Welcome to Monsoon-a-day.
Where I watch and review a movie a day. Or whenever I fucking feel like it.
The greatest barometer to chart a celebrities waning fame, is to judge it against whatever shitty product they’ve decided to slap their name onto. For every successful clothing and perfume line, there’s a million Pastamania’s and whatever the fuck David Carradine was drunkingly trying to hawk on infomercials at 3 o’clock in the morning.
The man is desperately trying to convince us this half of a hose will “unleash your chi” and “energize your brain.” Three things: 1. Carradine is not a doctor 2. Was never a martial artist, so I don’t he even knows what the fuck chi is and 3. It’s a small piece of hose that does nothing. It doesn’t even look cool when you move it around.
Carradine is far from the worst offender. Because no matter how crazy drunk he appears in the infomercial, he’s only crazy because of the drink. He has to get drunk to go to crazy town, athletes have a full time residency. With the exception of the absolutely fantastic George Forman grill (thank you again for giving it to me on Christmas aunt Becky. I swear I use it all the time. Just like my miniature popcorn machine from last year and the miniature rice cooker from the year before that. I definitely did not regift them immediately), every celebrity endorsed product by an athlete is fucking banana balls crazy.
Muhammad Ali had his name on roach traps, Joe Namath endorsed panty hose and Jimmy Johnson made an ExtenZe commercial so cringe worthy, your face almost collapses in on itself from the wincing.
And that’s just the commercials and adverts. Some are cocky/crazy enough to believe that, if America can handle 30 seconds of their face on tv, they can handle a 90 minute movie. That’s where a studio or produce would marry the two ideas into one believable package. Wrestlers are clearly action stars, basketball players can be in sports dramas but what about football players? They’re built like wrestlers but they have no acting training, so there’s no way they can pull a drama or comedy.
Kids film. Kids’ll eat any amount of shit you put in front of them as long as things are moving and there are at least three colors on screen at any given time. But writing a kids film is hard. You have to come up with an idea, and then write it and it’s a whole process. Isn’t there an easier way?
The answer is yes. There is an easier way. As long as you’re crazier than a fucking loon and could give two shits less about copyright infringement. All you need to do is take your favorite athlete, put them into your favorite film and voila! instant success.
For those of you that lead such incredibly interesting lives that you couldn’t spare 17 minutes to watch a short, you missed out on what is, for my money, the craziest thing a celebrity has ever put their name on.
Masters of the Gridiron is The Lord of the Rings cut down to 15 minutes and the fellowship is made up of football players. Oh and Saruman is played by Tiny Tim. There are also ninjas, a bear (which somebody wrestles) and a music video. It’s the kind of insane hodge podge of ideas William “The Refrigerator” Perry would come up with after his 87th concussion.
And it’s amazing.
Four years after that masterpiece, somebody decided it would be a great idea to roll the dice one more time. Going back to the aforementioned two rules of success, all we need is another film to rip off but which one?
It’s E.T. but with steroid injected meat puppets and a little person dressed up as an alien dog man.
Thank Christ for all of that sweet, sweet 80’s cocaine because there’s no fucking way on earth this would exist without it.
Bonus Entry: Doctor Death
This has nothing to do with crazy athletes. So there’s not much in the way of a usable segue (unless you count the football helmets everyone wears) but keeping in the tradition of ripping off Hollywood movies, Doctor Death is a group of 15 year olds doing their damnedest to create their own Mad Max. And it fucking works.