Leave The Gun, Take The Bukkake (Pt. 1)

10.04.06 11 years ago 14 Comments

The hoary, gimmicky pop culture comparison post is a familiar one to the blogging community – y’know, wherein a writer likens sports teams to any number of components within a category of cultural arcana, be they Smurfs, brands of beer and members of the federal judiciary, then draws tenuous similarities.

Well, the writers at KSK are above such things (we’re too busy genuflecting at the altar of Bill Simmons, that sagacious Sports Guy, who was first to conceive of combining the worlds of “sports” and “not sports”). That is, the six superior KSK writers to myself are, but it’s the middle of the week, there’s space to fill and the prime movie season approaches, soooo – what the hey! – here’s a list of which film director would be best fit to direct a movie about each NFL team:

NFC East:

Dallas — Tony Scott

The poor man’s Michael Mann (“The Poor Mann?”) is usually good for an explosion-laden few hours of emptyheaded ultraviolence. Once in a while, this turns out well – Top Gun, The Last Boy Scout, Man on Fire – and the rest of the time it’s just loud, gormless and overdone. And a lot of the dumb people you know, and there are a lot of them, will go on and on about how much they love the ‘splosions and that Days of Thunder was really, really good.

New York Giants — Kevin Smith

They’re both from Jersey and love warmed-over gay jokes. Tom Coughlin gets outcoached by Mike Holmgren and Smith’s cinematic eye is dwarfed even by the Farrelly Brothers. Both have seen significant contributors fall prey to substance abuse: Jason Mewes, heroin; LT, everything. Snootch to the booch, losers.

Philadelphia — Martin Scorsese

Ah, this one is bound to raise some hackles. “But he’s from New York!” you carp. “He’s too good for the Iggles!” Both are valid points. However, it all boils down to the fact that Scorsese, like Thrilly, can’t win the big one even though it seems like both should have by now. The Departed looks promising and a lot of sportswriters are improbably picking the Eagles to go to the Super Bowl. And the Super Bowl goes to…Dances With Wolves.

Washington — Michael Bay

Give them enough money and they’ll give you a sad excuse to waste yours. Pearl Harbor and the Deion Sanders signing are similarly epic, costly blunders. Roland Emmerich or James Cameron could probably also fit here, but Cameron is too cool now that he’s been on Entourage. I go with Bay because it has already come to pass – UM reported that crew from The Transformers Movie was on hand Sunday at FedEx for the Jags-Indigenous Peoples game to get film of Brunell morphing into a decent quarterback for a week.

NFC North:

Chicago — Ridley Scott

Right now, they’re the balls. And they have more versatility than people give them credit for. Maybe it’s from wearing Meryl Streep’s fragrance. Chicago’s defense can hit you with a Gladiator, a Black Hawk Down, an Alien, a Blade Runner and then Rex Grossman can go all G.I. Jane or Thelma and Louise. Seems like they got everything covered. A caveat, though: there’s a Kingdom of Heaven in there also, so don’t think you’re all invincible and shit. And that’s Sir Ridley Scott to you, cheesedick.

Detroit — Christopher Guest

Who doesn’t want to see Eugene Levy playing Matt Millen? Who doesn’t think he’s already more qualified to run the Lions? The problem with this is that everyone knows Fred Willard gets the annoying announcer role. Is there a black guy in his ensemble that can follow the droll non-football exploits of the retired Barry Sanders? I see him traveling around the country looking to buy antique racist lawn jockeys.

Green Bay — Ron Howard

I feel like Peter King has already shopped this project to a studio with Howard attached. Of course, in King’s version, not only does he gloss over decades of Packer history, the film erases all world history previous to Brett Favre’s first start with the Packers in 1992, and presages endtimes with his impending retirement. Expect lots of Starbucks product placements and sappy musical overlays to long close-ups.

Minnesota — Sofia Coppola

You were expecting Jackie Treehorn, weren’t you? You’re funny, that’s what you are. I was ready to be very generous to the Vikings here and let them have Minnesota’s own Brothers Coen, however undeserving the team might be of them. But Drew interjected with Sofia, because, she, like the Vikings’ offense, is quiet and shitty. I suppose so. But Sofia is the director of overhyped pieces of meandering shit like Lost in Translation, and no one gives a double dong about the Vikes. Let’s meet halfway, Drew.

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