An Update

The Mystery of the Microwaved Penis (TM) has been solved.

I can only hope this will help those of you most affected by this story sleep more soundly. I know I will.

A Call to Action

"Ultraviolet will be studied with great interest in the future - not for its quality or its artistic merit, but rather to discover how a turd like this was made."
-- Kevin Carr, 7M PICTURES

Last night, I went to an Oscar party. I know, I couldn’t quite believe it myself, but I really didn’t have a legitimate excuse not to attend, and there was supposed to be sushi. So, grabbed a bottle of wine, a bottle of sake, and a bottle of scotch and made my way to Penny’s house to watch a group of overpaid, under-talented hacks swish around in $180,000 dresses and tuxedos and give each other accolades as if the services they offer to the world really matter one tiny little bit. It was disguisting, and I grew more nauseous with each montage. Being as there was a montage about every three minutes, it wasn’t long before I had to leave the room. But I was torn.



I had the choice of staying the room with John Stewart desparately trying to make a career out of deadpan humor, or go into the kitchen and listen to pretentious wine girl. (Sorry Arland, I thought she was nice, and I respect the fact that it’s difficult to disconnect oneself from what you do, but she came off as a pretentious wine ass.) Do I go back to the living room and watch another montage, and then listen to John Stewart make another joke about another montage, or do I go into the kitchen and listen to ostentatious wine lady talk about wine that smells like airplane glue?

I went to the backyard.

"Wimmer [director of Ultraviolet] is so brazen that he doesn't even bother to pretend that there's an original concept here: all his ideas are borrowed from other movies that borrowed from other movies that borrowed from The Matrix, and he doesn't care who knows it."
-- MaryAnn Johanson, FLICK FILOSOPHER

There was a time when I really enjoyed the Oscars, although I really couldn’t tell you why. The pomp of the awards has always been a standard, but for some reason, there was a time when it did not affect me so much. I still remember the last Oscars ceremony I watched on purpose, in its entirety. The year was 1994, and there was no question in my mind that Shawshank Redemption would walk away with the best picture prize and Morgan Freeman would win best actor for his role in the film. But when the Hollywood Hogwash ™ that was Forrest Gump was handed those coveted trophies, I was heartbroken.

"The bad guys [in Ultraviolet] stride through spotless corridors in buildings where weirdly calm disembodied female voices say things like "Switching to emergency backup lighting system." If only I could have found the button for the emergency back-up better movie system."
-- Nell Minow, MOVIE MOM AT YAHOO! MOVIES

Well into the ceremonies, having successfully avoided them for several hours, the sushi finally arrived. Arland and I realized that there was probably not enough to feed all of us, so Arland has the bright idea of going down the street to the sports bar and getting some nachos. If you’ve never had the nachos from The Scoreboard, you have not tasted nachos. Needless to say, the plan was a go.

We trekked down the street the couple of blocks to the bar, all the while complaining about the tripe that’s been spewing from Tinseltown for the last ten years, and me promulgating my own theory that Hollywood has officially run out of ideas.



The anxiety of it all was just beginning to wash away, like the mud off Andy Dufresne’s body when he finally escapes Shawshank, and then we entered the bar. Seventeen televisions, three of which were over 47 inches, staring me down with images of this crowd of self-important miscreants clapping for the winner for Best Picture, Crash.

My friend Arland went into a bit of a fit, being as Crash was the only one of the nominated movies he’d actually seen, a film which he described as, “craaaaaaaaaaap-uh.” The guy sitting at the bar next to turned and said, “I never saw that movie. I didn’t think it looked very good. I thought it was, like, an action movie like that movie with the bus.”

“Speed?” I asked.

“Yeah, dass right. Man that was an awesome movie.” He replied.

It was then that I told Arland that I was looking forward to the news reports on Monday morning, the same reports we’ve seen every Monday morning following the Oscars since 1998, that once again, the rating are down. I always found it so amusing that each year, the Oscars got longer, and fewer people watched them.

This year was only a slight exception: They weren’t much longer, but fewer people than ever tuned in.

"The violence [in Ultraviolet] is presented in such a childish fashion, that it has all the impact of a Pokemon battle."
-- Joshua Tyler, CINEMABLEND.COM

Okay, so it’s time to get real.

Kyle Smith wrote an article for the Wall Street Journal entitled, “The Real History of the Olympics, and Why They Should Come to an End." In the article, Smith makes the point that the modern Olympic games were originally and specifically intended to prevent armed conflict in the world, allowing nations to meet their best against the best of their rivals. This, of course, is complete bullshit, as the Olympics has done nothing to limit armed conflict, and in fact has only provided another forum for national rivalries to be agitated.



Smith states that the Olympic games are, at best, zero-sum, filled with scandal, intimidation and poor sportsmanship from front to back. To make matters worse, the television ratings for Olympic events has dropped each and every year for the last sixteen. His solution: cancel the games. They do more to promote national rivalries than quell them, and nobody watches them anyway. And seriously, does anyone really think curling is an Olympic sport?

I would like to take this idea even further, a task with which I feel entirely comfortable because Kyle Smith, the author of the above-mentioned article, is actually a movie critic for the New York Post. The ceremonies are rife with corruption, nepotism, negativity, childish rivalry and misguided political and social activism. No one watches anymore, and no one cares. In order to promote a more harmonious movie-going public, I implore you, Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, please cancel the Oscars.

"[Ultraviolet is] an unholy combination of comic book and video game,...so awful that you'd swear it had been directed by Uwe Boll."
-- Frank Swietek, ONE GUY'S OPINION

Also, in a related action, if you would like to sign the petition to ask Uwe Boll to never direct another film ever again, please do so here.