Maybe you're sick of discussing awful male directors. Or maybe you think there are male directors who are awful, but still need a defense based on the strength of their work, or even that they are misunderstood geniuses and not awful at all. You've seen the films and yes, you recognize the misogyny, the excessive violence, the homophobia, but you can recognize that without throwing away the gorgeous cinematography, the artful cadence of the dialogue, the contributions he's made to the field of filmmaking. And so to heck with society's puritanical standards of good taste, you're just going to keep watching those Woody Allen movies and you don't care who [...]
About ten minutes into The Room, a film that is considered the worst ever made, the actress Juliette Danielle has to make love to her fiancé, who is played by the film's writer and director, Tommy Wiseau. They are atop a bed of rose petals. Soft R&B plays. The camera lingers over Johnny’s pale bottom. Cascades of mermaid-length black hair spill over his back cleavage. As he thrusts into what seems to be Lisa’s belly button, she looks at him chidingly, as if he’s a soused comic who’s just told a fairly racist joke at an open mic.
Like most soft-core sex scenes, the love scene in The Room is [...]
I have been woefully remiss in keeping you abreast of developments concerning the contract issues for the cast of MTV's "Jersey Shore." I blame the ample distractions of the season, but that's really no excuse: I've failed you. As a small attempt at making amends, let me direct you to this exhaustive discussion of the subject, which clarifies many misconceptions, elucidates the struggles of these talented young people, and addresses the poignancy of impermanence by way of a remarkably apposite quotation from 1995's classic teaching tool Showgirls. It's ALL there.