Con Air: A Cinematic Traffic Accident I Can't Ignore

By Ren

I guess humans, as a species, have a predilection to do things that do harm unto themselves. Smoking, drugs, bull riding, and shopping cart jousting are but a few examples of this biological programming.


I bet you thought I was making this shit up.

I, too, suffer from the sucktitude that is our self destructive DNA. Sure, I've done all the shit I listed above, but none of that compares to what I found myself doing a few nights ago. It's something I'm not proud of. It's something a girl would never let her parents discover. Porn? No, dude I wish! I'd be the fucking porn queen of the Pacific Northwest! But, only the classy shit. None of that cable guy coming by to tighten my connection bullshit. Movies with real plot and soul. Movies that explore the depths of the characters' being before the 30 minute long fuckapalooza. My porn would be so good, it would go mainstream. 100 years from now, the Academy will still be talking about that Irish porn star who won every Oscar that record setting night. Somehow, I would have gotten the award for best foreign film. It doesn't matter how! Point is my shit would sweep the Academy awards and, probably, the Emmys.

Finally a bigger whore than Sean Penn will win an Oscar.

Where the fuck was I going with this? Oh yea. I found myself doing something the other night I wasn't proud of. There I was, on the couch, in the dark... watching Con Air. I'm sorry Mom and Pop! Your little girl is ashamed. Despite all you taught her as a child, she still lost her way and drifted into the shameful life of watching a movie with Nicholas Cage, John Malkovich, John Cusack, Ving Rhames, Steve Buscemi, Chief O'Brien from Next Gen/DS9, and Danny Trejo. Danny motherfucking Trejo!

Otherwise known as the MexiCAN from Once Upon a Time in Mexico.

I was channel surfing around 2 in the morning. Going through the channel guide aimlessly, I saw that Con Air was being played AGAIN. For reasons unknown, one of the premium movie channels has had a Con Air hard on for a month. The bastard is on no less than twice a day. I joke about it. I make fun of it when I notice it's on. But, before I knew it, I was pressing "ENTER" on the remote to watch it.

Above: Immediate access to damnation.

I figured I would just watch it while I continued to scroll through the program guide. Scroll, scroll, scroll... holy monkey fuck! There's nothing on! It's been so long since I've seen this movie. Hey, the entire first act is complete shit. Why am I watching a movie as lifeless as the eyes of a bored stripper?

So, Nick Cage was put in prison for defending himself and his wife? Harsh.

I forgot that, in order to get to the more important story lines, Jerry Bruckheimer raced through the entire set up. One minute Cage is wearing an Army uniform , sporting a receding hairline with short hair. The next minute he's wearing a wife beater, sporting a receding hairline with long hair.

I'm going to let the whole muddled, ear rape of a Southern accent thing Cage has going on pass. It was as annoying as sand in your ass crack, but if Keanu Reeves got away with his shit-tasticly horrific "British" accent in Bram Stoker's Dracula, Cage can slide on this one.

"Like, cheerio and pip pip. Whoa, I know Kung Fu."

I was trapped in a cinematic mind grip. I couldn't change the channel. Dave Chappelle? Oh yea, I forgot he was in this... for ten minutes. Damn. Why can't I be watching Chappelle's Show now?

With a case of Samuel Jackson.

I can't tell you exactly why I was stuck in the Con Air tractor beam. It's like a traffic accident, except you rubber-neck for an hour and a half. Maybe it's more like 2 Girls 1 Cup. The whole thing is bile swallowing terrible, but you can't stop watching it. And you can't help but make others watch it with you.

The love story sub plot between these two was the visual equivalent of eating your own shit.

Part of the magic of movies is to make you care about the characters. We want Sherlock Holmes to foil the dastardly plot while managing his own batshit crazy personality. For the first time in my relatively short history as a human being, I cared about Will Ferrell. OK, that's exaggerating a bit. I cared for Harold Crick in Stranger Than Fiction. When I watched Patriot Games I felt for the characters, deeply. OK, I sympathized with the IRA in the movie. Does it matter? The point is that I was under the movie's spell to feel for these people. Does the movie magic work for Con Air? Magic 8 Ball, guide us in our quest for truth.

I don't give a three year old yak shit about anyone in this movie. I'm not emotionally invested in this heaping pile of angry stereotypes. Well, maybe the plane. That poor thing didn't as for this. It didn't ask to be the sound stage of a movie only drunk people at 2 in the morning watch. What? Yeah, I was drunk too. You gotta issue with that? I was drunk and on the couch watching Con Air in my undies. You have a fucking problem with that?

I didn't think so.

Back to the point, I felt sorry for the plane. It sat there while cinematic gems, like these, were vomited out in front of the camera.



Run this segment at random. Go ahead. Fast forward, hit play, whatever. The fucker is 10 minutes long. I guarantee that each and every word the actors spat at each other caused rivets to pop from the plane. By the end, if you look closely, the C-123 was praying for death. Each time Ving pushed out a monotone "Grrrrr grumble grumble" the plane would cut its proverbial wrists just a little deeper. Shit, not to mention all the paint peeling body odor and, what would later be know as, the leaky bean farts of 97. I'm so sorry plane.

That'll do plane. That'll do.

Then, for some reason known only to the functionally retarded kid making script changes, the characters of DEA agent Duncan Malloy has a unprovoked, misplaced, tacked on loathing for US Marshal Vince Larkin. There's no rhyme or reason for it. As soon as they meet, Chief O'Brein starts giving shitting all over Martin Q. Blank from Grosse Pointe Blank. Why? Did Larkin sleep with Malloy's wife? Are they childhood chums gone bad? Someone tell us that there is more to this dynamic than random chest beating cock waving!

Nope. There's nothing deeper.

And then there's the whole bunny scene. I'm not sure if it was supposed to be funny or ironic. Maybe it was supposed to break up the colon clenching action. No, I'm pretty sure some fucker just tacked it on as a joke and no one noticed until the screening. I'm also pretty positive that killing people over a child's toy is common place during the holiday shopping season.


Still, somehow Cage manages to take this "funny" scene and give it the Hershey squirts.

Oh, come the fuck on! Really?

At this point in the movie, I was pretty pissed at myself for watching it. What the fuck is wrong with me? Jumping Irish Jesus now Cage is under a truck talking to himself? Exactly how the fuck did a dozen or so prisoners pull a full sized C-123 out of the sand? Does being shirtless help?

Prison must have one hell of a weight lifting program. That's what you want; convicted murderers, arsonists, and rapists getting buff.

Oh, yeah. Then Cage does the whole "I'm running from an explosion and flip through the air in a way that gives physics the finger" thing.

Because, as we all learned in school, fire is slow and can be easily outrun.

Somewhere between when Chief O'Brein's car being destroyed and the mid-air fire fight, I just accepted it. I was watching Con Air. It's too late now. I can't turn the channel, I have too much invested in it. I have to see it through. I have to see every last fudge sacking second, now. Besides, this movie makes menstrual cramps feel awesome in comparison.

Ouch, my uterus! This is STILL better than watching Con Air.

Yippie! The plane crashed and people die. Someone or another gets cut in half by an engine prop blade, someone else, I don't know, gets killed in some way. I guess the lamest part was when Nick Cage and John CuSACK jump on police motorcycles and give each other a "let's get 'em" look.


Awwww. They even finish each other's sentences.

So, in the end, the bad guys are punished, destroying the Las Vegas strip is completely OK, and Nick Cage gives his on screen daughter a soggy, dirty stuffed bunny. Way to go, Poe. You gave the daughter you've never met typhoid.

Something like this, but soggy and with the faint scent of prisoner urine and man on man rape.

I blame myself. I was drunk enough to get trapped into watching this movie, but not drunk enough to forget about it. At least it wasn't Short Circuit 2 this time.

I may have only been 3 when this was released, but even then I knew this movie sucked copious amounts of sweaty dick.

Jeremy Piven: Give Momma Back Her Droz

By Ren

Jesus. This is like the third week in a row I've been the author of a FWTC article. Is it because I am just that damn good? Or is it because the other three columnists are lazy fucknuts hazing the new kid? Guess which one I think.

Something like this, except no where near as hot. Suddenly I'm all tingly.

I've noticed that Jeremy Piven is all the rage these days. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy. He was an absolute genius in PCU! I love that friggin movie almost to a fault. Alright, I was 10 when it came out. But, it made me laugh then and it makes me laugh now. What red blooded American college student didn't want to be Piven's character, Droz? Shit, I know a couple of real life Drozs who wore the fact that they had three sophomore years like a badge of honor. No, like a FUCKING badge of honor. I could never get it right. I kept passing my courses and wanting to get the fuck of out Dodge. The rampant keggers, sorority tickle fightes, casual sex, and occasional coke parties got in the way of my Droz emulation. Although, I did share certain traits with my film college hero.

I didn't get as close to this as I would have liked.

Instead, this was the crowd I fell into. A shame, isn't it?

Shit, now all I can think of is sorority girls in tight little tops and ridiculously short skirts. Where was I?

Was it about this? Hot blondes in football jerseys in the snap position?

Or...

... maybe it was a bunch of sorority girls in nighties?


Shiz, that's right! Jeremy Piven. Damn my wandering, perverted, sex obsessed mind!

No one rocks a plain green tee like Droz.. NO ONE!

I'm sorry. I digressed the proverbial shit-ton. Piven was the Superman of understated funny. Even his cameo in Singles stole the show. I remember being all like "Holy shit! That's the dude from PCU!" Then, just as quickly as he came his bit part faded away like the career of Hootie and the Blowfish.

Absolutely goes ape shit when he hears Elvis Costello and Public Enemy mixed together.

The dude was hilarious. Yeah, he tended to play the same character: PCU-> Singles-> Judgment Night (got his ass thrown off a roof, though... which was a new direction for him). But, it worked. The sarcasm, the dry wit, the male pattern baldness. It all worked. Here's another formula for you:

Jeremy Piven + Christian Slater + hooker bludgeoning x multiple murders = Very Bad Things

______________________________________________________

Pants pissingly funny!

Then, something happened. All of a sudden he's on Ellen. Unfortunately, I don't mean he was boning Ellen Pompeo from Grey's Anatomy.

I'd tap that ass.

No. I mean this Ellen.

We see you!

Then Smokin' Aces came out. We were all the victims of TV commercial fraud. It looked like it could be an American version of Snatch. Oh, why wasn't it an American Version of Snatch? Instead, it was a heaping turd of a movie that left you with that "Why the fuck did I spend money on this instead of porn" look on your face. It was bad. This isn't just personal opinion. The iron clad Internet proof (contradiction in terms?) can bee seen on Rotten Tomatoes where it has all the freshness of a decomposing corpse. What's the general consensus of the learned reviewers about this used tampon of a movie?

Consensus: A violent mess of a movie, Smokin' Aces has some Quentin Tarantino's style but not much of his wit or humor.

Translation: Ben Afflect can turn any movie into a cinematic Kristallnacht.

What else needs to be said about such a motion picture abortion whose prequel is going straight to DVD?

It hurts.

So what? Piven had ample help from a cast of cooche napkins to torpedo this movie. It's more than that. I've noticed a trend. I'm sure you have too. What's different about Piven these days? Other than the fact that he lost the funny. But, why?

That's it! It's the hair! It's the fucking hair!

In a reverse Samson and Delliah, Piven's power weakens with the "growth" of hair. I'm guessing his funny strength is solar powered via storage cells in his scalp. The more hair he... um... grows, the less fuel his funny battery receives.

Hurry! Someone pull the rug off! Quick!

There's more. Much more. Piven has gotten buff. Hey, I get just as wet as the next girl for a hard bodied hunk with a six pack (of Guinness), but, there's something so... off about it. It looks forced. He was never a fat load, but he wasn't Carrot Top jacked either. Look, all I'm saying if you're going to pose for a Men's Fitness cover with a cocky "I went from not to hot" smirk, some things have to be sacrificed.

*Sigh* I miss Droz.

For instance, sometimes in order to sport a new... well new hair... and hire a personal trainer funny gets replaced with douchy. Somewhere along the line he lost his roots. I'm not saying I don't like him now. I just liked the old Jeremy Piven a lot more. You know, the funny one. Ever since Entourage Piven has buried Droz deeper and deeper in designer hair piece hell. He's become Ari Gold. I fucking hate Ari Gold. I'm sorry, I know there are kajillions of Entourage fans out there, but I just can't get into it. I've had law classes that were more entertaining. Sue me. It's television aids.

I don't know if we'll ever see Droz again. I hope. I pray. Just one more time. I miss him. We all miss him. That's Okay. I'll keep the fire burning, the champagne chilled, and my edible panties warmed up for you, Droz, in case you ever come back to me.

I wonder if he ever hears Droz screaming from the inside.

Oh, what the hell. One more pic of hotties I'd totally give a tongue bath to:

Action Heros: More Killing, Less Chick Flick and Comedy BS

By Tresckow

They say first impressions are ever lasting. The first time we see a kick ass, no nonsense, kill the bad guy, and save the world/empire/children/universe uber hero it leaves a fist print in our simple brains. We want to cheer. Men leave the theater juiced up and ready to get into drunken brawls, just because the movie's hero tripled the amount of testosterone in our systems. Put simply, men get a violence boner from movies like Commando, Die Hard, and Blood Sport. We love the stars. OK, some don't have a strong grasp on the English language. And it's a sure bet few of them will be called to perform in Hamlet. But, man, we don't care. They are just plain, unadulterated AWESOME!

Hey, yo. Alas poor ... uh... Mick. I knews him good.

But, what if after churning out a bunch of testosterone filled action flicks, the action hero we've looked up to so faithfully pulls a fast one on us? The first few times we see him it's in ninety minutes of blood soaked explosion filled goodness. But the rules change. Whether it's due to the need to show "range" or simply to be able to pay for their weekly hookers, a few action stars stab us loyal fans in the eyeball and do the unthinkable. They star in a scrotum shriveling comedy or (worse yet) a sappy, vomit educing, ovarian swelling chick flick. From experience, we know it feels like getting punched in the nuts.

This is pretty much what "Love Actually" felt like.

What follows is a short list of action stars that have ball tagged us with romantic or goofy comedic bullshit. Men we would rather see cutting a bloody swath through the bulk of their movies and sticking heads on pikes. Thought out plots and emotional subtexts are for wimps.

1. Vin Diesel
I think it's safe to assume that the first time most of us were introduced to Vin Diesel was in Saving Private Ryan. No, his part wasn't super bad ass, but he had a gun and killed Nazis. That's pretty much every young boy's dream. Isn't it? Wow. Awkward.....

Vin (not short for Vehicle Identification Number) started popping up in low plot, high action movies like Pitch Black and The Chronicles of Riddick. Neither had a story line that made a ton of sense, but Diesel managed to pile up the bodies and use the same gruff tone of voice in every scene. That's really all we ask for. Then he moved onto The Fast and the Furious. It had something to do with cars or thievery, or algae.. shit, I don't know. But, there were a ton of fist fights, explosions and gunfire. XXX gave us, the U.S. action movie aficionado a poor man's James Bond. Again, not a bit of believable or plausible plot, but lots of things went boom. And there were lots of barely clothed women. That always counts for something.

Bikinis + Girls = Riveting cinema.

His Crime: The Pacifier
What the fuck happened here? Someone took our monotone senseless killing machine and put him in a shit eating Disney movie. We went from Riddick, slaughterer of eyeless flying monsters to diaper changing wuss pansy. One minute he's racing cars and punching the shit out of pseudo Russian mobsters. The next, he's chasing around rugrats with goofy comedic music in the background. We call that role castration.

Even that kid is wondering, "What the fuck?"

Nut Punch Factor- 1 to 5: 3
It hurts. It hurts soo much to see this girly man metamorphoses. The fact that he did this on his own accord, without being blackmailed with nude photos of him sodomizing a midget, makes it sting even more; like a scalding hot cup of coffee poured unceremoniously in our lap.

We'll let you come up with the rest of that mental image yourself.

Chances of Recovery: Good
He hasn't done another Disney movie since and, to our knowledge, he's never done a chick flick. In fact, he somehow managed to squeeze another Fast and Furious installment into the franchise. I think we're willing to give him another chance. But, that diaper shit smell doesn't wash off so easily. He could fall plunge into the depths of straight to DVD releases if he's not careful. Right, Jean-Claude Van Damme?


2: Hugh Jackman
This man needs no filmography recap. He's fucking Wolverine! If we formed an international committee to define all the qualities an actor needs to possess to play our favorite feral, claw wielding maniac, Jackman would be at the top of the list in gigantic bold letters. Shit, he's perfect. True, he's taller than the actual character. But, come on, how many action stars out there can take and give spectacular beatings on screen and be just 5 feet 4 inches? Only fat pant loads who still live in their mother's basement will obsess over this and every other friggin detail that didn't make the transition from the comic to the film series. The rest of us are fine with the discrepancies. Oh yea, and we get laid.

Yes, he had some sort of film career in Australia. Who really gives two shits? It's Australia. I defy you to name five movies he was in at that point in his career. Now do it without checking out Google. HA! You can't do it! That's what I thought. Fucking Australia. It was a prison colony, you know.

His Crimes: Kate & Leopold, Someone Like You, that bullshit he pulled at the Academy Awards.

It wasn't Sabertooth or Magneto that killed Wolverine. It was Hugh Jackman. I don't know what passes as good action cinema in Australia, but here in the good 'ol US of A we want our action stars killing, maiming, and growling incoherently. Watching Hugh tear through his enemies with Wolverine's claws in the X-Men franchise makes us feel warm and fuzzy inside. But, oh no; he had to fucking ruin it with a romantic comedy almost right out of the gate. Why, Hugh, why? Ovaries across America buzzed as he filled the big screen with the brain hemorrhage that is Kate & Leopold. There shouldn't be a soft side to an action star. Kill, mother fucker, kill! My God, man, you can't go from spine crushing action to a fucking romance flick with Ashley Judd! It both confuses and enrages us. Especially now that he's staring in the remake of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical Carousel in 2010. Why don't you just do a pirouette on our testicles?

Do you know how hard it is to find a picture of someone doing a pirouette on another man's balls?

The worst offense to the action hero community was, WITHOUT A SHADOW OF A DOUBT, that eye cancer at the 2008 Academy Awards. A part of us died inside that night. Hardcore action fans everywhere asked "Why is Wolverine singing and dancing?" It floods our nightmares to this day. The tuxedo, the prancing, the sheer horror of seeing him use jazz hands. It's our Vietnam, man.

Your prancing and singing raped many an action fan's eyes and soul.

Nut Punch Factor- 1 to 5: 4.5

I still haven't seen X-Men Origins: Wolverine yet. Jackman has traumatized me too much. The possibility of Wolverine breaking out into dance and song during a fight scene is just too great. Seeing the man who portrayed a comic icon strutting on stage and twirling around like a show tune singing ballerina puts a little extra umf in the punch.

Yeah, something like that.

Chances of Recovery: Good
Despite the atrocities Jackman has committed, the action fans will still flock to his movies. True, Van Helsing was on the retarded side, but Kate Beckinsale's eye candy factor made it acceptable. He's just too good of a Wolverine to miss. Still, the twirling..... the twirling.... the horror.


3: Gerard Butler
Gerard Butler must have had some movie roles before the face punching awesomeness that is 300. A quick look on Wikipedia confirms this. But, who cares? Anything that he did before 300 really doesn't count. His status of brutal action hero was forged against a blue screen with a fuck load of Persians added in post production. He OWNED, the portrayal of Spartan King, Leonidas. He yelled at the top of his lungs, chucked people down a well, impaled soldier after soldier, and chopped off more heads than the French Revolution. He could not be stopped! And, as if he needed to further prove his raw manliness, he rocked Lena Heady's world before he went out to certain death. He bitch slapped the politicians and gave Xeres a migraine the size of The Persian Empire. In short, he had balls the size of hot air balloons.

For our sake, we'll ignore the homoerotic subtext that some say the film exuded. A bunch of shirtless men wearing banana hammocks is a disturbing thought. to many That shit keeps me off the beach (as well as my utter hatred for sand, sun, and people). But, give them spears, swords, shields, and an unquenchable thirst for blood, we can let it go. OK? Let that shit go NOW! No one was rubbing suntan lotion on his compatriot. There weren't any deeply soulful discussions about Sex in the City. And, for fuck's sake, there was no mincing or prancing (see Hugh Jackman, above). Even if every soldier of the 300 were gay, big fucking deal. It's not about a person's sexual orientation. It's about how many people they can slaughter in the span of five minutes.

His Crimes: PS, I Love You, The Ugly Truth
This is where the other shoe drops.... right on our throats. Most of us have cable. Most of us flip around during the commercials on TNA Impact, UFC, or some other manly show that makes men everywhere want to run through a brick wall and wrestle a Kodiak bear. A casual pass by shows one of the movie channels that's having a love-a-thon. It's showing the heart wrenching chick flick, PS, I Love You. Eh, that makes you no nevermind. Cable is like a mine field; the ground is strewn with chick flick mines that will blow your balls off, if you're not careful. You're about to keep channel surfing, but something is odd. That guy, the dead one that for some reason took the precaution of writing letters to his wife before he died or some shit. The voice over. The flash backs. Shit, that actor looks familiar. No. NO! I can't be. FUCK! That's Gerard Butler!

One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just doesn't belong....

In that one, theatrical kidney stone moment our testicles wept. What you thought was ball sweat was actually tears of everlasting despair. It was like finding out the Marlboro Man was a cross dressing hooker or James Dean spent his nights crocheting. Leonidas was no more. He was truly dead. Ovaries killed him. The million man army of Xeres may have felled him, but Hollywood pissed on his corpse.

Nut Punch Factor 1 to 5: 4
The pain won't go away just because Butler is a kick ass action hero. He was in Reign of Fire, perhaps the only manly movie about dragons ever produced. But, his involvement in movies about feelings and love will forever leave a bitter taste in the mouths of we action hero fanatics. I'm not talking a slight aftertaste like you would have after a Chinese meal. This is a full force mouthful of cow shit and okra taste. Go on. Keep brushing your teeth and rinsing. It's never going to go away. NEVER!

Completely useless.

Chances of Recovery: Fair
Butler is staring in the soon to be released movie, Gamer. It's another thin on plausible plot, but lots of shit blows up action movie. That has a fair chance of helping us forget, or at least repress, his chick flick malevolence. But, in true Rochambeau fashion, the gonad withering movie The Ugly Truth comes out two months before Gamer. It's like following a Mike Tyson caliber punch to the kidneys with with a York Peppermint Patty.

This makes up for causing us to piss blood. No, really.

4: Arnold Schwarzenegger
If you have to ask who Arnold Schwarzenegger is or what movies he has done, I want you to hit yourself in the stomach as hard as possible. Seriously. I'll wait.

What can we say? Arnold has been THE action hero and occasional villain for over 20 years. He practically defined the damn genre single handedly. He IS action. For the love of Billy Mays, the man can kick the shit out of a the entire ancient Mongolian army and make it call him "daddy." Arnold could have won both World Wars simultaneously, with enough time to put the finishing touches on his walk in humidor; which also doubles as the world's most extensive gun cabinet and nuclear bunker. Why do you think Bigfoot hides in the forrest like a pussy? He's afraid. Schwarzenegger could beat him over the head with his own ass.

"Fuck! Don't tell the Terminator I'm here!"

Let's see, the Austrian juggernaut is responsible for larynx stomping hits like: The Terminator, Conan the Barbarian, Commando, Predator, The Running Man, Total Recall Terminator 2 Judgment Day, and Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines. These are movies that defined a generation and made us wonder if Nazi Germany was further along on the whole master race thing than we thought. He was even in Terminator Salvation. Do you understand? The movie essentially centers around the development of the terminator Schwarzenegger defined!

"I'm back, bitches."

And, let's not forget that his action packed, logically challenged movie, True Lies helped launch the career of someone near and dear to my heart. Someone whose on screen talent captivates and enthralls you. No, not Tom Arnold, jackass.

So, at what point did you think I wasn't going to bring up Eliza Dushku?

Shit! This guy can do no wrong. Sure, he's had some flops like Red Heat. But, what do you expect when someone teams up with Jim Belushi? It gets ugly from here. Even Arnold has kicked us between the uprights.

His Crimes: Twins, Kindergarten Cop, Junior, Jingle All the Way
Not even Arnold is exempt from this shit list. Notice two of the movies above co-starred Danny DeVito. Detecting a trend? Don't get me wrong, DeVito was great in Taxi and.... something else, I guess. But, I think it's fair to put 50% of this shit sandwich squarely on his shoulders.

That's right. Laugh it up you son of a bitch.

What the hell happened? Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to take the biggest action star of ALL MOTHER FUCKING TIME and knock him up? I want to know. What shit stomper thought this was a great idea? Who in their right mind wanted to tear down the wall of triumph Arnold built brick by brick? Oh, yea. Ivan Reitman. His sin is even greater than DeVito's. He directed three quarters of the movies on this shit list.

Picture: Mythos killer

Nut Punch Factor 1 to 5: 3
Arnold comes in at a solid three. He has a great pedigree of skull shattering movies. No one can dispute that. But, for every three or four pancreas grabbing action flicks, there was at least one half assed romantic comedy. It's equivalent to every third Hershey's Kiss in the bag being a wrapped up rat turd.

Delicious treat? Or, a lump of rodent shit? Only one way to find out.

Chances of Recovery: Excellent
The action flick fan will forever forgive Arnold. His action to lame comedic/romance movie ratio is, simply put, amazing. How can't we forgive him? It's just not possible. He's Arnold. He's the fucking cornerstone of all things action. Not to mention he is THE wellspring for history making one liners that would have made anyone else look and sound like a complete asshat. The Vatican is thinking about adding him to the Bible [citation needed].

5: Dwayne Johnson (Formerly, The Rock)
It's hard to want to defend someone who knowingly ditched a he- man studded nickname like "The Rock" in favor of his given name, "Dwayne." Luckily, Dwayne has a pretty good list of neck snappingly good action movies under his belt.

This man does action well. We like to watch him fight for justice while Rock Bottoming someone's ass through a pool table. He's funny, articulate, and can beat the hell out of bad guys with a two by four like nobody's business. We root for him to win in the most violent way possible.

The Rock/Dwayne outgrew the WWE. His magnificent kickassery couldn't be contained in the wrestling ring. He moved on to adrenaline pumping movies like Walking Tall, The Rundown, and The Scorpion King. Shit blew up. People were thrown through plate glass windows. Did I mention that he beat the shit out of bad guys with a two by four? I did? Well, it's important, damn it.

Then, it all went wrong around 2007/2008. So terribly, terribly wrong.

His Crimes: Get Smart, Race to Witch Mountain, The Game Plan, assorted Nickelodeon bullshit

Did I miss something? When did Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson become such a pantywaist? He's turned into a kids movie bitch. What's the deal? Is there more money in family friendly films? Does he owe satan? Is their incriminating evidence of him being held over his head?

Does it involve a fat lady eating cake? It involves a fat lady eating cake, doesn't it?

It seems that I can't swing a dead iguana without hitting another shit spewing kid friendly movie with Dwayne. Oh look, he has a long lost daughter he never knew existed who is about to change his life forever! No, wait, he just got swept up into extraterrestrial events with two seemingly human kids who are about to change his life forever! Stop the bus, he's a double agent who underestimates that dipshit Steve Carell..... who changes his life forever. Fuck, all of that sounds like a shit storm of extra chunky.

Nut Punch Factor 1 to 5: 5
The Rock used to be a professional wrestling world champion for fuck's sake! His transition to super duper action star made a shit ton of sense. His plummet into child comedy movie hell hurts every die hard action fan's essense. It happend before our very eyes. One day, he was blowing the shit out a South American gang to free its strangle hold on a poor, yet pathetic village. The next he's playing with dolls and having a tea party with a 5 year old. This isn't just a punch in the balls, it's a complete and savage nut demolishion!

Chances of Recovery: Poor to fair
A look at Johnson's entry at IMDB basically tells it all. In 2010, he's going to star in the epic sissy kids movie Tooth Fairy. The plot? Let Wikipedia tell you. I sure as shit don't have the strength.

When a pro hockey player (Johnson), nicknamed the Tooth Fairy for his ability to knock out other players' teeth, dashes the hopes of his girlfriend's daughter, he is ordered to serve two week's hard labor as one of the real Tooth Fairies.

There you have it. Tooth Faries. Yep. Mother fucking Tooth Fairies.