Sorry I haven't followed up since the birthday celebration, but I've been focused on Kung Fu. Luckily, my work paid off and I'm now a yellow belt, which I consider to be the Grieco of the belts. Sure, it's not the coolest and some have suggested it's womanish, but it stands out in a crowd and it's good enough for a spot in a B action movie.
I’ve returned from my trips to Hollywood and Arlington (sister cities?), and it’s time to celebrate GIK’s first birthday. I wanted to look back at all we’ve accomplished over the year, and I thought the best way to do it would be to take a look at some of the comments (and the posts their linked to) that shaped the world of Grieco. The following is a collection of some of my favorites. They span almost the entire Grieco cannon, painting a clear picture of where we’ve been and perhaps where we are going.
Look Back in Greico
I feel like things really took off for GIK with the Hang Your Head in Shame posts. Part II sparked the ire of Kev, which is always fun for everybody:
How dare you, GIK... How dare you take an innocent blog used seemingly for good, and then twist it into something so hurtful. I speak, of course, of your needless assailing of Andrea Barber, otherwise known as Kimmy Gibler on Full House. She may not have her own clothing line or coke habit like the Olsen twins, but at least Ms. Barber could hold her own against the comedy stylings of Dave Coulier. Let this serve as your warning, GIK, lest you be tempted to cross the line in the future.
Kev
President and Founder,
Andrea Barber Fan Club
This one from Many, Many Movies sums up what was on everybody’s mind this year:
bts said...
Dude. Obviously Karate Dog.
You may remember that the shit started to go down with Grieco Madness, a seminal point in GIK’s history. The following is a comment that ended up shaping the entire tournament:
bts said...
i cant believe Starship Troopers is even on there... that's something else entirely. and the exclusion of Left Behind??? also, since when does Showgirls deserve a 1 seed over obvious contender Mazes and Monsters?just here to vent
Soon after BTS’ rant, Judgement was scratched and Left Behind replaced it.
The tournament gave us a glimpse into the life of a high school teacher (thanks Kev):
I present: 9 Very Grieco Degrees of Jason X/M&M:
Tom Hanks was in Busom Buddies with Wendie-Jo Sperber who was on Parker Lewis Can't Lose with Corin Nemec who was in The Stand with Gary Sinise who was in Reindeer Games with Ben Affleck who was in Good Will Hunting with far more talented brother Casey Affleck who was in a stirring remake of Hamlet with Kyle McLachlan who was in Showgirls with Gena Gershon who was directed in Crash (the soft-core lesbo-esque one, not the Oscar one) by David Cronenberg who was - blink and you may miss him - in Jason X.
I am bored.
The tournament also gave us a glimpse of pictures that weren’t even battling it out:
the ghost of gene siskel said...
Since the Saint was mentioned in passing in the this post, I'd like to announce that, in an effort to redeem myself for Blind Horizon, I watched the great Val Kilmer in The Island of Dr. Moreau last night. Echoing his hair from Top Gun, Kilmer was solid as the wacky, sadistic neuro-surgeon. Aside from, or because of, a few really bizarre acting choices - like when the unappealing Brit who's marooned on the crazy island is trying to radio for help and Kilmer shows him that he's stolen a crucial circuit board, which he is oddly balancing on top of his head - it's classic Kilmer. Brando in the title role was way too good for the film he was in, and the cast of "Cats" grunted and scampered admirably. The SFX were made on a graphing calculator. I watched until Brando got his chest ripped open by Rum Tum Tugger, then I went to bed.
Go M&M!
At 2:34 PM, Sherpa said...
hey ghost, you forgot to mention the hot interspecies orgy towards the end of "Island." Tigers and goats doin' it is super hot in my book.
And it got folks fired up about made-for-Canadian-TV movies:
obidiah said...
I hope Jason X is prepared for the thorough pantsing it will surely receive by perennial underdog Mazes and Monsters. Pardu the Holy Man can pop the trey every time, and Glacia the Fighter is clearly ready to throw down. Jason who?
But in the end, the film that without BTS’ rage never would’ve taken the floor shocked the world and won it all:
bts said...
boo yeah.
i love M/M with a heart of gold and leaves, but Left Behind is just too fucking powerful.
Speaking of rage. Mine couldn’t be stopped, leading to a frank discussion of taints:
Sherpa said...
Woooahhh there. Easy, trigger. The rage is full force! Good thing I went to bed before you.
By the way, if Carlos Mencia isn't worthy of licking Carrot Top's taint, who is? I mean, what poor bastard has that job? Especially having to do it while Carrot Top is bench pressing...his muscles are scary.
At 11:40 PM, Anonymous said...
Only Mindfreak is worthy.
At 8:35 AM, sherpa said...
There is NOOOOOOO reality!!
Perhaps the greatest thing about GIK’s first year is that even when I wasn’t talking about Grieco, others were keeping the people informed:
bts said...
whilst visiting Michigan one sunny coolish day a few months ago I happened to purchase a film, put out by the Lifetime Television concern, titled " She's Too Young". if at all possible, seek out this film and watch it. make it. it will feel very fine.
At 11:55 AM, Diana said...
Have you seen the one where a very bloated Grieco rapes a girl, then they get married because she doesn't know he's the one that raped her and knocked her up, and they have kids and he's all great then he loses his mind and starts beating her, then she tries to leave him, so he beats her some more? I saw this gem on lifetime network when I was 13, before I began avoiding lifetime like the plague.
Now for a commercial break, here are some of Anonymous’s highlights. Is he a coward for hiding his name? Perhaps. Is he actually Grieco? Goddamn I hope so:
Anonymous said...
My cousin gave himself Trapped in the Closet for Christmas. He hasn't been the same since.
Anonymous said... (In defense of Gymkata)
"Kane" doesn't even have a town of crazies. Or Olympic gymnasts. Speaking of which, if Grieco were to medal in one winter Olympic sport, which one would it be?
Anonymous said...
Why hasn't anyone mentioned Young Sherlock Holmes? I mean, there's a Coptic death cult in it.
As GIK learned to chew solid foods, I was reminded of why the lovely Sherpa is so lovely:
(In response to The Craft)
Sherpa said...
The end of the film. The scene opens in the looney bin. Nancy is tied to a bed in a padded room...
Nancy: I'm FLYING! FLYING! (crazy laugh/crying) *sniff* Ha HA! Flying!!
Oh, fuck me. Seriously, where did they get their research from?? They had only one of the proper ritual items when they "Called the Corners" (a practice which is also made up--it's usually called a Magick Circle--not a square). They had their athames (pronounced A-tha-mays), which are ceremonial daggers used to represent the male figure, but they didn't have a cauldron, a broom, a wand, and completely omitted the chalice, which is used to represent the female aspect in spells. Aren't those girls supposed to be all "Grrrl Power" and shit? Where yo chalice at, bitch? And athames aren't supposed to be used as actual weapons, Fairuza. They're symbolic, duh! Stop trying to stab everyone, yo.
Finally, the fact that there is no mention of a "goddess" deity. This "spirit" the girls try to "invoke" is named "Manaw" and is male. Who the fuck is Manaw?! There ain't no such thing!!
Ahem...sorry.
Work came and went and GIK, old enough to be left alone at 11 months, had to fend for itself for a while. But even after a year, weened from the milk of its mother’s teet, GIK is still going. More importantly, it’s still warranting talk of panties:
bts said...
i am going to be in Hollywood in December, so could you leave me like a trail of skittles to celebrity panty drawers?
At 5:18 AM, the ghost of gene siskel said...
haven't you heard? shocktarts are in. panties, out. panty drawers, however, still in.
Without you folks I would just be a crazed man ranting about bad movies while wearing his pajamas. With you, I’m that, but with like five or six readers. As my grandfather used to say, “I thank you, my mother thanks you, my father thanks you, and my Grieco thanks you.” OK, he didn’t say the Grieco thing, but if he were here I think he’d be cool with it.
Happy fucking birthday GIK!
This weekend, GIK celebrated it's first birthday. Yep, Grieco has been filling our hearts and minds for a year. I totally thought this was going to last like a month at the most. I'm planning a big birthday bash, but with the holidays coming things are kind of crazy, so we'll throw down next week when everybody is back from their travels and turkey and whatnot. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I'd like to thank everyone who has kept this going for the last year. Our numbers may be small, but they are Grieco-worthy. Have a great holiday, and in the mean time, take a look back at where it all began:
And God Said, Let there be Grieco!
In 2000, I left the warm flatlands of Texas and headed north to the lake-effect-snow-covered streets of Chicago. From the moment I got there, I struggled to adjust to a city where phrases like “at least it’s above zero” and “you think this is cold? Wait ‘till February. That’s freakin’ cold” are thrown around on a regular basis. I also had trouble finding a job. That is until I saw a want-ad for telephone psychics in the paper. I can’t really describe what it was like to work for “Miss Cleo” here, because until you’ve sat in your living room and talked on the phone to a woman claiming that famed newsman Mike Wallace was dressing up in various disguises and following her around the Washington D.C. area trying to work up the courage to profess his undying love for her, you can’t really understand the job. I will say that I faced a moral dilemma (what with the giving people advice who clearly needed therapy) and a thanks mom and dad for spending thousands and thousands of dollars on my college education I’m a telephone psychic now dilemma on a daily basis. Eventually, my conscience caused me to quit, but I had lived the dream of working from home and I would never be the same.
After selling stuffed bunnies door-to-door and signing people up for speed-dating classes, I came to my senses and moved back to a warmer climate. I then worked incredibly hard to find a job that wouldn’t require me to work incredibly hard. It panned out, and I am working from home again. I don’t have the philosophical issues that I had with the psychic gig, but I do have the free time. I use that free time to watch bad movies. Many, many bad movies. Now, I’m no film critic, so I can’t get into Dutch angles or anything exciting like that. I am just a lazy man who loves watching the works of Grieco, Lundgren, and anything the Lifetime Channel has to offer; and I want to pass what I learn onto you. I make no guarantees, but I promise that I will do my best to steer you in the right direction, because I know all too well that it is a fine line between “so funny it’s good” and Battlefield Earth. I mean, look at their hands. Come on! It’s like they stole them from some kids who were getting ready to take the stage in a 3rd grade production of Beauty and the Beast. Sorry about that. I lost focus. Now, let's get serious about Grieco.
Die Die Die
The most amazing thing about this movie is that I watched it with three of my friends, and as soon as it ended none of us could remember anything about it. We were pretty sure that there was a nightclub of some sort, and one of us was almost positive that somebody did actually die. However, after eating a chicken sandwich, my senses returned and I remembered that it stars a bloated Richard Grieco (I'm sure the weight gain was for the role) and Greg Evigan (the other dad from My Two Dads). Grieco, sporting the chepaest hair plugs money can buy, plays bad guy Frank, a man who thought he had successfully doublecrossed his woman and left her for dead. Oh Grieco, will you never learn? His woman returns, and a wicked game of cat and mouse (read: gratuitous stripping and holding guns sideways) ensues, and people keep talking about some heist money. "Where's the heist money? I want the heist money," they keep saying. After a retreat to a secluded cabin and an 82-minute run time that seems like an eternity, Grieco has a death scene that leads me to believe he will play Hamlet at a dinner theatre in Winnipeg some day, and everything works out for his woman, Evigan, Sam, the raspy-voiced Judge, and Paul Reiser.
Normally, I would give a movie that is this boring a rating of 1-Grieco (see ratings chart), but I have a rule here at Grieco is King; if the actual Grieco is in the film, it automatically gets an extra Grieco and 1/2. That being said, I have to give Die Die Die 2 1/2-Griecos. Just make sure you share the experience with friends, because sometimes talking about Grieco is even more fun than watching Grieco.
Ratings
1-Grieco: There’s probably a re-run of Full House on. Watch that instead.
2-Griecos: Washed-up stars, watered-down action, and my friends are at work. What the hell.
3-Griecos: Bad religious symbolism abounds and the gunplay is damn near balletic. My Friday night is looking up.
4-Griecos: If Looks Could Kill. All I’m sayin’.
**If ever I should come across a film that rates 0-Griecos, may God have mercy on your soul.
What up, y'all? I had to stay in LA for an extra week. I'm still here and hot on the trail of Grieco. I shall return next week to tell you about my newly found tan.
Hey y'all, I'm heading back to Hollywood for a spell. I shall return next week unless I meet Grieco and convince him to star in my new picture, Ghost on My Toast. It's a supernatural breakfast thriller for 'Tweens. It's gonna be awesome. Anyway, have a good week, and keep in mind that GIK will offically be one year old soon.
Drift to live.
The lovely Sherpa stumbled upon a bold piece on the Sleuth network last night. I was surprised, because I thought Sleuth just ran reruns of “Colombo,” "Magnum P.I.,” and “Miami Vice” over and over again, which of course is totally awesome. However, on this All Hallows’ Eve, they busted out with some “horror.” And thank God they did.
Nightmares
Nightmares is broken up into different parts a la The Twilight Zone movie, Creepshow, and that piece of shit about the four rooms in the hotel that Sir Quentin Tarantino was involved with. I only caught parts two and three of Nightmares, but they were a full film’s worth of kickass.
Part two follows Emilio Estevez with vaguely blonde hair on his head, a rat tail running down his neck, and the world’s largest walkman strapped to his waist. Emilio is a videogame master, and he travels through parts of NJ and nyny hustling unsuspecting players. After running afoul of a Mexican videogame gang, Emilio heads back to his mall to take on a game that features an enigmatic computer generated figure called the Bishop of Battle. There are 13 levels of the game, but nobody has ever seen anyone get to the final level. There’s rumors about a guy in Jersey having done it, but let's face it, there are rumors about a lot of guys in Jersey having done a lot of things. Anyway, Emilio turns on his giant walkman and plays to the sounds of that godforsaken rock and roll. He plays like an addict, breaking into a sweat and treating his friends and family like shit along the way. He loses on level 12 and gets booted out of the arcade at closing time. That night, he breaks into the arcade, battles the Bishop, and makes it to the final level. This, of course, involves the enemies of the game entering the real world and battling Estevez in the mall. Just when you think he’s bested the last spaceship with his video gun, he runs into the Bishop of Battle, is swallowed up in the bright blue lines of early ‘80s graphics, and becomes trapped in the game. That’s a 3 ½-Grieco picture right there, y’all.
Part 3 stars Lance Henriksen (shit yeah) as a priest who has lost his faith. As he’s driving away from the small town of his parish he is run off the road by a big ole black pickup truck with tinted windows. After some Duel-type action, the truck just disappears…until it bursts forth from the fucking ground! Some more shit happens, we see an upside down crucifix hanging from the truck’s rearview, and we know Satan is at the wheel. This led the lovely Sherpa to launch into an original song entitled “Satan Drives a Pickup Truck,” which, believe me, is a lot better than most of the crap that passes for country music these days. Henriksen somehow bests the truck, discovers it was never really there, and returns to his parish with his faith restored. Again, that’s a 3 ½-Grieco picture.
I think Part 4 had something to do with a rat and I have no idea what Part 1 was all about, but I can only hope that they were as Grieco as parts 2 and 3. I hope everyone had as spooooky a Halloween as I.
(editor note: see BTS' second comment for proof that Grieco is still holding it down.)
Sorry it took me so long to get this review finished, but my fantasy football team is preparing to do battle with a man called Anonymous, and I’ve committed all of my free time to figuring out how to hand him his first loss. Seriously, that bastard is 7-0, and that’s just ridiculous. You hear that Anonymous? Your reign of terror is coming to an end, my friend. I dare you to bench your starters. Then we’ll see how tough you are. Coward!
Wow. Now you know how truly cool I am. Anyway, let’s get down to the 3-D revolution.
Friday the 13th Part III in 3-D
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a non-IMAX movie in 3-D. I think the floating arm in Jaws 3 might actually be the last piece of 3-D brilliance I saw in the movie theater. If you’re too young to have seen an ‘80s 3-D movie, well…you’re too fucking young. You’ve also missed out on a great piece of pop culture that never really caught on. It’s a lot like the jet pack; totally kickass in every way, but for some reason not accepted by the masses.
The beauty of these old 3-D movies is that they’re just settling into the technology, so most of the 3-D action has nothing to do with the plot at all. Friday the 13th Part III featured a 20 second scene with a yo-yo going up and down, people would lay brooms and rakes down menacingly so the stick would be pointed at your eye, there was a mouse that walked towards me, popcorn exploded in my face, and a joint came my way from the requisite horror movie stoners. That’s not to say that the killing didn’t come in three dimensions, because every kill involved an object (e.g. harpoon, pitchfork) either being thrown at the victim or protruding from the victim’s back, so the audience didn’t know whether to scream, jump out of their seats to avoid the object, or laugh at the kids in the row in front of them who kept talking about Warcraft the entire movie.
I can’t do justice to the absurdity of the 3-D or to the fun of it. The lovely Sherpa and I had a great time at the movie as did everyone else in the theater. It’s ridiculous, but it’s also quaint in a way; a remnant of a decade that understood that technology shouldn’t be used for communication or study, but for making horror movies more badass and for flying around with a self-propulsion jet pack strapped to your back. That shit was important once, and I for one miss those dreamers who have long since been silenced in deference to those who want to make the Internet faster or want to cure disease. Fuck that. Get me a flying car, a hover board, and make me think a harpoon is headed for my eyeball. That’s fucking progress.
The movie gets 2 ½ -Griecos on its own. It’s horrible in every way. I mean there’s a three-person motorcycle gang that shows up for no real reason at all, and the plot holes are huge even for an ‘80s slasher picture. However, Friday the 13th Part III has vast significance on a pop culture level. It introduces Jason’s hockey mask and machete. We all know Jason’s not in the original (shut up, I’m not including the dream sequence at the end of the movie), and in Part II he wears a burlap sack and kills mainly with an axe, so the importance of Part III can’t be denied. While I believe Michael Meyers’s mask and simple blade are far more terrifying, there are few horror icons that are as recognizable as Jason’s mask and weapon of choice.
With the 3-D, the film easily gets 4-Griecos. You should all try to go see it or something like it, which brings me to my next point: The Alamo Draft House in Austin is the greatest movie theater on the planet. You should all come visit and check it out. I watched 27 hours straight of “Twin Peaks” there, I’ve seen horror movies that don’t get shown anywhere else, and that’s only a small piece of what they do.
OK. I’ve done my advertising for the day. I must now return to the land of fantasy where my second place team is readying themselves to shock the world next week.
Hey y'all,
Friday the 13th Part III in 3-D blew my mind, and then those bits of brain flew off the screen at everybody else. I'll have a full report this week, but I'm still trying to deal with it on an emotional level. In the mean time, check out how the Grieco-worthy Snipes is trying to bring down the government. Fight on Mr. Snipes, and I shall continue to bet on black.
October is in full swing and I'm very excited, because it's by far my favorite month. Some might suggest that I'm selfish and only like October for it's the month of my birth. I say to those cynical pricks, "Nay, sirs. My love of October stems from my love of all things terrifying." It's true. Every movie channel this month is doing like a "13 Days of Halloween" thing, so there are going to be horror pictures on all of the time. And on top of that, tomorrow is Friday the 13th. It's like a beautiful goth dream. Speaking of beautiful goth things, the lovely Sherpa and I will be attending Friday the 13th Part III in 3-D this weekend, so expect a bold, multi-dimensional review next week. I also have a ton of horror movies on the Netflix, so it should get fucking scary around here really soon. In the mean time, I'd like to highlight some of my favorite horror movies. I'm assuming that you've seen the classics, so I'll try to focus on movies that you might have overlooked. Some are Grieco-worthy, others are just awesome:
Halloween 4 and Halloween 5: Last Halloween, I got to see Part 4 on the big screen for the first time, and it reaffirmed my belief that it's one of the coolest horror movies of all time. Now, I know that the original and Part 2 are incredible, and if you haven't seen them you truly suck. I also know that Part 3 is beyond Grieco, Part 6 is cool but has problems, and that H2O and Ressurection are abominations and a disgrace to the title "Halloween." But Parts 4 and 5 (especially 4) are damn near perfect. The kid who plays young Jamie is the best child actor ever to grace the screen, the deaths are brutal, and the Michael Meyers/Dr. Loomis scenes are on a whole other level. 4 & 5 are linked in the same way as 1 & 2, so I suggest watching them back-to-back.
Peeping Tom: BTS could probably give a better breakdown as to why this movie is important in the grand scheme of things, but I'll just say it's one of the creepiest movies I've seen, and it was way ahead of it's time. You should check it out.
Suspiria: Italinan director Dario Argento is famous among horror nerds, but I've noticed that a lot of normals haven't seen his work. The dialogue in Suspiria is ridiculous and the plot holes are larger than any gaping wound, but the look of the movie is unlike any American horror movie I've seen, the deaths are just insane, and the prog score by Goblin will haunt you for the rest of your days.
Wait Until Dark: Audrey Hepburn is a blind girl and a young Alan Arkin basically plays three different parts. It's pretty obvious that it was a play first, but it's still cool and kind of scary. Also, Hepburn is just damn cute.
Motel Hell: A Grieco-style film that has some nice gore, disgusting sound effects, and the great Rory Calhoun. Not for everyone, but I think a lot of you might get a kick out of it.
OK, I know I said I was going to gloss over the classics, but I have to say a few things. If you haven't seen the original The Omen your life has been but half lived. If you're a fan of The Exorcist you need to see the remastered version with the Death Face. That shit is messed up. If you're a fan of The Exorcist II: The Heretic give the aformentioned BTS a call, because the man knows way too much about that film. The Shining is freaking horrifying every time I wacth it, and I'm pretty sure those little girls will be waiting for me at the Gates of Hell when I die. The sister in Pet Sematary is one of the freakiest things I've ever laid eyes on, and when she says "Raaachael" I feel as though I'm the one with spinal meningitis.
That about does it for me today. Enjoy the 13th and I'll tell you if machetes really are scarier in 3-D.
Author's note: I had no spellcheck on this and I'm a horrible speller, so I'm sorry if there are any huge mistakes.
This past March we emabrked on what I believe to be the single greatest quest in the history of blogs about bad movies and my time as a telephone psychic. I am, of course, speaking of Grieco Madness. It was two weeks of head-to-head battles that separated the wheat from the Grieco or the Grieco from the chaffe or something like that. Anyway, I know March is still months away, but I'm determined to keep the dream alive and bring the tournament back for a second go around. Now, I'm sure there are movies out there that you'd like to see take a shot at winning at all. Perhaps I haven't seen some of these films or perhaps I've forgotten about them because I spend all of my time writing for The Man and his dastardly products. Who knows. Either way, I want your input on this one, so we can put together some brackets that will blow minds.
Just so you know, Left Behind II: Tribulation Force will try to pick up where the Part I left off and win another one for the Lord. Other than that, the field is wide open. Feel free to submit as many ideas as you like, but remember that the list will eventually be narrowed down to eight, and from those eight, one great champion shall rise.
Season three of "Lost" starts on Wednesday. I'm freaking out. I'll get back to y'all when I've recovered from the awesomeness.
I'm back. Now, let’s never fight again.
Frequent GIK viewers probably know that I have a little crush on Anne Hathaway (the actor, not Shakespeare’s wife). It was brought on during a fever-induced viewing of The Princess Diaries and it has stayed with me ‘lo these many years. Just so you know, she’s older than you think, so I’m not quite as disgusting as some would have you believe. Anyway, the lovely Sherpa, knowing of my crush and harboring her own love of The Devil Wears Prada, rented us up a movie that promised to give a glimpse of Hathaway boob. Yep, Sherpa’s pretty cool that way. Now, we got boob, but we got oh so much more.
Havoc
Desperate to break out of her kid’s movie personae and to break her agent’s heart, Little Anne took on this film about the seedy underbelly of ridiculously wealthy LA teens. Like most wealthy movie teens they’re totally bored, and they deal with their boredom by acting “ghetto.” Now, “ghetto” for them isn’t your typical white kids co-opting black culture by listening to Snoop and saying “son” a lot. No, I’m talking about brawling with rival “crews,” sucking on that crack pipe, and adopting “street” voices. Seriously, Joseph Gordan-Levitt of “3rd Rock” fame sounds like a cross between a grizzled old jazzman, a middle class “Rasta” dude, and Slater from Dazed and Confused. It’s so bad that it will make you embarrassed to be white, a jazzman, middle class, Rastafarian, or human. Oh, and all of this is filmed by a classmate “filmmaker” who’s all American Beauty minus the smoldering eyes. Anyway, one night the kids decide to take things to the next level by visiting East LA and getting down with some serious dealers. The problem is that Anne’s boyfriend (played by a tool that I’ve been calling Son of Chad Michael Haircut) argues with one of the dealers, has a gun put to his head, and pisses his pants. You’d think this would end the poor little rich kids’ foray into “being real,” but it doesn’t. Anne actually goes back and befriends the dealer (Six Feet Under’s Freddie Rodriguez just cashing checks). Soon she and her friend (socialite Bijou Philips) are drawn into the “gang,” which at first just seems to be a lot like my insane extended Italian family but with more guns and a better understanding of volume control. Unfortunately, things turn ugly as Bijou learns first hand about the evils of drugs and violent group sex. There’s a rape scene that might or might not have been rape or something, and some attempted suicide, Anne simulating masturbation, and a collection of other scenes that I’ve tried to wash away, but I still just feel dirty. Eventually Anne’s boyfriend and his crew (JG-L included) mount up to regulate and bring justice to the bangers that may have violated Bijou and definitely made that one guy piss. They storm in, guns held high, and discover a group of young mothers with even younger babies. There’s some screaming, some crying, and a lot of learning, y’all. In the end, Anne learns to be herself. She loses the fake voice, leaves the ghetto, and realizes that her rich friends are no better than anyone else or something.
This movie sucks in a way that’s hard to imagine. However, there are some highlights. Michael Biehn plays Anne’s dad, and you know everything that man does is pure gold, and there are some decent songs on the soundtrack. Other than that, it’s horrible. The only person who walks away from Havoc looking good is Bret Easton Ellis. I mean, at least the young rich douchebags he wrote about were entertaining enough to be played by Spader, Downey Jr., and McCarthy. I’m giving Havoc 1 ½-Griecos. And just so you know, the extra ½ is for Biehn, not boobs. Although….
Dear “Grieco is King” Readers,
I was scanning your precious Internet in search of a Thai hooker I once laid down with while I was shooting an as yet unreleased picture with Sean Astin and the kid from “Mr. Belvedere.” I wanted to get her take on the recent military coup that’s occurred in her homeland. My search led to only one dead end after another, and alas I could not find my sweet Ratchanee. Perhaps she fled before the revolution came or perhaps she’s grown weary of the stench of cheap whiskey and blowjobs. I know not. What I do know is that the search for my beloved brought me to this site, a seemingly once-fruitful pursuit now helmed by a coward. That’s right. I said it. This “#5,” if that is his real name, dares to invoke the name of Grieco time and time again only to then shy away from his duty and slink off in shame. “I’m too busy,” he says. “Work is hard,” he says. Please. Try doing lines off a stripper’s ass and convincing her you still have some pull in Hollywood. That’s freaking hard. But I have strayed from the point. I say this to you now #5 and to all who may read my words; as long as there is breath in this body and fire in these loins I shall remain your King. So #5, cast off these chains of oppression, rise up to meet your fear, and reclaim your rightful place by my side. This, I command!
--RG
A foul wind blows in the East, and I am told that the reign of Grieco may be coming to an end.
Hey y’all, it’s been far too long since Grieco has brought us together. I’m still dealing with work and travel, but there are moments in a man’s life when he must set aside such foolish pursuits and focus on what’s important. Today is such a moment, for I have something to share with you. I think that last night I saw the greatest piece of cinema ever. Nay! The greatest piece of anything ever.
Snakes on a Plane
(This review is brought to you by Red Bull. Red Bull; when you’re tired of being a pussy.)
We open on the lush landscape of one of the Hawaiian Islands (I don’t think they tell us which one). A motocross type flies by on his bike as the sun and tropical fruit highlight his bone structure and his can of Red Bull. Everything’s great until a man (the biker’s dad) falls, suspended from a tree and tells his son to hide. Then, a Hawaiian-Yakuza-dude (yes, the fucking Yakuza is everywhere) shows up and beats the dad to death with a bat and then has a quick one-liner whilst covered in the dead man’s blood. The biker kid speeds off, and the Yakuza guy decrees that the boy (a Chad Michael Haircut type but less offensive) must die. The kid hides out in his room surrounded by cases of Red Bull stacked almost ceiling-high and worries for his life. His worry isn’t unfounded as some Yakuzaish dudes show up at his pad ready to kill, but before they can, Samuel L. Jackson busts in, fires off some rounds, and gets away with the kid. He takes him downtown where a can of Red Bull is neatly displayed in an evidence bag (I shit you not). As the kid (I have no idea what his character’s name is) thinks about his situation he utters the Pinteresque line, “Last week I was planning a surfing trip to Bali,” and the crowd erupts. SLJ convinces the kid to testify back in Los Angeles, and the movie really starts.
The Yakuza folk have sprayed all of the passengers leis with a pheromone that apparently turns snakes into indiscriminate killing machines with a blood lust that cannot be quenched or slaked or sated or whatever it is you try to do with blood lust. But before the mighty reptiles emerge we get a chance to meet the cast of characters: a flight attendant who is one day away from becoming a lawyer (played by a somewhat confused Juliana Margulies); a Paris Hilton type with a dog in her purse; a germophobic rapper named 3 Gs; a chick with a baby; a Brit who actually has the line “Fucking Americans;” some honeymooners; and Keenan of Good Burger and SNL fame.
All right, here we go. Two attractive young people are going mile-high in the lavatory when Boom! Snake on a tit! Yeah, you know it. Then Bam! Snake on a dick! Man, that smarts. From there, it’s pure chaos and flippant dialogue. We get snakes on a boosh, snakes in an ocular cavity, and everything in between. There’s pus, blood, vomiting (Gratuitous? Maybe. Awesome? Indeed.) Oh, the lovely Sherpa would like me to point out that none of the CGI snakes even closely resembles anything that would actually be found in nature. While I’m not near the bio-nerd that she is, I was surprised by the excessive use of bright blue and devil horns. Anyway, the pilots die; SLJ, Queequeg in nature, harpoons a snake; some shit gets burned; the rapper pulls a gun; love blossoms all around; and some truly awesome deaths and equally awesome lines occur at a sidewinder’s pace (sorry). There’s some shit going down on the ground with a scientist that I really wanted to be Jeff Goldblum, but that subplot is totally unimportant. Eventually, Keenan (who’s a Playstation flight simulator addict by the way) takes the stick and lands that bird in LA, and the crowd goes batshit crazy. SLP and Margulies plan a date, the biker kid (remember him?) takes a snake and two slugs in the bullet-proof vest, and he and SLJ go surfing together. Seriously, they go surfing. Cue music video. Now, I wanted the video to be for a rap that 3 Gs wrote in order to cope with his whole snakes on a plane ordeal, but instead it was a video for the righteous theme song from the movie.
Nothing I say will do Snakes on a Plane Justice. It makes Anaconda look like Anaconda 2: Search for the Blood Orchid. If the folks behind Boa vs. Anaconda over at SciFi saw it, they would simultaneously weep and masturbate. I take back everything bad I’ve ever said about SLJ. He’s the Jim McMahon of film. I have to make it to Hollywood in time to write Snakes on a Plane 3: Tokyo Drift. I just have to. So here it is. I’m giving the movie 5-Griecos. That’s right, my friends, I’m creating a new GIK rating just for Snakes on a Plane. 4-Griecos can’t hold this picture; it’s just too damn big for that. Go see it at a theater where you can eat, drink, and yell things at the screen. It will make it even better. And drink some Red Bull, or you might not have the energy to make it through.
Visit this guy’s MySpace page to hear the aforementioned righteous theme song, and visit Moron.NL to get the lyrics for said song.
I miss you like Grieco misses Holly Robinson Peete, but I’ll return in full force on September 5th.
Keep it effing snakes, y’all!
I'm slowly getting things under control with work, and I should be finished with my world traveling in a few weeks. Look to the West during the first week of September for Grieco's return, for the gates of Hell cannot hold him forever.
It's clear that Grieco has struggled of late.
I haven't been able to overcome the issues of work, and therefore I haven't been able to watch any movies. That's why at this time I'm declaring it GIK summer vacation. I have some trips coming up, and I still have to deal with the Man on a regular basis. For the next month, GIK entries will be few and far between, but I swear that after August I shall throw off the shackles of tyranny and quit one of the three jobs that I'm currently working, restoring GIK to its rightful place atop my priority list. Do not, dear friends, forsake me in this time of peril, for together we can return to those glorious days of yore when four posts per week were commonplace and my DVR was filled with Olsen Twin movies and everything the SciFi channel had to offer. These dark times shall pass, and Grieco shall reign once more.
Look to the East.
Drift to live.
I've been looking so long at these pictures of Grieco that I almost believe that they're real.
