Can you guess what movie or TV show we’re watching? We’ve turned on subtitles (when available) not to give you a clue, but to enhance that WTF effect! Leave your best guess in the comments to prove your true Flick Attackosity!
All posts by Rod Lott
National Lampoon’s TV: The Movie (2006)
What do you get when you take most of the cast of Jackass franchise, but remove Johnny Knoxville, Spike Jonze, Jeff Tremaine and the backing of MTV and Paramount Pictures from the equation? Absolutely zero laughs, judging by National Lampoon’s TV: The Movie.
Partly written and produced by Preston Lacy, who’s like Chris Farley minus comedic timing, TV: The Movie also stars his fellow Jackass asses Steve-O, Jason “Wee Man” Acuna, Chris Pontius and Ehren McGhehey, plus real actors Clifton Collins Jr., Lee Majors, Judd Nelson, Tony Cox, Danny Trejo and Ian Somerhalder, all of whom I’m going to just assume were bribed.
The Kentucky Fried Movie wannabe presents one unfunny sketch after another, with a mix of show and commercial parodies. Among the “targets” are Cops, Fear Factor, Miami Vice, Desperate Housewives and Girls Gone Wild. Among the elements used often to spoof such things: purported jokes built upon drugs, masturbation, homophobia and the word “motherfucker.”
I’m on record admitting to laughing a few times at another recent Lampoon loser, National Lampoon’s Dirty Movie, which plays like Billy Wilder by comparison. At one point, my DVD player kicked out this disc because of a damaged section, which I should’ve taken as a sign. Even technology hates worthless shit. If you find it funny, you’re likely high or living off Jackass royalties, in which case you’re likely high. —Rod Lott
Superchick (1973)
I knew I was going to dig Superchick once the opening credits read, “Norman Bartold as old policeman.” But, yeah, the sight of Joyce Jillson strutting down an airplane terminal in black hot pants and fuck-me boots, all to a swingin’ soundtrack, sure didn’t hurt. (In fact, it felt good.) Neither did the sight of Thomas Gainsborough’s The Blue Boy, accompanied by a toilet flush, suggesting that high art, this ain’t, so take it or leave it. I’ll take it!
Peyton Place refugee and eventual kook astrologer Jillson essays the role of Tara B. True, a stewardess — yes, back when they were called “stewardesses,” not “flight attendants,” because they said things like, “Coffee, tea or me?” — who’s quite a liberated gal, juggling three lovers in three cities. She’s faithful to all, not counting the lucky dudes she spontaneously inducts into the mile-high club.
One of those is a Marine she nails in the lavatory just to serve her country; the soldier stands at attention. Tara’s the kind of woman who coos threats like, “Last one in bed … gets no head.” She’s a fun girl. And she should be, because Superchick is essentially plotless, no matter how hard it tries to venture into mob territory.
In the loose framework of the film, Tara visits a porn set (where luscious Uschi Digard is fully on display); tokes up at a pot party; kung-fus a biker gang intent on a gang bang; screws a composer inside a piano, twice; chains John Carradine to a wall; loses her bikini bottom in the ocean, leading to some saltwater lovin’; and, finally, foils some hijackers, whereupon her blouse pops open for the TV cameras. You’re cleared for takeoff! —Rod Lott
Madcap Screencaps #14
Five Days (2007)
Even the most die-hard of armchair sleuths would be intimidated by a 300-minute mystery. While your schedule and your ass may be unable to take Five Days all in one sitting, your mind and your curiosity will want to. A production of the great BBC, the Gwyneth Hughes-penned miniseries is comprised of five one-hour episodes, each depicting a single day in the aftermath of a crime.
That crime is the sudden, shocking disappearance and presumed murder of Leanne Wellings (Christine Tremarco), a twice-married mother of three who vanishes while buying flowers from a roadside vendor, leaving her two youngest children waiting in the car. The kids make their way toward home, but they, too, are soon missing.
Hot-tempered husband/father Matt (David Oyelowo) is torn up at the prospect of losing his entire immediate family, while also considered a possible suspect by the authorities leading the investigation (Hugh Bonneville and Janet McTeer). Their widening net weaves in encounters with journalists, a potential pedophile, a nursing home resident (Edward Woodward) and one horny young woman (Sarah Smart) with a secret.
While full of twists and revelations, Hughes’ screenplay doesn’t ignore characterization, and there are plenty of people you get to know in that amount of time. The day-an-episode structure could be a gimmick, but she smartly avoids that, mostly in making those days not consecutive, which heightens the drama and asks viewers to fill in part of what happened in the time that elapsed. A second season, with a new story and characters, has yet to play the States. —Rod Lott