From the monthly archives:

February 2010

With ECW on SyFy’s ratings stagnating beyond repair, the WWE has given us a ‘brand new, innovative’ ‘WWE meet reality TV’ concept – as the promos keep saying – for our entertainment on Tuesday nights. NXT (pronounced N-X-T, not text speak for Next) is a thirteen-week series where eight rookies team up with eight members of the WWE roster. One rookie will win a contract in the end to wrestle on Monday Night Raw, determined through the process of reality TV-style elimination. I don’t know whether this is actually true as it hasn’t been made explicitly clear to us yet, for some reason.

NXT starts with a typical stilted WWE backstage segment. So much for reality TV. The Miz demands his rookie Daniel Bryan (former ROH Champion Bryan Danielson) to go to the ring and show some personality to the audience. Miz then has a strange theatrical aside where he tells the world if Daniel doesn’t impress, he’ll slap the taste out of his mouth. It’s Shakespeare for idiots! I hope NXT avoids these backstage segments as they’re already cringeworthy and poorly acted on Raw and Smackdown.

Things pick up as Daniel Bryan comes to the ring and apologises for being paired with The Miz, stating he’d rather have William Regal as a mentor, presumably for the submission style wrestling background. This brings out The Miz, taking exception to Bryan’s apology. After an argument about who is the more successful wrestler, Miz slaps Daniel Bryan and walks away.

In our first match, Carlito and his rookie Michael Tarver team up against Christian and Heath Slater. As Kick-Out!! pointed out: Christian/Slater, get it? Before the match, we’re introduced to the reality TV aspect of NXT through personal interviews with Tarver and Slater. And you know what? They’re very effective. In the match, Christian pins Michael Tarver after Slater drags Carlito out of the ring, with miscommunication the blame for Tarver and Carlito’s loss.

Up next, CM Punk’s rookie Darren Young – think John Cena if he were a severely tanned troll – is annihilated by David Otunga (mentor: R-Truth) in match barely lasting a minute. Did you know Otunga is Jennifer Hudson’s boyfriend? It took him all of seventeen seconds to mention that. Thankfully for him, he looks impressive as a wrestler, so the association is just icing on the cake. Oh, he’s also met Barack Obama twice. That means in the heavily Republican supported WWE he’s a bad guy.

Next week on NXT: OH SHIT! WE FORGOT TO INTRODUCE TWO OF THE ROOKIES!

In the main event, World Champion Chris Jericho faces Daniel Bryan in an amazing contest, even with the bizarre distraction of Jericho’s rookie Wade Barrett being interviewed at ringside as the match is happening. Bryan has arguably the strongest debut since John Cena in 2002; practically killing himself when Y2J sends him flying into the announce table, hooking in a leglock that nearly makes the champion tap, before having to submit thanks to a (these days) rare use of the Walls of Jericho. Afterwards, The Miz beats down Daniel Bryan to end the debut edition of the show.

Right now, the tone of NXT isn’t perfect. It wants to be an obviously scripted show with traditional wrestling storylines, yet they’re firing on all cylinders when they had the interviews. I don’t know why they can’t have the storylines shot and presented in the same reality TV style way. Why couldn’t they have had The Miz and Daniel Bryan, in character, improvising an argument in a gym or something leading up to the in-ring promo? The tension would be a lot more believable. Apart from that, it was an enjoyable show.

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The pay-per-view formerly known as No Way Out is where the Wrestlemania card usually takes shape, but several surprises at the Elimination Chamber event mean what we’ll see in five weeks time in Arizona is for the most part still unclear.

The show kicked off with the first of two Elimination Chamber matches between defending WWE Champion Sheamus, Legacy’s Randy Orton and Ted Dibiase, Kofi Kingston, John Cena, and Triple H. While Legacy finally exploded when Dibiase took advantage of an accidental lead pipe shot to Orton by pinning him; Sheamus’ two-month title reign came to a sudden end, with his place on the Wrestlemania card now doubtful. My biggest criticism of the Raw brand is its failure to try anything new, so when Triple H and John Cena are the last men standing once again, there’s more of a collective groan than excitement. Cena became WWE Champion for the sixth time after he made Triple H submit to the STF.

But that wasn’t it. In response to Cena’s support of Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart, Vince McMahon reran the events of New Year’s Revolution 2006 by declaring Cena must defend his title immediately against Batista. In the space of a minute, Batista became champion, and a match against Cena – unnecessarily for the WWE Title – looks set for Wrestlemania.

Next, Drew McIntyre defended his Intercontinental Championship against Kane. Considering the Scotsman is an up-and-comer and handpicked by Vince McMahon as a future World Champion, that he won against a man with a poor record against whomever the WWE is touting as the Next Big Thing came as no surprise. McIntyre won by following up an eye gouge with the Future Shock Double Arm DDT.

In a bizarre decision, Maryse and Gail Kim’s match for the vacant Divas Championship (or as I call it: the Toilet Break Title) was changed to a dire tag match against Smackdown’s Michelle McCool and Layla. Team Smackdown won after a ridiculous ending where Maryse mistimed swerving her tag partner, leaving Gail Kim stood there looking like an idiot for what felt like an age.

In technically the third unadvertised match of the night, The Miz (accompanied to the ring by Big Show) again defended his United States Title against MVP (with Mark Henry). Like last month’s unadvertised match at the Royal Rumble, this was a decent bout between (hopefully) two future main eventers. In the end, interference proved to be the deciding factor as Henry crashed through the barricade, while Show delivered a knock-out punch to MVP when the referee wasn’t looking in a nod to how he used to win matches with his former Tag partner Chris Jericho.

Speaking of, Chris Jericho became the World Heavyweight Champion in the second Elimination Chamber match. It was a more entertaining affair than the opening bout, and indicative of how better Smackdown is as a show compared to Raw. During the match, CM Punk pinned R-Truth before cutting a promo to further his Straight Edge Society cause, the true highlight of the WWE right now. Then Rey Mysterio got revenge for Punk’s recent actions by eliminating him. John Morrison won a surprising pinfall over Mysterio, but fell victim to defending champion The Undertaker. The ending was marred in controversy when Shawn Michaels appeared from under the Chamber, delivered Sweet Chin Music to Undertaker, and let Chris Jericho pick up the victory to become World Champion for the third time.

Elimination Chamber was a show of two halves. Everything up to MVP/Miz was wretched, at which point it became good. How Wrestlemania will shape up is anybody’s guess. It seems the two title matches will be Edge versus Chris Jericho for the World Title, and John Cena versus Batista for the WWE Title. However, with Shawn Michaels versus The Undertaker seemingly back on after a teased demise of D-Generation X, where does this leave Triple H on the biggest show of the year?

RATING: 6/10

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Bring It On is my guilty pleasure film, and not just because it features Eliza Dushku and Clare Kramer in cheerleader outfits.

Quite simply, this is fun. I might hammer this point home over the coming weeks and months, but American comedies shoot themselves in the foot by dumping emotional weight – usually to do with a shoehorned-in love interest – in the latter half of a film in a vain attempt to make us care about the characters. This is why the majority of them are uneven, sappy, and false.

Bring It On, however, doesn’t go into great detail of the blossoming relationship between bland head cheerleader Torrance (Kirsten Dunst) and slightly poser-ish punk fan Cliff (Jesse Bradford). It concentrates on delivering surprisingly consistent comedy instead. It’s not the most sophisticated humour ever – the biggest laughs come from cheerleader pratfalls, puking, and a crazed pill-popping dance instructor showing what spirit fingers are – but Bring It On gels together in a way I can’t put into words.

The film is by no means perfect. For example, there’s a pointless subplot where the East Compton Clovers are only able to go to the Cheerleading National Finals because an Oprah-esque chat show host funds them. But in terms of brainless entertainment, Bring It On is a pleasure to watch.

Does this mean I’m going to check out one of the four direct-to-video sequels to this film? No. I still have a modicum of respect for myself.

RATING: 7/10

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Meanwhile…

by Chris Wilson on February 21, 2010 · Comments

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Post image for 003: Insurance Job

Ever thought you were in a dead end job? Try being on board the WMC Expeditione. All the crew has a designated role: the Captain mans the ship, the Commander keeps the Captain’s seat warm during night shifts, the Doctor nurses the sick, the cook makes food, and the Robot in Engineering tries to prove it is human by crying a lot. Nobody can break through the glass ceiling. If they did, they’d be sucked out into space.

I’m not supposed to be here (have I emphasised that enough yet?). There’s no job for me as people with actual qualifications and stuff have them, so the officials created a new role. Nothing important, just busy work. I asked why I couldn’t spend my days drinking in the bar. They said it’s important to stay active for my own psychological well-being. I know what they mean. When I finished my Media Studies degree, I was unemployed for two years. I spent my days writing self-referential absurd science fiction. The feedback I got on my blog did immense damage to my self-esteem.

Anyway, my job description is as follows: I sell life insurance. Door to door.

9am, Monday morning. In my makeshift uniform – my normal clothes turned inside out, underwear and all – I step out of my/Horace’s sleeping quarters, sidestep to the left, and knock on my neighbour’s door. I hear a grumble, and a body reluctantly roll out of bed. The door opens to reveal Lieutenant Dave Lovey: pale skin, silver whiskers, with bags under his eyes heavier than a teenager’s taste in music.

“Hello sir, have you ever thought of taking out life insurance?” I say in a way where my soul dies a little, like a real salesman.

“What?” Lovey yawns agitatedly.

“Tired? Did you know there are lots of ways to die in your sleep? Heart attack. Sudden unexpected death syndrome. Freddy Krueger… If you take out life insurance, your family is covered for funeral expenses.”

“What family? All our families died on Earth!” Lovey lowers his voice, “And I’m tired as I’ve just finished a night shift, and I’m back at work in four hours.”

That got me thinking: “Maybe I should go into the labour law business…”

Lovey slams the door shut.

I decide to take my business up a deck. As sleeping quarters were assigned indiscriminate of rank, the second floor looks no different to the first. The same dreary grey walls. The same abrasive grey carpets. Grey is the general theme. Yet, this is my dream retirement home. All I need to do is work stupid hours and not eat for the next forty-five years, then I can afford a place here.

Again, I knock on the door closest to me. It’s answered by the ship’s androgynous looking Doctor. I don’t mean it in a kind of hot Japanese way either. Did you ever see Les Dawson dressed as a woman? The Doctor looks like that, with Lily Savage’s hair. For the benefit of the American audience, the Doctor looks like a biker whose swallowed a greasy, processed beanbag.

Sir or madam? Sir or madam? Finally, I speak: “Hello sir,” to which I receive a punch to the jaw.

“How dare you?” she says, also slamming the door shut. I later found out her name is Doctor Susan Susan Susan. I hope I never need medical assistance now as she’ll ‘accidentally’ kill me. Still, I have less chance of dying in her hands than I did in an NHS hospital. AM I RIGHT?

I abandon that deck too. The next place I end up in feels far more comfortable: “You want life insurance?”

“No.”

“Good. Double scotch please.”

I love the bar. It’s the only place on the ship with real character. Rock music blasts out on the jukebox. The walls are decorated with drawings of oceans and boats. And the lights are a cluster of colours – from sky blues and purples to umpodle and scoswiz, two new colours which were discovered twenty years ago. The colours are… Well, how do you describe a colour without attaching it to a physical form? Until Shakespeare is able to do so, I won’t try.

The bartender responds, “Sure thing.” He then heads to the back and yells “Kate!” before taking a long break. Longer than the two hours I’m in the bar for.

I clasp my eyes on Kate as she walks through the door. My word! It’s like an angel walking through the gates of heaven. With her long, luscious blonde hair, perfectly symmetrical face, beautiful glossy lips, curvy body, and the sort of breasts you could spend hours rubbing your face against…

On that basis, she’s the one.

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