Sweet (less) Release

I sincerely hope that one day people will look back on the recent writer's strike and realize how ridiculous everyone was. Christ almighty, these last three months made me feel as if I'd been whisked away by some magical force, back in time, to when Americans felt fear and anger at the ongoing Iranian hostage crisis. Was Ted Koppel opening the evening news with "day 46 of the writer's strike" or was that just my imagination? I mean, how can we possibly function as a society when new episodes of LOST and Ugly Betty are in doubt?!?! Between the strike, the blowhards in Hollywood supporting their "brothers in arms" like wounded veterans, and the front page crotch-shots from Brittney, you begin to see how we're able to piss off so many people around the world.

Anyway, two weeks ago a deal was reached and a national crisis was averted; writers left picket lines and went back to work, production began on new episodes and movies, and once again children were able to smile. It all culminated tonight with the airing of the Oscars (oh boy). As the lords and ladies of pretend played dress up, patting each other on the back and awarding eachother with painted phallic symbols, two thoughts ran through my mind:

1. What the hell actually happened here? - Par for the course, most people knew about the strike, worried about it, and didn't have a damn clue what it was actually about. The short version is that the writers guild wanted double in residuals, increased jurisdiction, and compensation for streaming and downloadable online entertainment. Claiming they would take nothing short of a full victory, the writers hoped to put the squeeze on production companies such as CBS and Paramount Pictures with no new content to push on advertisers. These corporations began slowly airing already taped shows, added new reality programs to the mix (including the long overdue return of American Gladiator, which is deserving of its own post), and used the strike as an opportunity to cut the dead weight of failed shows and restructure their businesses. As the insanely rich weathered the storm, viewership dropped marginally as writers began to feel the weight of lost finances. Resolve began to waiver, voices of dissent rose from within (in a union where membership is forced, what a surprise), and in the end they settled for a 50/50 compromise.

So what actually happened here? The way I see it, the writers lost three months of pay because they thought they could win a game of chicken with a bunch of corporate heads who made their millions by being shrewd business men. The writers swerved first, settled for what they were essentially offered from the start, and now we're supposed to applaud.2. Oh the Irony - While everyone got all worked up about Hollywood shutting down, an amazing thing happened: I found myself in the middle of the best 12 month movie stretch that I've EVER seen. Now I'll grant you the obvious, that all these movies were completed long before the strike ever came to be, but that doesn't take away from the fact that while the writers hoped for consumer outrage, studios were unleashing an impressive group of quality movies.

In fact, it was in the midst of the strike that, for the first time in my life, there were three movies out that I legitimately wanted to see in theaters. It all started this past summer when the latest installment of Harry Potter, Spiderman 3 and Transformers came out within a 30 day period (headlined by 'Potter' for me, they ranged from excellent to pretty good). Since then, there's been:

No Country For Old Men (by far my favorite movie of the year)
I Am Legend (very excited to see)
Cloverfield (groundbreaking and suspenseful)
Juno (great movie that wasn't on my radar)
Eastern Promises (ditto)
American Gangster (not quite as powerful as Eastern Promises, but still a very good mob film)
3:10 To Yuma (best western in a long time)

Amazingly, each one was at worst a solid B+. This doesn't even cover the fact that there was an interesting re-release that I missed out on (Blade Runner) and four other movies that I'm still looking forward to seeing sometime soon (There Will Be Blood, Golden Compass, 10,000 B.C., Gone Baby Gone). Lastly, I'm drooling in anticipation of two more movies that will round out this great 12 month period: Indiana Jones IV (which will officially decide, according to Phil, the debate over which complete George Lucas series was the best) and the Dark Knight, a movie I'm positively giddy to see.

So as far as I'm concerned, I hope another strike happens next year if I can expect a block of movies like this. Let the good time roll!

Eggs Benedict on your Face

Dear Eagles fans who inexplicably rooted for the Giants in the Super Bowl,

Are you happy now?

Never before have I felt more betrayed as an Eagles fan as I did the last two weeks. The pricks from up the pike hoisted the Lombardi this weekend, culminating with a ticker-tape parade down Broadway to the cheers of thousands of blue bloods, and after desperately trying to come to grips with an utterly lost football season, all I have left is one question: are you fucking happy now?

Super Bowl XLII will be remembered as one of the biggest upsets in not only football history, but in all of sports, right up there with the 1980 US Hockey Team, the UNLV/Duke game, Joe Namath's prediction, and the 2004 ALCS. It was one of the most riveting football games I've ever seen, which is saying a lot when you consider the Eagles and Cowboys were not involved, and contrary to what I heard many people say, it was also one of the best Super Bowls of recent memory.

The best team in the league, riding an unbeaten streak, was going against the hottest team in the playoffs, and it was a bloodbath. Two teams slugged it out for three quarters, playing smash-mouth playoff football in a low scoring defensive struggle, all leading up to an amazing 4 lead changes in the fourth quarter with a historic finish.

When either team was down at the end of the game, their quarterback orchestrated scoring drives to put them ahead. But the Giants were the ones catching all the breaks and the Patriots were the ones missing them; and I'm not saying that to diminish what the Giants accomplished. Don't get me wrong, the Giants deserved to win this game and the Patriots deserved to lose it (even though I would argue that if they played this game out ten times, the Pats would win 8 of them). Yet you can't deny that while the Patriots dropped potential Eli Manning interceptions, failed to fall on fumbles, penalized themselves out of good field position, and made mistakes at the worst times, the Giants seemed to be capable of no wrong.

Now make no mistake, the Giants four man pass rush was possibly the best I've ever seen in my life in ANY game and was the biggest factor in the outcome. Every quarterback in the history of the league would have wilted under the pressure they were applying, and Tom Brady was no different. Eli engineering two touchdown drives in the fourth quarter was impressive, but hand the MVP award to that defensive line because they were the difference makers.

Which brings me back to all you traitors out there. How does it feel now? For the next year, every Giants fan you know won't be able to contain themselves in reminding us Eagles fans just how sweet it is and how pathetic we are. The talentless-but-tall Plaxico Burress, who KILLS the Eagles every year on that same fade to the corner of the endzone used to win XLII, has tears of joy streaming down his face as he holds the Lombardi trophy. When he's done, he'll hand it to Michael Strahan, the gap-toothed McNabb sacker who deflates us at least twice a year during a crucial third down sack that kills a Philadelphia drive.

Next year they'll be riding a wave of confidence. The world champion New York "Football" Giants chanting "18 and 1". Dealing with a 13 win Dallas team wasn't going to be tough enough, now we get to face the world champs in our own division.

And to top it all off, Eli Manning, the always inconsistent quarterback notorious for imploding, the quarterback who never looked confident, the quarterback you could count on to kill the Giants when the Eagles need him to, is gone. He's officially turned the corner; he's now a legitimate threat. He never wowed anyone with stats like his big bro, but for the most important five games in his young career he put the team on his shoulders and now he has a Super Bowl ring and MVP award to show for it. No longer a killer to his team, he's a killer to ours.

The real deal. . . .

Twice a year. . . .

And you cheered for it. You wanted it. For two weeks you talked about it, hoped for it, maybe even prayed for it. And why? Because one Super Bowl loss to a better team overrides decades of bitter rivalry? Because "that Bill Belichick seems like such a jerk" even though the Giants have Plaxico, Strahan AND Jeremy Shockey? Because you'd like to see someone else win for a change?

Well someone else did, and it wasn't us. The team we hate almost as much as the Cowboys just won it all.

And you willed it to happen. Congratulations. Now go home and get your fuckin' shinebox.

Sincerely, Me

P.S. I'm back fuckers