Uncle Scoopy's world-weary musings about naked celebrities, sports, humor and other important, manly things.
Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley are fully naked in a feminist sci-fi/horror film about futuristic body enhancement techniques.
Once again, the music confronts you like a rabid sniffer dog, and there is a fascination for naked human skin that Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley quite selflessly oblige, in ways that are never gratuitous.
Buffalo Bill and The Slap Maxwell Story are classics, and most of his other roles are similar – and hilarious. He was a master of obnoxious, deadpan insincerity.
Excerpt:
A Shot At Love With Tila Tequila
Tila Tequila is the world’s trashiest tv personality – and I don’t even think she’d be mad to hear me say it. She relishes controversy, like her support for Hitler, her obviously fake pregnancy announcements and her utterly bonkers dating life. In 2007, she appeared in MTV’s A Shot At Love with Tila Tequila. The premise was that she would pick ‘a shot at love’ from 16 men and 16 women, but they wouldn’t know she was bisexual until the end of the first episode. It ended with her choosing some dude and then promptly never speaking to him again. In the second and last episode, she picked a woman who declined the ‘shot at love.’
I had forgotten about The Simple Life, which the author chose as one of the six. Whoever owns that show should re-run it, now that Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian (who was Paris’s assistant at the time) are famous.
As the good lord intended. Hey, it worked. I bought that model, and it wasn’t easy to get them in my size. (15. My shoes look like Krusty’s.)
Why, this is shocking! I would have used her breasts to sell shoes.
But I guess I’m not practical. It isn’t easy to get boobs and shoes in the same shot.
But they tried:
This list is more of a conversation starter. As a few commenters noted, Hansel and Gretel didn’t have a monstrous budget and is a pretty decent flick.
Their list is missing the very worst ones, as I see it (in near agreement with IMDb and RT).
(1) Cats is rated 2.8 at IMDb (19% at RT) and had a total budget (production plus marketing) of about $200 million. Battlefield Earth and the Rollerball remake have lower scores and/or worse reviews, but I subjectively moved Cats to #1. I don’t think there’s any case to leave it out of the bottom three.
(2) or (3) The remake of Rollerball had a larger budget than Hansel and Gretel (much larger adjusted for inflation), and is rated 3.1 at IMDb, 3% at Rotten Tomatoes. Any critic who gave that a good review should never be allowed to write another review. It has no redeeming elements.
(2) or (3) Battlefield Earth is rated 2.5 at IMDb, 3% at Rotten Tomatoes. It’s a toss-up with Rollerball for the #2 spot. If I absolutely have to choose, I think Rollerball is worse, despite slightly better numbers.
(4) Catwoman is rated 2.8 at IMDb, 8% at Rotten Tomatoes. A solid candidate for #4.
(5) Knight of Cups has mediocre scores at IMDb (5.6) and RT (46%), but gets my subjective vote for #5. It is a worse movie than anything on the Linkiest list. I would rather watch The Lone Ranger or Green Lantern any day.
As one commenter noted, no list of this type is complete without Heaven’s Gate. While it’s not a terrible film, it was so expensive, and its box office was so paltry, that it wiped out a major studio.
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Will anyone be able to make a decent film about Green Lantern? I’ve always found him to be one of the stranger creations of DC. On the one hand he wields almost unlimited cosmic power, capable of defeating Superman himself. On the other hand, what if his nemesis is dressed and face-painted entirely in yellow? Then he’s just some guy wandering around with a cheesy ring and a Coleman lantern. This has actually happened in the comics. Batman and Robin once battled the ol’ Lantern while they were painted yellow in a yellow room. Robin bullied Lantern, taunted him, took his ring away, and would have beaten him to death had Batman not intervened.
So GL can either defeat Superman or get his ass kicked by Robin. It all depends on the spectrum.
“In brightest day, in blackest night,
No evil shall escape my sight.
Let those who worship evil’s might
Beware my power, Green Lantern’s light.
I crush the plans of each evil fellow
Unless, of course, he’s wearing yellow.”
Afterthoughts about Shatner’s birthday:
You know, the verb “to suck” has taken over the world. When I used to say, a few decades ago, “I suck at Asteroids,” women actually got offended. Now everyone says “suck” on family shows and “Meet the Press.” In fact, most of the impolite slang we used in New York and New Jersey in the 1960s has been adopted and legitimized by mainstream society. The only thing they haven’t adopted from our old slang is the traditional “this” response. Example? The priest says, “Dominus vobiscum.” Then you say, “Dominus THIS, Padre,” and grab your crotch. This works on all occasions and as a response to any comment. (Or, as an alternative, you can grab your crotch and say “I got your Dominus right here, Padre”, but my friends found this variant too verbose.). To relate this to the “suck” verb, one guy would say, “your cigar sucks,” and the other guy would grab his crotch and say, “suck THIS.” There you have plenty of merriment and an instant Algonquin Round Table of witty repartee for all occasions.
The co-opting of “suck” by the mainstream culture leads to a lack of gradations. Is it fair to say that Cher’s singing sucks, when this is the same way you would describe Yoko Ono? Of course not. So I therefore propose four degrees of suckeration. To focus on the musicians for a minute, here’s how it would work if they were members of your family.
Shatner is an excellent illustration of this principle, because you might casually say “Bill Shatner sucks as an actor,” and/or “Bill Shatner sucks as a singer,” but the word “suck” doesn’t really mean the same thing in both sentences, does it? As an actor he’s only a first degree suck. He has even shown brief flashes of genius. As a singer, however, he’s not only guilty of fourth degree suckeration, but he could actually be in the fifth degree, since he pretty much sucks deeper and harder than anybody has ever sucked in the history of music. In fact, if Shatner had lived before the age of recording, and your grandpa told you how bad he was, you would think the old boy was exaggerating. Even if you believed your gramps, you would not be capable of imagining how bad the performing was, because there is nothing else to compare it to. If the recordings of Shatner did not exist, we simply could not conceive of anything that bad. In a sense, ol’ Kirk, as much as Newton and Freud, stretched the very boundaries of human conceptualization.
We owe him so much.
Taken from my review of Game of Pleasure, which has nothing to do with Shatner other than being to film what Bill is to singing.
Go crazy, because “real life is for March.”
I have a real soft spot for this episode of 30 Rock, which I would rank among the top twenty sitcom episodes of all time.
(Where is Chuckles the Clown now that we really need him?)
In addition to Leap Day and Chuckles, some of my other nominees:
I’m sure that I must be forgetting many. “The Adventures of Pete and Pete” isn’t a traditional sitcom. It’s an afternoon kiddie show from Nickelodeon, but I’d probably nominate at least three episodes from that show, which may be my favorite comedy of all time. I’d mention some episodes of Arrested Development and the underrated Go On (which one of you turned me on to), but I can’t immediately separate the episodes in my head.
The Marx Brothers on Feb 18, 1957, in the green room of America After Dark.
From left: Harpo, Zeppo, Chico, Groucho and the obscure Gummo. Gummo was in their vaudeville act, but left to enter the army in 1918 and never returned to the act. (He stammered, and never liked performing to begin with.)
Chico, the oldest, was about 14 years older than Zeppo, the youngest. The first four brothers were born in rapid succession (1887, 1888, 1890, 1892), then there was a nine-year gap before Zeppo came along.
America After Dark was a short-lived format change for the Tonight Show, after Steve Allen had moved on. NBC made it kind of a nighttime version of the Today show. It bombed. Within months, NBC hired Jack Paar and went back to the old Tonight Show format.
There was also a transition period in 1962 when Paar left. NBC hired Carson, but Johnny was under contract to do a game show on ABC, so NBC filled in for Paar with various guest hosts for a few months. In that interregnum, they retained the Tonight banner and format.
Dawn’s death leaves Tina Louise (Ginger) as the only surviving cast member from the Île de Gilligan.
Dawn did no nudity in her career, but there was the scene below in a 1965 episode of Gilligan’s Island, specifically s2e2, which was titled “Gilligan Saw My Ass Cheeks.”
This was probably my favorite episode except for the one where the professor built a speculum out of palm fronds and gave Ginger a complete gynecological check-up. Gilligan accidentally stumbled upon the makeshift examining room, and the professor had to hit him on the head with a coconut so he would forget the traumatic sight.
Things were going well until the application of Gilligan’s First Law, which states that any memory loss caused by a falling coconut will be reversed when the victim is struck by a second coconut. For years after his memory was restored, Gilligan was a haunted man, fearing to gaze upon any sort of opening, because his mind would automatically replace the object with the image of Ginger’s coochie.
Gilligan was in therapy for years after they left the island.
They say he never recovered, but some of the mental illness might have been caused by the many concussions he received from being constantly thrashed by the skipper’s hat.
Not to mention falling coconuts.
The imaging legend that is Brainscan assembled these looks at Sarah Miles in The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing
The “man” in the title was played by Burt Reynolds, who is probably remembered as a loquacious man, quick with a quip. Uncharacteristically, he plays it completely straight here as a humorless, laconic cowboy. It seems that this cowboy, Jay Grobart by name, will do anything to reclaim his half-Shoshone children who were cared for by their mother’s tribe while Jay was in prison for murdering the man who raped and killed his wife, the titular Cat Dancing.
As the story begins, Jay has turned into a train robber who needs a suitable amount of money to repay the Shoshone man who has been caring for the two parentless children. As Jay and his gang make their escape from a highly lucrative heist ($100,000 – roughly equivalent to $2 million 2014 dollars. What a train!), they stumble upon a cultured, somewhat prissy housewife named Katherine Crocker (Sarah Miles), who is running away from her wealthy but cruel husband, a dandy who happens to sport a helluva salon tan, since the actor playing him is George Hamilton.
Sarah Miles alone was sufficient to make any film shoot interesting, as much for her antics off-screen as on. You probably know about her extracurricular hanky-panky with Kris Kristofferson while filming a movie called The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea in 1976. They enjoyed their sex scenes in that movie so much that they staged some additional ones for a Playboy pictorial. Kristofferson’s wife, Rita Coolidge, was not impressed by their devotion to the craft, and ended the marriage soon after, a development that Kris professed to regret deeply. Sarah engaged in similar shenanigans on the set of Cat Dancing. During the shoot, her personal assistant and secret lover, David Whiting, was found dead in his hotel room under mysterious circumstances. The resulting investigation and the attendant publicity served to expose the affair between the actress and her assistant, which ultimately broke the back of her marriage to Robert Bolt, a highly respected playwright (A Man for All Seasons) and screenwriter (Lawrence of Arabia).
Movie (and source novel) comments after the jump