With the editorial assistance and excellence of the one and only Geoffman Stevens, I now proudly present for you, [insert viewer name here], my new Hosting/On-Camera Reel. In the last few years I have hosted co-hosted, appeared on or taken part in several TV and internet-based programs. With varying degrees of hilarity, success and failure. Which is par for the mini-golf course that is working in entertainment. Here you’ll see a nice 7 minute cross-section and representation of some of those shows. I hope you enjoy and consider working with me on [insert your project name here]. Or at least not having to look away from me next time we pass each other in the hall at school.
We all have plenty of regrets. Of the ten thousand and fifty three I own up to, and am comfortable living with, one still irks me to this day, for two reasons; I cine-blocked my mom from watching the rest of a great movie; and I deprived myself of a love could have blossomed well before my college years (no need to cast a bad guy in the movie version of my life, I got the “My Own Worst Enemy” thing down pat). Fortunately I was able to undergo some therapy on the subject of one Miss Ellen Ripley recently in the form of my latest entry for the AMC Movie Blog. And while I’ve detailed time and again how “Aliens” is one of my favorite movies of all-time, that doesn’t quite forgive what happened back in Aigust of ‘86. To think about how much more I could have learned, felt and experienced had I just sacked up and watched the 2nd half of the movie with my mom, instead of tucking my tail between my chubby legs and heading home. Shame on you, 12-year old Nick. You could have embraced Ripley’s action babeage long before college. But that’s how we deal with mistakes and regrets; we blog. And freeze-frame on Ripley in her hyper-sleep pod nighty and imagine what it would have been like to see that as a pre-teen. So spacelicious.
Recently for the AMC Movie Blog (where my “column” runs every other Wednesday and nice people allow me to expound on my ridiculous cinematic tastes, loves and obsessions) I expounded on a movie I’m not sure many of you have seen. A movie that some of you have never even heard of. A movie I’ve even heard some people say they didn’t get, or didn’t like. Which made me upset. Almost ashamed to be a fan of movies. To be an American. It’s a movie that, given its concept, might have lead people to believe it was going to be headier, thinking-man’s action. Especially when you realize the budget was so big. But this is B-movies dressed inA-cinema clothes with a fancy Hollywood pedigree…one of my favorite kinds. This movie begins by tilting the Absurd-o-Meter, then pushing it to 11, then going deeper than the mighty ocean it claims as a setting. DEEP BLUE SEA is such a wonderfully bad movie, such a guilty pleasure, such a great example of (what I hope was) a bunch of talented people having a great time turning crap into entertainment, that I love it. LOVE IT. It’s high up on my “Whenever I Pass By It On Cable I Have To Stop What I’m Doing And Watch The Damn Thing” list, and, just on premise alone, firmly-entrenched on my Top 10 list of “So Bad It’s Good” movies. It’s like one of those fancy, gourmet, overpriced cheeseburgers you see on menus of some restaurants now; sure it may be made from higher quality ingredients, and plenty of time might have been spent on it, but at day’s end we know it;’s bad for us and that it’s core it’s still a friggin’ cheeseburger. Which we know and still keep going back for more of. Well, DEEP BLUE SEA is one of the best cine-burgers in recent memory. And the (*spoiler alert!*) Sam Jackson death scene? Greatest on-screen Disco Fries ever.
If you haven’t heard of The Walking Dead, it’s a TV show from the fine folks at AMC adapted from the comic written by Robert Kirkman. I have two fears: zombies and drawing horses, but the show’s promo poster was such a striking image that I had to brave them both.
Not just being a company man…I’m enjoying me some end of the world goodness with AMC’s “The Walking Dead”, and I know I’m not the only one (take a look at the cover of EW this week). I don’t usually dig on zombies, but the show’s awfully well done, and save The Majestic I’ll watch just about anything from Frank Darabont. Also I love oddball pop-style fan art. Much like my enjoyment of a show about things I don’t like/mortally fear I can’t really explain it. It’s like a peanut butter & pickles sandwich; I just like it. It just works for me. So, we have pop-styled fan art about a zombie TV show that somehow makes the show seem way less depressing, frightening and apocalyptic than it really is. Bravo, everyone. Nice work on the floor today. Great hustle.
Such a sad pencil-drawn cowboy on horse :(
TOP GUN is one of everyone’s favorite movies. Really, everyone who sees it loves it. Did when you first watched it, whether 1986 or last week. And invariably, for the nostalgia or the fight scenes or the quotability or the bromoerotica, you still hold it near and dear to your movie-heart. I make the point, in my latest AMC Movie Blog entry, that TOP GUN might be the definitive 80’s movie. It has everything we loved and have come to expect about 80’s movies, from bratty adolescent behavior and angst-fueled rebellion to a blond douchebag who constantly antagonizes our lead (The Zabka Factor) and, of course, Tom Cruise, before we all thought he ruled over Crazytown from high atop Mount Saint Nutbag. All that’s missing from TOP GUN to round out the Totally 80’s-ness is legwarmers and a dance-off. Like, for reals, TOP GUN totally has lock on and tone on being the ultimate 80’s movie.
Not exactly the kind of picture you’d expect to see in a blog mostly dedicated to the kind of overgrown adolescence I create for a living, but there’s a method to the madness - for AMC’s “Can’t Get Enough Mad Max” Week I wrote how Tina Turner’s Aunty Entity from “Beyond Thunderdome” stole the movie, and that Hollywood needs more singers turned supervillainesses. And these three - Pink, Rihanna and The Gaga - are my top choices to make the jump from stage to screen, from musician to movie madwoman. I mean, really, Lady Gaga is already kind of a supervillain already (as “reported” so brilliantly by The Onion a while back).
For those of you in the like, or the super-like, as I am with action movies, I thought you might get a kick out of my latest column on the AMC Movie Blog. It’s called “Trickle Down Actionomics” and deals with the effect and influence the character of “Dirty” Harry Callahan had on action heroes of the 80’s.
Pretty fun to write. The research, and accompanying research snacks, were all rather enjoyable to ingest. I was kinda psyched to see that the mothership of movie stats, quotes, blogs, talk & more, IMDB, picked up the piece and ran with it today under their “Hit List” section. Well, see there! All that time spent “researching” has paid off a little bit. Childhood, consider yourself semi-validated.
I love Rowdy Roddy Piper. Always have. Always will. My latest entry for the AMC Movie Blog centers around a cinematic travesty that took place about 22 years ago, when Rowdy Roddy made the leap to the big screen in the highly underrated John Carpenter’s They Live!, and never became a big-time action star. I am one of the movie’s biggest fans, was way before it became a cult hit on cable. But my chubby adolescent 14-year old self was sure Piper was gonna blow up and join the ranks of the Stallones and Schwarzeneggers, or if not at least get a key card to the Van Damme and Seagal lounge. But no such love. And I still can’t figure out why.
Interesting Side Note - after this article was published Wednesday August 25th, 2010, Roddy Piper’s manager/booking agent retweeted it and emailed me, saying that she’d pass the piece along to him. Knowing that Hot Rod will know how kickass I think he is makes the week a success. Now, if I ever got to meet him or work with him? Forget it. But if I have one screenplay in me then it’s definitely gonna be my effort to resuscitate the action career of Piper, a la what Tarantino did for Travolta.
Me third entry for the AMC Movie Blog is about the great disappointment that I, and many action movie fans alike, have been feeling for years about The Rock. Few people cockteased us (Rock-teased us, if you will) with the promise he showed back in the early 2000’s, only to then take it away, Disneyfying an image that was the perfect blend of Hollywood and hardass. It’s like you look at The Rock, excuse me, DWAYNE JOHNSON, now and in your best DeNiro Copland voice, think “We offered you a chance, and YOU BLEW IT!”
In addition to co-hosting Action Pack (interstitial action movie man-talk) on AMC (I like to call it the “Breaking Mad” network. Get it? You see, becasue they’re famous for these two shows…) Anyway, now I’m doing some blogging for them on, of all subjects, action movies. Because I can’t just talk about them enough, in my spare time or on someone else’s dime, now I’m writing about them too. The column runs once every two weeks, giving me yet another excuse to go see action movies, or sit at home and watch them into the wee hours, writing off the cost of the ticket, and accompanying popcorn, and subsequent beers needed during a post-viewing discussion with friends. Or by myself. My first entry was about how much of a man Clint Eastwood is and how he’s kind of a dying breed. Column #2 reveals my choices for The All-Underrated Action Hero Team, lead by none other than my personal favorite action star, Kurt Russell. Don’t you tussle with the muscle of Russell! Give a read, weigh in on your favorite underrated action hero, create your own action hero “Dream Team”, spread the word, and let’s have a beer and discuss sometime, shall we? I’m buying…and saving the receipt.
“Happy Trek”: I want to go to there. Seems like a pretty fun, wholesome, retrotastic future, no?
Continuing with my “Whoopee, I got a Tumblr blog!” Day 1 nonstop self-promotional blitzkrieg, here’s one of my favorite vignettes from “Action Pack” on AMC, that little ditty I co-host every Wednesday night with the H & T (hilarious and talented) Matt McCarthy. If you love nonsensical and oddball musings from two man-children in their 30’s, about some of your favorite and/or least favorite action movies, every other commercial break, then “Action Pack” is for you. As for us and this…we know; it might be the greatest job ever: Show up. Talk about movies like the coupla boobs we are. Go home. Get paid a few weeks later. It is the gravy train I hope to ride into that great biscuit sunset.