I've already figured out Armond White

And it didn't take much!

In our initial coverage of Mr. White, we discovered a film critic (sorry… movie critic) who was equal parts contrarian and confounding. The guy clearly likes to go against the grain, in hating every movie critics like and liking 20% of the movies every critic hates. Through it all, he makes sure that every movie is interpreted socially and politically, often coming up with the most bizarre analyses possible. It really made me wonder, just what the bazooka actually goes on inside his head as he watches these films? How does he watch Blades of Glory and conclude--with a completely straight face--that it's a gay rights film?

Well, I've figured it out. It's a bit rough, but here's the formula so far:

1. Before the film starts, Armond inserts ear plugs and applies a blindfold.
2. At an entirely random moment in the film, and often in an act of sexual passion (extrapolation – ed.), he tears off the blindfold and rips out the plugs.
3. He exposes himself to one scene.
4. He reapplies the blindfold and ear plugs.
5. He repeats this maybe once or twice more throughout.
6. For the remainder of the film, he works on filling in the blanks. He starts with the basic facts, making up characters and plot as he goes along. More impressively, though, he derives from these few scenes the socio-political message of the film and decides that it is the only possible interpretation there is.
7. He asks himself whether or not he agrees with this message.
-a. If he agrees, he gives the film a good review.
-b. If he disagrees, he gives the film a bad review.
-c. If he agrees but the film doesn't make him leave with a smile, he gives it a bad review anyway.
8. He gets referred to as "the conscience of American film critics" in his Wikipedia page.

As I said, it's rough. I don't know for sure whether the blindfold/ear plugs is right; he might have headphones or just fall asleep easily.

So what's to thank for this cultural breakthrough? None other than Darren Aronofsky's glorious film, The Wrestler.

Positive reviews: 172
Negative reviews: 3, if you actually count Armond White.

In order to prevent myself from hyperventilating or injuring myself in the forthcoming coverage of Armond's review, I've decided to join The No-Cussing Club. All untoward cuss words will be replaced by NCC-approved replacements. Warning: might induce giggling!

As a middle-aged, small-time wrestler living in a New Jersey trailer, Rourke’s Randy “Ram Jam” Robinson,

Welp, strawberry milkshakes, there it is! That was my clue! Randy "Ram Jam" Robinson. From this point forward, Armond will only refer to the main character of the film, whose various names are spoken countless times throughout, as Ram Jam.

Ram Jam.

That was not his nickname, you fettuccine-roll. He goes by "Randy," or "Robin," or "The Ram." "Ram Jam" is the name of his signature wrestling move. No one in the film ever refers to him as "Ram Jam." "Ram Jam" is the most spelunking horrible nickname a person could ever have.

This wouldn't be such a huge deal if the film didn't make such a big deal about his name. Alas, we now know one of the few scenes Armond was paying attention to: Randy was in a wrestling match, about to execute his move, and the crowd is shouting the words "Ram Jam." This is the only sassafrassing time the term is spoken throughout the entire film. Armond White, you are a complete, total cumquat.

Remember, this is a guy who said "I am not the least bit interested in reading the opinions of people who don’t know what they’re talking about. There, I’ve said it." Armond White does not know the name of the main character of the film he's reviewing. There, I've said it.

Jason Statham voiced more eloquent regret in Death Race; Ram Jam just wants pity.

I'm not going to even going to respond to that first clause. That would be a low blow.

To the second statement though, I have this to say: SO JEK PORKINS WHAT?

Is this seriously a criticism? I'll play along and pretend that "Ram Jam" does indeed only want pity. So what? Is a character not allowed to want pity? Is a protagonist only allowed to be as noble and admirable as can be? Has Armond White ever heard of moral ambiguity? Has he ever liked a film that urges the viewer to root for an imperfect character? No?

Worst of all, Ram Jam confesses in an old amusement park where he and daughter Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood) go to reminisce about the good ol’ days. It’s lousy irony because nothing about The Wrestler is amusing.

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Good to know he woke up during this stretch of film, for just long enough to think up a lame quip. Also, it wasn't an amusement park, it was Asbury Park. Still holds, though, because nothing about The Wrestler is asbury.

Full of self-inflicted lacerations and injections, Ram Jam is his own voodoo doll. Everything he does is an act of masochistic penance—very strange in an anti-spiritual movie.When his stripper girlfriend Cassidy (a superbly buck-naked Marisa Tomei) recommends he watch The Passion of the Christ, it’s another lead-pipe irony.

And this is the social commentary. It's "anti-religious." Because… lol u got punked, he's not gonna say why! That's all he says about the subject of religion. Ironic, seeing as he only mentions it in a sentence in which he admits it doesn't work. It's kind of like saying, "It's strange that Home Alone's plot involves a child being home alone, when it's clearly a movie about togetherness and unity. I am not going to tell you why." Or, "it's strange how Hitler killed all those Jews, when Hitler actually liked all those Jews." (we totally have enough of an audience for a running joke!).

I saw The Wrestler today with John!, and in terms of interpretation, we both agreed that it's very easy to read the film as religious parable. We also agreed that there is no way in spatula that this film can be construed as anti-religious.

You know, I think these replacement cusses might actually work. That "spatula" was really forced. I have no desire to scream at Armond anymore… I just wanna cry.

Ram Jam responds, “Tuff, dude,”

No, he doesn't, and if he did, how would you know that he spelled it "tuff," you bunkum.

Sanctimony like this appeals primarily to cynics who scoff at Mel Gibson’s sincerity yet cheer Aronofsky’s repulsive, violent nihilism.

I would like anyone who reads this to tell me exactly how The Wrestler could possibly be seen as nihilistic, because I just don't see it. And if you can answer that, tell me what makes The Dark Knight nihilistic, and then tell me about every other movie Armond White hates because he thinks they're "nihilistic." Is it because "violence"? Apparently Armond fell asleep right before Cassidy starts comparing The Ram Jamming Jammer to Jesus Christ in Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. Because that's what happens. In the movie.

The message that life is hell is a pseudo-intellectual’s version of professional wrestling bunkum.

Hey, Armond's a member too!

People too smart to appreciate the fun and insight of the wrestling comedy Ready to Rumble lap up the irony that Ram Jam is ready to die.

Because I know you were curious: Ready to Rumble has an RT score of 24%. This is what the video cover looks like:



At least Lance Bass looks somewhat happy.

Rourke’s too good for this crap

According to Wikipedia, Armond White is such an amazing critic that he's allowed to say this.

And please, Armond, replace that "c***" with a "flapjack" like the book tells you.

Forget The Wrestler’s hype; it’s worth remembering Rourke’s finest performance and best film,Walter Hill’s 1989 Johnny Handsome.

Yes, this film was only enjoyed by one person.

Ram Jam is a distorted white working-class stereotype, but Aronofsky can’t tell courage from vainglory, foolhardiness from sacrifice.

ahahahaha I was gonna make a joke about Armond's faulty space key, but apparently "vainglory" is actually a word. This is the guy who just called everyone who didn't like Ready to Rumble "too smart."

Final thought, Armond?

Shame on Bruce Springsteen for contributing a self-pitying title song to Aronofsky’s indie artsiness.

Leave Bruce out of this, you applesauce-fucker.