Here's something you might be interested in.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/jun/04/46896/
Q: "What did the audience member say when the Whoopie Cushion gag got old?"
A: "This movie sucks. Let's get outta' here."
It is easily the most memorable screening I ever walked out on.
What lunatic PR drone at 20th Century Fox crapped out the idea of putting a Whoopie Cushion on every seat of the Mission Valley 17 before a screening of Monkeybone?
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/jun/04/46883/
Let's see...some of it was animated and Henry Selick directed; as far as the movie goes, that's all that remains in the cranial folder labeled Monkeybone. In this instance, the screening's the thing!
Every time a character stood up, sat down, bent over, crossed his, her, or its legs, or made any type of physical movement, it was accompanied by a cacophony of flutter-blasts from the Poo-Poo Pillow-wielding crowd.
As Mel Brooks so wisely taught us, all displays of great fartistry must come to (and from) an end. Once the forged trouser coughs ceased, my friend and I scrambled for an exit, but not before twenty minutes of side-splitting hilarity had made it impossible for us to move.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/jun/04/46896/
Q: "What did the audience member say when the Whoopie Cushion gag got old?"
A: "This movie sucks. Let's get outta' here."
It is easily the most memorable screening I ever walked out on.
What lunatic PR drone at 20th Century Fox crapped out the idea of putting a Whoopie Cushion on every seat of the Mission Valley 17 before a screening of Monkeybone?
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2013/jun/04/46883/
Let's see...some of it was animated and Henry Selick directed; as far as the movie goes, that's all that remains in the cranial folder labeled Monkeybone. In this instance, the screening's the thing!
Every time a character stood up, sat down, bent over, crossed his, her, or its legs, or made any type of physical movement, it was accompanied by a cacophony of flutter-blasts from the Poo-Poo Pillow-wielding crowd.
As Mel Brooks so wisely taught us, all displays of great fartistry must come to (and from) an end. Once the forged trouser coughs ceased, my friend and I scrambled for an exit, but not before twenty minutes of side-splitting hilarity had made it impossible for us to move.