9. EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT
A FIGURE descends to the rooftop and looks about, cautious.
FRANCHISE BOY P.G.--it's me! I'm all right!
(from off camera)
SHADOWY FIGURE Franchise Boy! You're alive! I thought the worst!
(sees him and is startled)No need to worry, boss. I knew you'd go and stop that new Children of the Corn film from happening, so it was up to me to save myself. FRANCHISE BOY
But however did you prevail over that fiend? SHADOWY FIGURE
I dared him to make David Lynch's Lost Highway more convoluted than it already was. He took me up on the dare, and overloaded himself trying to make it happen. FRANCHISE BOY
SHADOWY FIGURE That's brilliant, partner! I'm very proud of you. But you're not upset that I had to stop the sequel first, are you?Of course not, in an alternate version of a scene, I did just that myself. FRANCHISE BOY
But if you know that happened, how could it be out of our continuity? SHADOWY FIGURE
Just pretend you're in an X-Men comic, then it all becomes clear. FRANCHISE BOY
Some Random Episodes of Metaphysical Singularity
Holy frijoles, we survived 1998, my good friends. Can you believe it? I can't. I thought for sure back in June when I drank that case of Surge in an hour and a half on a dare that it was curtains for your friend and mine, the Widgeman. But since whatever deities were at hand (Hepzibah, Goddess of Squirrels?) decided to spare my bitter, arrogant existence, it was obvious that I was meant to carry on this crusade against normality. I thank each and every one of you for sticking with me through this journey of spiritual enlightenment and non-refundable soda bottles that was my year at Corona. I wish I had something to send you guys as thanks, but after the New Year's Party at the Sleep Deprivation Institute , all we have left are stale soda crackers. So whatever. But now we have a whole new year to pillage, so I say we get started immediately.
I plan on posting my Top and Bottom 10's of '98 just as soon as I can see all the obvious ones that haven't hit Iowa yet, like, oh I don't know, Thin Red Line, Civil Action, Rushmore, etc. The usual suspects to be sure. Then I've got to go check out the Top 10 Lists that everyone else has and make sure I've seen their picks so I can refute their claims if necessary. I never maintain that anyone should share my opinions--that would be rude. I instead am positive that any right-thinking arrogant coffee-chugging person like myself will see things my way. Or if not, they don't get any sugar with their java. It's that simple.
And speaking of java, a lot of people have wondered about the kick ass cartoons that Corona's very own Gary Hudson has provided for your dancing and dining pleasure. I didn't mention them last time because the editors here kinda sprang them on me. I think they rock, so thanks to Gary for giving my spleen an actual inked incarnation. And to answer your question--No, in real life, I'm not a sheep. But I do wear antlers on occasion. And I may not smoke, but you can be sure that the coffee mug is my constant companion. Next thing you're going to ask if Bill the Cat was actually a cat in real life. You gullible people.
So anyway, off we go to what I think are the awards that are necessary to give out at this time, since as we stated previously, everyone else is doing it. So I give you without further adieu...
The 1998 Widgett Awards
These fine awards are of the finest crafted unobtainium, molded in the shape of a coffee mug with a crack down the side. A beautiful addition to anyone's mantel. And away we go--
The "Did You Adapt That Film on Drugs?" Award. This goes to John Carpenter and company for their butchering of John Steakley's novel, Vampire$. I figure maybe 5% of that book made it to the screen and that 5% was James Woods' character's name. I hope someday somebody actually makes that book into film, because it would kick some major heiney.
The Americanization Sucks Award. Goes to the people who managed to take an incredible film, Wings of Desire, which was about faith, humanity, love, life--all the big things, and turn it into a one-note tearjerker that is not even a shadow of its German self. That's right--City of Angels. There's nothing to be said for a film who's tagline should have been, "You will believe an angel can have a boner."
The Silliest Studio Trend Award. See if this sounds familiar. A film is scheduled to come out, but no screenings for the critics are scheduled. The critics instantly assume that the film is bad because X, Y and Z films did the same thing and sucked rocks. The studios counter "No, we just want the public to make up their minds on their own." The film comes out, guess what--it sucks rocks. Everytime the studios say "No, we want the public to decide and not the critics" I want you to hear "The film sucks. We know it does. But we're stuck with it, so the most we can do is hope that enough uninformed people show up the first weekend so we can cut our losses." Because that's what they're really saying. Silly studios.
The Most Unique Murder Weapon Award. The award goes to the curb used in American History X. God, do I have to say anything else? Yikes.
The "Better Off as a One Act High School Play" Award. Goes to Two Girls and a Guy, the stunted brainchild of James Toback. Toback is to David Mamet as Don Bluth is to Disney. Do I have to say any more than that?
The Most Depressing News Award. Forget that the Superman movie reeks. Forget that there's a Godzilla sequel in the works. Forget even that there's a Green Acres movie in the works. Here's the worst news ever: "Anthony Hopkins to retire from acting." Man, I'm still upset about that. It's not even that we've seen the last of Hannibal Lecter. It's after a plethora of fine performances elsewhere, like The Edge, kicking butt in Mask of Zorro, not to mention the shattering butler of Remains of the Day, which I'm still in therapy after watching. I wish he would reconsider, but if not then we've truly, truly lost something, people.
The "Looked Good on Paper" Award. Goes to The Avengers. You just know that Fiennes and Connery were too smart to make the movie that got played in theaters. I mean, when was the last time Connery was BAD in a film? Huh? When? So depressing.
The Best Sex Scene Award. Goes to Tony Shaloub's subtitled phone sex scene in The Impostors. "Touch me good! Touch me hard!" Sounds like standard Skinemax fare, eh? Don't be fooled: it's ridiculously funny.
The Most Unnecessary Singing Award. Goes to DreamWorks' Prince of Egypt. Apart from the opening number, every song was eminently deplorable and forgettable. Even Martin Short and Steve Martin's song which had the potential to be a showstopper was nothing more than a boring catalog of Egyptian deities. Don't force films to be musicals. Please. Everyone Says I Love You was a better musical than this and that had Woody Allen singing, for Christ's sake.
The Noah Taylor Award. This award, given to an actor who gives an extraordinary performance only to get completely ignored at the Oscars, is named for the 1996 recipient for Shine. Last year's recipient was Djimon Hounsou for Amistad. This year it goes to Elden Henson for The Mighty. A very large kid who didn't get near the recognition he deserved for turning a slow giant into a great character.
The Keanu Reeves Award. This award, given to an actor or actress who finds him/herself in a genre that they have no business being in and with no clue as to how to conduct themselves. Keanu, the first recipient of this award, won in both 1992 for Dracula and 1993 for Much Ado About Nothing. Last year's winner was Winona Ryder for Alien Resurrection. This year, the winner, hands down, was Matthew Broderick for Godzilla.
The Maria Pitillo Award. This award is new this year, given to an actor or actress whose performance is so useless and annoying that you would gladly feed them to Godzilla yourself. As always, the award is named for its first recipient.
The Cleanest Poor People Award. Goes to Les Misérables. For the downtrodden and distressed in 19th Century France, didn't it seem like they should have some, I don't know, dirt on their faces? A little....grime, perhaps? It looked like Les J. Crew Models instead. Sigh.
And finally,
The Most Disappointing Film of the Year Award. Like this is a surprise. Deep Impact. For not knowing what the word "subtle" is to the point where only Patch Adams could top it. For the space shuttle with easy breakaway antenna. And for making Elijah Wood play a character that I could give a rat's patoostkie about. And I've ranted about that enough elsewhere.
So there you have it, folks. The suspense is done with, the confetti is spent and the year is over. The awards are now handed out and I'm going back over to that clean spot on the ceiling to lie down. So talk amongst yourselves and have some oyster crackers.
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![]() ![]() Widgett is a figment of humanity's collective imagination given flesh, operating from a secret underwater fortress in an undisclosed location off the coast of Iowa. He is the founder of the Sleep Deprivation Institute and an active member of the Secret Society of Guerilla Ontologists. When he's not championing independent films or complaining, he spends his dwindling free time writing short fiction, poetry, novels, essays, screenplays and children's books under a pseudonym. He also does weddings and bar mitzvahs. His rates are quite reasonable, as he can normally be found wandering the halls of Corona HQ with a sign around his neck that says, "Will Write For Food." Previous issues of Widgett's column are also available. |