Posts Tagged goonies
The Goonies is inarguably the best movie ever made and I’m sure we all agree on that. But it also masks a dark, disturbing reality when you peel away at its shiny veneer. Some sad-but-probably-true facts about The Goonies:
1. “You’re gonna live with me now, Sloth.” Yeah right.
Most parents won’t let their kids bring home a stray dog, let alone a 7-foot mentally-disabled mutant that smells “like phys-ed.” So when it’s suggested toward the end of the movie that our hero Sloth might be heretofore staying with The Family Chunk, you can bet that his parents put the kybosh on that fantasy the second they were out of earshot from their fellow Goonies. Nope, sorry fans, Sloth probably lived out the rest of his troubled life in some medium-security halfway home for adults living with fetal alcohol syndrome – hopefully sans chains.
2. Um, what scary octopus?
The novelization of the movie released the same year describes a scene where the Goonies encounter a man-eating octopus in the cavernous waters where the pirate ship is secretly harbored. The scene was even filmed and then later deleted, only to be seen 20 years later upon the DVD’s eventual release. But you know what scene they didn’t cut? The scene toward the end of the film where Data curiously exclaims to the fawning reporters that “the octopus was really scary,” leaving the original viewing audience with no other alternative but to conclude that Data is clearly a devious liar, prone to embellishment, if not outright deceit. Nope, sorry fans, but the movie’s editors were clearly Asian-hating racists.
3. How many Baby Ruths does one Chunk need?
Toward the beginning of their adventure, Chunk bemoans of hunger, begging his friends for a Baby Ruth candy bar. And yet not 20 minutes later, and without stopping at any corner store for a sugary treat, Chunk tries to appease the creature Sloth with a Baby Ruth candy bar that he pulls FROM HIS OWN POCKET. Nope, sorry fans, but your beloved Chunk is a crafty sociopathic liar, hoarding the very same sustenance of which he deprives his friends.
4. We hate you, fatty.
That clever bowling-ball-initiated Rube Goldberg machine that opens Mikey’s gate toward the beginning of the film is a curious concoction. Because even if one were to go and replace the inflating/bursting balloon after every entrance (negating the whole purpose of the automated gate in the first place), you still would be faced with the fact that a hen only lays an average of one egg per day, and hence the Mikey household could only receive one visitor per day. Yet there are multiple visitors to the home within the first 15 minutes of the film. Only Chunk is forced to humiliate himself for this entrance, meaning the whole sham is just a ruse portrayed by his so-called friends as a punishment for being a fat liar. Nope, sorry fans, but the Goonies are passive aggressive dicks.
5. Good luck with all those aquamarines.
Sorry Mikey’s dad, but a handful of semi-precious stones is not going to stop the bank from foreclosing on your home the day before the bulldozers arrive, let alone the homes of all your son’s Goonie friends. And if you’ve read the original script, which I’m sure you have, there are scenes where Mikey’s dad is portrayed as being – how shall we say – very Sloth-like in mental aptitude. So his triumphant tearing-of-the-contract moment was probably only a minor delay to the whole foreclosure process at best, and at worst it was just a desperate show put on for the benefit of naïve children. I doubt even Father Mikey actually believed they were free and clear of the bank’s greedy grasp. Nope, sorry fans, but the majority of those Goonies probably found themselves homeless in the following weeks, wishing they were Sloth in that half-way home, where at least they could get three squares a day.
6. And while we’re on the subject…
Who says you’ll actually get to keep those gems anyway? Nope, sorry fans, but those Goonies probably left that beach poorer than when they arrived.
7. “No write?? No… pen??”
So wait, in the beginning of the movie Mouth knows the Spanish words for every illicit drug and sexual torture device in the Urban Dictionary, but he can’t remember the translation for the verb “sign” toward the end of the movie? Nice try Mouth, but you’re clearly milking the tension created by that drama for all it’s worth. Nope, sorry fans, but Mouth is an opportunistic prick who preys on the power he gets as he wields his sadistic control over desperate people in desperate situations.
8. The Asthmatic Holocaust
In a particularly climactic moment, Mikey – wheezing from Asthma – is suddenly able to toss aside his inhaler with a defiant “Awwww, who needs it?” Well, you know who needs it, Mikey? How about the 3,500 people per year who die from Asthma-related attacks. That kinda makes Sean Astin the Jenny McCarthy of Asthma deniers. Nope, sorry fans, but The Goonies is probably responsible for more deaths than you can count on 100,000 fingers.
9. You break it, you bought it.
Sorry, Chunk, but that probably was a deposit bottle. That one’s on you.
Here’s to hoping they make that long-promised sequel, so that we can sort this whole mess out.
The Goonies is 25 years old this year. And I can still remember the first time I ever saw it. Vividly.
I was ten years old – prime Goonie-lovin’ age – when it was released in theaters. My mother planned an outing for my friend Timmy Crocker and me to see it on a Wednesday. When we picked up Timmy, he started blabbing about how he had already seen the movie that previous weekend and how awesome it was. I was deflated.
By the time we reached the theater, he had summarized the entire plot of the movie. And he ended with this warning: “Man, there are so many skeletons in that movie… man, if you don’t like skeletons, you’re going to HATE this movie!”
I didn’t mind the skeletons at all, but I was surprised that he had completely omitted the malformed-manchild-chained-up-in-the-basement part of the movie, which really freaked my 10-year-old-sh!t out.
I was only friends with Timmy-the-Buzkill-Crocker for a couple more years, when one morning before school another classmate approached me to tell me that Tim had told everyone that I had cheated at a boardgame called Squiggle, and was therefore totally lame. I recall the game of Squiggle in question very vividly as well, and truth be told, I have no idea if I cheated or not, because I totally did not understand how to play the game but was pretending like I did. Timmy Crocker was a tad smarter than Dan was, you see, and I thought it was probably better to have the reputation of being a cheater than someone who was not smart enough to understand the needlessly complicated rules of a game called Squiggle. So I just let it slide. But Timmy Crocker didn’t hang out with me much after that.
Goonies is still one of my all-time favorites, though. Even if it was ruined for me in advance by the the Squiggle champion of the world.
ps. There is a board game out these days called Squiggle that is completely different than the game of my youth. One has something to do with drawing doodles and the other one has something to do with lots of colored blocks with random point values and shaming children who are not smart enough to play it. So try not to confuse the two.