The Greatest B Story Ever Told

This is going to be jumbled, and it’s going to be long. Having been inspired by Spinning Girl, I’ve decided to tell a little story, review a movie, and in turn maybe reveal a little bit of myself in the process. I’ve been a writer, or at least that’s what I call myself, for many, many years, but one thing in particular spurred me to really want to write. I was about nineteen, failed out of college, figuring out what my next step was going to be, when a movie came along and changed my life. That movie? Independence Day. Yes, for months it had been hyped and built up to a deafening roar of promotional doo-doo until the day came this masterpiece was released. My friend Potters and I witnessed this debacle of a film and decided right then and there to write a screenplay. Never in my life had I witnessed a movie with such a ridiculous plot, such vomit-inducing dialogue, such a determination to take it self seriously when all common sense screamed “No! Don’t do it!” This boiling piece of crap was to be my Muse.
And we did it. We wrote a screenplay. 162 pages of amateur fluff. But it had some good dialogue, and it was believable, and it was angst-ridden. Call it The Breakfast Club with teeth…and less humor. But Potters and I pressed on, determined to get to the Land of Glory. Long story short, we gave up. I wrote another screenplay and lost it on a laptop hard drive clearly possessed by my mother, determined to force me into reality and a real job one way or another. Dejected, I folded up my creativity and stored it in the attic, to collect dust until it would be found as a relic or tossed to the curb as junk.
During this period of embarrasingly garish self-pity, Potters crafted another gem. Remember, this work is copy-written. So if you like this idea and want to steal it, prepare to get your ass sued. And if you don’t like it, everyone’s entitled to an opinion. Yours is just clearly a fucking stupid one. Ready for the idea? True Review.
Yes, something like Ebert & Roeper, but geared towards the silly, a Comedy Central show par example. Together we crafted several great ideas for the show like a True Review, an honest review of a movie that pulls no punches. The Short Film Review, to be guest reviewed by Gary Coleman or Vern Troyer, etc., etc. And each week would end with what I like to call the Golden Paxton Award, a tribute to the worst actor in a movie each week named after Bill Paxton. You may say “Captain, he is a fine actor. Why would you name a Rotten Tomato after him?” Well, have you seen Twister? It’s one example of many, but have you seen it? If you have, watch it again. If you haven’t, try. I defy you to return here and tell me he’s good.
Point? I let my pity and my affinity for projects started never to end get the better of me. I pulled out, still not ready to face the world with what I was sure would be another failed venture.
But I am reborn! Like a phoenix bursting forth from the ashes, like John Travolta after The Experts, Like Willie Ames in Charles In Charge, I return. And so my dear friend Potters, in honor of you I now begin the first

TRUE REVIEW: SKI SCHOOL

1991 Technicolor Film.

This is the greatest, yes the GREATEST, B movie ever made. Filled with more jokes than a Pualie Shore movie, more terrible songs than The Gambler, and a performance by Dean Cameron that I believe to be Oscar-worthy.
PLOT: Johnny is a great skier. The problem? No one has ever seen him. He comes to Whistler Mountain to join the cream of the crop, First Section, but is laughed out the room and punished for his brash claims of greatness by being sent to Section 8, the goofballs. Lead by what appears to be a former great skier, Dave Marshak, and followed by Fritz and Ed, this team is set up to fail. Will they triumph? You must watch to find out.

SUBSTANCE: The middle of this story is your typical Animal House rip-off, but filled with pranks and joviality beyond belief. With such quotable lines as “It’s not how far you go, it’s how go you far” and “Welcome to my kingdom! I shall bed you all before the night is done!” and the funniest pranks this side of a Yale frat house circa 1967.

DENOUMENT: Of course the heroes prevail, winning the big race and control of the mountain thanks to former Playboy Playmate Ava Fabian, who buys the mountain and renames it Party Mountain.

If you have never seen this tour-de-farce, run out today and pick it up. To my knowledge it is not available on DVD, but a petition is being started. Do yourself a favor this weekend. Skip going to see The Man, grab your significant other, ‘wave up some Pop Secret, and revel in the brilliance of Ski School.

Happy Birthday Potters! And don’t think I forgot the Golden Paxton! I give it this week to none other than Keanu Reeves in Constantine. I think this guy couldn’t act concerned if someone had a gun pointed at his mother’s head. Saw five minutes of this boiling turd and knew right away who would win.