YOU MAKE PLANS AND THEN LIFE GETS IN THE WAY
Good grief my friends, has it REALLY been two months? Sixty some days since M-McGuv last put pen to page, sharing his idiosyncratic ideals and inklings with the PC community? Forgive me, dear reader, for one has been bereft of free time, thrust instead head first into the mechanical manipulation of the redundant responsibilities of the real world.
Not that I should worry of course, it’s hardly as if my sporadic blogging has instigated a revolt of any kind. The streets display a distinct lack of ‘MartyMania’ tees and my slender mug remains as anonymous as ever. Yep, my electronical musings are about as essential as my past due prophylactic during those agonising initial evenings out when I first hit that most desired of ages, seventeen. Still, my insatiable ego must be placated and as such I mark my return with an appropriately absurd homecoming. Welcome to my latest creation: MUSINGS FROM THE POETIC PEN OF MARTETH MCGOVERN!
Naturally, some bright spark in the cheap seats will be outraged by my conceited bravado, hurling obscenities at the innocent images reflected by their Packard Bell powerscreens.
“Oi, McGovern,” they’d sneer, “I thought you were hard at work on that there multi-part novelization of your (mis)adventures whilst travelling abroad?” (see my last OnlyBees entry in February, go on…please). Well, it would certainly explain the absence. Alas, I am simply cracking the glass, announcing my reintroduction much like a prizefighter participating in an exhibition bout before the big title clash. I still have lofty plans for my much promised memoirs, just give a guy a break safe in the knowledge that when I do deliver said journals they shall be all the more classic for the extra preparation.
What I’m here to discuss today is that eternally attractive attribute: Originality, or, more fittingly, the lack thereof in modern society, specifically in the current celluloid community.
While I would struggle to call oneself a Pop Culture connoisseur, I certainly consider my perceptive capabilities competent enough to sift through the thousands of feeble fakesters in today’s creative climate, selecting the true artists that apply what should be the number one priority in any inspired endeavour, originality.
Woah now fella, the Marty we all know and love is a sweet natured sensitive soul, a gentle giant who daren’t say ‘shoo’ to a Goose. Where has this venomous onslaught stemmed from? Gosh, I suppose one of the main reasons for this incendiary inking is that I’m just so darned tired of callous retreads and clumsy rehashes. I will spare you all the obligatory ‘When I were a lad…’ speech, after all, I am yet to hit thirty and would bet my spleen that my opinions and views are still wholly relevant. Now more so than ever I’d wager. No, what concerns moi is the blatant plagiarism of previously well-produced and delightfully delivered motion picture marvels.
Examples?
Oh, I got ‘em. Hell son, I got a million of ‘em.
Hellywood (clever, right?) must be runnin’ on empty. What other plausible explanation could possibly exist for my television set flaunting classless trailers for a new ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’ flick? This needless instalment is bolstered by a certain to be chilling performance provided by Jackie Earle Haley. A five foot five character actor whose career highlights include sterling turns in The Waltons, Murder She Wrote and, most impressively, The Love Boat. WHAT??!! Robert Englund WAS Freddie Krueger. Admittedly his career choices have been somewhat questionable since last donning the iconically menacing mitt but nobody could bring such terror, malice and indeed comedy to the boiler room beast.
And how’s about that dynamic director Steve Carr? What’s that? You aint never heard of him? You mean to say you don’t recognise this revolutionary reel rebellionists contributions to modern cinema? Why, he artistically crafted such recent silver screen staples as ‘Dr Dolittle 2′ ‘Daddy Day Care’ and that cautionary comment on a sinking society ‘Paul Blart:Mall Cop’. Not content with shoving the pitiful shallow shell of his former self that is a post-millennial Eddie Murphy down our gullets, he has now made the profound decision to helm a ‘re imagining’ of ‘Short Circuit’. I can only assume the fiercely intelligent sentient robot will still possess the enviable abilities of super fast reading, unintentional crime thwarting and cutting edge street slang that we all thought peaked with “Hey laser lips, your Mamma was a snow blower”! What’s to re imagine?
Honestly, where is the next wave of inspired film-makers, those few true originals aiming to make a splash seldom seen since the days of a young Scorsese or Hitchcock?
Rather depressingly, this torrid trend appears set to continue for the foreseeable future. Reboots of ‘The Karate Kid’, ‘Rosemary’s Baby’ and even ‘Oldboy’(!) are all waiting in the wings, set to limp out to a largely diminished audience not to mention underwhelming box office returns. Perhaps the only beacon of hope on rehash hill is ‘Robocop’, currently being tackled by the usually untouchable Darren Aronofsky. Although his curriculum vitae boasts such terrific treasures as ‘Requiem for a Dream’ and ‘The Wrestler’, I still don’t hold out the highest of hopes for this controversial selection by arguably one of the most original directors of the past decade.
Looks like we are gonna have to ride this one out film fans. This despicable downturn aint goin’ away anytime soon. On the bright side, at least we have many a comical acceptance at The Razzies to look forward to. The ultimate in dishonourable mentions that should shame those Hollywood head honchos into, oooh, I don’t know, throwing their money at a cinematic vehicle that actually has wheels. Sadly, I can only imagine the complete opposite will occur and we shall be subject to that hideous oaf Tom Green’s return in ‘Freddy Got Fingered…again’!
Until next time my beautiful beekeepers
Yours handsomely
Marty McG
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