Sometimes, when watching a movie, there happens to be a character, nay, an actor, who elicits such a response by his or her performance that one cannot help but be overwhelmed by emotion, nay consumed with that most uncontrollable fire (add an another “nay”, for emphasis): the fire of hatred. Seriously, you thought it would be praise? No, we don’t do that. Not here, no way. That’s just silly (Did you honestly think… pfft, oh you).
Ok, so what’s the deal with Gilbert Godfrey. Seriously. What is the deal? I mean really, come on. Come on, really. Now slow your roll, I know all about his history (because I know everything. Everything. All of it.), but why? I just don’t get the appeal of the voice. Some movies enjoy employing the tactic of taking a character and making him the most irritating person imaginable by giving them a voice as painful as eating the shards of a blue Coca-Cola glass during the summer of ’98 (don’t ask). Another great example of this is Chris Tucker. The reason this example is great is because of how great the magnitude of my hatred is for him. Being loud doesn’t make a person funny; if that was the case, fire-alarms would make people laugh far more often (as opposed to the occasional chuckle). And don’t get me started about Nicolas Cage. There is far too much wrong with his “acting” to merit anything short of a fifty volume investigation (because, in all likelihood, he is not real and is some sort of illusion caused by a mixture of dehydration and voodoo).
Mike Myers isn’t any better (unless that’s how the British really are. Seriously, they aren’t. Right? Are they?). Now put down the javelin (how’d you get a javelin anyway?) and hear me out. Of all his most recent movies, how many haven’t employed fart jokes? Right. Has Seann William Scott been in any good movies, ever? And what about Angelina Jolie? She’s hot (What? Come on, she is, admit it. What? Oh, a problem with her? No, no problems).
You really can’t blame someone for hating an actor; sometimes we just irrationally hate people (You, you are part of us, don’t deny this). Sometimes that hatred is warranted (Tobey Maguire owes me money, big-time), sometimes it’s completely ludicrous (How can you hate Don Cheadle? What is wrong with you? I mean really, you should be ashamed.); but it’s there, and sometimes that’s enough.