When I was 20 years old, my friends and I went to the local multiplex to see “American Pie”. We wanted to see boobs and jokes about splooging on people, and what we received did not disappoint. That movie, and most comedies that have followed since, are childish, crude and filled with jokes about semen. Critics have been claiming for years that these raunchier films represent the true fall of cinema.
“If movies get any more lowbrow than this, they’ll just be porn,” the critics said. “This is the lowest that comedies can fall. Semen jokes, penises in pies, people banging each other’s moms. We have now reached a unique moment in cinematic history where films cannot get any worse.”
Here I sit, 14 years later, on the verge of proving them wrong. Movies can’t get worse? I can make them worse. I can make them so much worse. I’m on the verge of a new breakthrough formula for comedy films that will become the next level of decay for a once respected art form.
Remember the movie “Wedding Crashers”? It was hilarious in the beginning when they were sloppy drunks who tricked people and mooched free booze. But there were fewer laughs in the second half of the film. They fell in love. They stopped crashing weddings. They became slightly better people. There were still laughs, but not as many as when they were drunken asswipes.
How much better would that movie have been if they were just drunken asswipes the entire time? Why not make the whole movie hilarious instead of just half of it? Get rid of the plot. Get rid of the love stories and lesson learning. The internet has made our attention spans so weak that none of us can follow a plot for more than ten seconds anyway. I can’t even watch a good movie anymore without surfing the internet and texting people through half of it. Most of you are probably skimming this column instead of reading it. That’s why I print swear words every other sentence. It’s the only thing that gets people to stop and read an entire paragraph.
It’s time for someone to update the standard comedy film formula. Do you know how much of the movie “Old School” I usually watch? The first half. They spend most of the second half becoming better people, so I get bored and turn it off. Guess how much of “Billy Madison” I watch? The first half. Office Space? The first half. Happy Gilmore? Super Troopers? Tommy Boy? Only the first few scenes. Half Baked? I watch all of it, because Harland Williams is a goddamn treasure.
Imagine how much better all these movies would have been if the second halves were as funny as the first halves? Why stop the fun just to shoehorn some predictable plot into the film? Why force some boring love story that makes everyone roll their eyes? It’s like Nabisco trying to sell us bags of Oreo cookies when what we really want is a bag of just the creme centers. Why do they even include the cookie part? Just give me the good stuff. All hilariousness, no lesson learning. All desserts, no dinner. All orgasms, with none of that tedious thrusting beforehand. All filler, no buzz killers.
Why have a mullet haircut that’s business in the front and party in the back when your hair can have a party in the back and the front? People at your work can see the party in the back of your hair. They walk behind you sometimes. They know about the party. Just give it to them everywhere. Don’t make them walk around to the back of your hair. What are you, an egotistical monster?
I’ve spent the last few weeks developing a comedy film formula that will allow me to create a movie with no plot, exposition or character development whatsoever. The general stories will remain the same. All the characters will be drunken failures who vaguely remind you of some guy from your college who’s probably in jail for rape now. They will all live carefree lives where they screw off all day yet somehow still live in a really spacious apartment. At some point, an elderly woman will be run over by an animal driving a golf cart.
The tricky part is the ending. How do you put on the brakes after 90 minutes of dumptrucking dong jokes into a script? Just have the main character look into the camera and say, “Drinking and golf cart murders: They’re the best!” and then the credits start rolling? I still need to figure it out. All I know for sure is when the movie’s finished, everyone will continue to be terrible people who should probably be executed, and no one will have improved themselves or changed in any possible way. Granted, the old woman who got run over by the golf cart will be dead, which is technically a change, but I promise her death will not have caused her to learn any lessons.
I’m this close, guys. I’m almost there. Soon you’ll never have to turn off a movie halfway through again. If it doesn’t work out, I can always go with my backup plan of starting a movie rental service where I edit the awkward pauses out of Paul Thomas Anderson movies, shortening them from three hours down to roughly 40 minutes. So either way, I’m going to be rich soon. The line to ride my coattails begins here.