Wednesday, July 12, 2006
I'm not going to complain about my limited time anymore because all of us have limited time. Sure, I wish it were only the name of Morris Day's backup band, but alas, it's this real thing that keeps moving forward, distracting and pushing us into activities that are clearly less vitally important to the world than keeping our blog current.
But time is something I'd wish more people would consider when they contemplate the remaking of a film.
I think it's clear by the ongoing Movies I Have No Intention Of Seeing series that the 1987 Elisabeth Shue magnum opus Adventures in Babysitting holds a special place close to my... let's say "heart."
I was 13 when that movie came out. Those newly awakened feelings of hyperventilating, squirming lust for a barely-teenaged male are about as much fun as a panic attack. But they tend to stick with you, as any unexpected trauma will. That film--innocent though it is--destroyed what little innocence was left in me. I remember sitting on a curb talking to my fellow street-hustlers later that week and they said they could see a change in me.
And now our friends at Disney want to remake Adventures in Babysitting starring Raven-Symone.
Look, I like Raven-Symone fine. She was fine when she was hired to replace Rudy when Rudy got too old to be cute on The Cosby Show. She's fine on her Disney Channel show That's So Raven. Oh, the comic misadventures of that poor, psychic girl...
But Raven-Symone, the little girl with the porn-star name, for all her gifts, is NOT Elisabeth Shue. This move amounts to sacrilege. The main problem is that this girl was born in 1985. I said 1985. Sure, she's legal and all, but I'm 32. I just won't be able to appreciate this film in nearly the same exhilarating, terrifying way I appreciated the first one.
When would the right time be to remake Adventures in Babysitting? I say at least have the decency to wait until Ms. Shue is dead. Spare the poor girl reprising her role the torture and humiliation of being compared to perfection, against which she can only fail.
Also, by then (God willing) I will be old and decrepit, my once-youthful vigor lost in a sea of pruney, sagging flesh and malfunctioning organs. Then I can watch a movie like that and enjoy it with the kind of age-based sexual inappropriateness the film and my memory (assuming it still operates) deserve.
My main problem is that this is clearly Disney's attempt to control this blog. If they think I'm changing the face of the Hot Babysitter Scale, they've got another thing coming. This blog is about nothing if not my personal integrity.
Unless there's some kind of stipend involved.
This post on the Narcissus Scale: 8.9
PS- Probably no Bucket tomorrow. You are warned.