My Idol: Fuller McCallister

My dream is to one day write, direct, and produce Home Alone. 5--the movie that could've and should've come between Home Alone and Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. It starts out just like Home Alone--every scene is exactly the same--but instead of following Kevin McCallister and all his shenanigans, it's about Fuller, Kevin's cousin/the most compelling character in the movie, and whatever was going on with him during the time that Kevin was alone in his home. 


Fuller McCallister is my idol because he wears suspenders and because he has fly hair, but mostly because he never, ever goes easy on the Pepsi. He knows drinking Pepsi before bedtime is just going to make him pee all over the place and he knows that everyone knows this about him, but he doesn't care. He hits that Pepsi hard and fast. Fuller hits that Pepsi like a champ. There's a lesson to be learned there, my friends. A lesson about Pepsi and how you should never go easy on it. 


In another world, Fuller and I are BFF. We devote whole evenings to not going easy on Pepsi. 

After these marathon Pepsi binges, we inevitably slip into a sugar induced quasi coma and end up peeing all over the hide-a-bed...

and Kevin. 

It's really gross, I know. But what are you gonna do? Go easy on the Pepsi? Yeah right. When I die, my headstone will read: Here lies Amber. She did not go easy on the Pepsi. Her pee was bright yellow and globular.


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Can this song please be my ringtone? 

Bummer #2: Angels in the Outfield

With complete, innocent, and sort of enviable Christian sincerity, a friend of mine once told me that she'd be thrilled to finally be face-to-face with her guardian angel. As far as I'm concerned, there's no scenario where an angel just appearing out of nowhere could be anything less than 100% horrifying.

Despite the foreboding title, Angels in the Outfield is not a horror film; it's one of those heart-tugging, inspirational jobs. 


But it's also kind of a drag. 


Perhaps, not an overt or overwhelming drag like My Girl, but it definitely has it's moments. One scene specifically sticks out in my mind and, next to the phrase "it could happen," is what I associate most with this movie...


Al and his seraphim horde have "helped" the last-place California Angels advance to the division championship. When the final game starts, Al materializes in the dugout and tells Roger that the team must win this one on their own--angels apparently have a real arbitrary sense of morality. Al then serves up a delicious piece of gossip about grizzled pitcher Mel Clark--who'd been taken off the disabled list during the initial stages of the angel infestation.

Mel only has six months to live and Al delivers the news with such nonchalance, sort of sugar-coating the tragedy of it by saying that after Mel eventually succumbs to lung cancer or emphysema or whatever (Al mentions that Mel has been a smoker for years), he's going to become an angel. 


Wings are cool; not being dead is slightly cooler. 


This scene probably isn't going to make anyone cry, but still, it's a total bummer. It's also incredibly calculated, obviously meant to heighten the emotional drama and give the outcome of this championship game more weight. Al says he's dropped by to "check up on Mel." Seriously, what's he checking? I'm no expert on the subject but I'm pretty sure that angels can "check up" on people from Heaven or the 8th dimension or wherever they're from. So, why is he really there? The whole thing feels kind of contrived and plot device-y. Somehow, though, that fails to diminish my enjoyment of  Mel slow-mo catching that game-winning ball.

In spite of my usual anti-angel stance, I'm definitely pro-Angels in the Outfield. Sometimes, I suppose, it's all right to have your heart manipulated a bit by conveniently tragic plot points, if that manipulation is (a) in service of a really good finale and (b) thorough enough to spawn two direct-to-video sequels.