Apparently God is a major movie buff.
Chances are pretty good that if you...*checks news*...live literally anywhere in the world, you're probably quarantined and maybe dying from COVID-19 right now.
I probably am right now. Sure, some psychologists are saying, "Don't let coronavirus tip society into panic," but panic is a natural response to unseen threats that make us question our survival and why we even exist. So if you're going to be stuck in your bedroom during what very well might be your last two weeks on earth, you might as well catch up on all the movies that God quizzes you on when you get into heaven.
Wait, what? That's right, dear reader, God is a major movie buff, according to a prophetic vision I had last night while quarantined, and let me assure you that I immediately and accurately jotted His favorite titles down so you can ace the test and not be cast into the fiery pits of Eternal Damnation. Remember, if you don't die as a seasoned movie buff, God will not let you in. Look it up in The Bible.
According to God, high-budget Hollywood retellings of biblical stories are His favorite form of worship. So it almost goes without saying that Darren Aronofsky's Noah epic, starring Russell Crowe, made the list. While many of the other Hollywood bible epics take too many liberties for God's liking, God assured me that Noah is a spot-on interpretation, and that Noah's real adopted daughter actually did look a little bit like Emma Watson. God also mentioned that flooding the world was one of the coolest things He ever did, so it was pretty fun to watch on the big screen.
The Passion of the Christ
Mel Gibson's poorly received Jesus Christ biopic may be a slog to get through, but honestly, we should have seen this coming. After all, when a guy who vocally hates Jews decides to direct a movie about God's son, you better believe God's going to take notice. The funny part is that God didn't like it either. God made it crystal clear that Mel Gibson failed to capture Jesus' mannerisms and that the main point in having us watch is so we can all make fun of it together from an informed perspective.
God's Not Dead
With a paltry budget of only two million dollars, and a very silly cameo appearance from Duck Dynasty star Willie Robertson, God informed me that even though He hates to use the term, He couldn't help feeling like God's Not Dead took His name in vain. The movie's premise that God actually cares whether or not some dumb college students believe in Him was deeply offensive, especially when the only thing He actually cares about is whether or not we can pass his cinematic litmus test. He hopes that we can use take this movie as a lesson in what not to do.
Gods of Egypt
Straight up, God would not stop praising Gods of Egypt. This is a direct quote from God during my quarantined vision: "Dude, Gods of Egypt is so underrated. Realizing there wasn't going to be a sequel was the exact thing that made me start coronavirus." God clarified that while it's technically a good-bad movie, it's so good-bad that it might actually just be amazing. He's really into good-bad movies, so that's probably a useful thing to keep in mind when you kick the bucket. Also, if you happen to be Tommy Wiseau, he's going to talk your ear off. Like, he loves you, man.
Paul Blart: Mall Cop
Okay, this was a surprise. It turns out that God's favorite movie, in the history of the medium, is Paul Blart: Mall Cop. He doesn't even like it ironically; he actually thinks it's good. I asked him if he had ever seen the comparisons between Paul Blart: Mall Cop and Neon Genesis Evangelion and, I kid you not, God says, "Who do you think came up with that first?" Admittedly, when God first said that Paul Blart: Mall Cop was his favorite movie, I doubted his taste in film for the briefest moment, but oh God, did God prove me wrong. The dude is absorbing cinema at a whole different level. I mean, this is the same guy who came up with mountains and diamonds and fish, of course He knows what He's talking about. I should never have doubted God, and now I know that when I die from COVID-19, God will be gaining another little film bro in heaven.
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The rocker celebrates his 45th birthday today
Jack White almost became a priest.
But then again, did he? The iconic rocker has regularly beguiled the press. "I'd got accepted to a seminary in Wisconsin," he told 60 Minutes Mike Wallace back in 2005 in what seemed like a moment of genuine candor. "At the last second, I thought, 'I'll just go to public school."
Whether you believe that story or not, the blues-rock polymath, who turns 45 today, has led an undeniably punk life and crafted some of the most sacred rock music in history. Two decades after The White Stripes' self-titled debut, Jack White has remained purposefully slippery with the public. He told publications that he and Meg White, his then-wife and White Stripes-cohort, were the youngest of ten siblings and claimed that his label, Third Man Records, used to be a candy company, among other outlandish claims.
Dodge & Burn by The Dead Weather<span style="display:block;position:relative;padding-top:56.25%;" class="rm-shortcode" data-rm-shortcode-id="59052057d58747fe96735fc4bb4c2b46"><iframe lazy-loadable="true" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/98oMvKF-78Y?rel=0" width="100%" height="auto" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" style="position:absolute;top:0;left:0;width:100%;height:100%;"></iframe></span><p>Cocked and loaded, The Dead Weather's 2015 effort, <em>Dodge and Burn,</em> finds the band at their most calamitous. "I got a bloodhound tooth hanging like a dagger," Kills vocalist Alison Mosshart cackles on "Let Me Through" with distorted hisses. With White on drums, The Dead Weather is White at his most implacable. </p><p>When he announced no touring would be done in support of <em>Dodge & Burn</em>, the implication was that TDW was formed as a sort of catharsis for White, somewhere to put all the rock-and-roll tar that he's built up over the years. The Captain Beefhart inspired super-group all but detonated on <em>Dodge & Burn</em>, with their slinky grunge guitars and feral growls all sounding extra crunchy.</p><p>The band reflects on the inevitable apocalypse with a bombastic snap that gladly welcomes violence and destruction ("Open Up") and rolls their eyes at anyone who threatens to ruin their demolition, even if its Jesus himself ("Buzzkill(er)." <em>Dodge & Burn</em> is reserved exclusively for those who need to let off a little steam...or start a bar fight.<br></p>
Consolers of the Lonely by The Raconteurs<span style="display:block;position:relative;padding-top:56.25%;" class="rm-shortcode" data-rm-shortcode-id="a8ba051ea61ebd21775ad6dc743cd0b3"><iframe lazy-loadable="true" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7lL1CW140FQ?rel=0" width="100%" height="auto" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" style="position:absolute;top:0;left:0;width:100%;height:100%;"></iframe></span><p>Before Beyonce's surprise album redefined the marketing of new releases, The Raconteurs rushed the arrival of 2008's <em>Consolers of the Lonely</em>, all but upending press coverage and flipping mass media the bird in the process. Announced and released within a week, <em>Consoler's</em> remains one of The Raconteur's grittiest records. </p><p><em>Broken Boy Soldier's</em> light-hearted buoyancy was nowhere to be seen. "Haven't seen the sun in a week, my skin is getting pale," calls out Brendan Banson before cackling guitars snap the necks of anyone who has a problem with it on Consoler's intro. </p><p>Jack White is dripping in manic swagger as The Raconteur's co-frontman. He makes the big hooks sound comfortable and casual as if he's jamming with some friends in his garage. He morphs the country twang of "Top Yourself" into a crude, braggadocious declaration of anti-love, ("How you gonna get that deep, when your daddy ain't around here to do it to you?") and uses bright, uplifting horns on "Many Shades of Black" to affirm to the same lover that their tumultuous relationship was destined to end, so it's okay. </p><p>It's all so petty and punk, with White at times bordering on deranged, but it's what adds to The Racounter's unsettling charm. They refuse to be your favorite rock band.</p>
Get Behind Me Satan by The White Stripes<span style="display:block;position:relative;padding-top:56.25%;" class="rm-shortcode" data-rm-shortcode-id="42a95cacb5b448443b5dcfaee6f342ff"><iframe lazy-loadable="true" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Hrcum8DHDpo?rel=0" width="100%" height="auto" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" style="position:absolute;top:0;left:0;width:100%;height:100%;"></iframe></span><p>While highly contested, <em>Get Behind Me Satan</em> is The White Stripes boldest album, taking the blues-rock sounds of <em>Elephant </em>and <em>De Stijl </em>that brought them national fame and throwing it to the wolves in favor of oddball piano arrangements, acoustic guitars, and many marimbas. It finds White spiraling into despair, with quirky tracks like "White Moon" and "Little Ghost" sounding like a real-time emotional breakdown, the latter's narrator performing obscure tasks like "dancing" with "the wall" as he falls in love with a ghost only he can see.</p><p>While the record left critics confused, it's jarring sound redefined The White Stripes' identity. Known for their hard-hitting arena rock, <em>Get Behind Me Satan</em> blew open the door for what came after. They were no longer confined to anything and were free to create whatever they pleased. It was inherently a move that was super rock and roll.<br></p>
Lazaretto by Jack White<span style="display:block;position:relative;padding-top:56.25%;" class="rm-shortcode" data-rm-shortcode-id="8c43c41a2df22aba84ac16ddf5c1d9b5"><iframe lazy-loadable="true" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qI-95cTMeLM?rel=0" width="100%" height="auto" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" style="position:absolute;top:0;left:0;width:100%;height:100%;"></iframe></span><p><em>Lazaretto</em> is Jack White as his most relentless. Each song on his magnetic sophomore work is a show of force. While Meg White's absence is notable and at times the album borders on Jack White just flexing his guitar chops, each song is full of intricacies that tumble into each other, redefining what's possible under the "blues-rock" moniker. It's inherently busy, with tracks like "High Ball Stepper" descending into chaos with its screams, crisp guitars, organs, and banjo slowly closing in on you–but <em>Lazaretto </em>found White pushing himself endlessly. What was he truly capable of when alone in a room with other bold musicians? The answer was: a lot. </p><p>The cover-art finds White sitting elegantly on a stone throne decorated by angels, a casual flex by White, who believed himself to be a tour-de-force, otherworldly musician, unconfined to the creative restrictions of the mortal world. It was a bold claim that only Jack White could make.</p>
Paul Blart: Mall Cop is the greatest Thanksgiving/Black Friday movie of all time.
Thanksgiving is okay, but let's be honest, the day after Thanksgiving is so much better.
While Thanksgiving is all about eating poorly seasoned turkey and fuming at your boomer dad who won't stop whining about "illegals" (and failing to grasp the irony of doing so on a day celebrating the genocide of indigenous people at the hands of white, European colonialists), the day after Thanksgiving is all about the movie Paul Blart: Mall Cop.
Paul Blart: Mall Cop - watch the trailer www.youtube.com
Don't be fooled by the janky trailer that seems like someone edited out a laugh track. In stark contrast to its Tomatometer score of 33%, Paul Blart: Mall Cop is inarguably one of the greatest crowning achievements of American cinema. No, I'm not joking.
Paul Blart: Mall Cop tells the story of one Paul Blart, an obese New Jersey man who wants to be a cop but can't pass the physical fitness test because of said obesity. So instead, Paul Blart becomes a mall cop who takes his job way too seriously. Lucky for him, on the night of Black Friday (that's the day after Thanksgiving!), a group of thugs decide to pull a mall heist (no, that doesn't make sense), and it's up to Paul as a low-wage mall employee to save capitalism as we know it.
If you've never bothered watching an Oscar-winning drama, you might be shocked by the ferocity with which Kevin James (who also co-wrote the movie) approaches the role of Paul Blart. Take this scene, for instance, wherein Blart accidentally drinks an entire pitcher of margarita and then assaults a lot of people in a restaurant. When Blart shoves pineapple into a man's mouth and then climbs on a booth to grab another man's head before hurling the restaurant's old, hired singer offstage, Kevin James transcends traditional physical comedy. This isn't just your typical goofy bumblef*ck bumbling around. You can see a dark fire in Paul Blart's eyes and a latent rage bubbling just beneath his squishy surface.
Paul Blart: Mall Cop (2009) - Getting Wasted Scene (2/10) | Movieclips www.youtube.com
The darkness of Paul Blart has not gone unnoticed by fans, with some comparing the Paul Blart franchise (there is also a Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2) to the incredibly depressing Japanese masterpiece, Neon Genesis Evangelion––an anime about children growing up in the remains of an apocalyptic, technologically advanced future. Considering Blart's violent fury coupled with his attachment to his segway, the Evangelion comparisons practically write themselves.
Just look at how well Paul Blart fits into the Evangelion intro.
【新世紀エヴァンゲリ/Shin Seiki Mall Cop/Neon Genesis Mall Cop】 OP #1「A Cruel Angel's Thesis」by Yoko Takahashi www.youtube.com
But Paul Blart: Mall Cop isn't just another Evangelion rip-off. Whereas Evangelion approaches its dark subject matter through a distinctly Japanese lens, Paul Blart is patently American.
The true horror of Paul Blart: Mall Cop is that the apocalyptic hellscape he resides in is, in reality, just the current state of American capitalism and consumer culture. The movie's metaphorical precision is laser-sharp, and it's no mistake that Blart––a low-skill, low-wage mall employee tasked with saving a capitalist structure from which he does not benefit––faces both his greatest triumph and his greatest sadness on Black Friday––a day dedicated to sales. It is as if the movie is shouting at us: "Don't you sheep see that this is all a sham? Don't you realize that, like Blart, we've been tricked into tying our very identities to consumer capitalism?" In this light, Blart's rage is the quiet rage of the American underclass, working so hard to protect a system that doesn't protect them. His outbursts are the protests of the people, and his eventual defeat of the thugs is the sad, ultimate complacence that seems to overcome us at the end of the day.
After all, we still need to eat, right? Then, once we're full, we're primed to go out and spend money again. Rage, eat, spend, repeat. That's the true capitalist spirit of Thanksgiving and Black Friday, and no movie better reflects this reality than Paul Blart: Mall Cop.
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