A few months back, a Canadian member of parliament found herself being scolded by one of her colleagues in the house for what was apparently a poor choice of words.
Whether you think the simile used was appropriate or not is up for debate, but how This Hour Has 22 Minute‘s Mark Kritch handled it isn’t. He’s brilliant, and so quick. Not to be outdone, MP Michelle Rempel matched him joke for joke.
5. You believe that bad publicity is good publicity.
You accidentally refer to Fort McMurray as Fart McMurray. First it gets picked up by the usual suspects: grammar nerds who have noting better to do than correct companies. But there’s a fart in there, so before you know it, Buzzfeed, Funny or Die and Vice have gotten wind. Now you’re front page news — and so what if it’s for the wrong reason. You’ve got people talking. Except by this point, Mayor Blake and Premier Notely are making noise, going on about how the people of Alberta have gone through enough over the past few years — and now you’re comparing them to flatulence. You’d think they’d just let this one pass, but why would they when this kind of stuff’ll get them at least a few hundred votes next time around.
4. You have a crush on your printer.
You love his voice; the way he says your name; the way the ink on his hands always has a hidden message in it just for you. So yeah, you don’t mind finding reasons to keep going back to him with reprint after reprint. And, of course, even the smallest thing is cause to make the trip and spend the money: something simple like Canadian vs American spelling or an “its” vs. “it’s.”
3. You want fewer customers.
Not proofing your work is the perfect fix for this. With one typo, you clearly demonstrate you don’t care about your reputation enough to put your best foot forward for yourself so there’s no way you’d do it for anyone else. So sit back and wait for the phone to never ring.
2. You like feeling stupid.
Hey, we don’t judge. People get off on all sorts of things. Maybe you’re into people mocking you? Maybe you’re the person who always sits front row centre at a comedy club so you get picked on by the talent?
1. You want to meet the Grammar Vigilante of Bristol.
A big-budget movie production with larger-than-life stars set up shop in a small New England town. That’s the story of State and Main (2000), and about a hundred movies before it, notably Sweet Liberty (1986) with Alan Alda and Michael Caine.
But State and Main’s different. Because of this guy.
This is David Mamet. He can write dialogue like this from Glengarry Glen Ross, a play he wrote that got turned into a movie. Amazing, right? But what makes Mamet such an incredible writer is his range. Sure, he can drop F-bombs with the best of them (and he does in GGR — 139 times to be exact). But he can go the other way too, which he does in State and Main. You’ll hear a few choice curses here and there, but it’s the restraint he shows from scene to scene that makes it sing. Because you’d expect the characters to be swearing like…
Baldwin. Parker. Macy. And the late Hoffman.
Of course, a screenwriter is only as good as the actors he has to work with and the director at the helm. Mamet had the second part covered in State and Main, as he directed it himself. But the talent he had was unquestionable. He had Alec Baldwin (a GGR alum) and Sarah Jessica Parker as the Hollywood elite, Philip Seymour Hoffman as the screenwriter, Bill Macy as the director and a wonderful performance by character actor David Paymer as the hot-shot producer who comes in halfway through as unexpected muscle — funny given he’s known in cult film circles for this little ditty:
Too many lines to choose
Some movies have a line that defines it. “That’s not a knife.” “You talking’ to me?” And “You’re gonna need a bigger boat” come to mind. But with State and Main, the whole script defines it. It’s almost impossible to pick the best zinger. Actually, that’s not true — it’s fairly easy: