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ISSUE #107
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ArrowGreat Gaffes Through the Ages
A comprehensive list

ArrowWhy ask Why?
Five years after 9/11, the question remains unanswered
Matt Taibbi

ArrowExtreme History Makeover
Lynne Cheney and the rules of history
Christopher Famighetti

ArrowYour Tax Dollars at Work
In Washington, another tale of waste and fraud unpunished
Matt Taibbi

ArrowBaby Suri Hates You, Wants You Dead
Scott Brochert and Josh Righter

Tom Reynolds, WNY’s human colostomy bag
Allan Uthman

ArrowThe Beast Page 3
Obscure Racial Epithet

ArrowKino Korner: Movies
Hollywoodland, The Black Dahlia, The Covenant, The Last Kiss, Gridiron Gang, The Protector

As divined by your ethereal guide

Arrow[sic] - Letters
Gentleman Be Trippin', Hot Girl on Girl Misogyny, Our Illiterate Correspondent and more

Kino Korner


Hollywoodland | The Black Dahlia | The Covenant
The Last Kiss
| Gridiron Gang | The Protector

The Last Kiss

The Last KissThe more I thought about it, the more I liked the 2004 film Garden State. Initially it seemed like the stoner stepson of The Graduate lost in its own little world with the help of an overdose of antidepressants. But with subsequent viewings it came across more as a latter-day faerie tale set to a really good mix CD.

And while this was a good thing, we all know the movie machine swarms to any successful formula like that crowd of boozehounds who have to find another place to continue getting trashed because it just can’t be 4AM already. We had last year’s Elizabethtown which turned Garden State’s script into a mad lib restricted to things you’d only find in Kentucky. Pretty good soundtrack, very dull movie.

But with The Last Kiss, we hit the three strikes that justify me groaning and making fart noises in the back of the theater pretty damn quick. First off, we’ve got another American remake of an Italian film (L’Ultimo Bacio if you’re keeping score) that just screams for some American sensibilities. Second, it encourages the complete pussy mentality about being in your early 30s and still being afraid to grow up. Yeah, nothing screams date movie like a dramedy about a bunch of commitment-phobic guys who either aren’t sure if they want to stop banging college girls with belly rings that love to text or just aren’t sure if they’re with the right one. If you want to pay for that, send the nine bucks to my Paypal account and I’ll talk to you on the phone for two hours and verbally smack some sense into you.

Another thing that upset me about The Last Kiss was that it’s taking this trend of basing movies on mix CDs and running with it. The star of the movie, Zach Braff, apparently hand picked the songs himself like this is supposed to be the movie’s main selling point. Oh, wait! There’s songs by Snow Patrol, Coldplay and Ray LaMontagne! Screw plot! Let’s get to the theater before I get the idea to download the soundtrack instead!

But for as much as all of these other things pissed me off about The Last Kiss, they weren’t the worst of it. What made me mad was watching Zach Braff, who has the ability to be hilarious, sharp and entertaining, stuck in candy-ass mode for the better part of two hours. If you watch Scrubs every week on NBC you know what a treat it can be to see Braff in action. And it seems that screenwriter Paul Haggis, who wrote Crash, must have caught what was ailing Braff. Neither of them are on top of their game and it really shows. Add that to a movie that kind of defeats the purpose of going to the movies then place it side by side with this year’s most contrived soundtrack and you’re suddenly left with the feeling you’ve been cheated. In the end, you’re much better off getting drunk, calling your mother who’s still wondering when she’s going to have grandchildren, then walk down to the ghettomart. When you get back, start up your favorite iTunes playlist or mix CD then re-examine your own life as you continue drinking. If you want your own hell to continue into the next day, make sure you don’t pick up the Gatorade for the next morning.


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