How I Took A Week And A Half To Meet Your Mother

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That look on Mason’s face in panel two is without a doubt the look of a man who’s just become very aroused by the thought of meeting his sexy young co-star’s mother, who’s probably just about in his wheelhouse age-wise too. I just love how oblivious and blithe he is about it all too, like he doesn’t give a damn about Cindy and her jealous nonsense anymore, not when there’s a hot starlet’s mom out there just dying to meet him.

And check out Frankie, lurking around with his cell phone camera like some low-budget Allen Funt, still ominously sneering away with abandon. Heh heh heh, this will serve that Mason Jarre right for, uh, being his first paying customer and, uh…what’s the point of this again? Oh yeah, that’s right, TomBan never bothered to tell us what Frankie’s motives are here so as of right now it’s just stuff happening for no apparent reason. In other words, your typical FW Act III story.

Film Food Flim Flam

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Looks like it’s Frankie’s lucky day, which by my calculations will mark his first lucky day since way, way back in Act I when his poodle-headed cockeyed homely nerd girl fantasy finally came true. Now comes the part where he concocts a phony story about Mason and Marianne, which will send Cindy into a violent huge-fonted rage. So predictably BanTom. And that dialog is just atrocious…”even when I didn’t believe in myself”…LOL, once again Batiuk just uncannily captures the way “real” women speak.

The whole Film Food thing continues to amuse me to no end. Look at that set-up, chairs, fancy-schmancy two-pronged forks and everything. He must have spent a small fortune on that thing, not to mention the licenses and permits and so forth. Seems like a lot of work and expense to go through just to obtain some gossip, he could have just used a fraction of that money to bribe someone or something.

And this whole “Mason is merely mentoring his younger fellow actor and not trying to hit on her at all” thing he’s doing with these two is making me queasy. Wasn’t his fiancee totally melting down just a few minutes ago in strip time? His first reaction was to grab an intimate bite at a mysterious food truck with his co-star then volunteer to meet her mother? Obvious Mason hasn’t been in too many committed relationships before, as getting closer to the perceived enemy your significant other despises tends not to work very well in most cases.

Takes One To Blow One

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“Lampshades Askew – The Cliff Anger Story”

I’m looking forward to the part where Cliff explains what he was doing for those sixty years between film gigs. Should be some compelling stuff there. She’ll no doubt have minutes of footage to sift through. It’ll be the first documentary film ever where they ADD stuff from the cutting room floor.

“Food, dope, hookers…you can get anything delivered in Manhattan but just try to find a lampshade de-skewerer that speaks f*cking English in that town, consarnit! No one knows the shame I’ve had to endure (beings weeping). Uneven shadows, difficulty reading properly…so many wasted decades….damn that Nixon for de-regulating the lampshade de-skewering industry back in ’73!”

BanTom is really going all out to very, very slowly and painstakingly set the stage here, or as we call it, “killing as much time as humanly possible to avoid having to exert any effort at all or create a story anyone would actually want to read”. I’ve seen enough wry Mason/Cindy banter for ten lifetimes, just get to the f*cking fireworks factory already, dammit. And what the hell is the deal with this f*cking movie? What is it, “9 1/2 Weeks In Space” or something? It’s more like “9 1/2 Years”, amirite?

Cut The Cheese

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You know how this could be funny?  If it showed three or four kissing takes, each one of them interrupted by Cindy, despite repeated promises that she would behave next time.  The director would get madder and madder, and Mason would have to calm him down, “Give her another chance, Mr. Popsicle!”  Admittedly, not a laff-riot, but amusing, and driven by the character, instead of the necessity of “running out the clock.”

I guess I’m really saying that this could have been funny, in the hands of a different cartoonist.  As it is, it’s about as boring as this thing gets.  We get it–Cindy is a neurotic mass of fears, jealousies and insecurities.   She also lacks any sort of self-awareness and is incapable of restraint.   None of this makes her funny.  Now, she’d be perfect in a certain type of comedy (the Three Stooges comes to mind), or as the kind of woman that a guy has to escape from, but each time she keeps turning up (Carrie Fisher in “The Blues Brothers,” e.g.).

Her character also keeps this from being poignant.  Cindy is well aware that Mason’s career depends on getting roles, and he’s the perfect type for “romantic lead.”  Which would mean a lot of kissing, and perhaps some bedroom scenes.  Cindy ought to recognize that a) it’s good if he keeps getting work, and b) it’s all make-believe.

That second part is really crucial; it’s something she should keep in the forefront of her thoughts all the time.  Which wouldn’t be a problem if she had some other way to fill her time.  Doesn’t she have a job?  Shouldn’t she be putting her energies into that, instead of blitzing-out every time she thinks that someone attractive is a threat to her?  As it is, I can’t help feeling Mason is going to wise up some day, and think, “You know, she really is crazy.  Time for goodbyes.  Where’s that old kevlar vest I used to have?”

Speaking of goodbyes, this is the end of my current stint.  Please give a warm SOSF welcome to your new host, Epicus Doomus!

Paper or Plastic Dirt-Bag?

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Never mind the title of this entry; sometimes it’s really hard to be clever, as Frankie (and a certain cartoonist) can well attest.   So, like a certain cartoonist might say, you grab a word out of the material in front of you and think, “What goes with ‘dirt’?”  You might find yourself surprised by your findings.  And not in a good way.

Anyway.  So, Frankie and Lenny see Mason and Marianne walking away toward the studio soundstage.

Somehow, this gives Frankie ideas.  Big ideas–the kind his boss, Fred Flintstone, wants.  The kind he knows Fred will see, and he’ll get that maniacal gleam in his eyes.   “Boys,” he’ll say, “boys, this–this is good.  This is really, really good.  Yabba-dabba-do!”

And, using a bit of imagination, I can see the headlines now:

As Alfred E. Neuman once offered, “Perfect for framing or wrapping fish!”  What he once said about his own portrait might now apply to certain sections of the newspaper in their entirety.