Jennifer Lawrence in a female spy flick, looking like it’s doing the Black Widow movie before Marvel did like a Black Widow movie. I’m fucking in, dude.

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To note that Episode IX‘s production has been “slightly tumultuous” is akin to saying my post-pizza and Chez-It farts are “slightly nauseating”, to say the least. I mean good god, the movie is currently on its fourth fucking script. However, this news makes sense to me. The first script featured Leia, and was diarrhea’d out by Jurassic World Guy and his writing partner. The second was their stab at a script without her in it. The third, Sweet Christ the third, was a punch-up done by Jack Thorne.

With Abrams and his bland middling mediocrity coming aboard, and I’m being serious here, it makes sense to start with a fresh slate. Whatever existed before seems like a real fucking Frankenstein’s monster, and it is best to put it out to pasture.

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Bruce Straley has left Naughty Dog, but his presence has been felt, and will be felt in the company’s products for years. Not only was he the co-director of The Last of Us, but he also co-directed the fourth Uncharted game. It’s an understandable, yet bittersweet loss for the company. The sorts of games Straley directed were fuckin’ developmental grinds, so it’s hard to fault him for leaving. I ain’t gonna get too bereft about this shit, though. The future of Naughty Dog still feels bright. Not only is Straley’s longtime creative partner, Neil Druckmann remaining at the company, but the writing team behind Lost Legacy proved their own bonafides.

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Not a clever headline, but I’m fucking tired. I know, I know. My headlines ain’t ever clever, anyways. But, hey. Have a couple official looks of David Harbour as Hellboy.

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Lots of Episode IX news lately. Jurassic World guy was fired. J.J. Abrams was brought in to both write *and* direct. Now, the aforementioned film has been delayed six months. This makes sense since, you know, I imagine Abrams is starting from scratch on the script. I don’t really have a problem with this, despite my horrid moaning about Abrams taking over. Frankly, I don’t want any of Jurassic World guy’s script. Not only that, though, but I enjoy Star Wars movies as a Christmas treat.

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There are certainly worse choices than J.J. Abrams to direct Episode IX. Lucasfilm just fired one. But, man. I can’t help but feel uninspired by this choice, especially when I was quietly hoping for Rian Johnson to return. Abrams wrote and directed Episode VII, which was an enjoyable, incredibly dumb affair. Great characters, hilariously stupid plot. Oh well. At least us Star Wars losers will have competence, as Lucasfilm continues to make safe choice after safe choice. I’m sure I’ll enjoy the movie, while worrying about Lucasfilm’s reticence to do anything too risky and interesting.

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“Y’gotta jam the apple in his mouth before y’roast him!”

“Stuff that!”

“Zackkly, y’gotta stuff it right in and then y’can roast the fucker on a spit real goo-”

“Nah, man, stuff that as in fuck that. We put an apple in that pig’s mouth and then tryta roast him on a spit, whattaya thinks gonna happen?”

“I don’t thinks nothing’s gonna happen, I knows what’s gonna happen! All that’s gonna happen is we’re gonna have us some good-goddamn-delicious barbecue, and its smoky-goodness is gonna have a hint of apple!”

“You fuckin’ moron! Lookit his fuckin’ mouth — it’s too fuckin’ small! Stick an apple in there and then spin him around and around? It’s gonna fuckin’ fall out! We kill this pig, we roast him up real good, and then we jam the apple in his mouth as a garnish!”

Clint, despite every instinct-bone in his body aching, had to admit that his brother had a point. Which really sucked, because Clint had been building up this moment in his mind for months, visualizing how it’d go down. And no matter what changed in his mind — the guilty parties present, the setting, the time of day — one thing always remained the same.

The Senator would be roasted on a spit, naked save for his tie and socks and the flag lapel stabbed into his tit, and he’d unable to scream because of the apple jammed into his mouth.

But if Clint’d learned anything since joining a gang of jenkem-huffing bipartisan cannibals, it was that sometimes you just had to temper your expectations.

“Awh, aight Brucie, you makes a good point! But I still thinks we should wait until the apple’s in his mouth before we post to Facebook!”

“Of course, Clint. Of course.”

—-

This is the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE!

I’ve just foisted some drivel-fiction nonsense upon you. Thanks for putting up with me. Oh, who am I? I’m Rendar Frankenstein — hack writer, amateur sociologist, and pop culture enthusiast.

So, here’s the deal: I’m going to show you some of the stuff I’ll be consuming in the hopes of staving off workweek-ennui. Then, you hit up the comments and show off what you’ll be consuming! And then we all share!

Really, it’s sort of like a pop culture/entertainment-suggestion potluck.

But totally, totally cooler!

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I didn’t particularly like It. Thought it was okay (at best). Like, certified fresh, but certified fresh grading out at a C- or some shit. Even with that said though, I can’t help but be happy that it’s so goddamn successful. Nice win for horror movies (even if this shit wasn’t scary, but more like laughably goofy), and Mr. King.

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Two fucking monstrosities are going to monetary war over the rights to Bond 25. You don’t get much more enormous than Amazon, but christ Apple probably is. These two beefy bitches are slinging around dough, with the distribution rights worth somewhere between $2 and $5 fucking billion.

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Here’s a new Blade Runner 2049 TV spot, which underscores one of the very few things we know about the movie. Old Man Deckard’s ass is being hunted.

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