Southwest Airlines' Celebrity No-Fly List

Kevin Smith shouldn't feel too bad. He's not the only celeb who's been unjustifiably kicked off a Southwest flight. These scorned and weary travellers have all faced the shame of being asked to immaturely depart. These are their stories.

Samuel L. Jackson

On December 19th, 2008, Sam Jackson was booted from Southwest Flight 291 and subsequently arrested for attempting to get a game of "hot lava" going with the other passengers. An eyewitness account states that "[Jackson] just kept hopping from seat to seat--refusing to touch the floor. It was mildly entertaining."

Later, when airport security questioned the actor, it was revealed that the in-flight movie was 2007's Resurrecting the Champ in which Jackson starred. According to the Best Supporting Actor nominee, he "had had it with these [explicative] [explicative] [explicative] [explicative] on these [explicative] [explicative] planes." Jackson eventually cooperated with security when a fast-thinking stewardess laid down a trail of crushed Sprite cans, explaining that they would serve as stepping stones to protect his feet.

Flight 291 departed on schedule and Jackson was released later that evening. As for the in-flight movie, one passenger was overheard saying "It was mildly entertaining."

Danny Trejo

Southwest looks down on a lot of things. And while you'd think that 22 counts of rape would make that list, it wasn't until Danny Trejo's twenty-third sexual assault that the airline chose to make a formal objection. On September 3rd of last year, the Grindhouse actor forced 78-year-old Colorado native, Bettie LeForge, onto the drink cart and proceeded to "rape the everloving hell out of that old lady," said 79-year-old Colorado native Jim LeForge. According to a Southwest representative, Trejo had been repeatedly warned that his rape count was nearing the offical limit. When asked for his opinion on the airline's rape policy, Trejo simply replied, "I guess I'll be flying JetBlue."

Bruce Willis

9/11 was a difficult time for many Americans. For those unfortunate enough to own stakes in New York tourist traps such as Planet Hollywood, the days following the national tragedy meant a steady loss of revenue dollars. For Willis, things became even tighter after two of his films, Bandits and Hart's War, failed to perform at the box office. But things really bottomed out for the talented actor on January 22nd, 2002. As most of you probably remember, Willis had a press junket to attend in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida but a mix-up with his coach ticket forcing the actor to "McClaine his way" onto that plane.

Just minutes before the plane was schedule to take off, Willis knocked out one of the airline's baggage attendents, slipped into his clothes, and climbed up inside the plane. Armed with a handgun (although no one, to this day, knows why) and a determined spirit, the Die Hard actor slid through the narrow corridors and mechanical compartments, heading towards his seat in the back of the plane. As the media reported back then, everything was going well for him until his cellular phone began to ring. Alicia Keys' Fallin' echoed throughout the plane and Willis was quickly apprehended.

The widely publicized arrest led to Southwest dropping all charges, which originally included "Possession of a Firearm on an Airplane" and "Narrating the Film North." The airline, hoping to safe face in the midst of the Homeland Security insanity, made a public statement denying that anyone had snuck onto their aircraft and that their airplanes were the safest in the world. Rumors circled that Willis had plans to sue the airline but an undisclosed source told reporters that they settled out of court for a $100 dollar Southwest voucher (value = $45.00).

So, as you can see, Kevin Smith isn't alone. Southwest Airlines has been targeting celebrities, for reasons unknown, since at least 2001. So, we at He Shot Cyrus, would like to encourage you to boycott Southwest and travel with a different airline until this injustice ends. We at He Shot Cyrus would also like to encourage you to fly with someone other than JetBlue as they have just unveiled their "Unlimited Rape" package, starting at only 39.99 in select cities. Thank you.

You Killed Quentin, You Basterd

Inglourious Basterds is my least favorite Tarantino film.

That being said, it might not be the worst QT project (but it might be that too). There are quite a few redeeming qualities to be found...and you don't even need to look that hard. The opening scene where Landa subtly interrogates the dairy farmer sets the film up to be a masterpiece. These two relatively unknown actors sliding well-crafted dialogue across the table to one another filled twenty of the most enjoyable minutes I've had this summer.

The introduction the titular characters, our Nazi-killing hero squad, was exactly what fans were waiting for. Head bashing, scalpings, and bright yellow Superfly graphics lead us to believe that the Tarantino roller coaster is right on track. What more exciting than watching the scalps come off, the skulls get cracked, and the swastikas get carved. By the end of the misleading scene, you're ready to be wowed in the usual Tarantino way. Unfortunately, that's pretty much where the fun stops.

Basterd's scenes take their time to develop, which helps the interrogation opening scene but serves as a detriment for others. For example, when Soshanna is ordered to a luncheon with Fredrick Zoller and Nazi Propagandist Joseph Goebbells, the scene serves to move the plot along and then plays on and on until eventually the director's merciful enough to yell "cut!" The weak attempt to build suspense was fallible to anyone who'd ever seen a movie before. Follow that with the underwhelming "tavern scene," which was about twenty minutes too long, and you've created the perfect formula for an uninteresting second act.

The third act was definitely interesting but lacked the "coolness" flair that pushes Tarantino movies past their competitors. Bridget's plan to blow up Hitler and Co. was interesting enough but it have been better served as it's own movie and directed by a more subtle director. What happened here was that an interesting storyline (Jewish girl debates whether or not to blow up her beloved cinema to avenge her slaughtered family) battled it out with a captivating concept: (Jewish soldiers form a hit squad and they're promising 100 Nazi scalps a piece) and the first party won. Each plot could have been the basis of a great film but the combination of the two resulted in a...lackluster film.

Here are some other thoughts I've had since my opening weekend viewing:

* There were too many characters. The Basterds get lost amongst the rest of the cast and none of them, Brad Pitt included, are given nearly enough screen time.

* Too many long, drawn out scenes. Some of them try to build suspense (the luncheon scene, for example) but fail. Others just serve little to no purpose. "The other book was called '24 Frame DaVinci' and it was about...blah blah blah"

* Brad Pitt's character was a complete caricature. And I liked it. Some writers speculated that any shortcomings of the film would come from Pitt's performance but that's the least of Basterds' problems.

* Mike Myers' awful performance might have been the worst part of the entire movie. Did anyone else get that the fat guy was supposed to be Winston Churchill? Even the British film critic was completely unneeded. The scene was a shameful excuse for Tarantino to convince us that he knows about film pre-Vanishing Point. Bleh...

* Christoph Waltz (Landa) is the best part of Basterds. He acts his ass off and deserves a spot on any Top 5 Tarantino-Directed Performances list ever to be written. He refuses to let his character appear layerless at any point. Landa is the most developed character, partially because he gets so much screen time, but also because the script left room for the actor to flesh out the human behind the words.

* Overall, the biggest problem with the film is that it didn't know what it wanted to be. Was it trying to be a stylistic violent satire complete with Samuel L. Jackson voiceovers and Blaxploitation logos for introducing characters? A Coen Bros.-inspired dark comedy? An ultrapatriotic World War II fairy tale? My Dinner with Hitler? Even at 2 1/2 hours, the narrative spreads itself too thin and instead of getting one or two plots that we really care about, we get three or four that we don't.