Internet, I did something really embarrassing on the Internet today.
Don’t worry. It wasn’t this bad.
See, I followed a link to watch a trailer for a movie called Quiet Ryan, starring Ryan Gosling as a man who doesn’t speak. At all. Curious about whether Gosling’s current swell of popularity could carry such a gimmick, I watched almost the entire thing before realizing something rather important. See if you can pick up on it:
You guys. This is not a real movie. I got almost the entire way through before realizing that.
YES I KNOW it was on Funny or Die, and YES I KNOW it was rated “M” for “MUTE,” and YES I KNOW that 99% of the time no one would cast Ryan Gosling as a character named Ryan, but…I don’t know. I blame this Daylight Savings Time horseshit for turning me into a middle-aged woman who thinks she’s blogging when she types in the Google search bar. I’m tired and easily confused, Internet, and honestly, is it so far off base to believe that Hollywood would put up the cash to produce Quiet Ryan? Because I was glued to that damn trailer, and I gotta tell ya’, it looked better that most of the full-length stuff getting released these days, and I’m not even one of those broads who gets all a-flutter over Gosling. I mean, I’m not much for blondes and I hated The Notebook and…
Desperate to defend my fail, I took a glance at some of the upcoming movies we’ll be treated to in the near future. Did you know that MGM just secured the movie rights to Where’s Waldo? OH YES. They’re making a live action, FULL-LENGTH film about a book you don’t even have to be literate to enjoy.
This, however, is an acceptable adaptation.
Seriously, I’d rather shell out ticket and popcorn and babysitter money for a fake movie in which the title character DOES NOT SPEAK than for a movie that will probably star Ed Helms in a stripey shirt.
Nothing personal, ‘Nard Dog.
And that got me to thinking: if the Ryan Gosling spoof looked that viable to me, why not come up with some others? Quiet Ryan was meant to be play on Gosling’s trademark silence and pregnant pauses onscreen, and there is definitely no shortage of actors with their personal brands of actor-y quirks in Hollywood, so let’s have some fun, shall we?
I present to you my pitches for the following feature-length films. Please make your checks out to Jive Turkey:
Sleepwalking Kristen: What happens when a marginally talented, overly entitled young actress becomes ridiculously famous due to a franchise of popular teen vampire movies in which no one gets to bone? Well, you get a marginally talented, overly entitled young actress who acts like a bored little twat about the whole thing. Audiences will thrill to watch Kristen coast on Twilight fame until she turns 30 and is no longer marketable due to having the range of an acorn. Enjoy it! Or don’t. I don’t care — I’m above the whole thing, really.
Trusting Bradley: ‘Sup, ladies? It’s me, Bradley Cooper. Pretty hot, right? Well, proceed at your own risk. I mean, I’m handsome, but I’m kind of slimy, aren’t I? Or maybe I’m not? You’ll never know if you don’t try…but trying might land you in an emotionally abusive relationship with a guy who gives you an STD and then lies about it. Don’t worry, though — you’ll have plenty of time to think about whether or not you want to stay with me while I’m out…buying you flowers? Banging your sister? Volunteering at the animal shelter? Getting a blowie from a college student? YOU MAY NEVER KNOW.
I Have More Quirkiness In My Bangs Than All The Etsy Shops Combined Zooey: Want a manic pixie dream girl? That’s for amateurs. How about a manic pixie dream girl who’s ALSO in a band and and wears vintage dresses and likes to cruelly play around with Joseph Gordon Levitt’s emotions and still manage to be a hipster’s wet dream while getting cast in a mediocre sitcom as some sort of goofy hot girl who’s not supposed to be hot? Now you’re talkin’.
Forever Adolescent Michael: He’s your BFF in study hall, your constant childhood companion, your sherpa through the wilds of puberty. Michael Cera is the new eternal teenager, and–much like Dick Clark before him–is destined to become a terrifying shadow of his former self once he is ravaged by the cruel passage of time and a massive stroke. Better to enjoy him now, when he’s still passable as a naive little lamb who’d carry your books before fumblingly taking your virginity in his mom’s basement. Michael Cera, you smell like an intoxicating blend of Old Spice deodorant and Johnson’s baby shampoo, and we wouldn’t want you any other way.
WTF Tilda? I admire you, I’m terrified of you, I want to have a conversation with you, but I’m afraid you’d steal my soul. You’re a brilliant actor and I am entirely convinced you are not of this world. I do not understand one single thing about you, and for every “normal” picture taken of you, there are 85 more of you wearing a skull cap, aviator goggles, and a tweed coat. I want to have sex with you because I’m pretty sure it would involved body parts I’ve never seen before, and maybe also hallucinations. Seriously — WTF, TILDA?
That’s all I’ve go so far, Internet. What do you think? Would you pay to see these films? Any others you’d like to see made? I got all day and all the Microsoft Word Art in the world. Lemme have it.
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