Tag Archives: lindsey lohan

movie pitch: mannequillers!

. . . And now we receive word that some production house called “Gladden Entertainment” is developing a remake of Mannequin. As a coworker and FOE plaintively cried while yanking out locks of her own hair: “Seriously, they’re going to remake that movie? WHY???”

Evil is tempted to retort: “Because they’re finally running out of ‘80s movies to remake.” But if that were so, where’s my Adventures In Babysitting reboot? (Evil sees this as a perfect vehicle for a Lindsey Lohan comeback role in a gritty, monochrome re-envisioning of the movie for our times.)

io9 has a fun breakdown of what we should expect—nay, demand—from any Mannequin remake. But here at the Evil, things skew less to the fun and more to the . . . hmm . . . aberrant? Yeah, that’ll work.

As you know, National Evil Movie Pitchery® (a.k.a. NEMP®) has produced an unquestionably stupendous run of ideas bursting Athena-like from the Evil’s Zeuslike brow. But today calls for an exception, in which the Evil offers his NEMPing services to a project already in production . . . and brings you:


. . . Because, let’s face it, why hasn’t there been a movie about killer mannequins? (And if there has, maybe some low budget mid-70s movie lampooned by MST3K . . . well, fie on you for knowing that.) Hey, what’s scarier than a doll come to life? (You don’t have to say “any clown.” Evil knows.) A giant doll! You can even keep the romantic element to draw in the lay-days.

You take your basic elements from the original—Andrew McCarthy-esque everyman meets hottie mannequin come-to-life (starring Lindsey Lohan in her big comeback role!). She seduces him . . . but not for love. No: she needs our hero to unleash an ancient Gypsy curse that will animate all mannequins—and place them under her power. After releasing the mannequin horde, our hero desperately rushes to stop his one true love before she takes revenge on all mankind!

. . . Because, um, animated mannequins feast on human brains to, you know, stay animated?

OK, it’s a reach. Maybe this entire Mannequin reboot idea is just a bad one all around. What say you?


initiate 10-year moratorium on “surprise” movie reveals . . . NOW.

Ohmygod! In the end, it turns out . . . duh-duh-duh-DUHHHN! . . . this movie sucks.

In his devotion to your success, health, and happiness—and control over same—the National Evil today performs the service of eliminating one movie from your future-viewing list. Happy birthday, dear reader: the Evil is giving you back two hours of your life.

He speaks of Revolver, reputed to be Guy Ritchie’s return to wiseass crime capery after his unfortunate bout of Madonnitis. The Evil isn’t even sure if Revolver was released in the States. He hopes not. It might have stolen screens from some Lindsey Lohan movie. And that would be a tragedy. A tragedy.

Problems abound in this film. The Evil hasn’t seen Idlewild, but if his performance in this flick is any indication, Andre 3000 shouldn’t have quit his day job. (One can only assume he has. That new OutKast project drops . . . when? Anyone?) One of the two coolest motherfunkers on the planet he may be, but the agony of every scene he inhabits is exceeded only by the scrotum-kicking pain of every scene Ray Liotta infests. What is up with Ray, anyway? When GoodFellas wrapped, was he issued a special voucher entitling him to a long acting career regardless of the quality of his work?

The real issue with Revolver, however—and the topic of this post—is the Fight Club and The Sixth Sense-esque “What the FUCK?!!” moment it intends to unleash on the viewer. The Reveal.

Continue reading initiate 10-year moratorium on “surprise” movie reveals . . . NOW.