ANDY RICHTER RE-TEAMS WITH CONAN IN LA FOR TONIGHT SHOW

Yay! That is all.

Mickey Rourke Makes Acceptance Speech History

Mickey Rourke set new highs and lows for outlandish acceptance speeches Saturday afternoon after receiving a Best Actor award for his performance in "The Wrestler".

One of the first things to come out of the star's mouth was his declaration that "Eric Roberts is the fucking man!". From here, it only got stranger and funnier. He thanked everyone from Melissa Tomei (later correcting himself to have meant to say Marissa) to a girl that he only referred to as "gap tooth". He thanked his publicist for always telling him "who to fuck and who not to fuck", he thanked his dead dogs. He mentioned how great it was to be given this award by three such talented people, meaning presenters Laura Dern and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. When he realized that the third person was just a stage usher, he quickly amended that statement to "just two talented people. I don't know what you do, honey." Other topics included sodomy, steroids and being told to "fuck off" by the Santa Monica Police Department amongst other absurdities. All of this came after he smooched Darren Aronofsky, the director of "The Wrestler", immediately following the announcement that he had won. It was abundantly clear that it was unscripted and even more obvious that Aronofsky did not approve. No telling if this plum crazy performance will affect any of the goodwill that Rourke has been able to establish in the last few months or so, but unfortunately Rourke did not get to make a follow-up performance at the Oscars, losing to the always nominated Sean Penn. Rourke went away for a long time before his recent success, up until now it could have been assumed that he spent his time out of the Hollywood spotlight on Earth. Now, no one can really be sure that he didn't spin off into outer space and other galaxies for a decade or so.

FROM THE PLEASE DON'T LET THIS BE TRUE DEPARTMENT: Limp Bizkit Returns

When one door closes, another one opens and through this door walks a talentless fuckface in a backwards red baseball hat with an inexplicable amount of former success and riches. Ozzfest will be on hiatus this summer, prompting Fred Durst to announce that Limp Bizkit will be reuniting to solidify their position as Kings of Douchebaggery as they travel the United States. Tapping into the previously ignored white trash angst audience, Durst and company were able to have a meteoric rise to fame based on the strength of a (that's right) George Michael cover. From there they soared to the top of the charts and inspired an army of useless jackasses in red hats to jump and scream their assheaded lyrics all over the country. After failed follow-up albums and a plethora of dismal side projects by everyone in the band, the need for fame and money has forced their world back together. Nevermind, scratch that, these are the turdwads that do it all for the nookie. Ugh!

In much more exciting news, Joss Whedon and Eliza Dushku make their return to television tonight with the premiere of "Dollhouse". This should bring happiness to the heart of anyone who was ever a fan of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer", "Bring it On" or masturbating. The world just seems like a better place with her on television.

NBC Needs More Medical Drama...STAT!

While "ER" (yup, still on the air) enters the final weeks of the show's seemingly endless run of drama, inter-doctor romances and primetime exposed intestines, the peacock hasn't even waited for the show's remains to grow cold by quickly filling their medical drama void with "Trauma". They may have missed the boat with this decision, when the ebb and flow of primetime drama has clearly shifted from medical/hospital based dramas to crime scene investigation dramas. Either way, both genres fill the need of the American TV audience; sexy co-stars falling for each other while working in close proximity with corpses. Also in development at NBC is a swing-for-the-fences existential drama that places dozens of strangers on an island after their plane crashes only to find out that they are part of a large human experiment that may actually be purgatory or something else. Yeah, like that bullshit will ever gain momentum.

Disney's Net Income Falls 32%

The lingering economic downturn was bound to take its toll on the entertainment and media industry at some point and today news arrived that Disney's net income has dropped 32%. The loss has sent Mickey into a drug fueled crime spree that threatens to ruin the family friendly reputation that the empire has managed to build over the last 100 years. Time Warner is reporting a $16B loss, but there's no telling of a like downfall for Ted Turner. Somewhere Jane Fonda is laughing, just not at "Georgia Rule".

Bruce Springsteen's Crotch Invades America's Collective Living Room

"Step away from the guacamole and put those chicken fingers down!"

yelped Bruce Springsteen during Sunday's Super Bowl Halftime Show. Anyone who adhered to those directions was promptly given a generous helping of Bruce Springsteen's loins. About halfway through his performance, he eyes a stage level camera from across the stage and slide directly into it...cock first, sending DVR devices into wild repeat all across the country. The creepiest part about The Boss' stunt was the look of boyish exuberance he had on his face after executing the crotch slide. It was almost as if he had a premediated idea to shove his package right into America's conscience and history. "Dear America, these are my balls and penis!"

Righteous Kill

Twenty years ago the mention of Robert De Niro and Al Pacino appearing in a movie together as long time NYPD partners would circulate an enormous amount of buzz and (with full heavy-handed pun intended) “heat”. In present times not much can be expected of the duo, whose best years are clearly behind them. Rumors circulate that De Niro only still acts because he has huge back end profit sharing deals that are allowing him to grow his beloved Tribeca Film Festival to a size that rivals the Sundance/Cannes/Toronto circuit. Pacino may not have an excuse, but neither of these declining stars should be excused for their appearance in John Avnet’s latest by-the-numbers buddy cop drama thriller. When you think of all the buddy cop movie clichés that were popularized in the late 80’s and early 90’s, there was a strict dynamic between Detective X and Detective Y. Here, BOTH partners play the maverick cop who plays by his own rules. There is no foil. Their relationship is all Riggs and no Murtaugh. Do they BOTH pay alimony? Are they BOTH widowers? Are they BOTH recovering/suffering from alcoholism? Is the chief sick of defending BOTH of their rogue ways to the suits downtown? Are they BOTH getting demoted to traffic patrol?

There is a serial killer/vigilante on a spree throughout NYC and longtime partners Turk and Rooster (De Niro and Pacino) are quickly assigned to the case. It is exciting to see both men sharing screen time in many of the opening scenes, but the hammy dialogue quickly erases any iconic value that this may have. As an example, Pacino says something along the lines of, “Don’t you believe in miracles?” To which De Niro replies, “Maybe if you pick up a check, that would be a miracle.” Zing! As the bodies pile up, two other detectives (John Leguizamo and Donny Wahlberg) link a body in their jurisdiction to the same killer that Turk and Rooster have been investigating. The link to all the cases are ridiculous pieces of poetic verse that the killer is leaving behind to let the whole world know that justice has failed the victims of the people he/she has been dispensing with. A skateboarding pimp, a pedophiliac priest, a child killer, a rapist and various other baddies are left with derivations of “roses are red, violets are blue” on their carcasses to justify their deaths. Leguizamo soon begins to believe that the killer is probably someone with a badge and the turmoil within the department is clearly exposed. This leads to an absolutely awful scene between De Niro and Leguizamo who argue about the legitimacy of accusing a cop. Leguizamo: “It’s a cop, it’s a cop, it’s a cop, it’s a cop.” De Niro: “How can you say it’s a cop, it’s a cop, it’s a cop, it’s a cop?” (mocking Leguizamo’s voice and inflection). Pacino just stands in the background with his fingers crossed hoping that his skin can stay stapled on long enough for the director to yell cut. Awful. It turns out that Turk and Rooster have had some sort of tie to all the victims in their past and De Niro quickly becomes the main suspect. The drama fails to build throughout the rest of Act II and it fails to pick up any momentum on the way to the finish line. There are very few techniques used to instill further drama as the film nears its climax. There is an attempt to build some mystery as to who the killer is by using the camera from a first person perspective, but it really only adds to the overall ridiculous structure of the movie. Throughout the film characters are addressed by their first names and nicknames, but now when characters are looking into the camera, addressing the killer, they only address the camera as “Detective”. Brian Dennehy also joins the cast as the Chief, in perfect buddy cop movie cliché form, who is sick of scolding them for their screwball antics and hands out suspensions accordingly. At this point in the movie the audience has to begin to wonder, why haven’t these lawmen fucking retired already? De Niro/Pacino/Dennehy (aged 66, 69, 71) are all eligible to be collecting social security and making healthy contributions to AARP. Why are they still working in a police department? Go sit in an above ground pool in some Long Island suburb. Stop running over catchers at inter-precinct softball games and smell the roses. Where are your gold watches and grandchildren? At this point, who cares?

The premise of this movie is pretty clear. Put Robert De Niro and Al Pacino onscreen together and people will pay to see that. The movie made money, thus making it a success, right? There was obviously no other goal here at all. The film comes to an obvious conclusion, but won’t spoil that for anyone who still hasn’t given up on these two. American moviegoers everywhere should quietly mourn the relevance of these once cherished actors, but they both insist upon tarnishing their legacies. The film isn’t awful because it’s being compared to “The Godfather” and “Taxi Driver”, it’s awful because it’s awful. Bob Dylan still makes great music, Bruce Springsteen can still tear a stadium apart with his live performances, Al Pacino did star in “The Insider”. However, for this film, it would be best to paraphrase Danny Glover from the quintessential buddy cop movie, De Niro and Pacino are waaaaaaay “too old for this shit”.

*1/2

Highlights

Rob Durdek (of "Rob n’ Big" fame) plays a skateboarding pimp whose only job is to get shot in the head and yet he still proves incompetent at being able to do that.

De Niro, 66, runs over John Leguizamo in a softball game while Pacino cheers him on like his girlfriend. Awesome.

Carla Gugino’s boobs. Always.