And Superheroes Come To Feast

A lot of you probably saw the title and thought this would be a review of that big superhero movie that came out today. Sorry, Sunshine. I won't be seeing that until Sunday. Instead of living in the Now, let's look toward the World of Tomorrow.

"The Watchmen is unfilmable!" is what I was saying up until yesterday when the hi-def trailer was released on Apple. I'm trying like hell not to get my hopes up about this as I still find it hard to believe that Alan Moore's large, darkly realistic treatment of how the world would probably actually react to the idea of costumed vigilantes could possibly be boiled down to even a 3 hour movie (no idea if that's going to be the movie's length). Still, there's lots of it in the trailer. The Police Strike, Jon Ostermann blowing up, the Silk Spectre's superhot costume (though Malin Ackerman in the costume has a lot to do with it), the Martian fortress and hell, it even has Dr. Manhattan's bedroom antics. So, okay Zach Snyder, maybe this all isn't just the success of 300 going to your head and you'll actually make a decent film out of this.

In other upcoming cinematic superhero news, you have The Spirit. The trailer looks like director Frank Miller stuck a camera in his head and filmed his acid trip but it does have every hot chick in Hollywood. In fact, it looks like they literally ran out of Hollywood hot chicks because they actually had to import one from Spain. The way I experience this film will be the mirror image of the way I experience The Watchmen. I read every word of The Watchmen and, in fact, still have the original 12 issue comic book series secure in their mylar bags. On the other hand, I've never read a word of The Spirit. Not Will Eisner's original strips or Frank Miller's graphic novel update. This denies me the essential right of every comic book fan whose favorite titles get made into movies. I don't get to go on the internet and post 10,000 word ravings about how the movie missed some essential detail...

The Spirit only gets sausage and mushroom on his pizza yet the movie clearly shows him eating pepperoni. WHAT THE MOTHER PUSS DRINKING FUCK DID FRANK MILLER THINK HE WAS DOING?

So, was Eva Mendes the right woman to play Sand Seref? Why are you asking me? Sand Seref could come up and kick me in the balls and I still wouldn't know who the hell she was. I know nothing about this story which at least means I'll be able to judge it for what it is rather than its source material. Again, this will deny me the right to have my rage build slowly throughout the movie over the fact that Scarlett Johannson's character was supposed to have a different accent than what she had until finally the credits roll and I yell out in the middle of a crowded theater, "THAT WAS THE GAYEST, MOST RETARDED THING I'VE EVER SEEN!" and get to experience that moment of extreme embarrassment when everyone starts staring at me but also feel that moment of fellowship when one other guy says, "That's because of Silken Floss's accent, right? RIGHT ON, BROTHER!"

Oh, one more thing. This and Jumper will make two movies in a row where Samuel L. Jackson looks like the guy who staggers alone out of the gay bar at 3 AM. Not sure if this is a coincidence or if he's trying to tell us something but Sam, we'll accept you either way.

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