As soon as the Mel Gibson tapes surfaced, you knew there would be mash ups. Asylum collected a few, but this one of Christian Bale calling Mel Gibson on the phone was my favorite. It’s an obvious idea, but it’s hard to go wrong with anything that involves “OOOOH, GOOOD FER YOOOOU.” There’s nothing like a a psychopath in the throws of incandescent rage who still has the presence of mind to use mocking sarcasm.
Meanwhile, in actual movie news, it sounds like exactly what I was worried about when Mel’s rant hit the news is coming to pass. The Beaver looked like an interesting movie, and now who knows when we’ll ever get to see it. YOU’VE SCREWED ME AGAIN, SECRET COALITION OF JEW BANKERS!
Foster is currently putting the finishing touches on The Beaver, a dramedy she not only directed, but costars in with the embattled actor. Gibson plays a man who develops a friendship with a hand puppet. An insider tells me that Summit Entertainment, the studio releasing Beaver, is at a standstill. “They don’t know what they’re going to do,” the source said. “It’s sort of a wait-and-see until Mel makes his next move.” [via E!Online]
Really, a wait and see? Please, tell us, how do you see this playing out, Summit? He’s already insulted the Jews, the blacks, the Mexicans, Las Vegas, pigs, anyone with breast implants, and threatened to kill his pregnant girlfriend. At this point, the guy could invent cold fusion and cure cancer, and every time he ordered a sandwich at Arby’s, it’d still be 50 – 50 there was spit in it.
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Time for reshoots with a more Shakespearian ending for ‘The Beaver’.
Yeah, but by insulting all of those groups he made fans of me and Donk.
The Mighty Feklahr would have preferred a phone conversation with Mel Gibson and Pee Wee Herman:
“I will bury you in the fucking rose garden!”
“Say it, don’t spray it!”
“You are a fucking embarrassment to me!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING HANG UP ON ME!”
“SSSSSHHHHHH…I’M TRYING TO USE THE PHONE!”
Yeah, Mel Gibson’s welcome in my Arby’s anytime.
I WILL BURY YOU IN THE FUCKING BASEMENT OF THE ALAMO!
Use a “shots-of-the-audience-freaking-out” trailer instead of one comprised of film clips, strongly imply that these audio tapes aren’t of Mel but of the beaver and you’ve got the hot new original film that Middle Umerica can support, without any of that awkward thinking involved with Inception.
True story: When I was in college the local Arby’s employed a 400 lb. gay man named Elmer. For whatever reason, he had a massive crush on me, so I got free Arby’s for years. I always made sure to not order anything with sauces and that he knew I wasn’t gay, but hey -free Arby’s.
WHO RUNS BEAVERTOWN?
I DON’T KNOW! BLOW ME.
I guess punching his baby mama’s teeth out is way over the line, but people are focusing on his rage tantrums, racism and words and saying, “he’s done, son” and Hollywood is shunning him? Polanski drugged and butt-raped a 13-year-old girl and everyone in Hollywood thinks he should be cleared of all charges and canonized. Just sayin – that’s some hypocrisy.
Me and Jodie Foster would get along just fine.
HEY, SALINETITS! I WILL KNOCK YOUR TEETH OUT BUT YOU WILL BLOW ME FIRST!! NO, WAIT…. YOU WILL BLOW ME BUT I WILL KNOCK YOUR TEETH OUT FIRST!!!!!!!!!!
Who’s saying “he’s done” around here? They way He sees it, Mel Gibson is hotter than fur-lined crocs right now! Now, if Roman Polanski would have just admitted he raped that girl because she deserved it and threatened to kill her to keep it quiet, we could all go on with our lives.
“Can I have extra Horsey Sauce with that?”
“Sorry, sir. We’re out of Horsey Sauce”
*Heavy Breathing*
*REALLY Heavy Breathing*
“You make me wanna SMOOOOOOKKKKEEE!!!”
“I sorry, sir?”
“Wetback!!”
Fort Wilderness must have been a hell of a party.
HEY SILICONETITS!!! YOU LOOK LIKE A PIG IN HEAT AND A PACK OF D*GGERS ARE GONNA BURY YOU IN THE ROSE GARDEN!!!!!!!!!!!
It’s not the racism nor the misogyny that bothers me. It’s all the heavy breathing. Does getting raped by a pack of n**gers really turn him on that much? Because I’m sure it can be arranged quite easily, Mel.
In Mel’s defense, knocking a chick’s teeth out in Russia is considered foreplay. And in Australia it’s a formal greeting.
All these tapes prove is that Mel Gibson is a hundred times better at dirty talk than Tiger Woods.
DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURST!
Gibsons’ brand of racism don’t hurt nobody, it’s just an old man complaining about them mexicans out in his yard playing soccer instead of trimming his hedges
Christoph Waltz turned down the lead in the Mel Gibson Story because he doesn’t want to get typecast.
It’s fun to imagine Mel having that conversation with the Beaver puppet: “Your fake teeth look ridiculous. You look like a Vegas badger.”
That beaver is going DOWN.
I don’t know why everyone is so upset with Mel. If you listen to the beginning of the audio clip, you’ll clearly hear that she provoked him.
Mel: Ahh! I’m insane with anger!
Oksana: Where the ni**ers at? I need a pack of them…
Mel: I’m losing my mind! It’s time for an ass-whupping!
[Oksana rolls her eyes and gives "talk-to-the-hand" gesture]
Mel: I cursed.
Oksana: Pfft, that wasn’t shit sugartits…
Also, she might have been trying to poison his children with her Russian spy poison dealies.
Oddly enough, I know what it sounds like when they consummate.
The squalid, featureless, soviet filing cabinet currently blessed with my presence has concrete construction, cinderblock walls, sealed lead paint, and fuck-all insulation, thermal, or sonic.
So I used to have a next door neighbor. Met him a couple times, seemed okay, in a Fratfuck kinda way.
One night he got laid.
Now, prior to this, I had a neighbor, in town from the Alaska fleet, I called the fuzz on, no less than 4 times, for screaming at, and at least in one case, smacking his girl. Big deal, we’ve all been serial domestic-abusers, right? Right?
Dude. Fisherman guy at his wifebeating WORST didn’t sound near half as lividly berserk, as fratguy engaged in the beautiful and intimate act of two people sharing physical love did. Holy shit, it was unreal. I mean, of all the things to get loudly, snarlingly Tourette’sesque about, it never fucking occurred to me. Keep in mind, they’re doing this on the other side of the wall whereby my head rests when I’m sleeping the sleep of virtue, uninterrupted by hostile, enraged barking. The party of the second party, I could hear her, and an occasional, halfhearted “yeah baby”.
Then came this screaming crescendo, which I can only describe as someone with a very limited, but spicy vocabulary, losing a very publicly humiliating battle with, fuck, I dunno, a roll of concertina wire or something, that then rapidly diminished into panting and him repeating, over and over:
“…motherfucker… motherfucker… motherfucker…”
A couple years later I had a chick demand that I talk angry and dirty to her whilst I performed some personal favors. I had to think fast to explain why I started laughing.