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Extreme Ops
(2002)
Dir: Christian Duguay
Precisely why I will never have cable television in my home. I would never rent Extreme Ops, and I surefire didn’t see it in the theatre. Only on cable would I watch a renegade turd like this.
I did find some irony in watching a movie about a bunch of infantile, vacant adrenaline-junkies on cable: seething birthplace of the vacant mind. Everything on cable is about wasting time. Why learn to garden when you can watch a show on gardening and have a watered down phantasm of gardening drift over your consciousness, and then quickly evaporate. Cable really makes you stupid. I’ll grant the History and Discovery channels and pass. Good documentaries are what ought to fill the airwaves. A well-executed documentary can open your mind. But the opposite of such fare is what clogs the dial--and it‘s dangerous. Television is really a double-edged bastard. Ninety-five percent of everything on cable causes mental rigor-mortis. It numbs, and makes malleable the will. Sure, it’s an opiate controlled by the greediest hands of the most shortsighted people alive, but who really cares when you can see a couple of chicks Frenching in a hot tub while two dudes guzzle beer in the background?
A movie as utterly ridiculous as Extreme Ops should have fallen off the face of the earth after it died at the box office. But for some reason people would rather watch a movie about a rag tag gaggle of snowboarders and their Glen Plake den mother, than pick up a book or go outside. There’s a ridiculous sub-plot about an international terrorist, but the movie is largely about setting off avalanches and filming a commercial. Yeah, what the fuck? This movie is so confused that you almost feel sorry for it. But before that can happen, a flaming 1080 punctuated by the heartiest of spring-break woooooooooooo’s, drops the movie back into prime hatability. It’s impossible to sympathize with anyone whose daily aspirations consist of getting gnarly and catching boss air. Fuck this movie and fuck cable.
I guess I shouldn’t say fuck cable completely. I like cable in hotel rooms. Hotels are all about vacation, and what better vacation from grinding reality than cable television. Probably because I don’t watch much of it I can feel myself getting tugged into its trance. A very sinister sensation.
You know what else I saw on cable today? Gay penguins. CNN ran a story about gay penguins in a Brooklyn zoo. It was almost otherworldly. They ran footage of two of these effete seabirds trying to fornicate. You could literally see their little assholes twitching as they tried humping one another in vain. The anchor made a lame pun about the birds wanting to migrate to Massachusetts so they could wed. The whole thing was deeply terrifying, but I’ll still take a penguin hell-bent on sodomy over anything extreme-related. Except Mountain Dew. Can’t get uber-gnarles on the old keyboard without my daily Dew-enema.
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