Comments of the Week is back, and I’m giving away FilmDrunk shirts (BUY YOURS HERE) to each week’s winner. We don’t have an upvoting function yet, so in the meantime, you’ll have to bookmark this post and paste your favorite comments in the comments section from which I’ll choose each week’s winner. Got it? Good.
That’s right, folks, it’s comments of the week time again. This week gave us a stories about Boston gangsters, Adam Sandler, Native Americans, and Steven Seagal, so there was no shortage of material. And apologies to everyone who showed up to the Adam Sandler post to say “GET A CLUE, MORANS, ITS A SNADLER MOVIE, WHAT DID THEY THINK THWY WERE SINGING UP FOR LOL.” Sorry, no, you did not make comments of the week. I award you zero points and may God have mercy on your soul.
Let’s get to the honorable mentions. From Native Americans walked off Sandler set. (Obviously I didn’t include this one because it was funny):
A Lie Agreed Upon: Maybe Netflix is telling the truth and they are all in on it. Fake controversy to get some PR. There’s no such thing as bad publicity.
Oh look, someone wandered over from InfoWars. “Fake controversy to get some PR” is the new “jet fuel doesn’t burn hot enough to melt steel.” GRRR, ADAM SANDLER WAS AN INSIDE JOB, FALSE FLAG FALSE FLAG!
Elsewhere, I don’t think we’ve quite hit our stride with these yet, but I’m glad Machine Gun Kelly has become the butt of jokes.
El Dubba E: Machine Gun Kelly is a few belts away from being my favorite Final Fantasy character.
Bob Dobalina: Machine Gun Kelly always parks his Toyota Supra across two parking spots.
Schnitzel bob: Machine Gun Kelly says he doesn’t want pizza, but then when it arrives he eats some anyway and doesn’t chip in five bucks.
Bob Dobalina: Machine Gun Kelly always takes his time walking across an intersection. None of that half jog/hurried walk sh*t, mane. That’s for suckas.
From John Singleton is too real for the Tupac biopic:
Alcoholics Gratuitous: Real Talk: We need a space Hip-Hopera about hologram Tupac going back in time to warn his younger self about that fateful night in Las Vegas.
*Tupac’s hologram arrives at Mt. Tam High School.
“I need your overalls, your high tops and your BMX.”
*Bursts through the door of the theater production of A Raisin in the Sun.
“Come with me if you want to thug live.”
I didn’t understand the first part of that, but the last sentence is gold, and I appreciate that he knows which high school Tupac went to.
Chareth Cutestory: Tupac’s hologram is out there making bank. Meanwhile Suge Knight just fainted in the prison yard because he thought he saw a bee.
From left: Farrah Abraham, the author, blow-up Farrah Abraham.
From Farrah Abraham is apprenticing with a plastic surgeon:
Leapin_Lizards: I loves me some Vince but it’s amazing that in a picture with a blow-up doll and a walking Herpes case Vince comes across as the creepy one.
True story, I woke up late and didn’t have time to shower or groom but had to meet an interview on the AVN floor, so I just threw on a beanie and rolled out. I wasn’t prepared to be photographed, but when I saw Farrah standing in the corner next to a shirtless man with a giant paper maché penis, I knew what I had to do, bedhead and untrimmed beard be damned. The sacrifices I make for you people. Sheesh.
From Vin Diesel singing the Paul Walker tribute song again:
Chareth Cutestory: Grief is a spectrum, you f*cks. From quiet meditation to a spring-loaded-stilt-sprints across a GNC parking lot, screaming at God.
Chareth Cutestory: “Caleb? Cody? Do us a solid and dress up as your dead brother again? Yeah, Vin lost all his money when Tobey McGuire bet him he couldn’t outrun a puma.”
It basically goes without saying that Chareth Cutestory is the best of us.
From Steven Seagal’s entourage:
Talking Can of Vegetables: Steven Seagal’s entourage consists of Johnny Dalai Lama, Roof-E and Turtle (an actual galapagos turtle).
The turtle was the clincher. I can actually picture that. I think Steven Seagal and a Galapagos tortoise would get along, they have roughly the same resting face.
From Adam Sandler’s native protest:
Mike Keesey: I don’t know why the producers didn’t just sit down with the disaffected party and draw up an agreement. Then completely disregard that agreement and kill them.
From Clean-Shaven Jon Snow goes to WWI in Testament of Youth:
Verbal Kunt: It’s amazing how different he looks without those few pubes the other night’s watchmen tape to his chin every time he’s asleep.
I can picture that.
From Johnny Depp plays Whitey Bulger in Black Mass:
Nic Cages T-Rex Skull: HEY CHAHLENE! TELL THE FBI I GAWT A WHITE BULGE RIGHT HEAH! *Grabs brass instrument.* SAWRY, I MEANT TO SAY WHITE BUGLE! *Toots “Shipping Up to Boston”*
“THIS FACK IS WEARIN’ A WIYAH!”
[a mess of wires spilling from a Larry Bird jersery]
“FACK YOU, I AM.”
From James Franco and Jonah Hill star in True Story:
Buttockus Finch, Esq.: Starring Jonah Hill as Truman Chipotle. Dude has repossessed some of the weight he lost to Josh Gad.
From Danger Guerrero’s spec script for Furious 8:
Chareth Cutestory: “The only way we’re gonna catch this submarine…is with one of our own.”
[a spoiler emerges from the water]
Anyway, I wanted to get some new blood in the winner’s circle this week, but let’s be honest, Chareth was just dunking over everyone, bouncing his balls on top of our heads.
Here’s your Schnitzel Bob fan-fiction of the week, based on Ex Machina.
Matt left the movie theater in a daze. He’d never seen something which captured the overtly sexual relationship between man and machine before. It was as though they’d reached into his mind, plucked out his experiences, his fears, his desires, and turned them into a film. The feeling of arousal motivated by both lust and shame was something he hadn’t felt in a while.
He wandered aimlessly on leaving the theater, barely noticing the heavy drops of rain that were soaking through his thin jacket. Eventually he walked into a nearby lounge and took a seat at the bar. He ordered soda water with lime and sat in contemplation.
Could it ever work? Could a fully realized AI ever ‘love’ someone? Would it be real? Would he notice, or would he spend the entire time wondering about the sincerity of the sentiment. Fundamentally, Matt wondered if his own hangups would doom a relationship. He was trapped, but trapped within himself as much as by external forces.
Still caught up in his reverie, he didn’t notice when someone sidled up next his stool. It was only when the clumsy moving of the stool knocked it over that Matt looked up.
Charlene. Of all the places in San Francisco, for her to wind up here… had she followed him? Was she at the film?
He awoke the next morning with a pounding headache. How… he had no memory of leaving the bar, which was odd since he didn’t drink. His left arm was stiffly trapped under the pillow next to him, and something was making the crook of his elbow itch. He opened his eyes to see straight blonde hair cascading off the pillow and onto his arm. It was a wig, attached to a four foot tall matte white box with a single, very noticeable orifice on the front. Smeared red lipstick surrounded the orifice.
Matt nearly recoiled his arm in horror, but thought better of it at the last second. Charlene was asleep for now, and he didn’t want to wake her. Instead, he gradually pulled his arm out from under the pillow.
He quickly got dressed and headed for the door before pausing. Turning, he looked quickly around the room and spotted what he was looking for, Charlene’s purse. The mystery of how he’d wound up here with no memory of it might be solved by searching its contents.
He crept over to the corner of the room and stealthily went through the purse. In one side pocket he found what he expected: a small pill packet marked ‘rohypnol’.
That explained it. As he walked home, Matt realized that his find also settled some of his questions from the movie. There could be no doubt, now. AI was just as capable of malice as humans. Unfortunately, Matt didn’t know if this made them more attractive or less.
Until next week.