Stay in Canada, you ignorant prick

To quote an article from Jack Todd of the Montreal Gazette about Game 1 of the Tampa/Montreal NHL playoff series:

This is being generous, but perhaps the Canadiens couldn't get it going in an atmosphere that was more WWE than NHL: Hulk Hogan trying to pump up the crowd before the game, the Hulkster's daughter trying to warble the anthems, a few thousand post-lobotomy cases banging thundersticks (yes, thundersticks - at a playoff hockey game) frantically while barely paying attention to what happened on the ice.

Oh yeah, Sun Belt folks don't know their hockey. After all, if Hulk Hogan was present, it must've been a bunch of rednecks at the game. Well, rednecks and probably some of the legions of old people that live in Florida.

Hey Jack Todd: eat my ass.

He goes on to say:

When it comes to hockey atmosphere, a peewee game in Ile Bizard has more sizzle than the St. Pete Times Forum at playoff time. Trouble is, you don't win a playoff series with atmosphere.

What a prick. Leave it to some pompous ass of a French Canadian prick to insult the Tampa fans. Grow up, this is hockey, it's a sport and it's entertainment.

Mr. Todd himself is quite the outstanding American citizen. He grew up as a Nebraska farm boy and fled north to Canada to dodge the draft during the Vietnam War. He was so proud of his experience running away, he even wrote a book about it.

As for his Canadiens, maybe they are the ones who should stop "barely paying attention to what happened on the ice." Then, maybe the Canadiens will actually win a game in this series.

Hockey is not for pussies. Go home if you can't play.

Alright, admittedly this one happened over a week ago, but I'm ranting about it now because conveniently the Lightning are playing the Montreal Canadiens in round 2 of the Stanley Cup playoffs. I watch hockey religiously, particularly playoff hockey, and the events which I saw unfold in the otherwise fantastic seven game Montreal/Boston series are described in one word: EMBARRASSING.

For those of you who are not filled in, things started with this guy right here:


His name is Mike Ribeiro. He's a winger for the Montreal Canadiens, arguably the most storied franchise in the history of the NHL. Unfortunately that picture above doesn't show off his current pansy-ass wispy French-Canadian playoff beard that he's sporting, so I've provided you kind folks with the following artists' depiction of what my good buddy Ribeiro looks like at the moment.


Now please don't think that I'm only saying this solely because I'm a Lightning fan. I vented on this topic before this playoff series even started, not to mention the fact that many Canadian commentators who also know their hockey had quite a bit to say about the subject.

Ribeiro in game 3 of the round 1 playoff series fell down at center ice following a hit, writhing in pain. His theatrics managed to get a Boston goal disallowed. Moments later, Ribeiro got up under his own power and skated to the bench and laughed it up as his team won the game. Following criticism after the game, Ribeiro blamed it on a pinched nerve.

With the huge uproar that followed, you'd think that players on the Canadiens would have learned their lesson. Right?

Right?!

Apparently not if you're this man:


In game 4 in double overtime, in what will undoubtedly go down as one of the most ridiculous moments in the history of sports, seasoned veteran and Montreal winger Alexei Kovalev tried to "sell" a light slash that was made on his wrist by a Boston player who was attempting to get the puck. Kovalev dropped the puck and collided with one of his own players, and the puck was picked up by a Boston player and brought in for a breakaway goal which ended the game.

Now seriously. If you're playing in the NHL playoffs and you're down 2-1 in the series in a double overtime game, you DO NOT DROP THE PUCK IN YOUR OWN ZONE. I don't care if your Goddamn balls are on fire, you get that puck to another player before you ice them down. THAT'S WHAT YOU GET PAID MILLIONS OF DOLLARS TO DO. Alexei Kovalev is an asshole and he's an embarrassment to the NHL and the entire sport, plain and simple.

The fact that two players for the same team committed two similar acts in consecutive games also suggests something about the character expected of the Canadiens team by the coaching staff. If it takes a faked injury that results in a lost game to make you realize that you fucked up, you don't deserve to be playing in the NHL. You're just an asshole.

Montreal managed to get their act together and came back from a 3-1 series deficit to defeat the Boston Bruins in 7 games and they're currently up against the Lightning in round 2, a series which the Lightning lead 1-0 at the moment. I won't generalize the whole team here, but I will say that I hope the most rewarding part of this series will be if and when Alexei Kovalev and Mike Ribeiro's pansy asses get sent home to ice down their "injuries."

Revenge: Best served with popcorn

If you like action movies and, more specifically, revenge movies, this was your weekend at the movie theater. And if you like it when your revenge flicks are, at times, laughably ridiculous (either on purpose or not), then you were probably a really happy moviegoer no matter what you saw.

Of course, the two biggest movies to come out this weekend were Kill Bill Vol. 2 and the Punisher. Aside from a few movies here and there, the only big reason for me to hit the movieplex in the past few months has been Hellboy. Of course Hollywood likes to get your money at once in bulk, and I'm a slave to the system, so there I was buying tickets two nights in a row.

Of course, Kill Bill and Punisher are not the same movie. Not even close. But the similiarities were worth pointing out.

As I said last October, I enjoyed Volume 1 of Kill Bill. While the story wasn't the most engaging piece of cinema I had seen, the action and cinematography made for a fun, bloody moviegoing experience. If you really enjoyed Volume 1, though, Volume 2 might not be your cup of tea. The first half of the movie might have you thinking that this was all leading up to some unconceivably over-the-top action-packed finale. Volume 2 couldn't be more different, as the film spends a great deal of time fleshing out the characters and backstory that were skimped on in the first half. The result is a very interesting, entertaining, and beautifully shot film that serves as an excellent compliment to Volume 1 but has enough qualities to stand on its own.

I feel the decision to break Kill Bill into two films was the right one. The adrenaline rush of the first half would lead to a second half that would be hard to sit through for a movie that would clock in at over four hours (with no editing done to its current state). Since the House of Leaves from Vol. 1 would have been halfway through the movie as a whole, it would have been much more difficult to appreciate the outstanding performance of David Carradine or the beautiful visuals created by Quentin Tarantino.

As for the other end of the spectrum, the Punisher is the mindless action movie of the 80s reincarnated for the new millennium. This is in no way an insult: my love for dumb, horrible action movies that know how to kill brain cells is nothing new. However, it should serve as a warning for anyone who is expecting something more.

The Punisher comic was never big in the story department anyhow. Frank Castle is Marvel's equivalent of DC's Batman. He's the "superhero" with no superhero powers. Just an alter-ego who takes out the bad guys because of the death of family members. To me, that's enough of a storyline, and the Punisher was one of my favorite comics to read growing up.

The story is contrived, the score is horrible, Travolta is unimpressive, the dialogue is embarassing, yet somehow it all works. Thomas Jane IS Frank Castle and he fills the role perfectly in every scene. A lot of the moments and lines delivered were what I assume to be unintentionally laughable, but in an odd way, it worked. Sure, the crowd was laughing at scenes they probably shouldn't have, but it was still enjoyable.

My personal favorite is when Travolta's wife says something to the extent of "I asked you to avenge our son's death, and you did" before screwing him. Brilliant. As long as dialogue like that is interlaced with people getting knives stabbed through their skulls, I am a happy man.

But really, how can you not like a movie where a 'roided Kevin Nash sporting a blonde crew cut delivers no lines while he throws Frank Castle through walls?

If you cannot resist watching "Bloodsport" (or anything similar) in its entirety every time you see it on TV, "The Punisher" is for you.

Screw Kurt Cobain

Thank God all the Kurt Cobain shit is finally dying down. In case you live under a rock, last week marked the 10th anniversary of Kurt Cobain's suicide on April 8th, 1994. Apparently this Cobain character was the lead singer in this band that sold a lot of records over a short period of time.

It's amazing how the untimely death of an artist can create such a legacy out of so little. Jimi Hendrix was by no means overly popular before his tragic death. It's a well-known fact that Hendrix's only top 20 single was "All Along the Watchtower." So then Jimi did himself in with an assorted drug cocktail and more people took notice. Sure, Clapton's well-publicized love of Hendrix (and his Jimi-influenced clothing and even hair perm in the days of Cream) had an impact on the Hendrix Experience finally penetrating fully into mainstream culture.

Apply all of this to any other person who died "too young" and you see the formula repeat. Thank God no one gives a shit about the Drowning Pool singer, though.

Of course, none of this is to undermine the talents of Hendrix, or Cobain, for that matter. But since Cobain's death "affected" Gen X so dearly, the big question that everyone's asked is "What if?"

What if Kurt Cobain hadn't died? Imagine! Imagine the lost potential! Imagine what could have been! Drown yourself in the sorrows of Kurt Cobain's untimely death.

Fuck that. If Cobain's drugged-out grunge colleagues from the same time period are any indictation, not much more would have come out of Kurt Cobain.

The biggest problem with Kurt living: he would have lived to hear the first Hole album, appropriately titled "Live Through This." Listening to the album is far worse than the most fucked up heroin-induced drug trip Kurt ever experienced, and would more than likely have been enough to make him turn sober.

As with every other artist, including the aforementioned Clapton, everyone knows the quality of music being written by an artist is directly related to the amount of drugs being consumed on an hourly basis. When these artists survive their drug era and try to go clean, the music turns to shit.

Back to reality. Kurt's dead, but people still love him, so that means someone can make lots of money off this unfortunate incident. So with no new material, they rape and pillage what's left, taking recorded songs that were scrapped and turning them into major profit. The American way!

I can't wait for the inevitable "We Are the World"-style benefit song featuring previously unreleased, but now mixed-together recordings from Kurt, Tupac, Notorious B.I.G., Elvis, Jimi, Janis Joplin, Chris Farley and JFK all mixed into one. I'd love to see a Richter scale measurement of the grave spinning that would cause.

So thanks, Kurt, for saving us from an entire lifetime of shitty music from whenever you would have bothered sobering up.

Oh yeah, and thanks for signifying the end of glam rock, when men dressed like women, and instead making rock stars look like my plumber.

Hellboy

It's a good time to be a nerd.

Of all the comic books to be made into a movie, let alone a successful mainstream movie, I would say that Hellboy is one of the last I could have ever expected after reading. For sure, at least, they would bastardize the comic, right? I mean, X-Men and X2 were great, but they still had to get rid of the goofy outfits to get the damn thing greenlighted.

Well, not only is the movie successful, but even the critics like the damn thing.

Director Guillermo del Toro's work on Blade II was promising, and obviously Hellboy has been del Toro's labor of love, thank the Lord. The work shows, the heart of everyone involved paid off, and Hellboy is one of the best comic book adaptations to ever grace the big screen.

Hellboy remains faithful to the comic and Mike Mignola's trademark style. While Guillermo del Toro is responsible for bringing Hellboy to the big screen, the key ingredient for the film's success is Ron Perlman, who perfectly portrays Hellboy in all of his wisecracking tough-guy glory. The heart of Hellboy really shines through Perlman, even with all the makeup covering him from head to toe.

The story itself is based on the initial full-length Hellboy comic "Seed of Destruction." In fact, the movie kicks off nearly 100% exactly like the comic did, right down to the classic photo with Hellboy and Professor Bruttenholm with the U.S. troops.

The film does not rely solely on "Seed of Destruction" however. Some scenes are borrowed from other short stories within the Hellboy universe, most notably "The Corpse" and a finale ripped straight from "Box Full of Evil." The film also offers more backstory on Hellboy's origin than "Seed of Destruction" did, as well as putting Red in some entirely new situations, all of which fit perfectly into the story. Even the little things were included, such as Hellboy's trademark gun or stacks of pancakes being carted into his room.

Hellboy's not perfect, but it's damn near impossible not to be consumed by the unique and entertaining universe created by Mignola and brought to life by del Toro. The film is pure, unadulterated fun. Fantastic action with a great sense of humor and a lot of heart. Appropriately, that sounds a lot like the comic.

Horrible Movie Review: Wild Side

I'll be the first to tell you that having insomnia has its ups and downs. While getting up early in the AM can be quite difficult, you do get the pleasure of seeing all kinds of horrible late night TV. Unfortunately, after a few viewings, penis pill informercials and the latest Ronco product become depressingly stale. Thankfully, there's a whole subculture of bad movies that HBO has the rights to that get shown very early in the morning, and I'm always up watching them.

I'll be honest: I love bad movies. I like watching a horribly done movie just because it's usually those movies that are the most ridiculous and make you wonder "How in Hell did this shit get greenlighted?" It's hard to imagine that millions of dollars were spent on these movies when short stories written by 3rd graders are far more entertaining and intelligent.

And so from time to time here I will review some of these horrible movies. Be forewarned: I am going to ruin every single bit of these movies, so if you by chance wanted to see some horrible movie I'm reviewing and don't want the painful experience you were anticipating to be ruined, don't read.

Today's flick is "Wild Side" from 1995, starring then-lesbian Anne Heche and pre-pop culture fame Christopher Walken. Heche plays a banker who is a recovering sex addict. Her method of "recovery" is working as a prostitute on the side. Makes sense.

Walken plays a picky money-mover who the feds are after, so he has to play things carefully. He decides he wants some lovin', so he picks up Heche for some kinky sex. Things are a bit too hot for Walken, who somehow ends up tied up in a chair, and paranoid Walken begins to suspect that Heche might be working for the feds, so he has his driver (some huge sweaty Italian actor whose name I don't know) take Heche home to check her out.

So the sweaty Italian fruit takes Heche home, rapes her violently on the kitchen table, and then tells her he's a cop.

Huh?

So the cop tells Heche that he's trying to take down Walken and he needs her help. Mind you, the movie never really explains how Heche can help to catch Walken, nor does it make it clear why Walken is such a bad guy (he's even very picky about what avenues of business he gets into), but this is just the beginning.

A few scenes later, Walken's Asian wife decides she wants to deposit a large sum of money in the bank... sure enough, Walken's Asian wife gets Heche as her banker. They go out to lunch, get drunk, and have sex with each other in the women's bathroom.

I've seen a lot of lesbian sex scenes in movies before, and this is one of the more disappointing and awkward ones. This is Anne Heche, who supposedly was doing Ellen Degeneres. You'd hope that she could give us a hotter lesbian scene than this... but oh no... the best sex scene in the movie is yet to come... starring Walken himself and the big sweaty Italian fruit.

That's right. Walken catches Mr. Italy abusing Heche, and Walken (now thinking that Heche isn't a fed) decides he needs to teach his sweaty Italian driver a thing or two about respect. Walken drops his pants, proceeds to bust out a condom, makes the sweaty Italian fruit put the condom on his penis, then Walken rips the pants and underwear off the sweaty Italian fruit, and then bends him over a couch and fucks him.

In the heat of this passionate sex (with Heche watching in horror the entire time), the Asian wife walks in on her husband screwing a large Italian man.

Of course, at this point, it's obvious the movie has done all it can and things can get no better, so in summary, Walken kills the Italian fruit and ends up in jail, and Heche and the Asian ex-wife become lovers and move to Mexico. The end.

Now I'm a fan of most things Christopher Walken does, including the "Prophecy" movies and more recently "The Rundown," but this dogshit is inexcusable. The sight of Christopher Walken screwing a large Italian man will forever haunt my dreams.

One (out of four) stars.