Sarah, this one’s for you. As such, expect to be quoted. A LOT.
Sarah and I have a history, in that she pushes me to read and/or watch things that she KNOWS is bad, all because she wants to hear my reactions. Usually — I think I’m right in this, but feel free to correct me if I’m wrong — because Sarah and I think the same things about the same things.
I think the first thing she made me read and/or watch was — well, technically, it was The Boondock Saints, but I’m not going to count that because a) of all, I would have ended up watching it on my own, but most importantly b) of all, that movie is fucking fantastic and easily on my Top Ten List. So really, the first thing was Decadent. I believe the —
Uh, hold up. I realize I need to take a momentary digression.
Dear People I Used To Work With Who May Read This Blog But Probably Don’t Follow My Book Blog (Especially the Male Friends): Yeah, I read erotica. Deal with it. Hey, go ahead and read the review – you’ll laugh your fucking ass off. Which, once you read either the next paragraph or that review, you’ll realize that I may have just saved your life.
Oh, and just so we’re clear, Aforementioned Friends and Everyone Else: the ONLY way I will EVER read Fifty Shades of Gray is if Ian Somerhalder is cast as the dude in the movie. That is an iron-clad dealbreaker (heh – iron-clad, BDSM — I get it). I won’t ever read it otherwise, so don’t even try to make me.
ANYWAY. I had just finished reading another book by Shayla Black, and Sarah messaged me, and I believe the conversation went: You HAVE to read Decadent. There’s a line in it, swear to God, that says: “Fucking her ass, saving her life.” And I went, “No WAY is it THAT bad.”
But lo, it was. Thanks, Sarah.
So in the midst of this project known as Movies Alaina’s Never Seen, Sarah and the rest of the H2 crowd have been pinging me with movies I need to watch that aren’t necessarily on Empire’s Top 500 List. (And I’ll be talking about that at a later date.) So forthwith, the conversations between me and Sarah getting me to this point tonight:
Last night, while the Roommate and I were watching Two Guys, a Girl, and an Abortion Clinic –
Sarah: DUDE! HOBO WITH A SHOTGUN! WATCH HOBO WITH A SHOTGUN! I want to read what you write about that film!
Sarah: SERIOUSLY WATCH HOBO WITH A SHOTGUN! PAY ATTENTION TO MY CAPSLOCK!
Alaina: READ MY CAPSLOCK WE’LL WATCH IT TOMORROW We can’t get out of this Romanian film – we need to know how it ends!
Sarah: Dude … once you watch Hobo with a Shotgun, you are going to regret not taking my advice tonight. Just sayin’.
Alaina: Oh, I have plenty of alcohol. I’ll get liquored up right tomorrow.
My sister on Facebook: why … WHY WOULD YOU CONSIDER WATCHING HOBO WITH A SHOTGUN!!?!?!?!?!?! Don’t do it — for your own well-being, I’ve seen the trailer – just walk away!
Alaina: It’s a social experiment. My pain is funny to other people. Sarah is making me. Because of the name. For science!
My sister: well then for the name of sanity, get a bottle of tequila.
Sarah: We’re watching Hobo With a Shotgun again so my roommate’s BF can watch it. I want to hear your reactions!
Alaina: I’m finishing my recap of Great Expectations for the book blog but will be watching it before bed. Promise.
Sarah: Dude. History has thousands of assessments of Great Expectations and none whatsoever of Hobo with a Shotgun.
Sarah: You’re basically Batman right now. The world needs you and your reviews.
Sarah: I’m going to stay up until you’ve finished this movie. I need to hear your thoughts and impulses and rage hahahaha
So I could be incredibly mean and see if Sarah meant that she literally would stay up until I watched the movie and then wait a week, but I love my friends and it’s well-established that I’m a masochist. So I’ve poured myself a Weevil (my name for Pear Vodka and Cranberry Juice, because no, Brad, it’s not a Fogcutter, and since you’re wrong and haven’t named it yet, it falls to me to name it, and I’m naming it after myself and my Veronica Mars counterpart because we are both awesome) and tweeted Sarah to alert her that it’s beginning.
I have NO IDEA what this movie is about, by the way. But I presume it involves a hobo and, possibly, a shotgun?
Sarah: Hobo Drinking game: anytime someone swears, any instance of gratuitous violence, any instance of “WTF?!” dialogue
Sarah: I dare you to play the drinking gane AND not black out
Alaina: Challenge accepted!
Okay … let’s do this.
A bum rolls into town hoping to start over, only to find his adopted city saturated in violence and ruled by a vicious crime lord known as the Drake.
The Drake … like, from Darkwing Duck? Does the Hobo fight a duck? PLEASE LET THE HOBO FIGHT A DUCK
Okay … Sarah, you’re kidding me with this, right? It’s Canadian? From Nova Scotia!? There are too many jokes, not enough time for this, and I’m three seconds in. Do I go the “Canada, you ruined this” route, much like Barney Stinson every time Robin says something particularly Canadian? Or do I reference the New Scotlander Revolutionary front from that episode of Archer? (“IS THAT BABOU?! HE REMEMBERS ME!”)
So Rutger Hauer – which is a name I should be able to place in another, less obscure movie, but can’t for the life of me – is a hobo pushing a shopping cart through apparently the worst neighborhood in all of Nova Scotia. He sees someone break into a person’s car, and guys, what kind of idiot parks their car in Hobo Alley? As he continues to push his cart and mumble about spare change, he comes upon a bumfight.
A BUMFIGHT. BEING VIDEOTAPED BY AN ASSHOLE who wants Rutger Hauer to join in for a measly ten dollars. That’s Canadian dollars, by the way. And all I can think of is: Logan Echolls! How the mighty have fallen! And also, LOOK WHAT I DID THERE I’ve already come full circle with the Veronica Mars reference and I’m only three minutes in. I think that deserves a drink.
AND THEN A GUY COMES OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE WITH A MANHOLE FOR A NECKLACE.
Alaina: How did that idiot get his face stuck in a manhole?! #heheheh #thatswhatshesaid
And then this little guy who’s like the Canadian Joe Pesci in a white suit shows up and puts Manhole Guy in a manhole and apparently Manhole Guy’s name is LOGAN WHAT THE HELL VERONICA MARS and talks some shit about how nobody messes with The Drake, and apparently the Drake is not a duck? Fuck. ANYWAY, they put a barbed wire noose around Logan, and then Drake’s punk nephew Ivan drives off in his truck with the noose attached to it and WHAT THE FUCK THEY JUST RIPPED THE GUY’S HEAD OFF but worst of all this random chick in a white bikini and a fur coat fucking DANCES IN THE RAIN OF BLOOD THAT IS SPEWING FROM LOGAN’S NECKHOLE
Alaina: SARAH WHAT THE FUCK
Apparently Rutger Hauer really wants a lawn mower? Why does he need a lawn mower?! HE DOESN’T HAVE A LAWN
Uh oh – some punkass just spit on Rutger Hauer’s Lawn Mower Sign. Will the Shit start to go down now?
Oh my god that old guy looks like Leonard from Community! I love Leonard! Unlike Jeff, but — HOLY SHIT THEY JUST SMASHED LEONARD’S HEAD IN BETWEEN TWO BUMPER CARS WHAT THE FUCK And then Ivan’s beating up on some kid who reminds me of Fat Neil, also from Community, and this blonde chick comes up and tells Ivan to let it slide.
Ivan: The only thing I’m going to let slide — [extreme dramatic pause]
Alaina: “Is my dick”? He’s going to mention his dick.
Ivan: Is my dick, into your pussy.
Alaina: CALLED IT.
And then Ivan and his other dick brother or whatever puts their sunglasses on in this wicked dark arcade, and then there’s a fucking cocaine orgy.
The blonde chick turns out to be a hooker — of course. And when she and the Ivan brother start making out, it is even more awkward than a Decadent sex scene. And that’s saying something.
The hobo comes out of hiding and tells the Ivan brother to take his filthy paws off her, you damned dirty ape! Ivan-brother says no, Hobo hits him in the head with his Hobo-Cane and says something about writing welfare checks on the Ivan-brother’s skin. Ivan-Brother makes a crack about writing a check to Mother Theresa, at which point the Hobo says:
Sorry — the vodka’s kicking in. *like a See and Say* [Brrrp] The Hobo Says:
“Mother Theresa was a goddamned saint!”
And Alaina laughs her ass off.
OH MY GOD “WELCOME TO FUCKTOWN”!!??!? So the Hobo goes to the police station and tries to talk reason to a cop, and then the cop asks if the Hobo’d been welcomed to their quaint little town, and when the answer was no, the cop stands up, points his gun in the Hobo’s face and screams “Welcome to Fucktown!!” All I can hear is Gob leaning over Stan Sitwell in Arrested Development while trying to sell the idea of a housing development called Fuck City.
“You’re living in Fuck City…” You are indeed, Hobo.
THE PRINCES OF FUCKTOWN?! Well, with the 1980s hair, members only jackets, and the sunglasses at night, they do resemble Prince a tiny bit. And then the Drake sons of bitches STAB THE HOBO AND TOSS HIM IN A DUMPSTER.
And then he goes home with Abby the Hooker and she takes care of him and he heals enough to be able to be back on the street the next day, where he fights in enough bumfights (WHICH INCLUDES EATING GLASS, WHAT THE FUCK) to make enough money to buy the titular shotgun. Wait, is he buying the lawn mower instead? I would assume not, because otherwise the name of the movie would be Hobo With a Lawn Mower, right?
And then, of course, the one pawn shop the Hobo decides to frequent gets robbed.
Do it …. DOOO IT, HOBO! KILL THE GUYS WITH THE LAWN MOWER! I see you looking at it — oh, no, there’s the shotgun. That works too.
So he buys the shotgun, and then goes on a Rampage. But the worst part is that they missed the opportunity for the Hobo to go running through Fucktown yelling RAAAAAAAAAAAMPPAAAAAAAAAAGE!!!!! Also, when the Hobo uses his shotgun, all I can see in my head, for some reason, is the dog from Duck Hunt.
Actual Dialogue: “I’m Slick! No one’s supposed to fuck with me either!”
Alaina: Uhhhhh…. ?
DID THAT DUDE JUST KILL A GUY BY FUCKING TOSSING A HOCKEY SKATE INTO THAT DUDE’S CHEST?! WHAT THE FUCK?! (You know you’re watching a Canadian crime film when a hockey skate is a viable weapon.)
Um, what happened to the cop the Hobo shot? Because it looks like when Judge Doom got rolled over by the steamroller in Who Framed Roger Rabbit – deflated, like the bullet popped him like a balloon?
Oh my god, I’m exhausted, and not even a little bit drunk (because NO, I KNOW I said Challenge Accepted, but I think staying up long enough to actually watch this movie is Challenge Enough).
So now, the Hobo and Abby the Hooker are going to skip town and start a lawn mowing company!? Jesus CHRIST. HOW IS THERE STILL HALF AN HOUR OF THIS LEFT
I mean, look, I watch a lot of shit, okay? I rented One For the Money willingly. But friends of mine: could you please hold off on the Forcing Alaina to Watch Bad Movies for a while? I’ve still got The Empire Strikes Back to tackle.
… and then I fell asleep. I saw Abby and the Hobo take Abby to the hospital, and I saw the Hobo scaring the infants when he was talking about the next generation, and then I think this was the climactic fight and Abby’s almost dead and so is the Drake, and then the Hobo kills the Drake and then the evil townspeople kill the Hobo, and in the background, Abby the Hooker screams “nooooooo!!!” and it sounds like a farm animal squealing in pain, and then this song that sounds like … like if Huey Lewis and the News was a girl band, and CREDITS.
Sarah. You know I love you dearly and would do anything for you. But please, I beg you: give me a break before finding the next Netflix Roulette you want me to watch. I swear, I have the need to watch something extremely intelligent or twisty or thought-provoking. Like, The Prestige or, Chinatown, or maybe Kiss Kiss Bang Bang again.
And in spite of this, I feel that I’m missing a seminal hobo joke. But I’m too tired to find it right now. (I need a lawn mower.)
Grade for Hobo With a Shotgun: WHAT the FUCK was THAT!?