Friday 20 May 2016
12:10 p.m. My Neighbour’s Yacht is a GINORMOUS hit in Japan.
Mr. Wallaker’s older son James, who wants to be filmmaker after getting A-levels, has been reading online criticism on blogs. Some are in English, some Japanese (which he can translate thanks to studying it in school). One blog called The Film Dudes has written,
My Neighbour’s Yacht: So Bad, That (T)It’s So Good
You have to see it to believe it. Honestly. We were just flicking through our Hulu menus on Monday night, debating whether we should ever renew our subscriptions again. But, then, we came across this image of a giraffe-legged, giant-titted, mascara-dripping-down-the-face Ambergris Silk, who has lately been in the news for battling cocaine addiction and filing for divorce with (also) filmstar husband Anthony Blazer. We decided to give the boobies, er, Ambergris Silk a try. And was it worth it, with or without boobies.
It opens with the title,
My Neighbour’s Yacht
(Loosely adapted from
Apparently, post-production team were not informed of my involvement in script (i.e. me being the progenitor of script, having based it on Henrik Ibsen’s of course) but were informed of mistakes I made in title of script.
Already, Dudios, we know it’s gonna be bad. And we’re talking superbad, of former adipose-endowed Jonah Hill proportions. And, it is. Ambergris Silk prances about in her short shorts everywhere, in sun, rain and snow, with her titties bouncing up and down, round and round, in every single shot. But, you’d get bored of them if the dialogue, delivered in stilted fashion by Silk and male-totty-of-the-moment Carey McCarven (who is too underfed to pose any virile potential to Silk’s womanly voluptuousness) wasn’t even more incredible than the laws-of-Physics-defying nature of Silk’s boobies. You pay attention to how bad they are, and not just because of McCarven’s terrible Texan accent. I (Shane, your favourite plaid-wearing Dude) could feel a hernia coming on (instead of other things I’d like to come on) everytime Silk’s glycerine-induced emotional scenes had me bursting into laughter. Hans (your other favourite, bird-prints wearing Dude) went to the bathroom in his aqua blue linen pants when McCarven got down on his knees to beg forgiveness from Silk.
Final Verdict: 4/5 Dudeness points, because films like these don’t come along often. Had they actually tried to make Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler, it would have been so bad, that it would be bad. But, My Neighbour’s Yacht is gold. Solid Gold. As gold as the colour of Hans’ turds…
6 p.m. More reviews have poured in and family, even Mr. Wallaker, have been going through them. Shazza forwarded article on Ambergris Silk from gossip website Hello, Goodbye. It reads,
Ambergris Silk Film Released In Midst of Rehab and Divorce From Anthony Blazer
Ambergris Silk, 31, was in rehab in an undisclosed location when her latest film, My Neighbour’s Yacht, was made available for streaming on Hulu in Japan on Monday, the first release of any kind the doomed project has had. Silk immediately released a statement saying she “regrets” doing the film, and that the “original vision” of the film, a contemporary, closer take on Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler, was better. However, the film is already an ironic hit in Japan, with Universal Pictures hoping to pick it up for wider release globally. The film has received critical praise online, with Silk’s acting being applauded for its ‘Cringe Factor’. We, at Hello, Goodbye, advise Silk to retract her statement if she hopes to work again with Greenlight Productions, since they may be the only ones willing to hire the addiction-battling, once-Oscarworthy, star.
11:30 p.m. Mixed feelings about the whole day. While it was nice to have family bonding time reading reviews of My Neighbour’s Yacht, do not feel as pleased as I should with its success. Mr. Wallaker agrees, and says we should all have a family trip over the weekend in the country. Am not so sure, because the children want to watch X-Men: Apocalypse, which they kindly postponed today to read reviews. Want to watch X-Men too, because Michael Fassbender is my male-totty-of-the-moment. Apart from Mr. Wallaker, of course.
Saturday 21 May 2016
9 a.m. I CANNOT BELIEVE IT.
9:02 a.m. Tom is getting married. To someone called Jeanne, whom had so far assumed to be someone called Gene. He texted,
Bring out the booze! Whoop Whoop! Jeanne proposed last night after making drunken, mad love. We’re engaged!!!!!!
Jeanne?! Jeanne?! JEANNE?!?!
11:30 a.m. Jude confirmed it. She came over with a bottle of champagne, saying Talitha, Tom and Jeanne are on their way. And yes, Jeanne is in fact a girl, not a man, like Gene Kelly, that had been presuming Tom to be sleeping with.
2:47 p.m. Cannot hold it any longer. Jeanne. Jeanne. Like a princess, only from Vogue photoshoot, not Disney film. Jeanne, like a cross between Heidi Klum and Eva Herzigova, sans airbrushing and photoshop. Jeanne, exactly the sort of stick insect you’d NEVER have thought Tom to be sleeping with, especially when Tom is as gay as they come…
Even faithful boy, er, man friend Mr. Wallaker’s jaws dropped in awe on seeing Jeanne.
6 p.m. Still cannot process Jeanne. Chloe and ex-neighbour Rebecca have been here all day to help with children, while childless friends Jude, Talitha, Tom and Tom’s fiancée Jeanne are out celebrating. Chloe says I have girl crush, while Rebecca says just because Tom’s marrying Jeanne doesn’t mean he has turned straight. She reminded me of 90s romantic comedy programme Bob and Rose, where Bob and Rose become couple, but Bob doesn’t become straight or bi.
11:06 p.m. We didn’t watch X-men: Apocalypse. Mr. Wallaker took Billy and Michael to classical music concert. Mabel watched YouTube vloggers. Tomorrow has to be proper family day. Whether we go to the country, or watch X-Men.
Think Jeanne is the Apocalypse…
To be continued…
(Inspired by Helen Fielding’s Bridget Jones series.)