Stop me if you've heard this one, but my parents used to send me across the country to visit my grandparents for the entire f--king summer. Alone.
While my dad's side (located in Bristol, Connecticut) was all about dinner (at five?) together, planned outings, and a general sense of structure, my mom's side was the opposite. Temporarily residing in Charlestown, Massachusetts (not the nice part, either), the unspoken law of the land seemed to be, do what you want and try not to die. Oh, and dinner's whenever. Probably.
Being that it was hot as balls, and pretty much the f--king mean streets, I quickly came up with a plan. I would walk/run the two plus miles to the movie theater damn near everyday, and I would buy one ticket. And I would stay there as long as possible, hopping from one screen to the next. And in the summer of 1991, a movie I watched on more than one occasion? Madonna: Truth or Dare.
I was eleven.
While Madonna sucking off a mostly empty bottle (I dare you click here) was part of an actual documentary, Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, while equally ridiculous, is straight fiction. At least as far as I can tell.
Conner Friel has musical talent. Or did. As the pseudo-documentary details, Conner has already experienced early, group-based success in the nineties (with the Beastie Boys-esque Style Boyz) and followed that with a meteoric rise as a solo-artist. Simply put, the world f--king loves this dude. And has for some time.
Like so many artists before him, Conner decides to turn his back on all the things that made him famous in the first place, including his long-time manager and childhood best friend(s). But when his sophomore album drops, the long-awaited Connquest, and is utterly f--king rejected by fans and critics alike, Conner folds like a cheap hooker who got hit in the stomach by a fat guy with sores on his face.
While there is a plot and a serviceable story, the real question about Popstar is whether or not it's funny. Well, you likely can't (and shouldn't) trust the grown up version of a perverted eleven-year old Madonna fan, or someone willing to drop a Friends quote two decades too late, but in my opinion, this f--ker was pretty damn funny. While not all the jokes are going to land, they come so friggin' quickly, it won't matter. Short version? I was consistently laughing my ass off.
Oh, and this one time? I almost choked to death on a dick...joke. As once again the big unit is played for even bigger laughs. Usually, I don't find other guy's dicks all that hysterical, but I'm telling you I actually cried during this scene. Unbelievable.
Conner Friel has musical talent. Or did. As the pseudo-documentary details, Conner has already experienced early, group-based success in the nineties (with the Beastie Boys-esque Style Boyz) and followed that with a meteoric rise as a solo-artist. Simply put, the world f--king loves this dude. And has for some time.
Like so many artists before him, Conner decides to turn his back on all the things that made him famous in the first place, including his long-time manager and childhood best friend(s). But when his sophomore album drops, the long-awaited Connquest, and is utterly f--king rejected by fans and critics alike, Conner folds like a cheap hooker who got hit in the stomach by a fat guy with sores on his face.
While there is a plot and a serviceable story, the real question about Popstar is whether or not it's funny. Well, you likely can't (and shouldn't) trust the grown up version of a perverted eleven-year old Madonna fan, or someone willing to drop a Friends quote two decades too late, but in my opinion, this f--ker was pretty damn funny. While not all the jokes are going to land, they come so friggin' quickly, it won't matter. Short version? I was consistently laughing my ass off.
Oh, and this one time? I almost choked to death on a dick...joke. As once again the big unit is played for even bigger laughs. Usually, I don't find other guy's dicks all that hysterical, but I'm telling you I actually cried during this scene. Unbelievable.
