While you're crossing your fingers and hoping your boss doesn't ask why your afternoon pumpkin latte smells suspiciously like tequila, enjoy these Friday afternoon box office projections of dubious value:
Welcome to this special, "Wait, Today's a Holiday?" edition of Monday Morning Box Office:
As the sweet release of the weekend draws ever closer, drown your sack of cubicle-blues kittens in the swift river of our box office projections:
Saturday's LAT provided us with another opportunity to play our favorite parlor game, Journalists Making Studio Executives Admit That Their Summer Movies Were Shitty. This latest round of insincere sackcloth-and-ashes fun stars Sony's Amy Pascal and Brian Grazer of Imagine, who do their part to promise the ticket-buying public through gritted teeth that this time, they really, really mean it when they say they're going to rededicate themselves to quality:
Without further—or, really, any—ado, your Monday morning box office numbers:
Another Friday afternoon, another jaw-droppingly accurate* set of box office predictions:
Excuse me for a moment while I retrieve my lower jaw off the floor those "bone-chillingly accurate predictions" I intrepidly pulled out of my ass on Friday ended up being pretty darned close! Forget 'blogger.' I'm now calling myself 'entertainment consultant.' For $450 an hour I'll tell you what Staind song to run over your closing credits.
This will go down as the season a trio of gigantic bitches with names out of a Russ Meyer movie kill, killed the box-office: first Katrina, then Emmy, and now Rita. And don't forget our other local disasters: the blackout (I call that one "Tara Reid") and that citywide swampy poo smell (also, "Tara Reid"). But if we were to stay away from the megaplexes this weekend, the hurricanes and second-string awards shows would win! Get out there and fulfill the destiny of my Nostradamic, bone-chillingly accurate predictions:
Take refuge in the weekend's box office numbers, forgetting for a moment that you're about to embark on five straight days of pain and suffering.
It's Emmy weekend, and we understand if you want to lock yourself indoors and mentally prepare yourself for all of the Desperate Housewives acceptance speeches. But the movie world will do its best to lure you out of your TV cocoon and steal your money in exactly the following way:
Like a bucket full of ice water cruelly ending the last moments of your weekend slumber, here come the box office numbers:
Welcome to the first weekend of the Fall movie season, that post-Labor Day cinematic Siberia, when studios hope for little more than moviegoers not actively picketing the theaters showing the crap they've pooped out into the world. Fight off your ambivalence and attend the talkies in exactly these numbers:
Enjoy the weekend box office numbers, a perfect complement to that soul-restoring first cup of coffee:
· Hollywood Out of Ideas, All-Worlds Edition: Paramount brings in Steven Spielberg, the world's leading expert on expensive remakes with "Worlds" in the title and movies dealing with deadly threats from outer space, as producer of the re-do of 1951's When Worlds Collide. [Variety]
· The world's leading expert on bad movies involving CGI critters and ancient curses, Stephen "The Mummy" Sommers, steps out of the above-mentioned When Worlds Collide project to take over Fox's Night at the Museum, about "a goodhearted but bumbling security guard at the Museum of Natural History who accidentally trips an ancient curse that causes the animals and insects on display to come to life, wreaking havoc in the area." [THR]
· Scott Rudin, Hollywood's unofficial Friend of Literature, puts up his own money [Ed.note—Gasp!] to acquire the rights to soon-to-be-released Benjamin Kunkel (for blog-lit nerds: he's the N+1 guy, there is hope!) novel Indecision. [Variety]
· HBO orders comedy pilot from Lydia Dean Pilcher, about thirty-something Manhattan women juggling their families and careers, but otherwise bears no resemblance whatsoever to Sex and the City. [THR]
· The Island continues to become somewhat less of a disaster overseas, winning a third straight weekend at the foreign box office and crossing the $100 million mark. [Variety]
Welcome to the final Monday Morning Box Office report of August 2005, which will suffer from 2.5% less effort than the one from the corresponding Monday morning of 2004.
We've got a good feeling about this week's projections; total ambivalence usually does wonders for our accuracy.
Like a welcoming Monday morning hug and sneaky punch to the kidneys, here are the weekend box office numbers:
It's time to spike that lunchtime Diet Coke with some 80-proof happy juice and start thinking about quitting time. In the meantime, here's our best guesses about how you'll spend the only part of your weekend that matters to Hollywood:
Like rolling over on Monday morning and discovering that the struggling actress you thought you'd blown off after that fifth tequila shot is drooling on your pillow, the weekend box office numbers:
