Three bromance films that someone should make.

Categorised as GENERAL.

Bromance has always been around – what else would you call JD and Turk’s relationship on Scrubs? Or Sherlock Holmes and Watson’s partnership for that matter? See, Arthur Conan Doyle was on the money back in the last millennium, but Hollywood didn’t come up with a decent name to market it for about another hundred years so it was always brushed under the carpet as another rom-com with more emphasis on the ‘com’. Of course now they’ve been given an appropriate label, bromance buddy films are taking over the celluloid cosmos. In fact, ever since Wayne’s World (arguably the best of all bromance films) came out in 1992, we’ve been inundated with carbon copy replicas that are getting increasingly worse, bar a few notable exceptions, such as Swingers and Shaun of the Dead. So seeing as everyone else seems to be doing it I thought I would come up with a few pitches that I’ll shop around all the major studios. Once I get past my moral obligation to include the present king of bromance, Paul Rudd, in every single one.


Life changing moments happen when you’re on your arse drunk with a stranger.

Chris Tucker is an egotistical, power hungry baseball player (a la Kenny Rogers), still fit enough to play, but watching his career fall from triumph to shit in a video montage soundtracked with an R Kelly song full of poignant lyrics that make you think about the internal woe he must be feeling. Turning to drink to drown his misery he begins to frequent a bar where he watches groovy young dudes pick up the tail that he remembers getting back when he was smashing home runs in front of thousands at the Dodgers stadium and millions on primetime national TV. It looks like all is lost, the once great man now destined to be a guy who offers you a hand-job for five bucks while you wait to get money out of an ATM…until a mopey looking Paul Rudd playing a renegade advertising executive who had been laid off that exact day walks up to the bar and orders a double whisky on the rocks with all the melancholy of a wronged basset hound. Now here’s where things get interesting. The two down-trodden men get chatting, talk turns to the topic of their respective careers; Paul mentions that when he was starting up in the industry he put together a little skit for a local baseball glove manufacturer and Chris goes wild – this is what he needs, a man to help him get his name back out there – but Paul, being Paul Rudd, gets kinda pissed off at him because he’s all loud and seemingly intent on killing his buzz the whole time. The two part ways and go on traipsing around (in another montage where Paul plays video games and throws the controller on the floor) with very little to do, until we see Paul digging out the archive footage of his baseball glove endeavour and smirking in a ‘You know what? I’m gonna give this a shot’ way. Paul and Chris get together again and brainstorm their way through an array of hilarious plans, Paul giving Chris loads of Tim from The Office looks when he pitches bad ideas, until they arrive at the perfect money-spinner, something so crazy that it might just work; ‘The Chris Tucker Baseball League for ex sporting heros,’ (or the CTBLESH) a league solely composed of players from a range of sports who are too old and fat to run properly, but can still swing a hell of a home-run. With Paul’s advertising expertise the pair get the league off the ground and in to the hearts and minds of sports fans all over America, making Chris the star player and Paul the wizened club owner – bringing the two men together. The film ends in ANOTHER montage of the two with their new families, playing ball together, vacationing in Cape Cod, and devouring a Thanksgiving meal.


It took a lack of weed for three stoner friends to get high with each other again.

There hasn’t been a decent stoner film in a while, and you might call me cheap for capitalising on the current wave of buddy films, but that wave is exactly what this genre needs to dig it up from under the stacks of family guy DVDs in hot-boxed student houses. The leading protagonists in this piece of cinematic glory are Kieran Culkin, Johnny Simmons and Josh Zuckerman; three childhood friends from the mid-west who have grown to only have one thing in common – smokin’ up tha dank shit. Kieran is the wild one, the lone wolf who disappears for weeks and returns out of the blue for a little session with his old pals, Johnny is the cute one – the guy who’s tied down by his girlfriend (but the audience can kind of tell that he quite likes it that way) and Josh is the geeky one who would have graduated at Yale by now if he hadn’t got high before every exam. The three used to laugh and joke around when they smoked together, but now their friendship has become an empty bong, none of the three willing to reload it from their own stash, and resenting each other for needless reasons. We see the three characters in Josh’s car en route to buy a half ounce for the weekend ahead, and all is going swimmingly; the guy’s just weighing it up for them on the other end and none of them have any commitments to ruin their wasted weekend – until….Johnny’s girlfriend calls to ask if he can drop off her iPod quickly before she heads out to Illinois for the weekend. Unfortunately Johnny’s girlfriend (played perfectly by ‘go to stoner girlfriend’ Mary Kate Olsen) lives out in the sticks, and Josh unwillingly turns the car around to make the detour. Just as they (conveniently) reach an area so remote that none of their phones get signal, both the back tyres blow out – cue some line about never relying on modern commodities from Kieran. As the night begins to close in the three friends start their trek through the wilderness to find some help, and encounter a number of alarming situations on the way, i.e: a group of guys who have set up a reserve for big game hunting in the middle of some woods, a group of babes filming a porno, a spooky abandoned house to explore, three more guys (who look remarkably similar to them) on the same mission, and finally some red-capped mushrooms that they eat (because they’re all really hungry by now) that suddenly lead to their surroundings becoming animated. After learning from a tree that they should put their resentful feelings for each other aside and get back to the way things used to be they stumble across a shack owned by ‘go to older stoner’ Ben Kingsley who just happens to have the two exact tyres that they need. Ben gives them a lift back to their car and the trio pick up their weed and head back to Johnny’s apartment. The credits roll over the three bros in hysterical laughter, red eyed and hugging, until a plume of bong smoke takes over the screen and a Snoop Dogg tune plays out the rest of the names.


When racist old men stare at black folk for long enough, who knows what will happen?

Before I wrote this one out I had to double check on wikipedia that it wasn’t the exact story-line of Gran Torino, but it turns out it’s remarkably different. I suppose that means I’ve typecast Clint Eastwood as a racist old man in my own mind already, so this film wouldn’t have damaged his reputation any more to me.

The Unlikely Friendship is the tale of two recently widowed men who both move to the suburbs in outer Toronto to start fresh and make the most of the time they have left on this earth. Clarke Peters is a Quentin Tarantino idealisation of an older black guy, all suave and smooth – tapping his feet to some old Jazz beat that crackles in on vinyl in the opening credits. Clint Eastwood is a Vietnam veteran (duh, what else?) who still bears the prejudiced attitudes that were instilled in him as a young boy growing up in the deep south. We see both men pottering about doing very little; Clint polishing his huge collection of guns, Clarke pressing the suits from his hey-day and placing them back in the cupboard that they’ve just come from, and both men sitting out on their porches, gazing wistfully in to nothing. One day Clint sees Clarke lighting and stuffing a pipe – censoring himself from some unnecessary horrible racist tirade (maybe a bit more of a racist back story on Clint’s behalf would be good in retrospect) and retreats to his gun room, shaking his head contemplatively. Clint’s gestures do not go unnoticed; Clarke smiles to himself, thinking ‘are there really people like that living in suburbian Toronto?’ Although the men have never met properly all seems lost between them until….Clint walks past Clarke’s home, and gazing through his front window notices him watching The Bucket List. The racist old man knocks on his neighbour’s door and offers a truce. At first Clarke is confused but once it dawns on him that the truce being offered is actually Clint making peace with his inner demons in an attempt to lead his life to the max the two head to Cabo and hook up with as many foxy chicks as a pack of viagra will allow.

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