I’m rip roaring and raring to go on ‘0JAY8 like La Lohan on an extended weekend in Capri, so before a Celebritard does something so dissgrossting that I have to break my Lost Girls ban and dip into my bag of fake whore words to describe their actions (”whoreititude” being my current favs), let’s start launching some award bombs (be forwarned, this post is HUGE).

And away we go (Read the 2005 and 2006 YIF Awards post as a refresher to their awesomeness):

MOST OVERRATED MOVIE OF THE YEAR

Knocked Up – Universally loved by both sides of the Relationship Wars, personally loathed by this guy. As funny as it is to see Seth Rogen giggle like an idiot, smoke pot and heffalump all over that girl who used to be hot when she was on Roswell but now is a shrill harpy who’s about to banshee scream the awesome out of James Marsden in that exorable 27 Dresses abomination, I’d rather just watch the much better SSDD Judd Apatow manchild movie, The 40 Year-Old Virgin. Also, I liked it better when it was called Nine Months and it starred a far more charming bumbling idiot and a much better actress who was also slumming it in a lame romcom but still managed to show a modicum of gratitude for hit studio movie that launched her career, unlike some other wretched blonde yenta currently turning Grey’s Anatomy into a double-bloop fest. Yikes, this movie gives me the hatebumps. Apatow should have considered going to the Screenplay Smashmortion clinic and smashmortioning this twenty-minute too long unfunny fest like yesterday’s Spears bastard.

MOST UNDERRATED MOVIE OF THE YEAR

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix – Despite making nearly a gajillion dollars at the box office, I got the sense that most people considered this episode a toss-off. A hurdle they have to jump to get to the infinitely more awesome Half-Blood Prince and the revelatory Deathly Hallows. But let me learn you all an education, this may prove to be the most intelligent, well put-together flick of the bunch. Book Five was nearly unreadable. Two hundred pages too long, full of lame, angsty teen balderdash and an anti-climactic finale that didn’t advance the story enough to warrant the preceding 700 pages (we all knew Harry wasn’t gonna get to keep Sirius, the whole point of the series is that he stands alone). Too my surprise, I found the movie adaptation positively mesmerizing. From the totes sweet over the shoulder shaky dolly when Harry and Dudley are running from the storm, to the dark tunnel Dementor fight where Harry wielded his Patronus like some mighty Jedi. From the crazy evil child torture scenes to the ku-reep-E Brooks Brothers-clad Voldemort on the train platform fever dream. And that’s before I get to the wrenching “LOOK AT ME!” scene. This film was playing to win the game. They didn’t think it was a damn exhibition. I must not tell lies dear readers, The Order of the Phoenix pwned hard.

Hairspray – I genuinely don’t care about musicals and I’m even more indifferent to John Waters, so imagine my surprise when I popped in the DVD and found myself bopping my head like I was the Kattan Roxbury jagoff for two straight hours (him? you? me? me? no? heh?). Full of infectious energy and crazy slick choreography, I had a blast with this movie. I dug Travolta so much I even forgave him for Wild Hogs. But it was a tough decision. I mean he does wear a bandana through that pile of shite. A bandana. Seriously. On his head. For two hours. And it was intentional.

WORST ACTRESS IN AN OTHERWISE CRAPPY MOVIE

Kirsten Dunst, Spider-Man 3 – Tobey Maguire dyed his hair black, grew knock-off Petrelli-bangs and emo-Manero’d down the street in the most regoddamndiculously stupid sequence in blockbuster movie history and it was STILL not the worst musical number in the flick. That goes to Kristen Vampire Teeth McFlatboobs Dunst, who whilst singing in a play where she was the lead managed to sound like monkey shite even though she wasn’t actually doing the singing. Her performance was so terrible that the audience I saw the movie with actually applauded when Tobey decked her in that SECOND so so bad Dunst musical number. It was the one time in the movie where everyone got what they wanted: a scene where Tobey wasn’t weeping like a wee little girl and five fingers saying SLAP to the former Rancho Carne Cheer Captain who would NOT stop singing in the action-packed Comic Book movie.

WORST ACTOR IN AN OTHERWISE CRAPPY MOVIE

Tobey Maguire, Spider-Man 3 - Did I mention he cries through most of the movie and gay dances like Travolta in Staying Alive for the rest of it? Also, that he sucks? Oh I did? Good. I didn’t want to forget mentioning that he sucks.

WORST EXPERIENCE IN A MOVIE THEATER

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End - Not because of the actual movie, which was slightly better than Dead Man’s Chest, owing mainly to the Godzilla on Tokyo levels of kick ass rampage that is Chow Yun Fat, Keira Knightley in Asian Pirate fetish wear and Orlando Bloom getting dead, but because of how unbelievably long the movie was in relation to how much I had to pee. I was in the center row center seat of a sold out 400 seat theater and had to go pretty hard starting in minute 17. It was not pleasant. Here was a brief summary of events.

17:00 - Damn, gotta yazzer. I think can hold it, it doesn’t seem too bad.

24:00 - Maybe loosen the belt loop up one.

32:00 - Might be wrong about this. . .

46:00 - Shifty.

58:00 - Crap all, there’s ninety more minutes left!! How much more “Yargh-ing” can they do?

1:05:00 - Yayayayayayayayayay.

1:17:00 - If I hold my junk any more people are gonna think I’m actually enjoying the movie. Must be strong.

1:29:00 - And there goes the belt and top button.

1:46:00 - Starting to get numb.

1:53:00 - Slouchy slouchy, calm the belly.

2:06:00 - JUST FUCKING END ALREADY!!!!! Awesome effects and all, but can we just kill the Bloom already so I can save my kidneys?

2:15:00 - And my pants are officially off.

2:36:00 - Thank Jeebus it’s over. I survived. Eye of the Tiger saved me again!

2:45:00 - I will RAIN FIRE on you Valley bitches if you don’t leave the theater FUCKING FASTER!

2:49:00 - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

2:53:00 - Wait. Waitwait. Ye… wha… more… AHHHHHHH!

2:56:00 - Jimmy Dugan ain’t got nuthin on me!

THE TAINTED MEMORIES AWARD A.K.A. WORST SEQUEL OF THE YEAR

Live Free or Die Hard - Psych! Trick award, fools. This movie ruled! I was skeptical. I thought it would be a whole bunch of man ass. But it turned out to be a whole bunch of man awesome (yeah, that just happened). I was cool with bald McClane. I was cool with him Supermannig the fighter jet. I was cool with villainous plot. I was SuperCool with Mary Elizabeth Winstead. And I was Super-Sized cool with Maggie Q. Hell, I was even straight with Mac Guy Sidekick (which bodes well for Villa De La Beouf in Indy 4). I missed a Hans-level bad guy and I hated John not dropping F-bombs everywhere, but kids, it could have been A LOT worse.

MOST UNFORTUNATE THIRD ACT FLOP OF THE YEAR

I Am Legend - So how come the Fresh Prince left his interesting character study to walk onto the set of a bad Sci-Fi network zombie flick? Did the producers refuse to let him drop a “Ah, hell no!”? Were they blocking him from getting jiggy with it? These are things we need to know!

MOST DISAPPOINTING MOVIE OF THE YEAR

TMNT - Sarah Michelle Gellar should never be prominently involved with ANYTHING from my childhood ever again. I swear to Xenu I will burn my Buffy box set if she even blinks in the direction of Cheetarah and the Thundercats. Dude, I miss Ninja Rap. (Go ninja! Go ninja! Go!)

EIGHTH SIGN OF THE APOCALYPSE A.K.A MOST SURPRISING PERFORMANCE OF THE YEAR

Ben Affleck, Director, Gone Baby Gone - A subtle, powerful, beautifully photographed debut from the man who was the bomb in Phantoms, yo! I never had my doubts that he’d be a good movie director, but I never imagined he’d be that good. Wisely letting Ed Harris chew the scenery like they were yesterday’s egg bagels. Shooting close-ups all over the preternaturally pretty Michelle Monaghan. The brilliant credits sequence that established the reality of the Boston streets better than Mystic River could even dream of. Not to mention pulling an Oscar-worthy performance out of Amy Ryan. And that’s before talking about Morgan Freeman’s nuanced work and Casey Affleck’s surprise work as a commanding leading man. I’d love to have The Fleck in front of camera again, but I just may want him to stay behind it, more.

WEIRDEST MOVIE COUPLE OF THE YEAR

Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts, Charlie Wilson’s War - There’s just something inherently creepy watching the Pretty Woman grab Forrest Gump’s ass. And something totally gross seeing Erin Brockovich and the voice of Woody, post-coital. I usually love seeing mega-stars onscreen together. But in this case I just wanted it to go away so I could see Phillip Seymour Hoffman cuss some more.

THE JOHN TRAVOLTA AWARD FOR ONE TIME BIG NAMED ACTOR WHO IS SOOOO OVER!

Anthony Hopkins - He’s now repeating himself worse than Tommy Lee Jones, and I’m pretty sure Tommy Lee Jones was actually credited as playing “Tommy Lee Jones” in that last Paul Haggis travesty. Ryan Gosling blew him off the screen in Fracture. It wasn’t even close. The Washington Generals put up more of a fight than Hopkins did. And with Anton Chigurh taking Hannibal’s mantle of most awesome screen villain we secretly love, what does Hopkins have to play for? Time to pack it in and start considering begging Aaron Sorkin to do a Welsh version of The West Wing.

THE “YES, YES YOU’RE BOTH HOT, NOW SHUT UP AND GO AWAY” AWARD

Tie - Jessica Alba and Scarlet Johansson - I was thinking about this the other day while I was checking Alba off the list of girls I am attracted to (The Jay does not date girls with baggage. And by “baggage” I mean “intentional career-boosting celeb babies fathered by doofy civilians”), when was the last time either girl gave pop culture anything worthwhile beyond an occasional sex-A magazine photo spread? Match Point belonged to Woody Allen. And The Prestige was about Bale and Jackman. Lost in Translation was nearly five years ago. As for Alba, she was the worst thing about a bad FF sequel. She did a Dane Cook movie this year. Which, hello, pretty much forces me to stricken from the record her bra and panties work in Idle Hands. And she refused to go topless playing a stripper in a graphic novel adaptation. In my boy mind, they are both dead to me until one of them drops an intentional nipple in an indie flick or I get more from them than lame-ass Paul Walker action flicks and sub par Woody Allen movies.

THE “WHO CARES?” AWARD FOR THE MOVIE ABSOLUTELY NO ONE WANTED TO SEE

Rush Hour 3 - Did anyone in the world need more of this nonsense? Did anyone in the world even notice than Chris Tucker dropped off the face of the Earth? Does anyone in the world really care about the words coming out of their mouths?

THE OFFICIAL “JANEANE GAROFALO PLEASE FIRE YOUR AGENT RIGHT NOW, OR AT THE VERY LEAST, PLEASE STOP SAYING YES TO EVERY SINGLE MOVIE OFFER YOU GET” AWARD

Nicolas Cage - I’ve already written at length about the CageMatch this year, so I’ll keep this brief. Nic should only make really absurd indie movies and National Treasure sequels. Any time someone asks him to play anyone with long hair, superpowers, a dysfunctional family not played for laughs, or a guy that has to say the words “Why’d it get burned?”, he should run the other way. Fast. Fast enough to rip his toupee off.

THE BEEN THERE, DONE THAT AWARD FOR BEING THERE AND HAVING DONE THAT

The Heartbreak Kid - Yes yes, we get it Ben Stiller, you are neurotic and awkward with insanely hot, out of your league girls. Stop complaining about having to bang a batshit crazy Malin Akerman before you turn into the Simian-looking older man version of Zach Braff. And as for the Farrelly Brothers, unless Matt Damon has a mortgage payment and agrees to a Stuck On You sequel, ya’ll can STFU and put down the movie camera. Gross out comedies haven’t been popular since Jason Biggs. And Jason Biggs was never popular.

BEST INTERSPECIES EROTICA SCENE

Phillip Seymour Hoffman doggstyling Marissa Tomei, Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead - More on this in a moment…

BEST EXCUSE TO WILLINGLY HAND OVER TEN DOLLARS

Tie - Keri Russell in Waitress and Megan Fox in Transformers - My number one celebrity crush (despite having a half civilian half celebrity baby… a celivibaby?), was beyond reason fantastic playing a small town pie maker. I could watch her whisk chocolate for eight life times. And I could listen to her banter with Nathan Fillion in that wonderfully lyrical cadence until I ruined the spindles on my ears like a ten year old VHS player.

And as for Megan Fox, um, well, look at her:

BEST USE OF GRATUITOUS (BUT COMPLETELY LAUDED BY EVERY GEEK ON THE INTERNET) NUDITY BY A BIG NAME ACTRESS THAT EVERY MALE UNDER FORTY HAS BEEN DYING TO SEE NAKED

Marissa Tomei, Before the Devil Knows Your Dead - She was always a hottie, but never in that “I MUST see her nipples immediately” kind of way. She was more sultry sexy. Jersey sexy. The kind of sexy where we dug seeing her in purple lycra showing how her biological clock is “ticking like this” or sweetly falling for Christian Slater and his untamed pig heart, but never where we would drive twenty miles out of our way on the rumor that she went topless in a Gothic Southern flick directed by Sam Raimi. So how were we to know how utterly delicious she looked without her clothes on? And after all these years, even! Her body was so smokin hot its mere presence negated the retina-searing image PSH throw his freckled ass all over the medium shot. Hell, it might be the only acceptable reason to ever see PSH’s ass. Lemme put it this way… Marissa Tomei in Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead was eight Megan Fox’s hotter than Diane Lane in Unfaithful. True Story.

BEST REASON TO HAVE YOUR OWN POP CULTURE SITE TO MAKE FUN OF STUFF

Getting to drop the post title “Alvin and the Shitmunks” and make my mom laugh at it.

THE 2007 FILM I WILL NEVER EVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE SEE. EVER.

P.S. I Love You - Which I believe I’ve already covered.

MY FAVORITE MOVIE POSTERS OF THE YEAR

THE JAY’S PICKS FOR THE BEST “B” MOVIES OF 2007

Let’s drop some math to explain these:

1. Shooter - Marky Mark + Smart Action x Kate Mara in a see-thru shirt = The Very Definition of Awesome Sunday Afternoon TNT New Classic.

2. Superbad - “Fellashe” + The Jay = Overused movie quote of the year.

3. Ocean’s Thirteen - George Clooney’s Stache / No Julia Roberts x Matt Damon’s Nose - Don Cheadle in an Evel Knievel costume = Crap in a can, that threequel rocked!

4. Balls of Fury - Maggie Q in booty shorts + Christopher Walken imitating Christopher Walken = A missed opportunity for greatness, but thanks all the same for giving Jason Scott Lee some work.

5. Shoot Em Up - Clive Owen with guns + Monica Bellucci with tits + Paul Giamatti with villainy = Geek Splooge.

THE FIVE WORST PIECES OF CRAP I SAW IN 2007

1. Spider-Man 3.
2. Vacancy
3. The Reaping
4. Ghost Rider
5. License To Wed

And finally…

THE JAY’S TOP TEN MOVIES OF 2007

1. Atonement
2. No Country For Old Men
3. The Bourne Ultimatum
4. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
5. Waitress
6. Juno
7. The Darjeeling Limited
8. Gone Baby Gone
9. Hairspray
10. There Will Be Blood

Bangarang!

So People Magazine has named Matt Damon 2007’s “Sexiest Man Alive”. Which I guess is a fine choice if you like pig-nosed frat boy looking dudes who happen to play bad ass amnesiac spies. I’m a fan of the guy (and it should probably be stated, completely straight), but let’s get real, he’s not better looking than Clooney, Depp or Jude, he just put out a few good movies this year. Also, it was his turn as per the Ocean’s Eleven Collective Sexiest Cast Agreement (if they do a Fourteen, it’s Cheadle’s turn).

The award itself has always gotten way too much press for no particular reason (cause who’s judging this thing, Perez Hilton?), and the distinction is pretty arbitrary (after all, Nick Nolte has one of these). It’s usually nothing more than an opportunity to go on Letterman and make fun of the other guys in the running (this was the sole reason Clooney won last year), and since that’s not even possible this year, the award is especially meaningless. But I guess I gotta be happy for Matt Damon (MATT DAMON!). Bourne Ultimatum was a sweet, sweet flick, he was enjoyable in a rejuvenated Ocean’s Thirteen, he does a hilarious Matthew McConaughey impression and it just makes karmic sense that if Affleck has one of these, Damon needs one too.

And just for funsies:

But what really interests me is not why Damon won, but why everyone else didn’t. So I compiled a list of potential cover boys and tried to come up with a solid excuse for why each of them lost to the star of Stuck On You. Here’s what I came up with:

Brad Pitt – Sexiest Man Alive status called into question as his face is looking more and more like a leather sofa with a bit too much water damage.

Ben Affleck – After already having won the award, did his BFF a favor by graciously bowing out of the race and instead focusing on tagging his hot spy wife, raising his kid, making the best crime drama of the last half decade, and not being a tool. Was a wise choice.

Benicio Del Toro – Maybe if this was People’s “Most Disheveled Man Alive” Award.

Dane Cook – Was in the running until the judges looked at a picture of him, and immediately horked the chicken caeser wraps they had for lunch.

Mark Wahlberg – Did not have a movie to promote, so hence did not win. Also, layout artists for the mag were worried they wouldn’t be able to fit his gihugenormous maw on the cover and no one wanted to fit the bill for a double fold. However, if his M. Night Shyamalan flick scores big next summer, you’re looking at the 2008 winner.

Tom Cruise – Not with that new pageboy haircut he’s rocking. Also, still batshit crazy, which is a rather unavoidable sexiness detraction.

Jonah Hill – Deserved serious consideration if only for coining the mighty phrase “fellashe”, which I totally ninja yoinked from Superbad.

Antonio Banderas - No, no, too sexy, TOO SEXY!

Daniel Radcliffe – A shoo-in for the 2010 crown after he throws down with Voldemort and swerves on surprise hottie “Your Wands To Measly For” Ginny Weasley, in the Deathly Hallows movie,.

Seth Rogen – He tagged Katherine Hiegl in Knocked Up and become an international star; at this point, anything is possible. He could win Mr. Olympia and I wouldn’t be surprised. I’d just be like: “Good Front Lat Spread, sloppy guy who inexplicably nailed Izzie Stevens and learned a valuable, but only slightly funny, lesson in responsibility.”.

Ben Stiller – Simian-looking comedians with an ever-decreasing oeuvre of quality movies need not apply.

Justin Timberlake – Judgment of sexiness still in question from his decision to journey through Cameron Diaz’s Hugemongus Mouth for an extended period of time. Recent excursions through Scarlet Johansson Ave. and Jessica Biel Blvd. are a step in the right direction, though. A quick jaunt through Jessica Alba Lane and he’ll be on the fast track for the 2009 crown.

Jason Statham – Kickass bald action stars get no respect.

Bruce Willis – See above.

Patrick Dempsey – Taken off the list when voters remembered how bloody intolerable and douchebaggy Dr. McDreamy was last season on Grey’s. He should have let Meredith drown.

Jake Gyllenhaal – This isn’t a contest for The Advocate, let’s get real.

Hilary Swank – Not technically a man. Though I’ve never actually seen evidence proving that fact.

Tim Riggins – Too drunk to remember to submit his application. Also, too busy playing Y Tu Mama Tambien with Jason Street and Lyla Garrity.

Samuel L. Jackson – I blame those motherfucking snakes on that motherfucking plane, cause no one has ever looked sexier chaining a sex-crazed Christina Ricci to a radiator, whilst rocking a bald head and grey mutton chops. Okay, maybe Esquire’s Sexiest Woman on the Planet (seriously?), Charlize Theron, for the five minutes in Monster before you realized you just could NOT get past the fact that she was playing a psychotic she-bitch with bad teeth and a Britney pooch.

Criss Angel – Douchebag manscara wearers need not apply. Also, too much skeevy association with wrecked blonde girls (see: Spears, Britney and Diaz, Cameron).

Peter Petrelli – Would have been an awesome choice, despite being fictional and currently stuck in an unwatchable season of Heroes.

Gerald Butler – Had the inside running until grumblings about his 300 abs being digitally enhanced bogged down his candidacy. When informed of the decision, Butler kicked the Editor-in-Chief of People down a large well and yelled “THEY’RE! REAL! AND! THEY’RE! SPECTAAAAAAACULAR!”

Kiefer Sutherland – Might have had a chance if his show hadn’t sucked this year, and he didn’t spend all his off-time getting ripped and jumping into Christmas trees.

Clive Owen – No idea why he didn’t win. I mean, did you see Children of Men? He survived multiple gun battles, delivered a baby, protected a mother and child in a war zone, took a bullet to the stomach and STILL rescued humanity. How is Jason Bourne cooler than that? Not to mention him tagging Monica Bellucci and pwning it up in those insane gun fights in Shoot ‘Em Up. And no one on the planet drops a “fucking cunt” bomb better than him. Which goes a long way in my book. This should have been the guy.

Orlando Bloom – Technically not considered a real “man”. But he has the Kids People “Sexiest Bland Pussy Boy Alive” Award in the bag!

Bangarang!

This is the fourth definition listed in the Urban Dictionary under the term “tool”:

“A person, typically male, who says or does things that cause you to give them a ‘what-are-you-even-doing- here’ look. The ‘what-are-you-even-doing- here’ look is classified by a glare in the tool’s direction and is usually accompanied by muttering of how big of a tool they are. The tool is usually someone who is unwelcome but no one has the balls to tell them to get lost. The tool is always making comments that are out-of-place, out-of-line or just plain stupid. The tool is always trying too hard to fit in, and because of this, never will.?

Here is my definition of the term “tool”:

“Carson Daly”

Now, which of those definitions applies to Ben Affleck? I say neither.

People who watch Orlando Bloom act and find him to be bland have sufficient reason for feeling so. Fact is he’s bland; there is a void of charisma when he’s on screen. Low-minded people who think Keanu Reeves is a sucky actor could probably make a case that there have been a few bad performances in The One’s illustrious oeuvre (Dracula comes to mind). Britney detractors could form a solid argument on her lack of singing ability simply by having eyes, ears, taste and an aversion to Cheetos dust (the last one is harder than you’d think).

But where do people get off thinking Ben Affleck is a tool?

Is he the best actor in Hollywood? No, far from it (though he has gotten good reviews before, hello Changing Lanes). Has he been involved in a completely annoying celebrity couple? Absolutely, but Bennifer was no more or less intolerable than Brangelina, Vaughniston, TomKat or Nick and Jessica. Has he made way too much money starring in a slew of crappy movies? I think Forces of Nature, Surviving Christmas, Paycheck, Man About Town, Bounce, Reindeer Games and Pearl Harbor speak for themselves. But has he really done ANYTHING worthy of lumping him in with Carson Daly, K-Fed, Criss Angel and any white guy out on the town in a striped shirt? I aim to prove he hasn’t.

It’s a hard climb to the top of “Ben Affleck is NOT a tool” Mountain, so let me get the biggest obstacle out of the way right now: Gigli.

Picture this: You’re a well-known talent in Hollywood. A producer comes to you and says “Hey guy, I have a movie for you. It’s a love story between you and Jennifer Lopez where you get to make out with her on set and watch her do yoga in booty shorts. But you’re also a gangster, so you’re gritty and tough and get to rough people up. We got Al Pacino coming in to yell at you in a scene and be creepy. And we’re flying in Christopher Walken to do one of his patented loopy speeches while you writhe on the floor in pain cause he just shot you. It’ll be just like that awesome scene in True Romance. Marty Brest is directing. He’s done Beverly Hills Cop and Midnight Run, and he got Pacino his only Oscar. Also, we’re gonna pay you TEN MILLION DOLLARS!” What do you say to that? You’re saying hell yes!

So Gigli is not his fault. He’s looking a lot less tool-y now, isn’t he?

You can’t say he’s untalented. Despite what urban myths would say, he wrote an Academy Award-winning screenplay. That happened. He’s won several significant awards for acting. And his directorial debut, “Gone Baby Gone” is getting filthy good reviews. I saw it and thought it was light years better than Mystic River (mostly because at no point in the movie did anyone melodrama into the camera “IS DAT MY DADER IN DERE????”). So the only real reason you could call him a tool is because of his relationship with J. Lo. Take that way (and I’ll explain why you can in just a minute) and the only mark is a few bad movies. If making a few bad movies makes you a tool than you can slap that label on George Clooney (The Peacemaker), Matt Damon (The Legend of Bagger Vance), Johnny Depp (Secret Window), Jude Law (his entire 2004 slate), and pretty much any male actor who’s toplined a few movies in his career.

Fact is Ben Affleck gets a bad wrap because he’s a fun, funny guy who dated one wrong girl, made a few bad movies and was a bit too omnipresent a few years back. I say he’s also made a slew of great movies, always makes me laugh on SNL, learned from his mistakes and settled down away from the tabloids with a nice girl and is well-liked by all his peers. For that and the following forty reasons, I think it’s preposterous to call my boy Affleck a tool. Let me prove it to you…

35 Reasons Why Ben Affleck Is NOT A Tool

1. The man has a very good chick stock portfolio. He sold high on Gwyneth, broke even on J.Lo and picked up a very dependable Jen Garner IRA. And he was never tempted by a risky celebritard-IPO (Britney, Lindsay, Paris, Brittany Murphy).

2. Created Project Greenlight as a way to develop new filmmakers. Not his fault that the contest winners sucked balls and their movies polluted theaters and DVD shelves worse than Forces of Nature. Although Gulager was fun to watch in a rubbernecking traffic accident kind of way.

3. Nominated for a Golden Globe for his role as George Reeves in Hollywoodland. Won the Best Actor Award at the Venice Film Festival for the same performance. Not to mention getting rave reviews for his work in Changing Lanes, Shakespeare in Love, Chasing Amy and Smoking Aces. So you all can shove it with that “crappy actor” nonsense. Have you ever thought it might not be him, but instead be the movie, or the director? I swear, Ben could be Keanu’s spiritual cousin.

4. Unlike, some other fake sports bigamists (ahem, unfunny Dane Cook), Affleck is actually a TRUE fan of his favorite sports team (the Red Sox, if you didn’t know).

5. Gave us the chance to see Ed Harris and Morgan Freeman chew scenery together in Gone Baby Gone. Gotta love that.

6. He’s not nearly as skeezy or douchebaggery as Colin Farrell, a guy who’s made just as many awful movies as the Fleck (Hart’s War, Ask The Dust, Miami Vice, Alexander, American Outlaws).

7. More on the point of acting, a person’s relative talent level is fairly fact based. Either he’s good or he isn’t. But that has no relation to his relative tool level, which is entirely subjective. So he not being great in a couple of movies has no bearing on his perception of being a tool. I don’t judge Carson Daly’s toolishness on his Last Call monologue. I judge his toolery on his poser black fingernails, his manorexia, his goofball name, his propensity for dating idiots (hey Tara Reid!), and the fact that, you know, he’s a tool.

8. Can speak extemporaneously on a wide-range of topics, which makes him light years ahead of most of his Hollywood generation, and a good portion of our government officials. And by “a good portion”, I mean our President.

9. Gave his kid a relatively normal name (“Violet”). It could have been worse. His Chasing Amy co-star Jason Lee named his kid “Pilot Inspektor”. Hell, his ex named her kid “Apple”.

10. Brought his Mom to the Oscars when he won for Good Will Hunting. That’s class, kids, c’mon!

11. Made a tightly-constructed, soulful, gripping detective movie starring a group of fantastic actors and never once called attention to his personal baggage in the process. In other words, is not Bret Ratner.

12. Harrison Ford signed off on Affleck replacing him in the Jack Ryan series. If he’s good enough for Han Solo and Indiana Jones, he’s good enough for me.

13. Why is he a tool because his head and face are kinda simian-esque? McConaughey has T-rex arms. Damon has a fratboy pig nose. Brad Pitt is notoriously smelly. Orlando Bloom is a chick. Keanu is grody to the max. But Affleck is a tool because he has a square jaw? I don’t get it.

14. Even if he DOES wear a hairpiece, who cares? So have Sean Connery, Burt Reynolds, and Bruce Willis, and those guys rule.

15. Like Brad, Matt, George, Matthew or Jude was gonna pull off the animal crackers scene in Armageddon, any better? He had to drag crackers across Liv Tyler’s pudge and make it look sexy. That’s a Herculean task. Laurence Olivier would have been flummoxed. Cary Grant would have called in a stunt double.

16. Campaigns excessively for the Democratic Party, but never once comes off like a Baldwinian hypocrite-twit. Spends time at phone banks doing voter registration, makes speeches at rally’s and works to diminish lobby-influence on politicians. Said this about his own political aspirations: “My fantasy is that someday I’m independently wealthy enough that I’m not beholden to anybody, so I can run for Congress on the grounds that everyday people — be they singers or poets or bankers or lawyers or teachers — should be in government.” That’s honest activism I can get behind.

17. And is an actual TRUE activist, not to mention a good sport.

18. Morgan Freeman likes him (and he’s God!). That’s enough for me.

19. The man may not have the most range, but he can pull off a speech. A couple more You Tube-worthy monologues and he might just be our next Alec Baldwin.

20. Deflected most of the Bennifer hatred by immediately dropping off the tabloid circuit the minute he cut ties with La Lopez. Makes you wonder how much of the Bennifer nonsense was J.Lo’s fault, and not his. After all, do you EVER read Ben and Jen Garner pieces in Us Weekly? (see, I told you I had a good reason for eliminating this foible)

21. And now shows contrition for the hoopla surrounding that relationship and the negative impact it had on his acting career. Contrition! Would a true tool show contrition? I don’t see K. Fed apologizing for Britney. Or Carson Daly apologizing for himself.

22. This is from a report of Ben Affleck at the debut of his wife, Jennifer Garner, on Broadway with Cyrano De Bergerac: “Ben Affleck fought back tears of pride as he jumped to his feet to give his actress wife Jennifer Garner a standing ovation at the close of her official first night on Broadway recently.” The man loves his celebrity wife. How often is that true. Did K-Fed ever cry tears of pride when “Toxic” came on the radio? Does Chris Martin get teary when he watches Gwyneth be bitchy onscreen? Did Ryan Phillipe ever go ballistic in support when Reese would win an award? OK, that last one happened, but only because he was drunk. And is an idiot.

23. Is a great sport about people making fun of him. Example 1: The SNL Mango “Ben Whoffleck” sketch. Example 2: South Park’s skewering of Bennifer: “Taco flavored kisses for my Ben!”

24. Is an open and generous supporter of his homosexual cousin Jason, and has done work for the organization “Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays”. That puts him ahead of Kevin Spacey in my book.

25. Is considered one of the most loyal actors in Hollywood; why else would he agree to do Jersey Girl?

26. Speaking of, can laugh at his own limitations: Apple Sauce, BITCH!

27. His directorial debut was a short film titled “I Killed My Lesbian Wife, Hung Her On A Meat Hook, and Now I Have A Three-Picture Deal At Disney”. C’mon, that’s just awesome!

28. Was named People Magazine’s 2002 Sexiest Man Alive. George Clooney’s won twice. So have Brad Pitt and Richard Gere. McConaughey and Damon both have one win. So why is Affleck the tool in the bunch? They’ve all done their share of shitty movies and dated their share of questionable women. At least Affleck has the good grace to seem bemused by the whole thing.

29. His work as Big Bad Donnie Bartalotti in the Boston Teens sketches on SNL. (“I would never zap your lady. For serious, bro!”)

30. If you’ve never heard him do an audio commentary before, remedy that ASAP. He makes sitting through Pearl Harbor a breeze. I particularly like his commentaries for Chasing Amy (“I put on a clinic and my skills are free.”) and Mallrats.

31. Sure he’s made some shitty movies, but hell, it’s not like he’s Nicolas Cage!

32. Just to insure that his stint in rehab for alcoholism would stick, Affleck had legendary abuser Charlie “Ma” Sheen drive him to rehab. The MaSheen behind the wheel would get me to quit drinking, let me tell you. Moreover, has not publicly relapsed like some other celebrities we know and love (ahem, Lindsay). (btw, can you imagine the stories MaSheen must have told him to help him quit drinking. I quote John Turturro from Mr. Deeds: “The hideousness of [MaSheen] will haunt my dreams forever”.)

33. Has realized his time as a bankable leading man have passed him, and wisely decided to do smaller roles in cool ensemble films. Affleck is much more tolerable and likeable in small doses. And with a handlebar mustache (see Aces, Smoking).

34. Started supporting the non-profit organization A-T Childrens Project after he befriended Joe Kindregan, a wheelchair-bound child diagnosed with ataxia-telangiectasia, a rare genetic disease that causes neurological deterioration. Goes above and beyond to improve Joe’s quality of life, including paying for medical bills, taking him to premieres, and sending his family on vacations. Affleck even lobbied Congress for increased research funding. We call Tom Cruise a hero for changing some schmoe’s tire. Affleck is changing this kid’s life. Let’s show some respect.

35. You gotta admit that, regardless of everything else, he was the bomb in Phantoms, yo!

Bangarang!

I love me a good motto. I love mottos even better when I can steal them from pop culture. Whether it’s Nicolas Cage’s “B.A.D. - Balls Attitude Direction” from Kiss of Death, “A.A. – Attitude Adjustment” from Rad, or my personal favorite “F.U.B.A.R.” from Tango and Cash, I like to yoink them all for my own personal abbreviated vocabulary. And I’m always on the lookout for a new one; which is why I was only too happy to see Britney Spears recently get in on the motto act.

In one her recent trips to court (for her kids, or her hit n’ runs, or her drug problems, or her communism or whatever), she inexplicably walked up to a reporter and yelled out “Ride, Lick it, Snort it, Fuck it!” and walked away. Now we could go on ad nauseum aover what possessed her to take focus away from her losing custody battle, her possibly getting her license suspended, her maybe getting jail time (which she probably should do at some point), to serve up some juicy grist for her trashy celebritard mill. But we’re not going to. Least of all because I promised not too, but mainly because, who cares? She’s retarded. And not in the mentally handicapped way, I mean she’s an idiot. You can’t put logic or reason behind the actions of an idiot. She dated Criss Angel, for chrissakes, how can we take anything she does seriously? We can’t. But what can do is laud her for awesome motto construction.

Those four words perfectly encapsulate her every waking moment, thereby making the motto a spot on phrase for the way she should live her life. For just one moment, she might have been the most clear, prescient celebrity in a three block radius (assuming Hasselhoff wasn’t around the corner getting drunk and spilling his Whopper Jr. everywhere.). If more celebrities took the time to create a motto about their particular brand of celebridom, it would go a long way to making us like them more. Not that that’s actually going to happen.

Since Britney (bitch!) is the only celebrity with the crazy stones to break themselves down motto-listically, I’ve taken the time to come up with some choice abbreviations for some of the biggest names in Hollywood. With any luck, they’ll be coked out of their minds at the county courthouse one day soon, yelling out the motto I created for them, and then retreating back inside to have their life ripped apart while they worry about when they’ll next get the chance to hit up Taco Bell. An internet humorist can dream…

Other Celebrity Motto’s (in Britney-specific format)

Lindsay Lohan: Drink it, Drug it, Rehab it, Repeat it!

Mel Gibson: Slur it, Jew it, Blame it, Sugartit it!

Tom Cruise: Ensnare it, Contract it, Publicize it, Fake it!

Angelina Jolie: Act it, Homewreck it, Adopt it, Pouty-Lip it!

Bruce Willis: Yippe it, Kay it, Yay it, Motherfucker it!

Keanu Reeves: Whoa it, whoa it, WHOA it, Whoa it?

Orlando Bloom: Act it, Bland it, Bore it, Snore it!

Jennifer Aniston: Oprah it, Vanity Fair it, People it, Milk it!

Ben Affleck: Date it, Act it, Fail it, Direct it!

Kiefer Sutherland: Scream it, Torture it, DUI it, Christmas Tree-Jump it!

David Hasselhoff: Hassel it, Hoff it, Drunk it, Record it!

Nicole Kidman: Curly it, Straighten it, Botox it, Shrill it!

Will Ferrell: Naked it, Baby Jesus it, Cowbell it, Burgundy Done it!

Michael Douglas: Lift it, Tuck it, Botox it, Zeta-Jones it!

Neil Patrick Harris: NPH it, Legen it, Wait it, DAIRY it!

Matthew McConaughey: Crunch it, Tan it, Lance it, Gylleenhall it!

Kiera Knightley: Lemonface it, Lionface it, Bitter Beer Face it, Bitch Face it!

Morgan Freeman: Narrate it, Gravitas it, Charisma it, God it!

Jennifer Lopez: Act it, Sing it, Spanish it, No One Likes it!

Scarlet Johansson: Lip It, Cleavage It, Blonde It, Is That It?

Bangarang!

(NOTE: This column was originally written in 2002, to commemorate the release of Star Wars Episode II - Attack of the Clones. In honor of the release of Live Free or Die Hard I am re-publishing it as a tribute to the man who started my love for waiting in line for movies. The man, the myth, the Bruno, Mr. Bruce Willis. I can’t wait to come full circle and stand in line for a Die Hard movie, one more time…)

The date had been embedded in my mind for months: July 4, 1990. On a Wednesday in the middle of an unusually hot summer, Die Hard 2: Die Harder would be released to the public. The first film, Die Hard, had quickly become a family favorite amongst me and my two brothers. We had seen the film countless times, reciting racy lines of dialogue and reenacting brutal violence at an age when we should have been playing baseball, not terrorist and hero cop. When the release date of the film was set, our house went into a collective frenzy. There was no doubt in our minds what we were going to do the night of July 4th. Forget barbeques or baseball games, if it did not entail Bruce Willis fighting terrorists, we were not interested.

The days leading up to the opening night were agonizingly slow. The commercials advertising the film only served to increase my frustration of not having seen the film. The day finally arrived, filled with joy and the feeling of vindication. My patience would finally be rewarded. Little did I know, trouble was brewing. My mother was called into a late evening meeting, we would not make the 7:30 p.m. showing. Ordinarily this would not be a problem since most films have multiple showings on any given night. Die Hard 2, however, was a longer film than most. My local cinema, the only one playing the film, was airing only two screenings, one at 7:30 and the other at 10:45 p.m. My mom arrived home at 8:30, and we commiserated on our misfortune. Being only nine years old, my strict bedtime of 9:30 p.m. would not be wavered, even by the rogue charms of Mr. Willis. I was well aware that the film would be playing in theaters for the duration of the summer and beyond, but my desire to experience the film “right now” was too overwhelming. Clever use of a guilt-trip sullied my mother’s defenses and soon we were off waiting in line for the late show.

It was my first experience seeing a movie that late; my eyes were wide with excitement and energy. The line extended around the back of the theater but no one felt inconvenienced; they all shared my deep rooted love for this film franchise. They let us in at 10:15, and I could barely contain myself. A nine-year old ball of energy, up way past his bedtime, waiting to see Bruce Willis save the world. The lights went down, and I was hooked.

Even at such a young age, I could feel the power of the opening night. At no other time is the energy as high, the audience as passionate, or the experience as genuine. My need to see movies on opening night became an obsession I have been feeding since that fateful Independence Day. My movie-going life was changed, and film’s place in my social life was forever altered. I blame it all on Bruce Willis.

The years passed, and the opening night experiences grew in number. Braveheart, summer of 1995. Watching the movie we all knew what was happening. The first night of the film’s release and we could all sense it. We were watching a Best Picture in the making, and no one else knew. Then, Apollo 13, just a few weeks later. The air-conditioning in the theater turned up so high, I felt as if I was the one trapped in space.

November 1, 1996. Throngs of pre-pubescent and newly adolescent teenagers pack an unsuspecting local movie theater, awaiting the release of the highly anticipated re-imagining of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. I was fifteen, anxious, and surrounded by braces and Clearasil as far as the eye could see. The theater had underestimated the film’s appeal, and chose to screen the film in a theater two sizes too small. Teens were turned back at the door, openly crying at the thought of a Leonardo-less Friday night. As the 7:30 p.m. mark moved ever closer, the theater began to hum with the excitement. Six hundred adolescents giddy at the prospect of watching two hours of spastic, tragic Shakespeare. When Leonardo’s face first appeared on-screen relationships ended. Girls openly wept and their dates hid in their seats. This was not a film screening, it was hormonal torture.

On another end of the spectrum was the Friday late show of Michael Mann’s sprawling L.A. crime thriller, Heat. On an atypically scorching December evening, I decided to turn my opening night obsession into a sociological experiment. The Oxy pad crowd of Romeo and Juliet had taught me that certain sects of people would only attend certain movies at specific times. To this end, I decided to forego the usual mid-evening show, and instead see the final show of the night.

Returning to the conversations heard in my Die Hard line roots, I anticipated a crowd of film-loyalists; pretentious movie-lovers spouting home-made philosophies on the merits of Pulp Fiction as a new filmic-religion. What I got, however, was a collection of individuals so contrary to anything I had expected that all my theories immediately went out the window. Entering the densely packed theater, I first noticed a preponderance of leather. Everyone seemed to be wearing it in some form, be it the jacket, shirt or pants variety. They all seemed to be unusually large and bedecked with lengthy beards. It was then that I realized what type of audience I walked into. This was no crowd of kids. I had come to the late night trucker show, with access granted to only those who owned and operated a vehicle that could double for the malicious big-rig in Steven Spielberg’s Duel. The crowd reaction was unnatural: no catty comments thrown Pacino’s way, no standing ovations or audible gasps. The only sound you heard was the rustling of leather. I was a child amongst grizzled grown-ups. Two hours of crime drama could not go fast enough.

I began to examine the crowds that joined me in my opening night excursions, finding just as much joy and pain from who I watched, then what I watched. The unusually high number of people seated legs-crossed, near the back of the theater, for Boogie Nights. The crowd full of blown hankies and teary sobs for Carl Franklin’s One True Thing. And most famously, the crowd of somber adults, turned stone silent by the effect of Steven Spielberg’s masterpiece, Schindler’s List.

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