YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH

For people who like eccentric (see: crazy) celebrities, Tom Cruise is a wet dream. One of those wake up in the morning, how did this happen, now I need to shower kind of dreams. The kind of Michael Jackson/George Michael/Pee-Wee Herman holy shit you guys make it too easy for Late Night jokes kinda dreams.

He keeps underhand-pitching us these comedic softballs. An alcoholic, minor-league prospect separated from the game for decades could hit these over the Green Monster.

My point is that he’s sabotaged his pre-constructed image as an American protagonist. He was a grinning everyman who could get the girl, save the world, and kick the bad guy’s ass. Now he’s tabloid fodder. He’s spawned more internet chatter than Vivid’s RAPES ON A PLANE (Starring Samuel L. Wackson).

Ok, I’m losing focus. The issue of today is where will Cruise go? Which studio will take him and what movies will he make?

Tom. If ever you can quiet the voices in your head, now is the time. Goodbye Xenu. Goodbye posthumous whispers from Goose. Is it clear? Totally? Ok. Listen up, baby. I got your next movie.

You play an aging actor who's loosing it. EVERYONE WILL SEE IT. The appeal of the real. Fact is always stranger than fiction. And make the actor a closet homosexual. Just for kicks. Seriously, if Tom plays gay, it might save his career. It would invigorate and reinvent his entire acting portfolio. Never has Cruise rebuked his critics in such a self-deprecating and intriguing way. Hollywood, make this fucking movie. Everyone in America knows the source material. He would finally win his Oscar. God damnit, can't you see this film could save your Days-of-Thunder, you-complete-me, Cocktail-swigging career. If ever you listen to me Thomas, listen now.

Maybe it's a comedy. We can see you behind the scenes, responding to the harsh and cruel media machine. We can humanize your struggle for acceptance and public support. We can re-create clever, but memorable versions of the Matt Lauer interview and the Oprah appearance. We can even use the Katie Holmes character. Obviously, she's not talented enough to play herself, but what if we got Amy Adams? She's talented, beautiful, and she's convincing as a naive young starlet who might stumble into the cesspool of commercial packaging and image control that is Hollywood. She might actually fall in love with the Cruise character who marries her and opportunistically uses her to maintain a successful and prominent heterosexual image. Cruise, Wagner. Tom, Paula. This is your next fucking movie. Don't let foolish pride blind you from your desire to make meaningful mass entertainment.

Rock Hudson waited too long to come clean. Right now you need to play up the gay issue. Maybe Paramount fired you discriminatorily. Ever think of that? Maybe this flick is like Philadelphia. It's a court room. You can do the whole "I want the truth" routine. Tom, listen. This is brilliant. Sheer genius. Do your realize I'm just giving you the biggest break of your life? I don't mind. I just want everyone to be happy. Make this movie. Call it Code Red, and fucking own it. If someone asks if you ordered the script for Code Red you better say "you're goddamn right I did." You better.

Who’s with me? I’m out to Peter Weir to direct. TomTom, call me crazy. Maybe I’m totally outta line. Maybe you’ll sue me and force me to shut down my free blog. Maybe this slanderous gossip is just what is so wrong with contemporary America. Or maybe, just maybe you’re about to win an Academy Award. Conceive, believe, achieve. Take a chance on me, Tom Cruise. Dream with me. WWLRHD?

So Mel pulled some serious Riggs-shit in Malibu. Everybody on the force knows he’s unstable but it looks like he finally snapped in that highly entertaining and photogenic way. Even this dude’s breakdowns are dramatic. He’s a total actor.

WHY CAN'T YOU BE A HAPPY DRUNK?


Dear Mel Gibson,

Sir, I’m sure you’re familiar with my work. My article “The Passion, I Give it Two Arms Up!” delighted audiences both young and old last year. It was a rousing contemporary parody of film reviews and movie-gossip web blogging. Frankly, sir, it was some of my best shit (at the time). But since then I’ve been forced to reinvent myself as a writer. Sure, I’ve ventured into politics, religion, and relationships but my real joy, my real Passion (besides puns) is crafting humorous pieces about you and your uproarious escapades.

Therefore, when I heard about your latest bombshell, I thought to myself, “My, oh my. Mel has done it again!” You old BIRE ON A WIRE bastard. I, for the life of me (specifically half-Jewish life), can’t believe you allowed yourself to explode like the Hindenburg that you are. When I get drunk I piss myself and make out with fat chicks. You turn into Ed Norton from AMERICAN HISTORY X. It’s horrible and everything, but it does make me feel a little better about the bladder issues.

Man, I was so off. I had you pegged as the caring father from RANSOM. Was that merely window-dressing by talented director Ron Howard? Were you just acting? I guess I was a fool. Maybe after LETHAL WEAPON 4, you renounced the cop way of life. Maybe you’re so tired of playing cops that you had this backlash against them. Maybe you were just doing research for your next movie where you play a close-minded town drunk who falls in love with Goldie Hawn. I don’t know what films are on your docket, Sir. These are just my CONSPIRACY THEORIES.

Look, I’m a friend. I know things are crazy now. Super agent Ari Emanuel, the real life Ari from ENTOURAGE, has publicly called for Hollywood to shun you. Dude, Ari is like a rabid dog with a migraine. You don’t want him on your bad side. C’mon, Mel. Send over some chocolate covered Matzo to the Endeavor office. No wait. You know what? They’re not gonna eat it. They know you’d probably spit in it with your do-unto-others saliva. I think the only way you—feature film actor/director/producer Mel Gibson—can get out of this situation—DUI followed by extemporaneous anti-Semitic debate—is to resolve the war between Israel and Hezbollah.

Like little baby Jesus himself, you have been chosen to be the peacemaker. We need you to be a liaison between the Hezbollah terrorists who love your Jew-bashing and the Israelis who can’t get enough of WHAT WOMEN WANT. I guess that one’s universal. (Actually was a Paramount release) C’mon Mel, whadda ya say? America needs you. We need a [THE] PATRIOT, not some hot-headed MAD MAX. Mel, the Israelis are just looking for PAYBACK while the terrorists, I’m sorry, while the freedom fighters (as you know them) just need the right SIGNS. You can be the middle-man. I know it sounds a little Jewish. But it also sounds a little brilliant.

For the sake of full-disclosure, you should know I talked to some of my Jewish friends and it looks like you were right. This was part of an over-arching Jewish conspiracy. They had set up a DUI roadblock hoping to catch prominent Christian film personalities who were just minding their own businesses driving intoxicated down the dangerous Pacific Coast Highway. The Jewish Police were probably just making up for lost time after all their exiles and bondage and whatnot. Talk about I told you so, right Mel! My source even told me that this was a strategic strike by the Israeli Army aimed at seriously disrupting the post-production of APOCALYPTO. Sadly, like most missions, there was collateral damage. Jim Caviezel was issued a warning for having a blown tail-light and in an ironic accident, Danny Glover was shot by a cop who was supposed to retire yesterday. Apparently when the Jews rule the road, no one is safe. Especially not Glover.

So I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but like I said, your fictitious partner is dead. Your character must be very upset. My condolences. Mr. Gibson, I know your time is valuable and I credit you for reading so far. I’m not gonna keep busting your balls. God will do that. (I’m not really THAT religious, but the joke works). Instead I will end with the phrase “Sugar Tits.” Apparently you referred to one of the female arresting officers as said nickname. My question to you is, “Do you think women will take that kind of treatment in the workplace?” Jesus Christ hung with the prostitutes and didn’t drunkenly call them slags. Look, Mel, buddy, women these days like it when you treat them with respect. They want to be your equal. Equals. That gives me an idea. Splenda Tits. Yeah, Splenda Tits. That’s what you should have said. It’s all in the delivery. Good luck with everything. Hey, maybe when this is all over I could buy you a drink sometime. I know this great place up the PCH. You drive.


-John Dardenne


P.S. Can intern at Icon? I'm totally experienced. Seriously.

WHY Y2K?

Y2K was such a bummer. The logic was that when the year 1999 turned into 2000 it would possibly confuse some computers who use only two digits to describe the year. When these computers changed from 99 to 00, they might not fully understand that 00 means 2000, not I guess 00 A.D. As harmless as this sounds, the world raced to Y2K-Proof all the computers they could. But there just wasn’t enough time! Here I was thinking that we were going to have this kick-ass meltdown with everything going haywire and people roaming the streets in fashionable gangs like in THE WARRIORS. But instead we got absolutely nothing. I didn’t even need to bring my home computer to the store or anything. That shit didn’t affect me at all, and that made me sad. Why weren’t we good enough for Y2K? Why couldn’t it throw our society into chaos? Was it seeing other societies and if so did they go all the way? If they did, I would like to see what happened because around here everyone on TV seemed to think Y2K was a pretty scary thing. The news reported Y2K as this potential electronic meltdown of (and I know it seems hard to believe now) doomsday proportions. Remember when we saw the millennium breach the first time zones near Fiji? CNN reported each hour as each time zone crossed the 2000 year mark. We were entranced by the amazing fact that nothing happened at all. There wasn’t even a bank robbery! Ok, nationally there were probably a couple, but what I’m saying is Y2K was like a girl everyone says is totally easy who won’t even kiss you. NOT EVEN ON THE CHEEK! Y2K, you fucking prude! I took you out to dinner. I introduced you to my parents. Jesus Christ. What do you want from me? I can’t keep living this lie. This is over. And you know what? I was sleeping with Bird Flu.