Internet commenters are very bad. But every once in a while, Uproxx commenters are very good. Once a week, we recognize the latter.
As you may have noticed, Comments of the Week has been on hiatus for a very long time. But I figured that with all the trolls, mouth breathers, insufferable pedants in the world, it’s worth rewarding those of you whose comments on our articles don’t make me want to crush my skull with my own palm. I can’t promise anything more than recognition right now, but maybe I’ll bring back prizes at some point. I’ll keep you updated.
Going forward, same rules as before: if you see a comment that strikes your fancy some time in the next week, nominate it by pasting in the comments section of this post.
From this week’s epic taco battle, of which I will declare myself the winner regardless of the actual results, on account of I didn’t try to combine al pastor, barbacoa, mole, and a quesadilla into one recipe like Steve. I SAID GOOD DAY, SIR.
Lothar of the Hill People: Hey Vince, I get my tortillas at The Tortilla Factory, too! Or maybe it’s at Tortillas-R-Us. Or at Everything Corny. Actually, any one of those places down in the Tortilla District.
Don’t interpret this as me encouraging everyone to roast me, but that was good roasting.
From my Arrival review/essay:
OhMyBalls: Thank you for the break down on how different cultures perceive time. It’ll be helpful in explaining my work attendance.
From my review of this week’s other Amy Adams movie, Nocturnal Animals (which is garbage, GARBAGE I SAY!):
Charlie Br0nze: I’m having a real hard time distinguishing between Amy Adams and Rachel McAdams. Which one lives in the mountains and trains bears again? As if the whole Tinie Tempah and Tinchy Strider situation wasn’t bad enough, now there’s this!
I don’t know what any of that means and Amy Adams looks nothing like Rachel McAdams (though I would give both of them kisses), but damned if it didn’t make me laugh. Is this because Bronze is British? I can never understand those people. It’s always “shoyna ya boots” this and “bread pie” that. David Beckham fish n chips.
From my Doctor Strange write-up (tl;dr version, it was very silly and I liked that).
Schnitzel bob: Not to mention that Captain America: Civil War expected us to buy that Tony Stark, a man who once got drunk, put on his explosive robosuit, then destroyed his own house while there was a party going on, suddenly gives a sh*t about collateral damage because one stern black lady confronted him.
Well put, and I agree.
Nic Cages T-Rex Skull: Is there a scene where an elephant holds a head of cabbage with its trunk that Teller then uses as a speed bag?
Not enough references to the angry Italian cabbage vendor from Water for Elephants these days, I always say.
displayeduser1: “But a’ Vinny, look at a’ the cabbages. You a’ need these cabbages to win a’ the boxing match.”
SallyGally: Remember when Aaron Eckhart played Sexy Frankenstein? I feel like that’s something we should all be reminded of when his name gets mentioned.
My God, you’re right. I totally forgot about Aaron Eckhart playing a sexy Frankenstein.
From my review of Elle, Paul Verhoeven’s almost over compensatingly French French-language debut:
Magic Mike: Conversely, you can check out the Juliette Binoche ‘Elle’ to see a big-titted hooker get peed on before going on a philosophical introspective. God I love Europe.
There’s at least one word missing from that comment, but it’s still informative.
From This Week In Posters:
Holas: Am I the only one that thought, “Damn, I guess the makers of ‘I Am Not Your Negro’ really don’t want white people to see this movie.” You can’t put “negro” in the title of your movie and expect white people to ask for tickets out loud in a crowded space.
“Hi, yeah, we’ll have two tickets for the 8:45 showing of I Am Not… uh… sh*t… fine… Two for Resident Evil.”
That is a good point.
Finally, it wouldn’t be a Comments of the Week without some Schnitzel Bob Frotcast fan-fiction. Schnitzel Bob couldn’t help noticing that this week’s Frotcast seemed more… professional?
Schnitzel bob: Matt ambled through San Francisco, enjoying his freedom on a sunny afternoon. His path had taken him here and there, including (finally) in a straight line through Golden Gate Park. Now he was walking through the campus of UCSF, peering into classrooms and trying to divine the subjects being discussed by smartly dressed professionals.
It was in conducting this exercise that he was surprised to see a familiar face in one of the rooms. Vince Mancini, not wearing torn, wide-thighed jeans and a plaid shirt, but a dress shirt, slacks and a blazer. Not with buffalo sauce on his fingers but clean, and freshly shaven. Not absent-mindedly picking his crotch but intently listening to the person at the table next to him. He was almost unrecognizable.
Matt couldn’t resist. He opened the door just a crack and listened. A woman finished her sentence and Vince began.
“Yeah, that’s a really good point. And I don’t want to seem dismissive, but I think reading shades of Eisenstein in Dolan’s work is premature. He’s got the raw talent, yes, but his oeuvre is still in evolution, if I can put it that way. I look forward to what he can do with his later work, but as it stands, I still think he’s not fully formed as a filmmaker.”
Matt recoiled as if the crack of the open door had belched a blast of steam. That was Vince’s voice, but… who was that guy? Matt felt deeply unsettled, and his attempt to return to his earlier meandering were interrupted by flashbacks of what he’d seen.
“I should just go back to the flophouse and lie down” he thought. “Try and forget this whole thing ever happened.”
UCSF is a medical school, but I guess I can’t expect a Canadian to know that.
Well done, everyone. Same time, same place next week.