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Golden Age of Grotesque We aim to depress...

#1 User is offline   rangwe Icon

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Posted 24 May 2005 - 11:27 AM

I got a monkey in my pocket and man is he ready to chee!

As Darth Faker gimped into melodramatic poise I couldn't help but think I was watching a Marilyn Manson Video. Two words sum up this movie: Vaudeville (short variety stage acts) and Grotesque (ludicrous or incongruous distortion of looks/activity). Unfortunately, the only audience intended for this self-reflective exercise appears to be the narcissistic creator.

Beavis, ready the spoon shot for the screen, please. Huh-huh, preach on, brother Rangwe!

That people actually believe the jedi mind trick that is compensatory double-talk for a reduced-for-quick-sale crap fest is hilarious! People will buy anything if its uttered using the magic phrases of "its better than tweedle dum and tweedle dee" or "this limb attachment is darker than the others - for her pleasure". Check please!

No, it isn't the best of the three, it is the *worst*, substituting that most basic element of mirth, "the fun factor", for a ride through the carnival House of 1000 Corpses. Would you like chick'n wings with that fright night, sir? What you get is a loong, dull parade of vulgar slapstick comedy routines where every utterance is mechanical, like the animatronix house of wax actors recreating moments from past horror films where the thrill was visceral and fresh enough to tingle your groin-stem as a secret decoder alegory for sexual excitement.

But this isn't fresh teen stag-up you folks are getting, its 40-plus posers woodenly extolling you to believe them when they tell you what a big fan you are. You're thinking lobster, huh-huh, yer gettin' Burger King!

Watch the two-headed Jedi with Laugh-track droid fight their way through Iraqi Droids with "I can Change I can Change" Saddam personality chip pre-removed for the Jaws-The-Revenge 3-D revision! Fly "The Goddess", the Gucci manikin with revolving outfits who recites her lines when you pull her string! Yup, its a doll drop - one doll, one drop. Play the shell game and guess under which Jedi Master's wooden cap a fine acting career used to exist! Feel the Emperor's horror as he realizes his galactic empire is made up of a half-dozen washed-up actors and about a thousand Matrix holograms! Can he tell the difference? Can you? Ain't nuthin' like the real thing, bay-bee. And you won't want to miss Agent Chewbacca replicate himself for a battle against the terroris....err separatists gleefully throwing themselves forward to the slaughter so we can feel "secure". Upgrade that Separatist alert will you, Agent Elrond?

I mean, c'mon, even if I buy the jedi = murder and hoes equation, give me some real base slaking of my Morbius Id for frek's sake. Yeah, there's lots of champagne in the champagne room, but I don't *want* champagne. Stop pretendin' like there's a plot here with Monte Cristo political substance and Rubicon moral decisions, I want to see evil *triumph*.

I already know that the heroes are doomed to die for nothing but an action figure remembrance somewhere in some kid's subconscious, so show me what a *triumph* for evil really means in real life. Lets see death camps for the virtual republic rubes-on-the-street who were allowed to think they voted for this better of two evils. Lets watch people fall into the gutter and *live* in hopeless misery, denied the swift mercy of the lightsaber to the mid-drift as they build bigger and badder Pentium Powered Star Destroyers. Those jedi "younglings" were the *lucky* ones! Lets see Vader living in a mansion, getting fat on life-support and Sciavo-brand steak-flavored eye-vee and getting his fried fahitas jiggled by MTV Rocks babes! How about Clonetroopers going on a rampage and looting museums of fine art down to size, plundering the locals for every orifice of delight, wallet-size included.

Am I really supposed to believe that a republic of senators whose ass was bought millenia ago voted for Caesar and *didn't* get in on the action of boot-to-the-head exploitation forever? The only senator complaining was Bail, realizing he missed his re-election goal and making some faux-liberal one-liner to excuse why he spent so much time doped up and doing Padme when Anakin was "away on mission". Go back to "Damned Yankee Land", hippe!

Who cares about Vader? I don't. Anybody here planning to model their life after him? Neither ordinary folks nor people who own the world would *ever* see him as role model or a "hero" of any kind. Why would anyone let their kids see this bantha poo-doop-dee-doop is beyond me. I want my kids to be *winners* who will support me in my old age, not crippled whiners serving some pretend evil middle manager.

Is there any sex in the Padme-Anakin relationship? Even of the lowest, wham bam thank you space-man type!? The whole world they live in appears devoid of sensation. Its like living with the Nazgul. Anakin looks like he's afraid his dick will fall off when he's talking to Padme. Padme looks like she doesn't even know what Pregnant *means*, let alone how it happened. Politician must mean something completely different in the Star Wars world.

The set-up is obviously that of a sex-only relationship, so why don't they act like it? At least then we could render a legitimate judgement of "I don't want to be like that/oh I'm so jealous/how do I get my relationship to be that hot". Padme doesn't even take her clothes off in bed! She's wearing the same maternity and beads LL Bean fashion she was in the previous scene! Its a sick, sordid vision of life, this anti-honest-I'm-in-it-for-the-booty and anti-real-life-this-is-how-relationships-work necromancy! Riker has more dick than Anakin for frek's sake! Send them both to the Porno Mines of Lexx for two days and call me in the morning!

I could go on, but I'm reaching my word limit and I want to save some spunk for the next attack. You have a vision of the damned, living in hell where they can touch nothing, destroy nothing, in eternity unfulfilled and unliving. The victims, when they are supposed to be alive, bleed not. The droids, who never dream of electric sheep and despite cries of pain, are slaughtered with glowing parody. The women, when they exist, are sex objects with no interests and importance only when they are suspected of being "tainted" by some other jedi's midichlorine count. Lucas has entombed his creation in a mausoleum of the grotesque, mummifying his own heart and casting it in bronze as a shriveled artifact somewhere in the DVD special features. I stand gazing at this theater of the absurd as the curtain closes until the next Stones preservation tour and feel naught but sadness.

To all the basher-haters out there: Its all there in black and white, clear as crystal. You LOSE. Good day sir!

- rangwe
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