Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner’s Guide to Making Showgirls the Best Midnight Movie Ever
January 13, 2010

Sure, we’ve been over this again and again and again, but even broken records are worth repeating every once and a while:

Honestly, it’s perfect in every way, and the only problem I’ve ever had in regarding Showgirls as the crown jewel of camp cinematic masterpieces is that it’s never achieved a Rocky-Horror-Picture-Show level of midnight movie cult status.  Rocky Horror Picture Show, with its sing-a-longs and toilet-paper-throwing and audience shout-outs, embraces full-on audience participation; on the other hand, despite being 131 minutes of bare breasts and bitchery, the Showgirls audience has always struck me as relatively demure.  

Yes, seeing Showgirls on the big screen is comparable to a religious experience, so a certain amount of reverential silence is to be expected.  That, and I WILL shove a bitch down a flight of stairs if they start talking over any of that sublime Joe Eszterhas dialogue:

But Showgirls is also the sort of cinemagic that deserves more than just the knowing laughter of camp appreciation.  No no, seeing Showgirls on the big screen should be like watching Stardust Hotel’s Goddess while tripping balls on crazy pills.  So, in honor of the IFC Center screening Showgirls as this weekend’s midnight movie, here are a few suggestions on how to make your next midnight movie screening of Showgirls something extraordinary:

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Oh Noes! I’ve Got a Bad Case of the Pre-Half-Blood Prince Jitters!
July 14, 2009

(It’s okay; it’s not lethal.  The one symptom to look out for, however, is prolific blog writing and subsequent abuse of your best friend’s offer to guest write for his blog.  That can be deadly!)

Hello fellow Hornerites! Welcome to my first guest column for “NPBiaH.”  I’m Parker, and I could tell you a bit about myself, but I’d rather just jump right into the proverbial fire.

In the summer of 2005, when George Lucas was wrapping up his Star Wars hot mess and four teen girls were sharing a pair of pants on the big screen, the biggest blockbuster was not in theatres across the country but rather in bookshops across the world.  No, this is not hyperbole.  This was, at the time, the largest release of a book, ever, brought to the world courtesy of one J.K. Rowling.  The penultimate book in her Harry Potter series benefited from a six-month pre-release hype, with bookstores promising to remain open until after midnight so that they could meet fans’ demand of devouring the book before anyone could possibly spoil it.  The enigmatic title (Who, or what, is the Half-Blood Prince?  What will this mean for Harry?) met speculation, along with the perennial unanswered questions that run throughout the book (Will Hermione finally snog Ron?  Will there be more Quidditch?  When will the final battle occur?  Will there be another large death in this book?  From, you know, an actual MAIN character this time?  Will Hedwig remain my favorite character, despite my hatred of birds?  Will Oliver Wood finally pop off the page and profess his love for me?).  From this point on in my review, put on your SPOILER glasses (AKA, don’t read anything after the jump if you have not read Half Blood Prince!)

HarryPotterHalfBloodPrinceBook

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