Moonstruck (1987)

moon-struck [moon-struhk]
adj.
1. mentally deranged, supposedly by the influence of the moon; crazed
2. dreamily romantic or bemused

So that’s the dictionary definition of Moonstruck, and certainly it is an affliction suffered by most of the characters in this movie. F’real. Everybody is fuckin’ everybody in this film. It’s like a big, happy, romantic adulterous orgy. Nicolas Cage is banging Cher who is engaged to Danny Aiello, Cher’s mom considers getting some from this weinery dude with a penchant for getting drinks dumped on him in restaurants who also happens to be Frasier's dad, and her dad, Mr. Mushnik, is slipping the pickle to some older babe who isn't Cher. I bet even the dude playing the grandpa was choking the chicken in the scenes between the scenes. Point is, there was a lot of sex in this movie. No nudity though. I thought we should’ve been treated to a crack shot or two from Cage. I mean, he wasn’t afraid to show butt in Rumble Fish, he certainly shouldn’t have been afraid to show it in this Academy Award winning movie.

That’s right. Moonstruck won several Academy Awards in the year it came out, and it’s pretty easy to see why. This shit was a good movie. It was funny with a tint of darkness and heartwarming without being cheap. Plus Cher is a good fuggin’ actress. I suppose people from my generation really consider Cher to be more of...I don’t know...an inspiration for gay dudes to prance around in assless chaps.

Fabulous!

But the homosexual community has got the right idea. This chick rocks. She’s a good actress and she was not bad looking and she deserves all the exposed butt-cheeked dance routines in the world as tribute for all that she has brought mankind. Man, if I was just a little bit gayer, I’d be rocking a pair of biker shorts and singing to some horny sailor boys right now.

Alas, though, this is Nicolas Uncaged, and we’re here to talk about the man himself, Nicolas Cage and not what I’d do as a female impersonator.

Here’s a tidbit that I pulled right off of IMDB’s trivia page: 

Nicolas Cage's screen test didn't impress the studio, and they wanted to get someone else to play Ronny. But Cher insisted that Cage was the one to play that role, and threatened to quit unless he was hired. After a few days, the studio relented.

So that's ANOTHER reason why Cher rules. She's a total Cage fan too! Hey Cher, if you're reading this right now and you want to do a guest post some time, I'd be totally cool with that.

Here’s a song that encapsulates what it’s like to be in love, Italian-style:

 

Skip to 1:45 for a bonus treat of Cage delivering a line in only the way Nicolas Cage can.

You gotta "hand" it to him, that was some fancy acting. 

So, here’s a question this film indirectly asks:

Can we really choose who we love?

In the film, Cher is a 37-year-old widow with a chip on her shoulder who believes in curses. She’s agrees to marry Danny Aiello because he’s a decent guy, has some cash, and he’s apparently into 37-year-old widows with chips on their shoulders. Circumstances send Aiello to Sicily to tend to his dying mother. In the intrim, he asks Cher to convince his estranged brother (Nic Cage) to attend the wedding. Cher tracks Cage down and they pretty much have sex immediately because of true love and all that shit.

So here's what I'm wondering: Should Cher feel bad about cheating on her hubs-to-be? I mean, arguably that’s some scum-bag maneuvering, sliding up on Cage’s pole like that, but it all worked out for the best in the end, right? The real question I suppose is what exactly is true love and is that what we should be looking for?

Here’s some more dictionary definitions for your face:

true-love [troo-luhv]
noun
a sweetheart; a truly loving or loved person

Uh....gee...that was helpful....

My point here is  that everyone always says you should follow your heart, but is following your heart an adequate reason to disregard someone else’s feelings? Think of Cher and Cage in this movie. Like, even if her fiancee wasn’t that into her, it’s still gotta feel shitty to get cheated on. And it is still ethically wrong. And a total dick thing to do. And if a major part of being intimate with someone is being physically intimate with that person how do you know it’s ‘true love’ pushing you there or just the fact you wanna get your parts wet with someone else who looks good? Because, Jeez, if that were the case, I experience true love, like, 15 times a day.

The fact that it doesn’t offer up a maudlin answer to this "true love" question is what made this movie so good. Maybe there really isn’t a differnece between true love and true sex. Maybe we’re all in some kind of flux, at the whims of our waxing and waning emotional states, trapped between our desire to love and be loved and our desire to fuck and get fucked alike. It'd almost be poetic, if it weren’t so damn sad.

Hmmm. I don’t know if there were enough jokes in this post. Goddamnit. I should’ve talked more about gay dudes and Cher’s butt.

4 Cageheads out of 5.

Raising Arizona (1987)

We're back!

Welcome to Nicolas Uncaged, the only blog on the internet that doesn’t have those recently-leaked pictures of Justin Bieber’s penis.

You clicked on that Bieber penis link, didn’t you? You dirty bird…

This week we are going to be discussing a classic slice of American indie cinema, the one and only, Raising Arizona.

Before we get into the meat of this post (or rather, let the meat of this post into us) I first want to take a paragraph or two to talk about how awesome I think this movie is, just in general. What? I’m not allowed to dispense with the sarcasm for a moment and actually talk about a movie because I enjoyed it? It doesn’t have to be ALL jokes ALL the time, does it?

Oh, it does?

Goddamn it.

Okay, did you watch that clip? Dude, this movie is so much freaking fun! I must’ve seen it at least a dozen times before watching it for Nicolas Uncaged. The slickness of the direction, the pace of the story, the fullness of the characters, the dryness of the humor, the subtly of the performances (Nicolas Cage’s in particular was most certainly a career-defining role and I find it almost unimaginable to picture a different actor in his place and have it be remotely the same movie) and the pitch perfectness of the music – ALL OF IT – make for a piece of art that towers like a monolith above most other films. Especially The Boy in Blue. Goddamn, that movie sucked.

So in case you somehow missed this film 1.) fuck you, you shouldn't be allowed to watch movies, and 2.) here’s a quick recap: Nic Cage plays H.I. McDunnough, a serial felon who spends a lot of his time getting locked up in jail because he's apparently terrible at his job of robbing convenience stores. While being processed into prison, he meets a cop lady named Edwina ‘Ed’ McDunnough played by Holly Hunter. So they fall in love and get married and they're all ready to start a family, except that Ed is barren and can’t have children. Meanwhile, local unpainted wooden furniture magnate Nathan Arizona has quintuplets. H.I. and Ed decide the Arizona's aren't going to miss one kid when they have four more to take care of, so they break into the house and steal Nathan Jr. to raise as their own. Nathan Arizona Sr. puts out a bounty for whoever rescues his child and he hires this crusty-ass bounty hunter named Leonard Smalls aka The Lone Biker of the Apocalypse. Things get even more hectic when H.I.'s buddies break out of jail and decide they want to take the Arizona boy to return him to Nathan for the reward too. Everybody is trying to get their hands on this kid. Shenanigans ensue. 

Whew! The plot sounds more convoluted than it is when typing it out like this. Here’s some music as a palate cleanser:

So like I said, I’ve seen this movie about a dozen times before, but this time, something felt different. Perhaps it’s because I just got out of a very long relationship, perhaps it’s my age, perhaps it’s because I need a gimmick to write the blog post about, but I began to wonder for the first time ever – what would it be like if I had a kid of my own? And since this is a ridiculous comedy blog in which I’m going to run away from expressing any true or genuine emotion (such as how I really feel about getting older and having kids) I’m going to wonder what would happen if Nicolas Cage and I had a kid together. For starters, it might look a little like this:

 

Hmmmm....I wonder what would happen if Nicolas Cage and I and Harry Potter all had a kid together...

Hahaha. That was fun. Can we get a normal baby up in here, please?

That’s better.

Okay, so here I am, raising this baby. Let’s call the baby Nicky Cage. And let’s make my wife not actually Nicolas Cage (because it’d be swordfight city in the bedroom ('cause we're both dudes (the swords are our dicks))) so we’ll call her Nicole Cage. Are we clear?

So, I wonder...what would it be like? To be married? To have a child? To be a real "adult?"

To be perfectly honest, I've never given it much thought in the past. I really feel like I just graduated into adulthood. I'm seriously having a difficult time learning how to clean a bathroom proper or what that crazy packet of full healthcare and retirement plans they hand you when you start a new job means. Shit - I barely even have a "job" to begin with. HOW THE HELL ARE NICOLE CAGE AND I SUPPOSED TO RAISE THIS BABY TOGETHER?

My point is – I guess I'm just a selfish sonofabitch. I feel like it’s A LOT of work just to function as a semi-normal adult. Compound a kid on top of that and now I’m responsible for all of my own adultness plus making sure I don’t fuck up this little person...man...I’m getting anxiety just thinking about it.

Now, I know you're all gonna say “that’ll change with age.” Well, I’m 30 years old. I don’t feel much like a teenager anymore, even though the amount of time I spend laughing at farts and masturbating has in no way diminished over the years. And the waves, up and down, between one day and the next, are feeling less choppy. I'm leveling out. So when exactly is it all supposed to change? When I’m 35? 40? 55? 80?

So now you all say “that’ll change when you meet the right person.” Here's the thing: Nicole Cage is the right person. She's the right person because she's my fictional wife. My paradigm wife. The unobtainable perfect yin to my crooked yang. I created her for this blog post. In essence, she's an extension of me. I am my own right person, and I've know my self my entire life. Am I supposed to meet some girl and be browbeaten into a different way of thinking? Is that how "love" works? I refuse to believe that.

So when am I going to be ready to have kids? Probably never.

But I’m sure there’s a busted condom with my name on it somewhere. And when that day comes, I guess I’ll have no choice. It is what it is. I'll be raising my own Arizona. And there's really nothing wrong with that, right? Maybe that's what transitioning into adulthood and parenthood is all about. Maybe, for some of us, it isn't about taking the bull by the horns, but rather running screaming through the streets of Pamplona. I suppose there's no wrong way to grow-up. As long as we breathe, we're all somewhere along the line in that process. And there's got to be some solace in that. Isn’t that right, Lady MacCage?

How funny are all these Nic Cage pics, huh?

5 Cageheads out of 5.