…in dumbest way imaginable.
Uwe Boll, ”director” of House of the Dead and Bloodrayne, has never been celebrated for his subtlety. He’s never been celebrated at all, in fact; and that’s why he decided to fight back – with a ferocious literalism. On Saturday, Boll made good on his challenge to critics: The so-called ”worst director in the world” invited his male detractors in the media to go three rounds with him in a Vancouver boxing ring. (They have boxing rings in gentle Vancouver?)
With Roger ”The Real Deal” Ebert still not back up to fighting weight, Boll settled for a meat parade of lesser knowns: ”webmasters Richard ‘Lowtax’ Kyanka of Something Awful, Jeff Sneider of Ain’t It Cool News, Chris Alexander of Rue Morgue Magazine, and Nelson Chance Minter, a teenage webhead and amateur boxer.” Boll, a former boxer who trained four months for this glorious moment, handily pulped them all, but not before making a solemn statement about the plague of youth violence and the recent shooting in Montreal. Guy’s a class act.
Having written two pans of Boll’s work, I was technically qualifiedto participate in this event. But I am a featherweight, untrained inthe sweet science, and if I must be beaten to death by a film director,I’d rather it be one who understands the rudiments of storytelling. Iwant my cranial contusions to have a coherent narrative, dagnabbit.
It’s traditional to end a blog entry with a question, but this one’sstumping me. Um… which bizarre middle-European director would you liketo get beaten up by? I already sort of feel a little abused by PaulVerhoeven, but, y’know, in a good way. (Don’t judge me!)