Marcus Bachmann Is A Homo

THE KILLOUGH CHRONICLES | REVIEW

by James Killough

I didn’t want to spoil my Bridesmaids experience by going to see Bad Teacher, but there is little to see in the dry summer months before the fall deluge of quality films, so you can’t be as choosy as usual.  As you may know by now, both movies are post-feminist broad comedies (again, forgive the pun) about chicks behaving like gross-infused dudes, and being utterly believable.  Both films are pleasing cultural milestones to be a part of; this is genuine equality given freely and willingly, not demanded just because it is deserved and therefore stilted, forced, maybe sententious.

A rather implausible position to sleep in, but the PR gal at Louboutin was thrilled.

Bad Teacher is the lesser film, no question.  It is School of Rock next to There’s Something About Mary, which first showed us Cameron Diaz’s extraordinary comedy chops, and which still remains quite possibly the funniest movie I’ve ever seen.

You Don’t Make Crap

THE KILLOUGH CHRONICLES | THE INDIA FILES

by James Killough

Flipping mindlessly, sleepily through the chattering polyglot channels of Indian TV last night in my hotel room, I landed on a station that screens Hollywood films, the kind I would never ordinarily watch, i.e., the majority of films that are made.  Ivan Reitman’s My Super Ex-Girlfriend was on.  Wow, what a crock of shit.  Unwatchable.  I cannot imagine how Uma Thurman must have made it through a single day of shooting that clownish cack without taking her eye off her mortgage payments.

Uma Thurman rocking the widest, longest red carpet in the whole wild world at Cannes in a damned fine gown. And taking a photo call ass-first.

During a showdown between Uma Thurman’s ex-girlfriend character and Anna Faris’s current girlfriend character, the word “bitch” was bleeped so as not to offend sensitive Indian ears.  The subtitles, which translated American into standard English, substituted “bitch” with “witch.”  That blip of stringent censorship helps to understand why studios are so relentlessly inclined toward making nothing more rattling than a PG-13 film. Even the anodyne The King’s Speech has been modified to take out the whole “fuck” sequence with a view to broadening the film’s marketability, as if an Oscar sweep weren’t enough.  As a result, it has made over four hundred million worldwide, and will continuing pumping money for years to come.