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While promoting Forbidden Kingdom over the weekend, Jackie Chan announced that he and Chris Tucker will reunite on the big screen, but not (thankfully) for another Rush Hour sequel. No word on whether Brett Ratner would direct, although Jackie hinted that that wasn’t happening:
“We finished ‘Rush Hour 1,’ and it was six years later that we made ‘Rush Hour 2,’ ” he said, “and then six years later we made ‘Rush Hour 3.’ It’s too long!”
TRANSLASIAN: “I’ve finally come to my senses and realized that Brett Fat is a douchey hack.”
I finally watched Be Kind Rewind last night, Michel Gondry’s new valentine to moviemaking, and I could not stop giggling. Gondry’s “Sweded” version of Rush Hour 2, with Jack Black as Jackie Chan and Mos Def as Chris Tucker, is a pitch-perfect send-up of that pile of poo.
The Associated Press reported last week that DISGRASIAN Hall-of-Shamer Jackie Chan has recorded the official one-year countdown song for the Beijing Olympics, entitled, “We Are Ready.”
For those who aren’t fluent in Mandarin*, I’ve taken the liberty of translating the lyrics** for you here:
We are ready
Yes we are ready
For the Olympics in Beijing!
Hope you likey
Ride a bikey
When the ceremonies are in-ringing!
I will be there
With my bad hair
Maybe I will even sing…
But Chris Tucker
Oh that fucker
Won’t understand a thing!
I don’t mind though
We’re all money hoes
We just like to hear ka-ching!
So come to the games
Fine, forget our names
We rikey rice here ting-a-ling!
Or watch the actual song performance here:
*I don’t speak Mandarin either.
**Not actual lyrics
Only TWO WEEKS left until the August 10 premiere of Rush Hour 3. The countdown begins!!!!
In the meantime, I suppose we’ll just have to pass the time watching something else, like this:
For those Angelenos (like Jen and myself), whose dining options have oft been crippled by the embarassing, obnoxious calamity at restaurants shamefully deemed “Celebrity Hotspots,” I am denouncing one paparazzi-smeared institution in particular: MR. CHOW.
TMZ documented the entries and exits of a pocketful of DISGRASIAN Hall-of-Famers (that means you, Chris Tucker)–just this weekend alone–in a flashbulb-filled piece called Chow Hounds. The eatery, however, has already been sufficiently defamed by enough Paris Hilton, Jessica Simpson, and Britney Spears presence in recent years to officially classify it as a full-time fish market.
“Mr.” Michael Chow– is this really the dining legacy you intended? I just lost my appetite.
At long last, the trailer for Rush Hour 3. It drop-kicks theaters in August.
Two words: CAN’T WAIT.
Costumed in police attire this week, “martial arts star” Jackie Chan announced that he will star in a new recruitment campaign for the LAPD.
At the press conference he added, “I’m the police ambassador in Taiwan, Japan, Hong Kong, China, everywhere.”
Jackie, in the mid-seventies, when every single one of my siblings, relatives, and immigrant Vietnamese friends crossed over the Pacific to become war refugees in the United States, shit was BAD. Every kid on the block–regardless of class or color–wanted to kick some little Charlie ass. And in the face of danger, only one thing stood between every single Vietnamese Kid and about 300 knuckle sandwiches. Do you know what that thing was?
All you had to say was that you knew Bruce Lee, and by golly, Fat Tommy or Billy the Killer would for some reason believe you and leave you alive for another day.
Bruce Lee had the grace of a gazelle, the fire of a dragon, the soul of a Buddha. He only laughed after he’d ripped your heart out with his left hand. Bruce Lee was a fearsome, wonderful hero and everybody knew it. Bruce Lee was an ambassador.
You, however, refuse to practice kickflips without slapping an embarassingly dippy grin across your face. You allow Chris Tucker to make YOU look like the babbling idiot in those Rush Hour movies, and oh, you’ve somehow managed to aid Brett Ratner in becoming one of the most successful “directors” in Hollywood.
Please, please omit “everywhere” from your list of destinations as Ambassador of anything. I don’t think I can defend myself against Fat Tommy yet.