Not surprisingly, a documentary on the word has the highest ‘fuck’ count. It will also shock no one that 24 of the 53 are from 1990 and on, and 26 are from 2000 and on — mainstream’fuck’ acceptance is a modern trend. Only Scarface, Born on the Fourth of July and Eddie Murphy: Raw represent the 80s (and how). Also featured: Quentin Tarantino (19, 20, 27), Martin Scorsese (3, 10, 25), Kevin Smith (22) and The Dude (1998), not to mention Eminem (42), 50 Cent (50) and, of course, Judd Apatow and Seth Rogen (53).
1. Fuck (2005) – 824 2. Nil by Mouth (1997) – 428 3. Casino (1995) – 398 4. Alpha Dog (2007) – 367 5. Twin Town (1997) – 318 6. Summer of Sam (1999) - 315 7. Running Scared (2006) – 315 8. Martin Lawrence Live: Runteldat (2002) – 311 9. Menace II Society (1993) – 300 10. Goodfellas (1990) – 300 11. Narc (2002) – 297 12. Harsh Times (2006) 296 13. Another Day in Paradise (1998) – 291 14. Made (2001) – 291 15. Dirty (2005) – 280 16. Jarhead (2005) – 278 17. Bully (2001) – 274 18. State Property 2 (2005) – 271 19. Reservoir Dogs (1992) – 269 20. Pulp Fiction (1994) – 265 21. The Big Lebowski (1998) – 260 22. Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back (2001) – 248 23. Dead Presidents (1995) – 247 24. The Boondock Saints (1999) – 239 25. The Departed (2006) – 237 26. Empire (2002) – 236 27. True Romance (1993) – 234 28. State of Grace (1990) – 230 29. My Name Is Joe (1998) 230 30. Gridlock’d (1997) 227 31. The Devil’s Rejects (2005) – 224 32. Eddie Murphy Raw (1987) – 223 33. Suicide Kings (1997) – 222 34. Black and White (1999) – 215 35. American History X (1998) – 214 36. The Original Kings of Comedy (2000) 213 37. Layer Cake (2005) 210 38. Scarface (1983) 207 39. Spun (2002) 203 40. A Bronx Tale (1993) 200 41. Foolish (1999) 200 42. 8 Mile (2002) 200 43. DysFunktional Family (2003) 200 44. I Got the Hook Up (1998) 197 45. Born on the Fourth of July (1989) – 196 46. Overnight (2003) – 191 47. Magnolia (1999) – 190 48. Monster (2003) – 187 49. Hustle and Flow (2005) – 186 50. Get Rich or Die Tryin’ (2005) 185 51. Formula 51 (2001) – 180 52. Flawless (1999) – 178 53. Superbad (2007) – 176
What do recent films Elephant, L’Enfant and 4 Months 3 Weeks 2 Days have in common other than official prestige, arthouse pedigree and meager following?The Palme D’Or, for one, highest prize of the Cannes International Film Festival. And, perhaps uncoincidentally, a certain style. They’re all day-in-the-life set-ups, quietly following a small cast of regular people in the middle of an individually dramatic but relatively innocuous personal crisis. They favor minimal background music, no-name or unprofessional actors and long, lingering shots that are less scenes than advancements in an on-going situation. If you want to stretch this observation to its thinnest (and I suppose I do, so I suppose I will), 1967 victor Blow-Up, 1974’s The Conversation, 1984’s Paris, Texas, 1989’s sex, lies and videotape and 1996’s Secrets and Lies fit various aspects of this general understated bill — perhaps the style is simply a long-term favorite of the Festival. But the last few years have been leaning so heavily towards this style of drama (when not pandering to Michael Moore) that were I an independent filmmaker, hell, I’d take note.
David Cronenberg knows what a badass looks like, thank you, and he’s not changing his paradigm for any actor. In A History of Violence, Ed Harris oils back his remaining hair and sports dark sunglasses inside with true gangster aplomb:
And who’s that up-standing young man about to serve the man coffee? Why, that’s Viggo Mortenson, pre-transformation into gangster Ed Harris:
Sure, their sharp chins and broad foreheads exaggerate the similarity, but you’ve got to wonder if this is how David Cronenberg suits up to make tough grimaces at the bathroom mirror.
Hopefully award season voters will overlook this costume department laziness when it comes time to remember Viggo’s spot-on Russian accent and (literally) balls-out bathhouse knife-fight. That scene’s lack of youtube-ization shocks me, quite frankly, because it’s an instant classic, too painful to actually watch the whole way through. Considering Viggo’s post-Lord of the Rings McDreamy status, you’ve got to applaud Cronenberg for gifting the hoards of teenage girls dying for a nude scene with the whole package in a bloody fight sequence that also includes copious face-stabbing. (And considering the high personal value of Viggo’s dangling goods, you’ve got to applaud that man’s sizable metaphorical cahones for agreeing to a fight sequence with knives.)
Someone lamented to me the other day that the mainstream these days just doesn’t do that old school southern-fried soul. I had four words for him: “Get thee to YouTube.” Here’s why:
Yes, this is 2002. Yes, this is American Idol. But Tamyra Gray’s got chops worth digging up from the YouTube graveyard and cementing as one of contemporary pop culture’s greatest missed opportunities. She was cruelly washed out of American Idol’s first season in fourth place and I accordingly stopped keeping real tabs on pop fare. Kelly Clarkson was perhaps a better pick for the masses anyway — last I checked, she’s doing fine, and kudos for the pipes she brought to “Since U Been Gone” — but Tamyra, abysmal wardrobe aside, is the real thing. Wikipedia reports that she’s currently playing Mimi on Broadway’s way-too-long-running RENT (and the only decent part of that self-absorbed musical bloat, I’ll wager), and I can’t imagine it’s the 28-year-old’s last bit in the spotlight.
Eventual Idol winner Jennifer Hudson may have somehow managed to bungle her way into an Oscar for Dreamgirls (and HOW?), but Tamyra’s rendition of “And I’m Telling You (I’m Not Going)” has Hudson way beat. It’s worth pointing out that this particular number was a ballsy song choice for a singing contest elimination round, but hey, brassiness never worked against the other Idols any.
