October 3, 2007

The Raping of My Childhood

Not content just to create unwanted and wholly unnecessary sequels, nominate superficial and obvious social commentary films for the highest of awards, only praise actors who can play "handicapped" or "ugly", and continue to concern itself over the affairs of Lindsay Lohan, Hollywood is also continuing to branch out in the genre known exclusively as "The Rape and Pillage of Gen X Childhood Loves".

Contributions to this new genre include (but are not limited to) The Cat in the Hat starring Mike Myers, How the Grinch Stole Christmas starring Jim Carrey, The Dukes of Hazzard starring Jessica Simpson, Scooby Doo starring Freddie Prinze Jr, Miami Vice starring Michael Mann's ego, Nancy Drew starring Emma Roberts, and even Transformers starring that kid whose name I refuse to learn. Transformers I can forgive because it kicked ass and because really, how else did I expect giant robot vehicles from space to look? Well, exactly. Like that. Like, um, giant robot vehicles from space. But the others are unforgivable. (Much like Diddy's new fragrance.)

Not content to bask in the glory of all the childhood staples so far mangled beyond recognition, Hollywood has another on offer:

If you don't recognize the poster, God has seen fit to bless you. But I'm here to destroy that peace of mind by telling you that it's a live action version of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Well... by "live action" I mean the usual slew of Hollywood wannabe actors roughing it alongside a blue screen upon which will later be rendered terrible CGI versions of what used to be innocuously cute animated chipmunk pop stars. Alvin and the other Chipmunks are now some sort of Scooby-Doo-esque hip hop nightmare. That's right. I did indeed say "hip hop". Note the 1980s-esque Run DMC jackets they sport on the poster. Jason Lee inexplicably stars as the sole human with an acting resume. (Though doubtless this movie will take care of that in short order.)

Dear Hollywood,

I protest this wanton abuse of my childhood for purposes of unholy fiscal gain! I protest taking every single one of my Saturday morning memories and flushing them through the open sewage that doubles as Hollywood film-making today! I AM MAD AS HELL AND NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANY MORE!!

Listen up, Hollywood. It's bad enough that you gave Cuba Gooding Jr. and Kevin Costner Oscars. It's certainly bad enough you named Titanic as Best Picture over L.A. Confidential. It's atrocious that you made sequels to Daddy Day Care and Miss Congeniality and have one in the works for National Treasure. But my god I have to draw the line somewhere. To quote Jean-Luc Picard, "the line must be drawn here"! It's drawn! Consider this the line! Rape your own reality shows. Loot and plunder your own recent archives. But leave my childhood alone, dammit!

I hope for your sakes that Horton Hears A Who is spared by the fact that it's animated but the double whammy of it starring both Jim Carrey and Steve Carell doesn't exactly inspire me with hope. Hollywood, it's time to face facts. You suck. Either let somebody with a decent original idea have a go at making a movie once in awhile or fucking retire.

Call me if you need some scriptwriter names. I'm serious about this. Straighten up. Get your collective lips off Paul Haggis' and Brett Ratner's asses and start actually reading things before you greenlight them. Sequels are not a foregone conclusion. There was usually a reason something was animated in the first place. Dane Cook is not a real star. Got it? And stay away from Jem. And don't touch The A-Team.

The Pissed Off VampireNomad