mslulu: (Jake & Elwood)
Okay, it's no great secret that I love cheesy movies. However, there are a few things that really piss me off.

Like irresponsible sequels.

First of all, if you're going to make a sequel, at least make one from a movie that deserves one.

If you're not going to do that, at least you could pay attention to some of the details and not make major continuity errors.

My bitch today is brought to you courtesy of the straight-to-video soon to be classic, The Cutting Edge 2: Going for the Gold.

What's wrong with this movie? Well, other than the obvious answer of "what isn't?" let's talk about our main character, Jackie Dorsey. Jackie is an Olympic hopeful. She plans to skate in the 2006 Winter Olympics. She gets romantically entangled with her pairs partner, and it's all really quite predictable. My problem here is that this movie is not trying to be just a retelling of the original Cutting Edge with a different set of skaters (Much like the sequel to the Cheerleading classic Bring it On, which from what I could tell was about cheerleading, but not at all related to the original story. I could be wrong, I didn't see it.) No. In this case, Jackie Dorsey is the daughter of Kate Moseley and Doug Dorsey, the bickering pairs skaters who fell in love in the original.

So, here's my problem. The original film starts in 1988 with both Kate and Doug wiping out separately during the Olympics. Four years later, they skate together for the first time in the 1992 Albertville games. Does anyone see the problem here? Did I mention that Jackie and her partner are not young adolescents and rather are quite the adults? See, even assuming that Kate was already pregnant at the time she and Doug skated in Albertville, which she wasn't, that would make the daughter of that union not even 14 years old come 2006.

Such a simple detail. And yet, someone was in such a rush to make this crappy movie, that they couldn't wait the four necessary years to make it plausible.

And these are the things that keep me up at night.
mslulu: (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] darkmoon inspired me to finally catalog my DVDs and figure out exactly what and how many I have. Here is the final list )

I'm not going to even attempt to list my VHS collection, since last count was over 300 films/items.

So now, the point. A few people have already done this, but I've been thinking I need to for a while. See, I keep this list in my head of "movies I should see before I die." It's not a terribly concrete list. I know for certain that it contains Schindler's List, Saving Private Ryan, The Apartment, Taxi Driver and Dr. Strangelove. I think it's time to actually get it written down and make it a real list. And, I figure, it might be fun to get a little input from others on what should be on it. So...

[Poll #228264]
(feel free to suggest more than one... there's room)
mslulu: (Default)
I remember, in the late 70's when Saturday Night Live and VCR's were still new, I was about 7 or 8, and we were staying at my Grandma Kane's for the weekend. I see the living room in my mind perfectly, the sofa bed pulled out, me and Chryste sitting under a multi-colored afghan that Grandma had crocheted. Uncle Mike was there too, and he had brought his VCR and a tape of Saturday Night Live. I'm not sure I was actually allowed to watch the show then, but mom wasn't around, so it didn't matter. Mike had something he had to show us. He put the tape in and told us to watch these guys. And I watched, as two men, one tall and thin, the other short and fat, dressed in black suits, black hats, and black sunglasses came out on stage. The tall one had a briefcase handcuffed to his arm, and in it was a harmonica. The music started, and they started singing, and dancing and the dancing was bizarre and the music was great. I was fascinated. I remember Mike explaining them a little, and I don't really remember what he said, but I loved it anyway.

Sometime later (months, years... I don't recall) on a visit to Mike's house, he showed me the movie. These same two guys, brothers, on a mission from God to save an orphanage, crashing cars, running from cops, barely escaping one mess just to land in another, with a few breaks for some fun musical numbers, all culminating in what, to me at least, is the greatest car chase scene ever filmed with the entire Illinois state police force, the National Guard, a Winnebago driving country band, and even a station wagon full of Illinois Nazis.

I don't know why I love Jake and Elwood Blues so much. But all it takes is the opening credits and I'm smiling. The close up images of Dan Ackroyd and John Belushi, followed by their fraternal embrace under the title graphic, "The Blues Brothers," just makes me all warm and happy. It's one of those little things of childhood that has stayed with me all my life.

The movie's showing on TBS as I write this. I'm going to go back downstairs and curl up on the couch and alternately cringe and laugh at the horrible editing and probably fall asleep watching it.
mslulu: (Tattoo)
John Hughes lied to me. How many other children of the eighties out there spent their teen years believing in the Gospel of Hughes? And how many felt betrayed when graduation came and the promised love had never materialized?

I started my high school career with Sixteen Candles. I knew that the guy I had the secret crush on would eventually realize I was there; I just had to go to the right dance to start the wheels in motion.

By sophomore year, it was The Breakfast Club. I was the loner, the outsider, the freak. But it was okay, because the cute jock was going to kiss me one day and tell me I was pretty.

Junior year was all about Pretty in Pink. I was living alone with my dad then, and the Great and Powerful Hughes promised me that if I pinched pennies and made my own clothes, Andrew McCarthy would soon start stalking me.

And finally, Senior year brought Some Kind of Wonderful and it's assurances that my best friend would see the light and realize that he actually loved me and not the pretty girl he was chasing all year.

But, alas, the real world is nothing like Shermer, Illinois. I never had that great high school romance. The words of Hughes were just empty promises.

But somewhere along the way, lost in these wonderful fictions, my own "what-if" button got pushed. My imagination was tickled and I, for the first time, put pencil to paper and began to write. My first attempts were dreadful, unoriginal, Hughes-like tales of love and sex amongst foul-mouthed high-school students. But I never stopped. I'm still writing seventeen years later. Admittedly, a lot of what fills the box of notebooks and loose-leaf paper in my closet is pure, derivative crap, but I know there are at least a few original, creative, well written ideas in there, too. I love that I can sit down and create people and places and situations and give them life with just a pen.

And I've got John Hughes to thank for that.

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