The Nina Sayers of Quizno’s Ads
March 28, 2011

They’ve used nightmare hamsters of the interwebs:

D*ck-starved oven monsters:

And, most recently, a Bette-Davis-drag-queen-lookalike who is actually just some lady channeling Bette circa Jezebel and wearing clown makeup circa Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?:

All of them have danced the dance, for sure, but who shall be Quizno’s Marketing’s Swan Queen?

Ah, yes:

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Today’s Fabulous Image(s) in Cinema: Julia Ormond in I Know Who Killed Me
July 27, 2010

I don’t know what persuaded Julia Ormond to get on board the Hot Mess Express and play Lindsay Lohan’s mother in the thriller/slasher/torture porn/masterpiece that is I Know Who Killed, but I do know I’m forever happy she did.  Without her commitment to the craft, the line “This is Mr. Jervis” would be a line about a teddy bear like any other; instead, Julia Ormond makes it one of the most dazzling, mind-bogglingly bizarre things I’ve ever seen committed to film.  I mean, what in the world is she doing with her voice?  And what’s going on with her face?  No, seriously:

Pure FACE poetry is what’s going on with her face, y’all.

Sure, it’s all too easy to take a line delivered to the girl you believe is your only daughter–the daughter who’s been abducted by a serial killer, lost portions of her arm and leg through a brutal amputation process that involves dry ice and blue glass surgical utensils (don’t ask), and somehow managed to escape–like a she’s just gone through a serious trauma (so, you know, like a normal person), but it takes a special caliber of actor to play that line like you’re in the midst of an exorcism, and that caliber is BRILLIANT.  Lindsay Lohan’s reaction shot pretty much sums it up:

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Since There’ll Be a Mean Girls Video Game, Here’re Some Other Games That Would Be Totally Fetch
April 13, 2010

When I first found out yesterday that this was happening:

I totally Bill Hader-ed at work:

Sure, my co-worker was not a fan, and I guess it was embarrassing, but not nearly as embarrassing as taking six years to capitalize on the obviously lucrative market for video game adaptations of Mean Girls and things tangentially related to Mean Girls.  Of course, neither compares to the shame of being the one star of Mean Girls whose notoriously public career implosion most likely resulted in him/her being left off the video game box art for fear of their presence damaging sales (HINT: NOT THE WIDE-SET VAGINA GIRL), but that’s neither here nor there.

My point is that if there’s one thing that gays love, it’s dick spending money on things they don’t need; and if there’s another thing that they love, it’s sucking dick while watching Mean Girls.  A Mean Girls video game just makes sense.  Sure, six years isn’t exactly striking while the iron’s hot, but gays don’t mind when things don’t age gracefully (See: Xanadu, which only grows more camp with each passing day.  See also: Madonna).

ANYWAYS, this can only be the beginning of the Video Games Renaissance (for games based on Mean Girls and things tangentially related to Mean Girls), so let’s take a peek at some other other games we can expect in the future:

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Internet Spoilers: 1, Orphan Ad Campaign: A Bajillion
July 8, 2009

Well, if this internet commenter’s supposed spoiler is to be revealed, lil’ oprhan Esther’s secret is out of the bag, and it’s even more batshit insane than I could’ve ever anticipated.  I won’t explicitly discuss the details, but I’ll say this: It’s honestly such an impressively thought-out, completely out-of-nowhere sort of twist that I believe it.  And want to see this movie immediately so I can confirm its validity.  Not since the phrase “non-religious identical twin stigmata” has an ending scaled such heights of so-bad-it’s-brilliant absurdity.   Seriously, y’all, it’s so damn trashtastically awful that it’s pretty much seals the deal: Orphan is destined for of camp/cult/bad horror movie greatness.  

On one hand, if it’s true, I’ll be terribly disappointed to not have such a wonderfully gonzo revelation dropped in my lap in the final moments of the film.  But on the other hand:

orphan secret

No, poster, obviously the interwebs cannot keep a secret.  In the age of the internet, nobody can keep their trap shut to save their damn life, and it’s a rather brilliant move on the part of Orphan‘s marketing campaign to sell a film all around a climactic narrative reveal in a time where spoilers are all but anticipated.  When you think about it, it’s a clever spin on an old advertising tradition. (more…)

Obsessed Looks to Make Our Wildest Trash-Movie Dreams Come True
March 26, 2009

If you haven’t seen the trailer yet, you really must.  It’s the sort of epic, über-trashtastic nonsense that Hollywood should make more of a commitment to if they insist on giving us terrible movies.  We do not need more Paul Blart: Mall Cops or Meet Daves; we need more of this utter garbage.  I’m not even kidding.  Just look at this train wreck:

RRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrKRASH!  In case you were wondering, that’s the sound of a train wreck.  Duh.

I can’t seem to decide what part of the trailer I like most, so I’ve decided that I simply adore all of it.  There are some highlights that must be pointed out, elements that completely convince me that you’ll have a six-pack by the end of this movie because you’ve been laughing so hard and so frequently.  For example:

  • The fact that this movie is essentially Fatal Attraction but without any insane sex scenes because this movie is only PG-13.  I didn’t put on pervy-pants today (I’m wearing my corduroy boot-cut pants, actually), but these movies can’t work if they aren’t erotic, and the lack of sex is likely going to make this movie as erotic as watching the ink on an abstinence pamphlet dry; fortunately, a lack of eroticism in a sex thriller is a guarantee for laughs.  We call this the Cinematic Law of Body of Evidence.  
  • Ali Larter’s seduction moves in this movie are pure genius.  It’s a potent mixture of Dakota Moss and Nomi Malone.  Between her bathroom attack and the writhing about in the car, I’m pretty certain she’s the only person in this mess that’s well aware of what kind of movie she’s in.  Her performance alone looks to be worth the price of a ticket.  
  • Jerry O’Connell doing the finger gun gesture.  The finger gesture is never appropriate.
  • Hell, the fact that Jerry O’Connell is in this at all is kinda blowing my mind.  I really liked him in Scream 2 and Scanners, so I’m glad to see he’s still working; still, I thought he’d been relegated to terrible Lifetime movies.  I guess his theatrical film career is getting is getting another go with Beyonce vehicles that probably should’ve remained Lifetime movies.  
  • Oh, how can I forget?  Ali Larter sinisterly holding the baby is brazilliant.  I’m glad they’ve thrown a dash of The Hand That Rocks the Cradle into the narrative mix; it really is like a dash of smoked paprika in this bad movie stew.  She doesn’t just want the guy’s body, y’all.  SHE WANTS BEYONCE’S LIFE!  Scary.
  • Mostly, though, there’s the catfight.  The epic catfight that destroys Beyonce’s beautiful house.  It’s like Russ Meyer on crack rock.

So, yeah, Obsessed.  It comes out April 24th, and Internet Movie Database claims the movie’s working title was Oh No She Didn’t.  How do you say no to that?

Oh, right.  You don’t.

Lindsay Lohan’s the Face of Something You Do Not Want to Buy
March 20, 2009

Lindsay Lohan used to be a contender.  I mean, how can you deny the talent?  Anybody who remembers I Know Who Killed Me knows she’s the best.  At delivering the worst performances.  Seriously, though, I loved her in Mean Girls, so it saddens me to say that she’s been reduced to spokesperson for, well, something called Fornarina:

Fornarina is, according to this ad, a self-described “celebrity fashion style.”  I say self-described because that garbage looks likes something you’d find in the hooker section of a TJ Maxx.  Yikes.

This entire ad is quite simply a hot pink train wreck of disastrous proportions.  I don’t particularly understand what celebrity style would involve wearing what quite frankly appears to be–and my apologies in advance to those with delicate sensibilities–anal beads around your neck, but I’m guessing it’s pretty cheap and trashy if it employs Ms. Lohan as its spokesperson.  Seeing as she’s clearly not eating, I bet the people at Fornarina are paying her in Red Bull and cigarettes.  Breakfast of champions, that.

I’ll give her this, though: Lindsay Lohan’s now my Halloween costume idea NUMERO UNO.  All you have to do is find the sleaziest street walker outfit you can find at a Salvation Army, top it with a truly shiteous blond wig, and then you wander around your party pointing and saying inane one syllable words.  Just like Gwyneth’s clams, it couldn’t be simpler.

Cheers to Dlisted for posting this mess.

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