In a stunning move for a movie with creative capitalization in the title that seems to be based on the idea that the star kind of looks like the subject, jOBS has been delayed indefinitely. If I was Ashton Kutcher, I’d be crying into a groupie’s boobs on my space yacht somewhere right now.

The release date of the Steve Jobs biopic that stars Ashton Kutcher has quietly been postponed. jOBS, which closed the Sundance Film Festival this year, had been set by Five Star Films and its distributor Open Road for April 19. It has moved off that date, and a new date has not been determined. Five Star made a service release deal with Open Road before the festival started, and the film’s backers were eager to release on the month that marks the 37th anniversary of Jobs founding Apple. They’ve found instead that there wasn’t enough time to prepare for a proper release and create buzz for the film. [Deadline]

Not enough time to create buzz, huh? Really? You can’t just release another picture of Ashton Kutcher sort of looking like Steve Jobs again? That seems to be working so far. For a movie starring a television actor from the director of Swing State written by an unknown writer and produced by a guy who makes real estate textbooks, I’d say it’s already gotten an INSANE amount of buzz. But from the reviews, it doesn’t sound that bad. Maybe it will end up as a TV movie, where it probably always belonged in the first place. Here’s a nice plot rundown, courtesy of the Telegraph:

The movie opens in 2001, with Jobs unveiling his masterpiece, the iPod, to tumultuous applause. We then travel back to 1971, where he’s a smelly, horny student at Reed College, Portland. An LSD trip reveals he was adopted. A journey to India begins a process of enlightenment, teaching Jobs the importance of simplicity. [telegraph.co.uk]

Sometimes I wish life was more like a shitty biopic, where your every personality trait and personal preference can be traced back to some epochal, reductive life experience. Where you tell the burger joint waitress “and no pickles, please!”, and your mind instantly flashes back to your best friend’s sixth birthday party, when Sheckles the Birthday Clown repeatedly violated you with a kosher dill behind the tilt-o-whirl, saying “C’mon, kid, ain’t nuttin ta be afraid of. Doncha like pickles?” over and over until you wake up in a cold sweat.