The Weekly Box-Office Round-Up / Dustin Rowles
Box Office Round-Ups | October 27, 2008 | Comments ()
5. Pride and Glory ($6.3 million): Didn’t they already make this movie? Like, six months ago? Only it starred Mark Wahlberg, Joaquin Phoenix, and Robert Duvall? It was called, We Own the Night, and nobody liked it, either.
4. Beverly Hills Chihuahua ($6.9 million; $78 million): Another week, another top five showing, as BHC jumps to number eight, all time, for talking animal movies, and number seven, all time, for dog movies. And that cute little dog, Chloe, jumps to number one among pooches I’d like to drop kick into a bed of dirty syringes. Viva Chihuahuas!
3. Max Payne ($7.6 million; $29 million): Though it’s now number 14, all time, for video-game adaptations, Max Payne rises to number four for movies based on shoot-out video games. And, for shits and giggles, quickly — and without looking it up — identify which of these actresses is Max Payne’s Mila Kunis (the other is Jumper’s Rachel Bilson). I think that at least 15 percent will get it wrong.
2. Saw V ($30.5 million): Another Halloween and another Saw flick. This one opened in line with the past three — all but the original opened between $30 million and $33 million, though this one opened a full week before Halloween, so it has a couple more days to rack up grosses before the holiday. It also debuts at number 10, all time, among torture porn flicks. And, with the $317 million plus, the Saw franchise passes the 11 Friday the 13th films and nine Halloween films for the biggest horror-movie franchise of all time.
How does that feel, folks?
1. High School Musical 3; Senior Year ($42 million): $42 million? Fuck me, y’all. This was the weekend’s real torture porn, only sadly no one got a pendulum blade through the torso. If only we could combine the HSM franchise with the Saw franchise and achieve the perfect, gloriously cheesy blood-drenched massacre of East High. Imagine all that perfect, unblemished skin — ripped to shreds with barbed-wire whips and fishermans’ hooks. Efron would have to sing out of the slash in his throat; Vanessa Hudgens’ limbless torso would cartwheel down stairwells; and Ashley Tisdale would have to cut off her own legs at the kneecap to get the key that would save a nail bomb from shredding her.
Wanna play a game? Yes! Yes, I do!
Clearly, I’m not the first to imagine that glory:
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