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A Tangmonkey For The Third Millennium
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The Hideous Sun Demon
3.9.2002 by , every Thursday.
 Can't get enought Ash? You should be reading Pulp!
Guess what? I’m still alive! I know some of you may have worried that I succumbed to a dark, uncommunicative existence filled with late-night infomercials and scrambled pay-per-view pornography, finally wasting away from malnutrition and radiation poisoning, but I assure you this is not the case. While the first part of that statement may be true, there is still enough strength left in me to post a column or two, provided I don’t get too distracted by half-hour ads for the George Forman Grill. Despite my previous promises, this week is dated as well, but it’ll do as a temporary substitute for PULP, which I swear is coming out this week. Until then, tide yourselves over with another week in the life of Ash Carreau.
Saturday, January 19
Kurt and Courtney
This controversial documentary begins as an examination of the various conspiracy theories surrounding the death of Kurt Cobain, but ends as a somewhat incoherent vendetta against Courtney Love. This is, however, not a criticism, as Love’s band Hole, along with Veruca Salt and the rest of the delinquent Grrl Rock movement, tops my list of reasons women’s shelters should have locks on the outside.
Deep Red
Early Dario Argento film that proves that no matter how messed up life gets here in North America, the Italians have it worse. Not only do they not speak English, they can’t go five minutes without killing a girl with a sharp object. While I have no complaints with this policy, as years of watching feminine marketing power keep The Oprah Winfrey show on the air at the expense of Beast Wars have made me bitter and hostile, it tends to cast the refined aesthetics of foreign film in a whole new light.
Sunday, January 20
The Blob
I don’t care how stupid Hollywood thinks I am, Steve McQueen was never a teenager. The guy’s craggier than a wallet made from Tommy Lee Jones, and here he is playing a high school kid drag racing and worried about curfew. Luke Perry as an adolescent I can buy, mainly because he clearly has a pre-teen IQ, but I’m having trouble picturing Steve do anything but drink Metamucil and polish his dentures, let alone struggling through the trials and tribulations of teenage life.
Monday, January 21
American Pie 2
Well, this was fun. The exact same bad jokes in the exact same bad places, plus you get more of the Mongoloid pairing of Mena Suvari and Chris Klein. Why those hideous abominations were allowed to be in a movie together, let alone mate, is beyond me, but then again these are the same people who thought that Jason Biggs screwing a pie was funny instead of just alarmingly deviant.
Tuesday, January 22
World Without End
Planet of the Apes precursor that has a team of astronauts traveling forward in time to a post-apocalyptic world ruled by mutated cavemen and the British, who live in technologically advanced underground caves. This irks our All-American crew, who seem to be uneasy unless they’re killing something, and the plot follows their attempts to get the British to murder off the mutants and regain control of the surface world. If you ask me, the world is better with the Brits underground, because granite and limestone walls prevent broadcasts of Absolutely Fabulous.
Wednesday, January 23
Lolita
Nothin’ says lovin’ like diddling a 14 year old. Charmingly obscene Kubrik movie that deals with the lust James Mason has for an extremely underage nymphet. Thankfully, there are enough laughs in this picture that you can pretend you like it for the comedy instead of the pre-teen in the bikini.
The Evil Dead
Somehow, I feel that a week without seeing Ellen Sandweiss getting raped by a tree limb is a week without joy.
Thursday, January 24
Solaris
While Russian sci-fi may seem like a good way to spend three hours, closer inspection reveals that there are more effective ways to bore yourself to death, like Emily Bronte novels or late-night SCTV marathons.
Friday, January 25
Bubble Boy
While not funny in the conventional sense of the word, Bubble Boy is at least marginally entertaining, in that random patterns of light flashing across a TV screen is slightly more engrossing that sitting in absolute silence and staring at the microwave until your eyeballs cook. This is the same premise under which Moulin Rouge was made.
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