By Eric Weber
As a connoisseur of horror and cult films, one might think that I would have absolutely zero interest in the action/comedy series Smokey and the Bandit. For one, the movies are all about trucks and cars, which does not appeal to me at all; and secondly, the smart-alecky, “good ol’ boy” humor can quickly become annoying.
Luckily, the movies are graced with a great cast of actors that make all of these macho hijinks watchable. I am definitely a fan of Burt Reynolds; I think he has a really good sense of humor about his image and is a legitimately funny guy. Sally Field is, of course, cute and perky. Yet the adorable Jerry Reed seems to be the unsung hero of the series with his infectious smile and charming personality. These performers enhance the second movie in the series, Smokey and the Bandit II, by taking what could have easily become a plodding and simple car chase movie and making it one of my favorites
Then we have Jackie Gleason.
By Jemiah Jefferson
“I only have one speed: balls out.”
One of the essential films of my childhood was released in 1980, and I am almost completely certain that I saw it in the theater, being an avid fan of both Richard Pryor and Gene Wilder by the age of eight. Besides hearing Pryor’s comedy albums, I had also been lucky enough to catch Silver Streak on late-night TV as a wee one, and I most absolutely had seen The Wiz in the theater, and loved the hell out of it. And I am fairly certain I came out of the womb as a fan of Gene Wilder; no one can prove otherwise.
By Cait Brennan
It’s hard to believe that once upon a time, at least in mainstream studio movies, gross-out comedy pretty much didn’t exist. The Motion Picture Production Code dutifully garroted impure creative expression from the early ’30s through most of the 1960s, and when the Code was finally broken, New Hollywood spent ten years making mirthless character studies about sexually dysfunctional bank robbers, suicidal Vietnam casualties, and internecine crime syndicates. There were hints of what was to come in movies like Michael Ritchie’s The Bad News Bears, but for the most part, auteur baby-boomer navel-gazing was the order of the day.
All that changed in July of 1978, when a no-budget frat comedy called Animal House belched its way into theatres with no real stars and zero expectations. It grossed over a million dollars a week and ran for a year and a half. Like a flatulent Trinity explosion, Animal House set off a raunchy-comedy arms race, with every studio in Hollywood frantically green-lighting anything with a dick joke. 1979’s Meatballs struck more box office gold, and by 1980 the marketplace was near-flooded with “adult comedies” from Airplane! and Caddyshack to the Tony Danza/Fran Drescher classic The Hollywood Knights. Even Mad magazine tried to copy their effete Ivy-League “betters” with the nakedly imitative Up The Academy (directed, almost beyond the limits of human credulity, by Robert Downey, Sr.)
In a year like that, it’s not surprising that a great movie might have gotten lost in the crowd. One did, and it might be the best of the bunch: director Robert Zemeckis’ 1980 comedy Used Cars. Zemeckis’ second feature (after his inventive and joyous Beatles tribute I Want To Hold Your Hand), Used Cars stars Kurt Russell and Jack Warden in a merciless send up of American corruption in the pre-Reagan era, with a razor-sharp script penned by Zemeckis and Bob Gale.
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By Emily Carney
Being a Navy veteran, I have an abiding interest in military-themed films of any sort, so I decided to re-watch 1980’s Private Benjamin. While it’s no G.I. Jane (perhaps the greatest female-in-the-military film, in which we see Demi Moore become the baddest, hardest Navy SEAL ever), it does have its hilarious moments (and its anxiety-provoking, PTSD-inducing moments, for me).
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By John Lane
Collectors’ Choice Music has just released eight out-of-print novelty albums (encompassing the years 1962-1967) by the singular Allan Sherman. Given that the novelty album is an art form now seemingly owned by Weird Al Yankovic, one could be forgiven for not understanding the lineage from whence Weird Al sprang.
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By Greta Pistaceci
I first came across Ergo Phizmiz a few years ago, though I am not exactly sure where—the British artist’s cover of the entirety of the Velvet Underground’s White Light/White Heat was available as a free download somewhere or other online (I have a feeling this was probably the WFMU blog, or one that might have linked to his personal website).
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By Ann Clarke
I hate most commercials. Probably 99 percent of them! I especially hate commercials with those goddamned whining wuss-bags playing an acoustic guitar, or a whispery girl with a ukulele. Fuck that bullshit!
In the midst of having to suffer through that torture, I noticed a few diamonds in the roughage. . . and let me just say these are brilliant, and whoever came up with these advertising concepts has my unyielding respect for going against the current shitty trends in commercialism.
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By Adam McIntyre
The latest effort/persona from Drew (of Toothpaste For Dinner, Married To The Sea, and others): Crudbump.
Bathe in its magnificence. . . wait, did you hook up a subwoofer? I told you to hook up your subwoofer. Pretty sure I did tell you. You’re going to need it.
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By Laura L.
The moment I saw the commercials for the new movie Hot Tub Time Machine starring Rob Corddry, John Cusack, and. . . two other guys, my friends and I jumped at the chance to see it. Not because it looked to be a fine piece of cinema, but as fans of Mystery Science Theater 3000, we love making fun of craptastic movies. For the record, we have all also been to public showings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, a movie I cannot watch on my own because, let’s face it, it’s not that great on its own. [Blasphemy!—Ed.]
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By Lisa Anderson
The Evil Mad Scientist is a familiar figure in popular culture, and is found most often in science fiction, horror, or superhero tales. Evil Mad Scientists are not to be confused with their more benevolent counterparts, like Emmett Brown of Back to the Future. While the Evil Mad Scientist can be a figure of great terror, when this archetype is used for comic effect the results can be hilarious. Following are five of the best examples.
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