On a generic, iron-dull day in April, I saw Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ, several weeks after its release. Saw it at the now defunct Metro Theater. A matinee. I went alone because none of my friends wanted to see The Passion, being either Jewish or atheist or in possession of their wits.
Funny story about the matinee: I was sitting on an aisle, and on the other side of the aisle was a large woman who rocked back and forth in her seat and talked to the subtitles on the screen (the film, if you recall, was subtitled because Mel chose to have all the characters speak in what he imagined were the languages of the time: Aramaic, maybe some Hebrew, perhaps some Greek, whatever). Jesus would deliver a homily and the large woman across the aisle, after reading the subtitles, lifted her hands and said, "You've got to preach it!" Pilate (Pilates?) would deliver a line indicating his disgust with the situation and the large woman, skimming the subs, responded, "I gotcha, I know!"
During the more violent scenes, which is to say during most of the film, the large woman across the aisle rocked harder and harder, lifting her hands higher and higher. "Jesus, my Lord, my Lord! Look what they've done to you! Look. What. They. Oooooooooh." By the end of the film, her hands had lifted her up so far that she was standing. "Yes, He is! He is!"
Ok. Maybe not a funny story. She was entertaining to me at the time, more entertaining than the film, but now I think maybe she had a mental disorder.
As does Mel, the director of The Passion.
But also, Mel has a talent for ranting.
True! It's a terrible talent, but it is a talent. He's a Tarantino character come to life. I mean, can't you just hear this line in a Tarantino movie: "What are you looking at, sugar tits?" Line delivered to Uma Thurman, who then delivers a massive ass-kicking in return.
And forget "dead nigger storage;" imagine if a character in Pulp Fiction said, "You look like a fucking pig in heat, and if you get raped by a pack of niggers, it will be your fault." Instant classic! Teenagers quoting it for years! If Jesus had said it in Aramaic, the large woman across the aisle would no doubt respond, "I gotcha, I know!"
The Metro Theater, where I saw The Passion, is gone, closed down some years back. It's now I think an Urban Outfitters. Passion, too, is gone, replaced by some Dan Brown nonsense, maybe, or Avatar. Passion was everywhere for a while, the most popular movie in the history of movies; now it's gone. Maybe the large woman is now sitting in screenings of the latest Twilight offal, screaming "Sparkle baby! Sparkle! Ooooooh," as she rocks back and forth in her seat.
Mel's gone too. Closed down. Vacated. Condemned. There's the 2006 "sugar tits/Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world/I own Malibu" incident, and now, in 2010, the "raped by a pack of niggers /wetback/but first you blow me" incident[s].
July doesn't seem to be Mel's best month. It was in July that he was pulled over for speeding, drunk and defiantly anti-Semitic, and it was in another July that his girlfriend decided to release tapes of Mel ranting about various ethnic groups, pigs, breast implants and blow jobs.
Oksana Grigorieva is both Mel's rebound girlfriend and the mother of his recently-born child. She recorded a lot of violent outbursts from Mel, without Mel knowing, and she took a lot of punches to the face with Mel's full knowledge (allegedly!). She may have her own reasons for wrecking Mel Gibson's career. Maybe she wants to inject her breast implants with fine sugar, maybe she wants money, maybe she actually loved him. Who knows. But whatever her reasons, Oksana recorded Mel saying things, and those things aren't pleasant, aren't worthy of People's Sexiest Man Alive 1985. Whatever her motives, she caught Mel.
Al Gore is probably relieved Mel's providing a diversion. Al might be a horny little poodle, but Mel is... Mel is an abusive, drunken, racist, sexist, homophobic dick-rag, who beats a woman holding a child and tells her she deserves it. He makes movies about Jesus and patriots and collects big bank while hating most of the audience buying tickets to see his shit. He's a fuck-stunted ass-breather with a foul mouth and a fouler soul. And if I ever see one of his movies again, it better be a film about the large woman across the aisle, and how he got her to stand and say "Amen" while fucking her up the ass. As he was punching a woman with a baby in her arms.
Crap. I didn't mean to rant. Forgive me.
Inappropriate sharing, incomprehensible ramblings, uncalled-for hostility: yup, it's a blog.
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