The Taking of Odessa

“You can lick my bunghole mothaf$$$$$!”

These were the words yelled moments ago by the quintessential John Travolta in one of the worst movies I’ve been privy to in recent memory.

I’m watching it from my bed in the Lakeland RV Park & Motel in Odessa, Nebraska.  The sign off the road said, in a medium-sized, un-lit yellow sign, “BUDGET MOTEL.”  Music to mine and Mike’s ears.  And it comes with free HBO.  Thank god for that.

I think this movie is called “The Taking of Pelham 123” or something.  And it’s amazing.  Let us count the ways…

Travolta just got Denzel Washington to confess his low-level crime over a loudspeaker by threatening to kill some kid on the NYC subway train that he’s held hostage.  Travolta has no idea that Denzel has committed this crime, and Denzel knows he has no idea, and the authorities standing over Denzel’s shoulder scratching their nuts know that Travolta has nothing on Denzel, and yet—he confesses.  Awesome.

Every five minutes or so a countdown, say “11 minutes,” flashes on the screen to remind us that Travolta has a deadline before he blows up this train.  Question: in what hostage movie has the bad guy ever executed his plan at the deadline?  I think never.  Ever.  The idea that this countdown is supposed to stop me from laughing at this laugh-riotothon is a laugh-riot.

“You’re being selfish.”  That’s what the mayor’s assistant says to the mayor (played by Tony Soprano himself).  Let’s disregard the fact that this low-level twerp would be thrown to the curb for ever uttering those words to Tony Soprano and focus on the fact that no one—post “Leave It to Beaver”—has ever said that to someone.  Ever.  Now, people say that ABOUT people all the time, as in “This bunghole mothaf###### is being right selfish.”  But, in all honesty, have you ever said that to someone’s face?  Caveat: have you ever said it in a non-heated tone, because this mayor’s assistant bunghole mothaf@@@@@ said it with a clear head.  Fail.

Oh, and apparently there is internet access underground in the NYC subway systems now.  One of the hostages just so happens to be SKYPING with his girlfriend while being held hostage.  Oh, and check that: apparently there was internet on the subway several years ago, because that’s when this laugh-riot was filmed.

And now Denzel must pick up a gallon milk to appease his worrying wife who actually knows that Denzel is about to go to fight Travolta.  Awesome.  Get that gallon Denzel.  Get it.

“This train is gonna derail before it gets to Coney Island!”  No shit.  Because the 2 train doesn’t go to Coney Island.  At all.  And those were the words of the TRAIN DISPATCHER.  Is it the goal of this movie to take a piss on the very city it’s about, aka the biggest city in the country???

The boyfriend just skyped his farewell speech to his girlfriend over the subway’s highspeed internet.  “I love you,” he says.  I hate you.

So Travolta is supposed to be some low income, blue collar New Yorker.  His hairdresser and stylist say otherwise.

“This fucking city,” says the cab driver.  Guess we know how the producers feel about New York…

“Garber baby,” says Travolta to Denzel, “I ain’t goin back to prison.”  Guess he’s dyin.  Thanks for blowing it.

“I am not going to shoot you.”  He’s going to shoot him.

He shot him.

Off to bed.  I love movies.  

Oh, and Denzel forgot to pick up the milk.  WTF.

p.s. We’ve been staying at Motel 6’s routinely when camping hasn’t worked out, but note to self: always follow the indiscernible yellow signs that might read “Budget Motel” off the highway.  We drove up to this quaint mobile home that we figured was the office of this budget establishment--because the lights were on—and rang the door bell.  We were greeted by this awesome lady who we clearly woke up at this late AM hour:

“Sorry to wake you.”

“Oh, stop it.  That’s my job!”

Her babies in the back were crying and everything, yet she was a beacon of light amidst motel hell.  

“Where you from?”

“New York.”

“What you doin in Odessa?!”

She’s great.  And the room?  1970’s  wood paneled walls, cozy weathered beds, and COMFORTERS THAT ARE NOT LIKE EVERY OTHER COMFORTER IN EVERY OTHER FREAKIN MOTEL IN EVERY OTHER PART OF THE WORLD.  Win.  Big win.

Oh, and $40 for the night.  Bam.

God this movie sucks…

-- JEFF