The King of Booze: Abel Ferrara

Iconoclastic filmmaker Abel Ferrara—director of the Christopher Walken classic “King of New York” and Harvey Keitel’s viscerally devastating performance in “Bad Lieutenant”—is regarded as a cult legend as much for his hard-livin’ lifestyle as his raw, disturbed take on cinema.

We call him from NYC at 4 a.m., Rome time. He’s been hiding out in an Italian hotel for two months, where he’s rumored to be developing a new film with some mysterious confreres. It’s unclear what exactly he’s been doing, but whatever it is involves alcohol.


Ready and Abel.


How’s it going, Abel?
“It’s alright…So what do you wanna talk about?”

Would you be comfortable talking about your favorite beer?
“Budweiser all the way! I mean, call ’em up and tell ’em like, you know, ‘Nobody pushes it like us.’ There’s no like the King of Beers. There’s nothing like it, you know what I mean? Believe me, I’ve drank thousand-dollar bottles of wine. They don’t come close to a... a Jersey Bud.”

Now are you talking about a can or in a bottle?
“Only in a bottle. But only twenty-twos. It’s a bitch to get them over here man. It’s no easy matter.”

What’s the drinking situation in Italy like?
“Um, yeah, I’m breaking them into Budweiser.”

The imports, right?
“Naw, they make ‘em here. Budweiser European. You know, we actually went to the source. We were in Czechoslovakia where they actually... where the original formula is.”

What’s it called? Budvar?
“Bood-vice-er.” [Phonetically, like a lisping Dracula]

What’s the best city for drinking?
“Czechoslovakia man. What was the city? Bratislava.”

Oh yeah, that’s the spa town.
“Yeah, that’s the joint, bro.”

What’s so good about it?
“Every bar has its own beer. You know what I mean? Like Budweiser, it’s like all they drink in that bar. Then you go to another bar, and then it’s like.... If you’re into beer, ya know what I’m saying.”

You’re a movie person, so you’ve got to be around fancy people drinking girly drinks.
“Yeah, fancy champagne, we [movie people] drink. You know what we drink here.... Bellinis, Prosecco. You know what I’m saying?”

Does that just whet your appetite, or does that get you going?
“What gets me going is Budweiser, homes! You know, a Jersey Bud. Twenty-two ounce. Double-D. The Double-Deuce of the D.”

Last I saw you, you were talking about Asia Argento.
“Yeah, fuck Asia Argento.”

How do you find these ingénues? Like what do you look for?
“They look for us, you know what I’m saying? You got no choice. I mean, Asia Argento shows up, what are you going to say? You know what I mean? Have you got the nerve to say ‘No’? What was that joke.... ‘You ain’t going to throw them out of bed for eating crackers.’ ” [He laughs, mumbles, passes the phone to his friend, who we speak with for a while, and then the international connection is lost....]

The above interview was conducted in 2004 and was intended for publication in a magazine I was co-editing. The article was written by Byron Karl, but it never saw print, so Celebrity Cola is printing it here for the sake of bettering mankind—or something.

Note: Celebrity Cola prefers local breweries to Budweiser, because Budweiser is The Man. Unless the Bud is free. Or really cheap. And we’re short on cash. Then we’ll drink anything. We can be really sad and desperate like that, on occasion. Is this the most heartwarming and edifying story you’ve ever read, or what?


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Better Than Beer: There's no need for alcohol when you can boil your mind with the idiocy of frivolous lawsuits. Visit Overlawyered.com for frequent updates on who's suing whom, and why. Hangover guaranteed.

Definitely Not Sober: the Donnie Darko FAQ at StainlessSteelRat explicates many of the mysteries of Richard Kelly’s film/tonal thriller but doesn't delve much into the superior, confusing director’s cut. The “Donnie Darko: Fishing for Meaning” discussion at Arts & Faith is also insightful, although no one has adequately solved the conundrum of why the psychiatrist was secretly giving Donnie a placebo or why she and Drew Barrymore seem to know more about the plot than they’re letting on...

Jedi Theocracy

What if priests and monks could physically manifest their connection with God through the use of telekinesis? What if the Pope was a little green man and the Vatican Council promoted the use of laser swords for settling religious and political debates?

Well, we’d be living in the universe of George Lucas’ “Star Wars,” of course, where the only alternative to strict religious rule and mind-numbing political bureaucracy is an evil, democratically empowered despot of pure evil who patriotically promises to protect his followers from terrorist-like attacks from infidels.


Yoda Pope (image courtesy of tribal_tiger).

At the F13.net forums, a chap named Litigator clarifies the subconscious feelings of Jedi-haters everywhere:

Here’s the thing about Star Wars: the Jedis were never cool. Han Solo is cool. That’s why Han got the girl and Luke got his hand cut off. If you saw Star Wars and wanted to be a Jedi, you are a fucking loser.

The whole new trilogy sucks by definition because there is no Han. Fictional galactic politics is stupid, especially since Lucas’s conclusion is that society is best left in the hands of a bunch of religious fanatics who wave around huge glowing phallic symbols. Harrison Ford cruising around in a space hot-rod with a giant gerbil sidekick shooting stuff and shagging babes with weird hairstyles is cool. Without him, Star Wars takes itself too seriously.

You can’t even blame George Lucas. He had a pretty good idea of the thing to start out with, and it’s been ruined because it’s now taken too seriously. I blame the fans for this. The problem was that a lot of dorks decided they wanted to be Jedis, and started pretending that they were. They created a huge demand for more star wars stuff, and, of course, it all had to be internally consistent because their fantasy lives inhabited the star wars universe, and anything that jeopardized their suspension of disbelief might cause somebody to have an asthma attack.

was great when it was about a midget in a trash can, a giant in a monkey suit, and Harrison Ford being cool and spouting off cool one-liners. The [original] trilogy, including the Jedi [storyline], is some of the best entertainment ever laid on film. Now that it’s dork-porn for people who hate their lives, nobody can enjoy it anymore. The fan community is the reason the new trilogy sucks, and is probably also responsible for George Lucas’s chin receding into his neck.

My big beef with Lucas is that he is altering the original films to be more consistent with the wretched masturbatory nerd fantasy that the Star Wars franchise has evolved into. He’s been seduced by the Dork Side. And he gave the nerds exactly what they wanted in the new trilogy, but they can’t realize it because nothing would satisfy them. They’ve merely adopted the observation by film lovers, who are kind of geeky, but not nearly as pathetic, that the new trilogy are poor movies.

Actually, as a kid I wanted to be a Jedi. But then again, I was also on the chess team. Reexamining the situation, I'd have to agree that Han Solo is cooler than any conservative Jedi celibate. But damn, those lightsabers are copacetic...

Another F13.net user notes what many a sci-fi cinephile has repeated endlessly since seeing the dreck that was “Star Wars, Episode I: Battle of Whiny Kid and the Silly Robots.” Says Riggswolfe: “My perfect prequel trilogy would have had Anakin at Luke’s age or a little older. Episode 1 would have been what is currently Episode 2 with maybe a 15-minute flashback showing young Anakin. Episode 2 would have covered what we only have in cartoons currently, ‘The Clone Wars.’ And Episode 3 would be... well...Episode 3.”

Well said. Besides Jar Jar Binks being one of the most cloying, one-note characters in film history—and the often yawn-worthy political-debate sequences, the badly handled Immaculate Conception concept, the stultifying performance by the usually competent Natalie Portman, and the ham-handed plotting—it was the choice of turning Episode I into a fart-joke lovin’ little kids film about a pratfall-prone hovercraft hotrod prodigy that really destroyed the potential of the “Star Wars” prequels.

Instead of mucking about with digitally adding new, unnecessary sequences to the original trilogy (and stopping Han Solo from shooting Greedo first!), Lucas should go back and completely re-edit Episodes I and II. Chop down the bits that seem like videogame commercials. Give it some edge. Flesh out the bad guys. Add a love triangle between Obi-Wan, Princess Amidala, and Anakin. Replace Jar Jar with Chewbacca, Han Solo, and/or Lando Calrissian-type characters.

Wait... Like the chaps at F13.net and the hundreds of other Star Wars fansites out there, I’m revealing more dorkiness to the nth degree. Let’s just say this: Despite the failures of Eps I and II, the final installment of the prequel tril will certainly clean the bank. Because unlike the political and religious realities of our world, the universe of “Star Wars” has a beginning, middle, and end. And everyone loves closure. It’s irresistible. With the tale’s conclusion, we can take solace in the completion of a myth, even if theocracy is its twisted final theme.

Of course, the religion of Star Wars is also one of self-empowerment and intuition, and not just doctrinaire theology. So remember: I am “Star Wars,” hear me roar.

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See also:

“The Apocalyptic Cosmology of Star Wars” (as a religious text; and technology versus the natural human).

“Star Wars and the Goals of Mankind” (how Christians can become corrupted when they learn to achieve personal satisfaction through the teachings of Star Wars).

“Religious Themes in the Star Wars Saga” (Hinduism, Buddhism, and Christianity in the S.W. universe).

“The Naming of Jedi” (Muslim, Buddhist, Chi, and Joseph Campbell influences on Jedi naming conventions).

“Star Wars Religion Doesn't Make Census” (Australian, English, and New Zealand believers in the Jedi).

“Religion in Science Fiction” (links and resources).

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Kevin Smith discusses the secrets of "Revenge of the Sith" in a spoiler-filled, sweat-soaked memo. (Anakin wouldn't really do that to the Jedi toddlers, would he? Amazing...)