1 06 2006

I recently was held visually hostage by The Island and I have to admit that I am stunned. Normally this would be my snarky segue into discussing how spectacularly bad this movie was, but such treatment is a bit superfluous when examining any Michael Bay film. Remember, this is the guy who made Armageddon and is still being funded to do further work. What took me aback were the equally prominent and transparent corporate sponsorships that littered the screen through the entire feature. In no particular order, here are the ones I caught:

MSN search
Calvin Klein
Chevrolet [some new model truck thingy (SSR?) & some hatchback thingy]
Cadillac (some high-performance car, possibly the XLR, mentioned explicitly as a “Caddy”)
Ben & Jerry’s (momentary, but noticeable)
American Express (not in name, but in display of the distinctive Blue card)
Puma (by logo only)
Monza watches (brief, but showed a panel of them all at once)

One can hardly blame Hollywood. It is a poor, destitute nation seeking only to scrape out a living by any menial means necessary. With internet downloads stealing precious ticket purchases from their coffers, Michael Bay has had to take a second job directing snuff films just to subsist. The situation for those in the entertainment industry hasn’t been this dire since Napster forced Metallica to live on the streets, playing accoustic thrash metal on the boardwalk for donations. For my money, however, Hollywood needs to be weaned off the welfare teat, and I know how it can be done with your help.

As an American I know it is my civic responsibility to loudly whine about issues of little social consequence. I want to storm the Halls Of Power and make a tremendous stink about something I don’t care for, hoping that it will cast fear into the hearts of those who wish to maintain a strangehold on my elective spending. I want to loudly chant threats of embargo, even though I’m not entirely sure what it it means. I think it has something to do with cigars. Most importantly, I want to do all of this as passively as possible, since I’m not really motivated to get up out of my comfortable seat to make any actual stir. That’s why I drafted this letter to send to the CEOs that have wantonly abused my love of bad cinema with gratuitous corporate tie-ins. I invite you to copy it and do the same so that you too can be a Great American, even if you live in some other crappy country that doesn’t have a time-honored tradition of crybabyism.

Dear Facilitators Of Corporate Whoredom,

It has been said that there is no such thing as bad publicity. I aim to change that.

Your advertising dollars are likely targetted to specific demographics. I’m sure you carefully select the television and radio features that you associate yourself with. That is certainly your perogative – I don’t pay for either of those services, so I’m happy to casually tune out your efforts in those media. However, when you see fit to infect my cinematic experience, a generally costly experience at that, I must take exception.

I can see why you’d want to weave your namedrop into a supposed blockbuster like The Island as it seems destined for financial, if not critical, success. From the previews alone I could ascertain that it was going to be a big budget thriller packaged neatly with everything it would need to create a stir among viewers. It was leveraging ample special effects, Ewan MacGregor’s acting chops and Scarlett Johansson’s striking beauty (if the whole “I’m unable to entirely close my mouth” pout gets your rocks off). I guess the only problem here is the movie was rife with suck. It was the cinematic equivalent of passing kidney stones and I’m making it your problem as well.

I’ve witnessed enough sponsored athletes and NASCAR branding to know that you like nothing more than to associate yourself with excellence. The logical assumption is that we are to believe that your products and/or services are likewise beyond the pale. Unfortunately for you, I’ve got a tenuous enough grasp on logic to deduce that plugging your name on a shitty product therefore encourages me to view you as similarly shitty. The Island shitty.

Henceforth, if your advertising appears in any form of media that I deem to be unworthy of my accolades, I will simply assume that your product du jour is also a dungpile. I don’t care if it follows a Fallout Boy song on the radio or even appears on a TV station that plays re-runs of Everybody Loves Raymond at 2:30 a.m. – if they suck, you suck.

Yours Revolutionarily,





3 responses

1 06 2006

See, this is why I only date sluts with really loose vaginas. It’s not because they’re easy and the only ones who will give me the time of day, but rather, by association, it gives the impression that they’re the only ones who can accommodate my massively erect member without extreme pain.

1 06 2006

Am I the only one that got completely aroused by this? Anyone?

1 06 2006

Well, I was aroused by your letter…

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