As Seen On TV: The Movie!
Yes ladies and gentlemen, Hollywood is officially out of ideas. The last decade or so has seen the rise of nearly countless (and almost universally reviled) big screen versions of televisions shows, which in most cases weren’t all that great to begin with. The Little Rascals, McHale’s Navy, My Favorite Martian, The Avengers, Lost in Space, and Wild Wild West, are just a few examples of this incomprehensible phenomenon. Note that according to the Internet Movie Database these “films” scored an average of 4.25 stars out of a possible 10, with “Little Rascals” the most polished of these turds with 5.2 stars. The Brady Bunch movie actually scored higher, but I omitted it from this list as thinking about that movie makes me stabby. More recently it was the two “Charlie’s Angels” snooze-fests and the so-so Starsky & Hutch. (I must admit this last one is sort of a guilty pleasure of mine; I have seen it twice on cable, and neither time did I attempt suicide.)
This summer we’re going to be subjected to two more: Bewitched and the Dukes of Hazzard. Lucky us! Where’s a Futurama suicide booth when I really need it? Although I still wouldn’t pay to see it, at least Bewitched has a modicum of a chance at being decent. Will Farrell is just so damn likeable, and Nicole Kidman doesn’t bug me either. But dear lord, the Dukes of Hazzard? Although I am amused that Cooter's all hepped up about them sexin' up his ol' family show, but why do studios insist on pumping out movies that are practically guaranteed to lower the intelligence level of any audience that watches them? What coked-up, Evian swilling, prostitute boffing sleazoid greenlit this smoking pile? I can see it now…
INTERIOR, studio executive’s office. Wide shot of EXECUTIVE splayed on leather couch, Armani pants pooled around his ankles. The bleached-blonde head of male PRODUCER bobs enthusiastically in EXECUTIVE’S lap as we PAN IN.
EXECUTIVE: Have you seen the latest demographics? We’re losing Middle America. We can’t get the sheep to shell out 15 bucks to see “Crash”. It’s just too deep for the American public. Ditto “Cinderella Man”. The critics love ‘em, but those fuckers don’t have to buy their tickets.
PRODUCER (offscreen): Mmmph. ::slurp:: Grrbbll prrmph grmpbst.
EXECUTIVE: We need something that’ll appeal to the mainstream Red Staters. Is there any way to get a sequel out of Passion of the Christ? No, Gibson would want to direct again, scratch that. But besides religion, what else appeals to hillbillies? Wait! I’ve got it! Beverly Hillbillies, the Movie!
PRODUCER: Prbtth krmff grmmps fnnrk!
EXECUTIVE: Oh, that’s right, we did that already. And it flopped. What was the gross on that?
PRODUCER: Glrrrg.
EXECUTIVE: Yeah, that’s dismal. Plus, there was really no crossover marketing. What were we going to sell? Granny’s bonnets? Ellie Mae’s daisy dukes?
CLOSEUP of EXECUTIVE’S face as his eyes widen and a large grin splits his face.
EXECUTIVE: Yes! That’s it!!
CUT TO PRODUCER as EXECUTIVE’S knob slips from his mouth.
PRODUCER: You have an idea?
EXECUTIVE: No, I’m about to come! Don’t stop you fat pig!
TIGHT SHOT on EXECUTIVE, whose eyes roll back in his head in orgasmic bliss.
EXECUTIVE: Aaaaaahhhh! That’s better. So where were we? Hillbillies… daisy dukes… fat pig…
EXECUTIVE & PRODUCER (simultaneously): DUKES OF HAZZARD! They give each other a high five.
PRODUCER: That’s fucking brilliant boss!
EXECUTIVE: Of course it is. That’s why I’m in charge. I’ve noticed you’ve started swallowing by the way.
PRODUCER: Yeah, I’m on Atkins now. Protein’s where it’s at. Should I get started on the casting?
EXECUTIVE: Yes, first thing in the morning. Right now I need you to toss my salad.
PRODUCER: ::slurp::
Oh, and one last thing. Jessica Simpson is NOT hot. She has a nice body. She might have even been pretty cute, freakishly masculine lantern jaw not withstanding. But as soon as she opened her mouth and revealed the intelligence of asscrack lint, she got real ugly real quick.
This summer we’re going to be subjected to two more: Bewitched and the Dukes of Hazzard. Lucky us! Where’s a Futurama suicide booth when I really need it? Although I still wouldn’t pay to see it, at least Bewitched has a modicum of a chance at being decent. Will Farrell is just so damn likeable, and Nicole Kidman doesn’t bug me either. But dear lord, the Dukes of Hazzard? Although I am amused that Cooter's all hepped up about them sexin' up his ol' family show, but why do studios insist on pumping out movies that are practically guaranteed to lower the intelligence level of any audience that watches them? What coked-up, Evian swilling, prostitute boffing sleazoid greenlit this smoking pile? I can see it now…
INTERIOR, studio executive’s office. Wide shot of EXECUTIVE splayed on leather couch, Armani pants pooled around his ankles. The bleached-blonde head of male PRODUCER bobs enthusiastically in EXECUTIVE’S lap as we PAN IN.
EXECUTIVE: Have you seen the latest demographics? We’re losing Middle America. We can’t get the sheep to shell out 15 bucks to see “Crash”. It’s just too deep for the American public. Ditto “Cinderella Man”. The critics love ‘em, but those fuckers don’t have to buy their tickets.
PRODUCER (offscreen): Mmmph. ::slurp:: Grrbbll prrmph grmpbst.
EXECUTIVE: We need something that’ll appeal to the mainstream Red Staters. Is there any way to get a sequel out of Passion of the Christ? No, Gibson would want to direct again, scratch that. But besides religion, what else appeals to hillbillies? Wait! I’ve got it! Beverly Hillbillies, the Movie!
PRODUCER: Prbtth krmff grmmps fnnrk!
EXECUTIVE: Oh, that’s right, we did that already. And it flopped. What was the gross on that?
PRODUCER: Glrrrg.
EXECUTIVE: Yeah, that’s dismal. Plus, there was really no crossover marketing. What were we going to sell? Granny’s bonnets? Ellie Mae’s daisy dukes?
CLOSEUP of EXECUTIVE’S face as his eyes widen and a large grin splits his face.
EXECUTIVE: Yes! That’s it!!
CUT TO PRODUCER as EXECUTIVE’S knob slips from his mouth.
PRODUCER: You have an idea?
EXECUTIVE: No, I’m about to come! Don’t stop you fat pig!
TIGHT SHOT on EXECUTIVE, whose eyes roll back in his head in orgasmic bliss.
EXECUTIVE: Aaaaaahhhh! That’s better. So where were we? Hillbillies… daisy dukes… fat pig…
EXECUTIVE & PRODUCER (simultaneously): DUKES OF HAZZARD! They give each other a high five.
PRODUCER: That’s fucking brilliant boss!
EXECUTIVE: Of course it is. That’s why I’m in charge. I’ve noticed you’ve started swallowing by the way.
PRODUCER: Yeah, I’m on Atkins now. Protein’s where it’s at. Should I get started on the casting?
EXECUTIVE: Yes, first thing in the morning. Right now I need you to toss my salad.
PRODUCER: ::slurp::
Oh, and one last thing. Jessica Simpson is NOT hot. She has a nice body. She might have even been pretty cute, freakishly masculine lantern jaw not withstanding. But as soon as she opened her mouth and revealed the intelligence of asscrack lint, she got real ugly real quick.
posted by Joe Ebola at 7:36 PM
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