Huh. I feel like I regularly start these out by asking a few questions and maybe I should try something new. I don’t want any reader to get tired of me out here and poo poo me away. So what can we do? What can we do? I’ll have to think about this in real person time and come back here later.

Today Joe Spinell rises from his own grave to guest introduce this post!! “MA!!MA!! MA!!! MAAAAAAAAAAAA!! Ma! I’m writin’ ma! I’m writin! Ma! I’m writin’ for some guy’s blog ma! He watched my movie, ma! The one with all the boobs and the blood and the stalking ma! Ma! Remember when we smoked that doob ma? I know it was the tropical heat but I sure did sweat a lot ma! And my hair! Sheeit! It might look better now ma! Ma!”

You know what? That wasn’t very much fun. Maybe I should bring back that Greek guy from the Arcadian review. Or maybe I should go way way back and bring out Shit Boy. Way back in the early days of this blog. “Itth my penith.” announces Shit Boy pointing at the hog leg in his pants. “Be careful of it.” He shushes. “Lithen! The thun is angry! Thtop looking at me penith! It riseth it riseth! ”

Maybe I should just stop that too and get on with things.

Joe Spinnell stars in this movie about a stalker / super fan who wants to make his own movie starring this lady with two colors in her hair and not in two colored hair orders that I’m used to. He wants to direct, see, he has this great idea in mind, see? He might just need to do some killing and bathroom stalking and movie theater self gratification, see? So naturally he goes to the Cannes film festival to make her be in his movie.

I wasn’t a big fan of anything that happened in this movie. Spinnell, who people may really like, kind of drove me crazy, especially in the dream sequences when he seemed really sweaty. I didn’t like the lead actress lady too much because her hair really distracted me and she seemed just to be there to show off some leg and act like no one believes anything she said about the guy bringing her a tray of champagne through her bathroom window because she’s a woman and should just go take a sedative or tranquilizer or something. I also didn’t like the grossness of the 70s New York or the producer guy at Cannes or the “American” guy with the Trans Am or Corvette I forget which one it was. “Yeeee haw I’m American!” He whoops and hollers slapping his thighs with his cowboy hat. “Hoot hoot and prairie fire! Where’n I go get some taters and big o booties? Whoop whoop! Statue of Liberty! Dallas Cowboys!”

I also didn’t care much for the noisiness around the whole thing or the glamour and flashbulbs or the people waiting in line to use a phone with all of those mouth and ear germs on it and I also didn’t like this new blueberry vinaigrette Italian dressing I spent five dollars on at the store last week. Speaking of the store, while I support older people and listen to the elderly when I can, I did not like the lady who crowded me at the deli counter this weekend kind of pressing me near a column where I was going to have to reach OVER the scale to get my three containers of Greek cucumber salad to eat for lunch this week. I also didn’t particularly like the supporting actor’s semi-perm which is not pictured in the pic below that’s just a clip from this movie I found on the World Wide Web.

Recently I also mentioned how I don’t like Jake Gyllenhall and this beautiful person asked me why and I did some Eric Undead Deep Thought^TM and after days of reflection and immersing myself in a sensory derivation tank* I came to the conclusion that it had to be from when I saw Nightcrawler and his hairdo and neckline really burrowed itself into my brains and I was never able to get over it

I don’t really see the difference between these two psychopaths above. And while I recognize Spinnell really from Maniac and Rocky of all things, it looks he died not too long ago so I can’t really go see any of his new movies and any sort of residual dislike I may or may not have for the guy has passed but I just can’t get over Gyllenhaal and I have this feeling that he smells. And I’m not saying that like someone just trying to toss an insult around, I feel like he might smell kind of like Brendan Gleeson looks like he might carry an odor around. Or Joyce Carol Oates**. But oh well and that’s that and I either need to just get over it or stop thinking about it or something and maybe send his agent some soap so he can use the chemicals in the soap to break down the water molecules and cleanse the bacteria on his skin instead of rubbing himself with foreign oils and hoping no one notices the scent.

THIS MOVIE FILED UNDER: NOT SO GREAT AND BAD HAIRDOS AND DISCOS AND DOOBS AND JOYCE CAROL OATES AND FOREIGN OILS AND THE SULTAN OF SAG USED TO HAVE A SMELL TO HIM JUST SO YOU KNOW I’M NOT PLAYING FAVORITES AND FOR FURTHER CLARIFICATION I WAS THE SATRAP OF SAG NOT THE SULTAN AND I WAS NEVER A SAGMASTER

JAKE GYLLENHALL AND BRENDAN GLEESON FILED UNDER: POTENTIAL SEVERE ODOR ALERT

*If there is something I would never do it would be to immerse myself in a sensory deprivation tank because I’VE SEEN ALTERED STATES!!!!!!

**I also have nothing against Joyce Carol Oates and think she’s a great writer I just feel like she might be one of those folks who carry a scent. A long time ago I used to have a page on this blog that I called Tasteful Nudes that I took down one day because I wasn’t pleased with my artistry or the amateur work I was able to do with design but here’s one I did of Oates to give you an idea. And that’s not supposed to be hair I was trying to block out the sensitive parts: