Tag Archives: Shakespeare

Much Ado About Nothing: Shakespeare And Joss Whedon Doing Hand Stuff Together

Much Ado About Nothing: Shakespeare And Joss Whedon Doing Hand Stuff Together

“Buy this hand, I love thee.”

Interesting sales pitch. “Try my product — I love you.” Evidently, the prosthesis market is one of shallow desperation, a bazaar for the needy and limbless.

“Buy this hand, I love thee.”

Hands, here! Git ya hands here! Bona-fide fillers of mittens! Four fingers, a thumb, and a certificate of authenticty! Straight from The Manufacturer! No two alike! Ring-ready! Git ya hands here! Gen-u-ine human digits affixed to a quality palm! Hands for sale! I love you!

“Buy this hand, I love thee.”

I can’t believe this. After all I’ve done for you? After all I’ve done, I’m reduced to this? Begging the woman I love to buy this hand? I’m putting it all on the line right now. If you wanted it, would I not buy it for you? Would I not deliver you everything you could possibly ask of me and more? No, no. Don’t patronize me. I won’t ask again. No. Forget it. Love means nothing to you, I guess.

Obsession. Hatred. Friendship. Love.
Loyalty. Power. Deceit. Truth.
Sex. Dishonesty. Devotion. Deception. 

Hand.

Seriously, buy this hand from me. My back-alley prosthetic hand store is going out of business.

[Ed. Note: Readers will be happy to know I did finally buy a prosthetic hand from Dan Nadolny, but he still refuses to put a ring on it.]

In theaters June 7th.

Vice Versa

Vice Versa

In which Jason and Kate Sweeney review the trailer for Vice Versa. Part of a series of trailer reviews for body-switching comedies of the 70′s, 80′s, and 90′s. 

JASON

You know how I can tell this is going to be a good movie? The trailer starts off with a young Fred Savage holding a skull and sassing his dad. It really adds emphasis to your sass when you’re holding a skull. A lot of people don’t know this, but Hamlet’s famous soliloquy in which he’s holding a skull is supposed to be performed in a sassy voice. Hamlet was the Jackée of his time. And Macbeth was the Marla Gibbs. In fact, Shakespeare’s entire body of work was essentially the 227 of the 1600’s.

Even the skull has a sassy expression on its face as it vomits body-swapping magic all over Judge Reinhold and Fred Savage. It’s all like, “Gotcha’, bitches!” Much like Jackée, it has a complete inability to understand context when you’re holding it and making wishes. “Figure of speech? Figure this speech—you need to go out and get new shoes! I can see your rapidly aging toes, you body-switching dummies.”

Another way I know this is going to be a good movie? The trailer describes Judge Reinhold as a “successful businessman and self-professed workaholic” inside of whom “beats the heart of a little boy.” Yikes!

KATE

So, they swapped hearts? That’s what’s going on? Because I’m no medical expert here, but I’m unconvinced that the heart of a little boy could adequately power the body of a 36-year old man. Their souls switching: Sure. But if it’s literal heart-swapping hijinks, then I’m not prepared to believe this. Because, look at this: We’re led to believe that Fred-as-Judge’s first move in his father’s grown body is to go all wild on a skateboard—as it must be, because this is an ’80s movie, in which skateboarding must necessarily be the ultimate shorthand for rascally joie de vivre (See also, most notably: Marty McFly.) In this case, though, he’d better watch it, because the heart of a little boy shall not beat inside him for long if he doesn’t take a breather.

Oz: The Great and Powerful

Oz: The Great and Powerful

In which Jason and Marc Anthony Thompson of Chocolate Genius, Inc. discuss the trailer for Oz: The Great and Powerful.

JASON

So, as far as the Wicked Witch of the West is concerned, the wide-brimmed pointy black hat, frumpy schoolmarmish dress, and black kicks that look like my 103-year-old great aunt’s prescription shoes isn’t a witch costume, it’s just her regular clothes, right? Unless witches have some kind of uniform. They don’t really seem that organized. I know they have covens and whatnot, but those seem more like the equivalent of garage bands in the witching world. Like, let’s get together in a dank cave and jam out on some spells and stuff. Like our coven on Facebook, etc. There isn’t a federation of witches or anything. Which is why cauldron standards are never consistent.