Actually, a mash-up between Rocky and Jaws would make a pretty sweet movie, wouldn't it? In fact, it's such a sweet idea for a movie that I’m copyrighting it right now. That means if it ever gets made at some point and you don't see my name attached as the executive producer or the star or whatever, you’ll know some motherfucker out there owes me a million dollars. I’m sorry, what’s that? You're saying I don’t own the rights to either the Rocky or the Jaws franchises so my claiming a copyright on it is both ridiculous and invalid? Well, smart guy, in my version Rocky Balboa is an actual rock and Jaws is just the jaw bone of a
Ha ha ha! Who’s ridiculous and invalid now, ya jerks?
So let's talk about the movie for a bit, shall we?
This was a decent film. Certainly it's not Francis Ford Coppola’s best (a lot of you will probably say The Godfather is his best work, but I’m going with Apocalypse Now) and it certainly isn’t Matt Dillon’s best (a lot of you will probably say Dillon reached the absolute pinnacle of art when he made You, Me and Dupree, but I’d say that honor goes to the threeway sex scene from Wild Things. In fact, that threeway might be the greatest thing ever committed to film in the history of mankind - and I'm including all the movies they made back in the Jesus days in that too (wait, did they even have movies back in the Jesus days or do they just make movies about the Jesus days? (They had plays in Jesus times though, right? They never talk about Jesus taking in a good play in the Bible (I wonder what type of movies or plays Jesus would watch? (#WWJW? (Let's get that shit trending on Twitter!))))) (Man, that was a lot of parentheses I just used.) (Parentheses is a weird word to spell.) (Pare-en-thas-sees.) (I always forget if the period goes inside or outside the parentheses. I guess I'll do it on both sides from now on, just to be safe.).
This was a decent film. Certainly it's not Francis Ford Coppola’s best (a lot of you will probably say The Godfather is his best work, but I’m going with Apocalypse Now) and it certainly isn’t Matt Dillon’s best (a lot of you will probably say Dillon reached the absolute pinnacle of art when he made You, Me and Dupree, but I’d say that honor goes to the threeway sex scene from Wild Things. In fact, that threeway might be the greatest thing ever committed to film in the history of mankind - and I'm including all the movies they made back in the Jesus days in that too (wait, did they even have movies back in the Jesus days or do they just make movies about the Jesus days? (They had plays in Jesus times though, right? They never talk about Jesus taking in a good play in the Bible (I wonder what type of movies or plays Jesus would watch? (#WWJW? (Let's get that shit trending on Twitter!))))) (Man, that was a lot of parentheses I just used.) (Parentheses is a weird word to spell.) (Pare-en-thas-sees.) (I always forget if the period goes inside or outside the parentheses. I guess I'll do it on both sides from now on, just to be safe.).
Here are three not-very-good reasons why you should watch Rumble Fish:
1.
The main character is named Rusty James (Matt Dillon) and for some strange
reason, he is only ever referred to as that. The whole time I was wondering if his first name was Rusty and his last name was James, or if Rusty was more of a qualifier, like his name
is James and he's covered in rust. And it's weird that his friends or family don't
call him anything except Rusty James. You think at some point they’d feel
familiar enough to abbreviate it to something a little shorter like
Russ or RJ or James or Jim or Jimbo or Rusty Jimbo or R. James or Ray Jay or Jamie or Russet or Brussels Sprouts or Jim Jack or Rust Jack or Justy Ram or Rusty Jam.
2. Tom Waits has a cameo as the dude who works behind the counter at the diner and he says things like this:
3. About 35 minutes into the film is Nicolas Cage’s nude debut during a sloppy, drunken teenage orgy in a broken-in house. No joke. That happens. Though let's be honest, it really would've been better if it included Neve Campbell and Denise Richards. He shoulda talked to Matt Dillon about that.
And here is one very good reason NOT to watch this movie:
1. Aside from that one ass shot, Mr. Cage is really only a few scenes in
the beginning and end of this film. That's not nearly enough! Especially when discussed through the filter of this blog. We should boycott this movie until they film some new scenes with Nic Cage and recut the whole thing. Our rallying cry could be this: "What do we want?" "MORE NIC CAGE!" "When do we want it?" "30 YEARS AGO!"
3 Cageheads out of 5.
The screenplay for Rumble Fish was written by Coppola and S.E. Hinton, who also wrote the book on which the movie was based. You may know S.E. Hinton from your 9th grade English class as the author of The Outsiders.
I remember back in high school my friend Shawn and I both
tried out out to be in the The Outsiders. We had to take turns doing a monologue from the script in front of the
theater teacher. Then I think we had to sing a song. Or maybe I’m remembering
it wrong. I mean, if it’s a musical about street gangs in the 50’s, I’m
probably thinking of West Side Story.
Right? Or is there two classic gang-related musicals? I guess that would be a weirdly specific genre of theater, wouldn't it? Musical dramas
about 50’s gangs based off of books (I’m pretty sure West Side Story was based off of the Twilight series. You guys might need to fact check me on that.).
Anyway, Shawn and I tried out for this play and he ended up landing the lead as Ponyboy and I ended up not even getting offered a role. Not even as an extra. The theater teacher was all like “You can be stage crew. We need good people on stage crew.” And I was all like “You can stage these nuts in your mouth, teach. I’m gonna go smoke cigarettes behind the gym.” And then I did.
That was over 15 years ago and still there are some nights when I can't fall asleep and I find myself wondering what if... What would've happened if I had gotten cast in that play. How might things've turned out? I didn't need to be the lead. I know from watching Nicolas Cage's career thus far that amazing talent sometimes can begin in the most unassuming of places. I would've been happy as Sodapop or Dallas or Johnny. Any side character, really. Just put me in the play, goddamn it! Maybe getting a taste of that kind of validation up there on the stage - the applause, the lights, the glamor of it all - maybe it would’ve fostered and flamed something I hadn't known was in me. Maybe I would’ve turned to acting as my desired profession instead of this stupid writing bullshit I’m stuck doing instead. I would’ve moved to New York, of course, where I'd end up getting cast in an off-off-off Broadway production of some kind, more than likely an avant-garde art play where I’d be forced to kiss a guy or something like that in front of everyone in the sparsely filled theater. Eventually though, a casting director or a talent agent or some other big shot would happen upon my performance and me and him’ll get to talking after one of the shows. He'll say I've got "spunk" and that I'm "going places" and then, after doing some more gay stuff, this time with him (in a more private setting), he’ll make a few calls and get me cast in a series of commercials for men’s aftershave. After a year or two of part-time commercial work, I'll discover he's been skimming a few extra bucks off the top of my paychecks for himself this whole time. I'll feel betrayed. Hurt. But I'll persevere. Then, one day, I’d spot an ad in the Village Voice about a small, independent film that's looking to shoot sometime over the summer. I’d try out the following week. Week after that, I'd get a call back. Soon enough, I'd land the lead. The film itself will have a small theatrical run, but it will be lavished by critics who will call it things like "a powerhouse" and "bold". Then, come awards season, the film AND my performance in it are abuzz on the lips of the media and the Academy alike. Although the movie would ultimately lose the Oscar to something Nicolas Cage starred in (hey, let's give credit where credit is due) I’ll now be touted as Hollywood’s new “it” boy. Soon the roles come pouring in and I'll switch from small, indie fare to making more mainstream films. I get rich. I get famous. And eventually I get rich and famous enough and hold enough sway in the industry to produce my own films to star in. And my first major motion picture will be a prequel to Wild Things that I'll call Feral Stuff and then, THEN, I’ll FINALLY get to have a threeway sex scene with Neve Campbell and Denise Richards just like Rusty James got to. “This is awesome!” Jesus will say (#WWJW) as the steamy sex scene unfurls on the celluloid in front of him in his own personal movie theater in his kick-ass Heaven mansion. “It really is,” God will nod in agreement. And then, years later when I die and finally ascend into Heaven myself, absolutely nothing will change for me because I'll already be living in Heaven here on Earth. For me, there will be no death. There we only be happiness. Pure, unadulterated happiness from now until forever. And ever. And ever...
Anyway, Shawn and I tried out for this play and he ended up landing the lead as Ponyboy and I ended up not even getting offered a role. Not even as an extra. The theater teacher was all like “You can be stage crew. We need good people on stage crew.” And I was all like “You can stage these nuts in your mouth, teach. I’m gonna go smoke cigarettes behind the gym.” And then I did.
That was over 15 years ago and still there are some nights when I can't fall asleep and I find myself wondering what if... What would've happened if I had gotten cast in that play. How might things've turned out? I didn't need to be the lead. I know from watching Nicolas Cage's career thus far that amazing talent sometimes can begin in the most unassuming of places. I would've been happy as Sodapop or Dallas or Johnny. Any side character, really. Just put me in the play, goddamn it! Maybe getting a taste of that kind of validation up there on the stage - the applause, the lights, the glamor of it all - maybe it would’ve fostered and flamed something I hadn't known was in me. Maybe I would’ve turned to acting as my desired profession instead of this stupid writing bullshit I’m stuck doing instead. I would’ve moved to New York, of course, where I'd end up getting cast in an off-off-off Broadway production of some kind, more than likely an avant-garde art play where I’d be forced to kiss a guy or something like that in front of everyone in the sparsely filled theater. Eventually though, a casting director or a talent agent or some other big shot would happen upon my performance and me and him’ll get to talking after one of the shows. He'll say I've got "spunk" and that I'm "going places" and then, after doing some more gay stuff, this time with him (in a more private setting), he’ll make a few calls and get me cast in a series of commercials for men’s aftershave. After a year or two of part-time commercial work, I'll discover he's been skimming a few extra bucks off the top of my paychecks for himself this whole time. I'll feel betrayed. Hurt. But I'll persevere. Then, one day, I’d spot an ad in the Village Voice about a small, independent film that's looking to shoot sometime over the summer. I’d try out the following week. Week after that, I'd get a call back. Soon enough, I'd land the lead. The film itself will have a small theatrical run, but it will be lavished by critics who will call it things like "a powerhouse" and "bold". Then, come awards season, the film AND my performance in it are abuzz on the lips of the media and the Academy alike. Although the movie would ultimately lose the Oscar to something Nicolas Cage starred in (hey, let's give credit where credit is due) I’ll now be touted as Hollywood’s new “it” boy. Soon the roles come pouring in and I'll switch from small, indie fare to making more mainstream films. I get rich. I get famous. And eventually I get rich and famous enough and hold enough sway in the industry to produce my own films to star in. And my first major motion picture will be a prequel to Wild Things that I'll call Feral Stuff and then, THEN, I’ll FINALLY get to have a threeway sex scene with Neve Campbell and Denise Richards just like Rusty James got to. “This is awesome!” Jesus will say (#WWJW) as the steamy sex scene unfurls on the celluloid in front of him in his own personal movie theater in his kick-ass Heaven mansion. “It really is,” God will nod in agreement. And then, years later when I die and finally ascend into Heaven myself, absolutely nothing will change for me because I'll already be living in Heaven here on Earth. For me, there will be no death. There we only be happiness. Pure, unadulterated happiness from now until forever. And ever. And ever...
Don't box me in, Rumble Fish. All rivers lead to the ocean. I live my life in full color. And I've got to swim.
Lol it's a good article on one of my favorite movies and it was very entertaining to read. So funny! xD
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