In a lot of ways, Baby Goose had a typical Canadian childhood – banging dead cats against trees, being super polite to everyone, and gathering moose semen to warm his family’s cabin during long winters. But perhaps because he’s such a sweet, well-adjusted young man, we often forget that the Goose was also a child actor. In this classic clip, a 12-year-old Gosling-ling goes on Canadian TV in his finest denim shirt (“Canadian silk” they call it) to discuss his then-recent selection as a Mickey Mouseketeer, which is like Mooseketeers for Americans. He may be a pre-pubescent 12-year-old, but he’s still a Gosling, and you can practically hear the host’s panties melt off as she asks him how it felt to be chosen from among thousands to become the next Mouseketeer.
“It was just all neat,” says Gosling.
RIP, Canadian Morning Show Host’s Panties. Anyway, it’s nice to see that Hollywood hasn’t changed him a bit. He said the same thing about Eva Mendes’s boobs.
Ouch, you guys, my soul hurts. I guess that’s just what happens when you watch a naked whore writhe in fresh corpse blood, a guy try to saw off a hooker’s head with a hacksaw, a man gingerly fondle his shotgun-blasted balls, and a pack of hyenas cut off a wildebeest’s penis and then make him eat it piece by piece while they rape his wife. I’m not sure that last one was even in the movie, or if I just imagined it because my mind is now so warped. I know the violence in Hobo with a Shotgun wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, but at times it wasn’t so much clever or gleeful, just brutal, and borderline disturbing. But shouldn’t depictions of violence be disturbing, you might be asking, especially if you’re some kind of overeducated, close-reading psychobabbler? I suppose it should, if you’re trying to make a comment on violence, but in a comical faux-exploitation film it doesn’t quite play. If the sex and violence and swearing in these Grindhousey movies feels so good because it’s so wrong, like a dead-baby joke, or your sister’s tittie, it’s still easier to enjoy when it doesn’t make you feel like a sadist. The gore was a little excessive in Hobo with a Shotgun. Not enough to make or break the movie for me, but I dread the inevitable Pollyannical, conflatulent screed from Armond White, on the topic of this generation’s despicable delectation for endless decapitation. He won’t be right, but the ammo’s there.
