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Today's post title brought to you by the crew at MST3K.
Anyway, I have an Embarassing Celebrity Crush confession to make: I think Steve Irwin's cute.
I've thought he was cute ever since I first caught a glimpse of him while flipping channels...probably a good couple of years before his US popularity skyrocketed, so I had no idea who this guy was except that he was a hoot to watch. Back then, I would find his show on TV once in a while late at night. Perhaps it's just my memory, or perhaps I wasn't paying much attention, but I don't remember him being quite so spastic then, or pulling so many crazy stunts. It was his sheer earnestness that caught my eye.
I won't go out of my way to catch his show(s), but the crush means that I'll hang around and watch for a bit if I see him while channel-surfing. It also means that when I sat down last night to watch Collision Course for the sake of seeing David Wenham, I didn't actually gouge my eyes out at the sheer inanity of the "knock out a movie and get some quick cash" "plot."
Actually, it could've been pretty good. The Crocodile Hunter is about as far away from the world of international espionage as you can get, so there's something almost brilliantly surreal about putting both in the pot and stirring, like pitting Rachel Ray against the crime syndicate or setting up Ty Pennington and the crew from Extreme Makeover: Home Edition against drug lords. They actually have a go at it in a couple of scenes, like the one where wall-size publicity shots of Irwin in his trademark wacky poses are flashed as a backdrop to a grim CIA meeting, but on the whole the movie would need to be about fifty times more clever to pull that sort of thing off. Pity, it could've been a great bit of satire.
I do have to say, though. I've never found scatalogical humor the least bit funny, but the scene in which Irwin picks up an object covered in croc poop and, curious to see what it is, matter-of-factly wipes it off on his shirt and hands as though it were rainwater, had me rolling. The just-barely-watchable movie coasts on his natural charm, but that's really all that can be said for it.
David Wenham is thoroughly under-used in a role that gives him nothing to do other than look alternately nervous and exasperated. But he's still blazingly hot in his ten or so minutes onscreen, so all's well that ends well, I say.
Anyway, I have an Embarassing Celebrity Crush confession to make: I think Steve Irwin's cute.
I've thought he was cute ever since I first caught a glimpse of him while flipping channels...probably a good couple of years before his US popularity skyrocketed, so I had no idea who this guy was except that he was a hoot to watch. Back then, I would find his show on TV once in a while late at night. Perhaps it's just my memory, or perhaps I wasn't paying much attention, but I don't remember him being quite so spastic then, or pulling so many crazy stunts. It was his sheer earnestness that caught my eye.
I won't go out of my way to catch his show(s), but the crush means that I'll hang around and watch for a bit if I see him while channel-surfing. It also means that when I sat down last night to watch Collision Course for the sake of seeing David Wenham, I didn't actually gouge my eyes out at the sheer inanity of the "knock out a movie and get some quick cash" "plot."
Actually, it could've been pretty good. The Crocodile Hunter is about as far away from the world of international espionage as you can get, so there's something almost brilliantly surreal about putting both in the pot and stirring, like pitting Rachel Ray against the crime syndicate or setting up Ty Pennington and the crew from Extreme Makeover: Home Edition against drug lords. They actually have a go at it in a couple of scenes, like the one where wall-size publicity shots of Irwin in his trademark wacky poses are flashed as a backdrop to a grim CIA meeting, but on the whole the movie would need to be about fifty times more clever to pull that sort of thing off. Pity, it could've been a great bit of satire.
I do have to say, though. I've never found scatalogical humor the least bit funny, but the scene in which Irwin picks up an object covered in croc poop and, curious to see what it is, matter-of-factly wipes it off on his shirt and hands as though it were rainwater, had me rolling. The just-barely-watchable movie coasts on his natural charm, but that's really all that can be said for it.
David Wenham is thoroughly under-used in a role that gives him nothing to do other than look alternately nervous and exasperated. But he's still blazingly hot in his ten or so minutes onscreen, so all's well that ends well, I say.
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