I carry one small DVD player bag with me that has all my stuff in it (ipod, medicines, paper, pens, itinerary, etc.). It's small enough to fit under my seat, so I don't have to piss around with the overhead storage when it's time to...GET OFF THE @#$% PLANE!!!
I'll endure it all, though, every godforsaken moment of it, because the treasure at the end of it is worth any amount of struggle...