Things are looking...uppish

Big props to the WGA for the decision to pursue interim agreements. If anything is going to end this ridiculous strike, it's going to be these side deals. Now the big question is whether Lionsgate and MGM will follow in United Artists and The Weinstein Company's footsteps. Right now, any company that signs an interim agreement has first pick for all the spec scripts floating around out there, not to mention unprecedented access to the big name writers who are normally booked solid all year long. That's a hell of a carrot to dangle.

Now that we've finally got some forward momentum, let's hope WGA leadership is smart enough to finally drop some of our more ludicrous demands, namely jurisdiction for animation and reality show writers. I don't know how much more evidence they need that reality television is our enemy. These busy little monkeys are working overtime to plug the holes we're creating, and yet we're still collectively diving on that hand grenade for them. And there's nothing noble about making a stupid sacrifice for an ungrateful audience.

Financially, the strike hasn't clobbered me too badly yet, but that's mainly because I've been a cheap bastard. I stopped buying DVDs, games or new clothes. I haven't gone out partying since I moved up here. Half my video games are on Ebay right now, and I'm eating Ramen five or six times a week. It's not the most glamorous lifestyle, sure, but since I don't have kids or mortgage payments, I'm not struggling the way a lot of writers are. I've heard horror stores about people going without medicine, repossessed vehicles, defaulted loans and the like.

So if you've looking for some instant karma points, consider donating to one of the assistance funds set up for industry workers--especially the teamsters and below-the-line guys--who are experiencing financial or medical emergencies due to the strike.

I've also stopped picketing. I know that's enough to get me branded as a traitor in some corners, but let's be realistic here: picketing is only a useful striking tool when it's accompanied by media coverage. And once the movie stars stopped coming out, so did the cameras.

The continued picketing seems less about changing people's minds and more about bolstering Guild solidarity. Which is great if you're down with the chanting and the rah-rah. I'm not. I don't like crowds and I don't like catchphrases, and I definitely don't like waking up at five o'clock in the morning so I can scream slogans at some poor administrative assistant making minimum wage who's more worried about whether she'll make it through the end of the day without getting laid off.

Put it this way: if NBC finally caves, it's because they're taking a 15 million dollar bath on the Golden Globes, not because six guys are marching in a circle outside Leno's studio.

Also (and I'm trying to be diplomatic here) I don't really feel like being associated with a few of the protesters I've met on the picket lines. I've seen people screaming until the veins pop out in their neck, or purposely striding into the path of oncoming cars, or heaping verbal abuse on any exiting vehicle that looks even remotely expensive. Granted, this has been a very small minority of the picketers...but they sure are some vocal motherfuckers. I understand that we're all under a lot of pressure, but when protesters start foaming at the mouth, I head straight for my car.

So what else is new?

I almost died flying home from Christmas break. The turbulence taking off from Denver was so brutal that passengers started projective vomiting all over the place, and things went downhill from there. The flight was basically three hours of God kicking our vomit-filled cylinder through the sky like an aluminum can...and just when it seemed like things couldn't get any worse, they played the inflight movie.

RUSH FUCKING HOUR 3.

In less than ten minutes I went from praying for my life to actively rooting for a Twilight Zone gremlin to start dismantling the wings. At one point, Tucker and Chan show up at a karate school and the students immediately begin kicking their asses for literally no reason. It was like Ratner suddenly realized they had gone 10 minutes without an action scene and reasoned that hey, people fight in karate class, right? So why not have a giant show up and immediately start pounding the living shit out of a pair of police officers?

I know I can get hyperbolic when it comes to ranting about movies, but I swear to God that at one point I had the option between seeing Chris Tucker do his Michael Jackson impression--again! it gets funnier every time!--or watching the kid in the next aisle puke into his barf bag, and I went with the barfing.

Finally, not that anybody cares, but my top 10 for 2007:

1. THERE WILL BE BLOOD
2. HOT FUZZ
3. THE ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES
4. NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN
5. SUPERBAD
6. ZODIAC
7. PIRATES 3 (fuck you, it's great)
8. SWEENEY TODD
9. KNOCKED UP
10. RATATOUILLE

And my Worst of 2007:

1. RUSH HOUR 3
2. RUSH HOUR 3
3. RUSH HOUR 3
4. DAN IN REAL LIFE
5. RUSH HOUR 3

All in all, this turned out to be the best year for film since 1999, which is no small feat. Will 2008 be even better?

Well, no, actually. It won't.

But hey...IRON MAN!