Michael Rapaport’s Awful Southern Accent is Ruining Season 5 of Justified

I just caught up on episode eight of Justified’s fifth season. My question: How much longer can we abide Michael Rapaport’s preposterous southern accent? It is so conspicuously laughable that it becomes a distracting focal point of every episode he’s in. The plot from this week’s episode crackled, with Boyd convincing Yoon and Ruiz that his crew could make the dead bodies in the Mexican desert go away. A midnight desert showdown with corrupt Mexican police followed. Misdirection led Boyd and crew to escape with their heroin intact, yet also teased a showdown between Rapaport’s Daryl Crowe and Boyd.

And yet…there’s this:

This is just one example, and not nearly the most egregious one. It’s like needle scratch stops the action every time he utters a line.

There’s not much I could add to Matt Barone’s excellent breakdown of Rapaport’s dreadful drawl on Complex.com. I just hate that Justified swung and missed so spectacularly in casting Rapaport in the first place.

I’ve enjoyed so many of the seasonal or multiple episode character arcs on Justified. Margo Martindale was brilliant in season two, winning an Emmy as Mags Bennett. Neal McDonough was fantastic in his role as Detroit bad guy Robert Quarles (those smarmy Cadillac commercials notwithstanding). I loved Patton Oswalt’s turn as the wannabe cop. The show cast Jere Burns perfectly as Duffy, with a surgery-altered joker face that suits his role. It’s like his face is its own character. (And frankly, his pinned-back, thin-eyed, bad-after-picture appearance probably makes him uncastable for many roles.)

And I’m actually on board with the story lines this season. I like the tension between Art and Raylan. I like the uncomfortable coexistence of the Florida Crowes in the Kentucky backwoods. Joelle Carter manages to make Ava engaging even amid a somewhat tedious Women in Prison subplot. And Art’s showdown in the diner earlier this season is one of my favorite scenes in the entire series run. But Rapaport’s clanging performance as Daryl is derailing the season for me.

Bonus Boyd Crowder aside: The outstanding Walt Goggins briefly attended my high school in the northwest Atlanta suburb of Smyrna. (Julia Roberts went there too. Go figure.) I just discovered today that Goggins used to leave notes in my friend’s mailbox notifying her that she smells nice. For the record, she does smell quite lovely.

I didn’t realize John Hodgman was doing commercials all the way back in 1970

OK, the guy in this ad just reminded me of him, but obviously advertisers have relied on the nebbish everydork to sell products for generations.

I’m more fascinated that even in 1970, advertisers would’ve found this message effective. To summarize: “Even if you’re a greasy putz, you can kick sand on your nerd girl and pick up hot beach bikini pussy instead. Dodge Charger.”

Although, as we’ve noted here before, marketers still like to appeal directly to the grunty inner male sex panther. The folks who make Axe products for men bring it as shamelessly and offensively as anyone, as in this ad for Axe Rape-is-Her-Fault Chest Wax.

Axe applies the same pot-clanging subtlety to its packaging. I took this picture in a Target the other day:

Gargle with it and she'll let you do butt things

Gargle with it and she’ll let you do butt things

The sassy silhouette says it all: “Axe it up tonight and get 33% more HOT LADIES!”

Also, this particular flavor of Axe Shower Gel is called SHOCK (all caps mandatory).

Which invites the tagline: “Our SHOCK isn’t toxic, at least not in that way.”

There is another Axe variety called ANARCHY. Here too, the message is clear: “It’s lawless here in Pussytown, fellas. When you’re soaked in Axe Torso Dip, civil order disintegrates and your fat wagging meat is the only law the ladies bow down to.”

It’s easy to make fun of this mentality in men’s marketing, but Axe and similar Neadveristers probably have a point. Men are simple creatures; we are not clever. Axe could save a lot of money on broadcast advertising by just sending female field marketers into stores to thwap us over the head with a mallet and tickle our balls a little bit. We’ll buy anything you’re selling. AXE!

The containseggs 2012 Oscar Recap

As we observed tonight’s three-hour time-release Ambien awards show:

  • Breaking News: French filmmakers surrender Oscars for The Artist.
  • Really? Jethro Tull wins for best actress? Come on!
  • Last victim on the death reel? The Oscars.
  • Breaking News: Nick Nolte responds to his inclusion in the Oscar death reel.
  • What a shocking twist that M. Night Shyamalan directed The Artist. Did not see that coming.
  • The Oscars suck and celebrities are stupid and not funny and we’re the real stars on Twitter and I’m sad now and going to bed. 😦
  • I just hope Angelina makes it through the Death Reel.
  • That’s awesome that Bret Michaels won. Poison Forever!
  • They really need to kill some celebrities in live time during the “In Memoriam” to pick things up tonight.
  • I’m starting to think Nicolas Cage totally deserved his Oscar, and probably a couple more. #FireGhostWeirdSuckStillInTheaters
  • I can’t wait until Nick Nolte sings The Gambler.
  • I can’t WAIT for Billy Crystal to star in the Golden Girls movie reboot.
  • Is this Occupy Wall Street? I’m so confused.
  • Is the Academy mad at us? What did we do to deserve this?
  • Oh thank god for this Wizard of Oz focus group. #Redemption
  • It’s so cool that ABC broadcast this rehearsal of the Oscars.
  • I can’t believe they’ve let Chris Brown perform two montages. #DontForget
  • That’s true of so many important moments in my life. / RT @aimeemann: Watching the Oscars. Justin Bieber is the highlight so far.
  • I’ve never been more excited about the NBA.
  • Is this CSPAN?
  • Did anyone else catch that glimpse of Nick Nolte tongue kissing Leonard Nimoy in the balcony?
  • Whitney Houston died for this?
  • Hey, when does this Billy Crystal infomercial end and the Oscars(TM) start?
  • Don’t be so sure./ RT @thesulk The Oscars may suck but at least they won’t end with Tom Brady on his ass.
  • Woody Harrelson kicked ASS in the Slam Dunk contest last night. #Oscars #NBAAllStars
  • Surprising choice to have Nick Nolte sing the national anthem to kick things off. #Oscars
  • Albert Nobbs is a man? Come on!
  • RT @aimeenancygrace I’m sitting down at Safeway eating a peanut butter sandwich because I’m hypoglycemic. #Oscars
  • Kelly Osbourne’s hair is the color of ditto ink from when I was in elementary school. #FewPeopleWillGetThis #AhhhhTheSmell
  • Melanie Griffin looks like the old sunbathing woman from Something About Mary

Listeria on a Stick! The Chocolate Wonderfall at Golden Corral. And Oasis Reunites!

Golden Corral apparently has bought a 2012-GOP-presidential-candidate-sized block of television airtime to advertise its new Chocolate Wonderfall, a provocatively unsanitary bubbling cascade of gooey brown bacteria. The idea: Patrons submerge berries, cookies and other confections on sticks in the flowing chocolate, and then, apparently, consume them. (Fondon’t! Fondon’t!)

The commercials seem to run incessantly now, especially on the cable news channels:

 

There exists no doubt that this chocolate waterfall will trigger a much more violent chocolate waterfall later. Can you conceive of a more disgusting buffet line concept than this geyser of gastrointestinal distress? A churning wellspring of warm, sticky dessert syrup continuously attracting and recycling torrents of sneeze juice, dust and child germs?

And maybe a half of a second will pass from when a five-year old lays her eyes on this until she sticks her doll’s head into the chocolate sugar lava. Don’t just take our word for it; here’s the top comment on the YouTube post of the first commercial, which made us laugh until we cried when reading it aloud:

“So I went to a golden corral today, and I tried this out. Right as I dipped my marshmallow into it, some little kid reached over the little metal railing and just stuck his whole hand into it…”

And the Golden Corral reply to the comment offers scant solace:

“We strive to provide the best possible customer experience for all of our guest [sic]. However, with something as popular as this it is difficult to catch everything.”

Gaaahh! I just took a shower after reading that. This from a restaurant with a history of serving up the all-you-can-e coli buffet. And don’t forget the salmonella special right here in Georgia a few years back.

You’d think that such a track record would inspire tremendous caution with food safety and public health. Or maybe Golden Corral just realizes that the American buffet-going public has a short collective memory and an unrelenting lust for novelty, chocolate sauce and type-2 diabetes. Bacteria be damned! These patrons in a follow-up commercial certainly seem excited:

 

I hope that guy’s cowboy hat can catch some barf.

Finally, in an important aside, our good friend Tim O’Shea of Talking With Tim pointed out on Facebook that there is an inevitable advertising tie-in for the band Oasis. What better reason for them to reunite than to promote the Golden Corral Chocolate Wonderfall? After all, both the band and the Chocolate Wonderfall recycle things that were once good (Beatles songs, chocolate) and turn them into horrible abominations that send us running for the toilet. We close with some lyrics from the Oasis hit “Wonderwall,” reworked for Golden Corral:

Today is gonna be a day that you’re probably gonna spew
By now, you surely feel foul
From the chunks you inevitably blew
I can’t conceive how anybody
Eats that chocolate goo that’s trickling down

Yet maybe, after eating steak and gravy
You’ll heed the call, of Chocolate Wonderfall

A ContainsEggs Cry for Help

There are two things I need you to help me find:

(1) In the early 1980s, there was a TV public service announcement by the Department of Labor that educated viewers about their minimum wage entitlements. I know this one existed; I recall the song, a punchy, uplifting soundtrack for a 30 second inspirational montage of happy people celebrating minimum wage employment. Some sample lyrics:

“Three-ten, three-ten an hour is federal minimum wage / For most jobs your hired to do / You’ve got three-ten coming to you”

The spot ended with a flourish: A race runner joyously broke through the finish tape, victorious in his quest for stifling poverty. As he pumped his fist with unbridled delight, the song punctuated our shared exhilaration: “You’ve got three-ten . . . YEAH! coming to you.”

I have searched online to no avail, and even my friends with encyclopedic pop culture knowledge don’t remember it. It would comfort me if someone acknowledged remembering it. It would thrill me to the point of Kelly Ripaesque giddiness if someone has or can point to a clip.

(2) In the sixth grade (1982), we had to watch a drug scare film in science class. I recall a scene with a young man, maybe 20 or so, who had suffered a psychotic break after taking PCP. Institutionalized, he was dancing atop his bed singing “Shadow Dancing,” apparently now under the delusion that he was Andy Gibb. I laughed aloud and the teacher asked me if I thought something was funny. I replied, “Are you watching the same thing I am?” Then she made me leave the classroom.

Now, I challenge my own memory of this incident. First of all, you’d think a school anti-drug filmstrip with PCP Andy Gibb singing “Shadow Dancing” would’ve found its way to the Internet by now. Google comes up empty, at least for me.

Secondly, my memory seems to have made me an impossibly clever and quick-witted 11-year-old.

But the details of the film seem unusually specific for my mind to have simply invented over the years, and I’ve been recounting some version of this incident for as long as I can remember. So I cling to hope that this cautionary educational gem did indeed exist. Please, someone out there, deliver me this humble Christmas wish.

Surely, someone among the double-digit daily readership here at ContainsEggs can help solve these mysteries.

UPDATE 2/3: An exciting breakthrough! It looks like someone else remembers the school drug-scare film, and that perhaps my memory failed me on the particular song. This person recalls the PCP kid singing Andy Gibb’s “I Just Want to Be Your Everything,” which in retrospect seems more appropriate for an angel dust overdose. But the other details were the same. http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20081121144317AAblDO9

Campbell’s Soup: Also made with meat from carbon-based animals

We’re sure others have noted this before us, but tonight a TV commercial bragged that Campbell’s makes its soups with “farm-grown ingredients.”

Our expectations for Campbell’s soup already linger pretty low. Still, Campbell’s impresses us with the brazen suggestion that the benchmark for soup quality and wholesome yumminess is having ingredients grown on a farm.

“You won’t find back-alley carrots or interstate-median herbs in Campbell’s soups. Our produce comes from a special place—the place where produce comes from. Does Progresso make its minestrone with beans and potatoes formulated in windowless concrete laboratories staffed by inmates from federal psychiatric prisons? We can’t say for certain, but rest assured that we pack every can of Campbell’s soup with vegetables picked by migrant workers aching with sweat, crippling joint pain and financial desperation. And they picked those vegetables on a farm.”

Here’s a super bonus from our extensive research for this post: A couple of eerie old animated commercials featuring the Campbell’s Kids.

In the first commercial, two creepy tomato cannibal twins cheerily boil a naive, trusting Midwestern farm tomato alive. (“Welcome to the jungle baby!”) Apparently the sun is complicit in their blood lust:

In the second commercial, two new serial agri-killers harvest a colony of fat, smiling mushrooms for Campbell’s delectable and apparently hallucinatory cream of mushroom soup. If the kooky kids didn’t already motivate you to bolt to your corner grocer, just wait until the closing shot in which a gelatinous glob of gummy fungi concentrate slithers from the can like an alien afterbirth. A special containseggs prize to the person who can best articulate the sound it makes. Bon appetit!

“Every July, Peas Grow There. Do You Really Mean That?”

A late-vintage Orson Welles entertains and inspires parody in these four clips:

UPDATE: I probably put these in the wrong order. Start with third one; a booze-soaked Welles staggers through failed takes of one of his classic Paul Masson spots from around 1980. It gets better with every viewing.

First clip: Orson Welles agitating in a voiceover session for a frozen peas commercial. I heard this for the first time about 12 years ago, had forgotten all about it, and rediscovered it last night with the pleasure of seeing an old friend. YouTube clips with a single image and audio usually annoy me, but this still shot of Welles holding ad copy with a vicious scowl of pure contempt perfectly seasons this rant. Plus, I imagine he’d have stormed out of the studio if only he could’ve extracted himself from the chair. (It runs a little long, so even if you don’t play the whole thing, don’t miss the parody clip posted next.)

Next up: Short, delightful parody of the frozen peas rant from the sadly underappreciated animated show “The Critic.”

Clip de Trois: Somehow, I’ve managed to miss this clip until now. A stellar reel of outtakes with an enormous, inebriated Orson Welles filming a  late 1970s/early 1980s Paul Masson commercial. The other actors look as if they are helplessly watching a house burn down. I vow to start every conversation tomorrow with Welles’ flourishing “mwaaaaaaAAAAAAAHH, the French . . .” (And by the way, I know “Clip de Trois” is incorrect. Of course it’s “Clippé de Trois.”)

Fourth clip: The third clip led to this parody link, with Groundlings and United Citizens Brigade performer James Adomian doing a hilarious, flawless impersonation of Welles in the Paul Masson spot. I’m not sure which one makes me laugh harder.

And finally, Orson Yells:

Orsen Yells