So…because I’m one of many people who is stuck at home due to this snowstorm that has shut down almost the entire East Coast and also because I’m a glutton for punishment who can’t just simply Netflix And Chill and enjoy the day off, I’m going to sit here and live-blog all
thirty-three twenty-four chapters of R. Kelly’s Trapped In The Closet on YouTube, which you can also watch here if you have a couple of hours to kill and care nothing about your psychological well-being. If I end up at any nearby hospitals due to severe alcohol poisoning, you know why.
This is from a recent encounter on Twitter last week between myself and R. Kelly:
That’s pretty much it. And now on to business…
The opening shot shows up that this is all taking place in Chicago. Except instead of just using B-roll footage that actually shows Chicago, we get a Chicago that looks like it was made by the same model and set designers from Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.
I’m sure it isn’t normal to wear almost all of your clothes to bed after coming home from the club and having drunken sex with the woman you met the night before. But then again…this song has 33 chapters, so I can safely say that normalcy has been abandoned a long time ago.
“You can’t leave, my man is about to walk through the door.”
“I have to get home to my wife. Who hasn’t called my phone once despite the fact that I’ve been gone all night.”
“But you can’t leave.”
“Damn that, I’ll jump out the window.”
“You’re not Omar and this isn’t Season 5 of The Wire. Get your ass in that closet!”
“He looks at the closet, I pull put my Beretta.” Kells, I’ve watched enough action movies in my lifetime to know that is NOT a Beretta you’re holding, that’s a .45. But that’s going to be the least disturbing thing that grabs my attention during this live-blog.
Sylvester, instead of holding off the husband at gunpoint and leaving the apartment to get home to his wife, decides to stick around and explain himself as to how he ended up in bed with the man’s wife.
Pastor: “I should’ve know you’d do some bogus shit up in my house.” For a pastor, he sure does curse a lot and with NO hesitation whatsoever.
Mrs. Pastor: “I’m sorry.”
Pastor: “Not as sorry as you’re going to be.” Fortunately, this pastor isn’t being played by Ronald “Mr. Biggs” Isley and instead of whipping out his sword cane because he’s about to catch a case, he calls his OWN SIDE-PIECE to come back to the apartment so that Mrs. Pastor will find out the truth about what he’s been up to.
(If you, the poor unfortunate soul that you are, have no idea what any of that is in reference to, just watch this classic video and resist the urge to sing along…)
And as it turns out, it’s not a woman who Pastor has been seeing on the side, but A MAN!!!
(Just accept the fact that I’ll be using that a LOT during this increasingly drunken live-blog)
Mrs. Pastor: “Sylvester, don’t leave. Wouldn’t you like to know how it all began?”
Sylvester: “No, bitch! Didn’t you hear me say I have to leave and go home to my wife?”
Which is probably what he should have said. Instead, Sylvester grips the Idiot Ball he has glued to his hand and says: “You have three minutes to explain this.”
Yeah, three minutes. Good luck with that.
When Chuck, side-piece to Pastor a.k.a. Rufus, reveals to Cathy, a.k.a. Mrs. Pastor, that they’ve been seeing each other for a year and that they’re in love:
“I decided to call home and a man picked up my phone.” And we get to see Sylvester driving home through the streets of Chicago in some of the WORST green-screen footage possible.
Hey, everyone! It’s Michael K. Williams as the police officer pulling over Sylvester and ticketing him for speeding.
And this ridiculous sex scene between Sylvester and his wife ends with the greatest lyric in all of music: “OH MY GOD, A RUBBER…Rubber…rubber…”
Mrs. Sylvester: “You know that police officer who pulled you over and gave you a ticket, the one who you never actually mentioned to me since you came home and we were both in that ridiculous sex scene? Well, he’s the one I’ve been sleeping with.”
I don’t blame you for laughing and shaking your head at all of this, Sylvester. I’m pretty much doing the exact same thing.
Well, I’m also doing this as well…
James The Police Officer, if you’re going to roll up in people’s houses with your weapon drawn, you could at least whistle “The Farmer In The Dell” while doing so.
I’m not sure whether this horrible Southern accent is supposed to clue us in to James The Police Officer’s wife being White and/or Southern, but he really needs to stop. You sound as convincing as John Malkovich with his “Eef yoo do not haff my money, yoo vill die” Russian accent in Rounders. Which was one of many great things about Rounders. And which I should be watching instead of this. (sighs)
R. Kelly, get your fake-ass Rod Serling self out of that kitchen closet!
Apparently, this revelation about who Bridget, James The Police Officer’s Wife, is sleeping with is so damn shocking that Sylvester jumps out of the kitchen closet to pause everything (and take our minds off the fact that R. Kelly rhymed ‘cabinet’ with ‘cabinet’ four times) and tell us all that the man Bridget is sleeping with is really A MIDGET…Midget…midget…
Actually, this so-called cliffhanger is more deserving of:
I’m not sure why this is supposed to be shocking, as if little people don’t have sex drives and like to get down. If this were an Autobot or Decepticon that Bridget were sleeping with, then I’d be really impressed.
If you like seeing a buffoonish fight in the kitchen between a little person and Michael K. Williams, followed by said little person shitting on himself afterwards, then this chapter of Trapped In The Closet is for you.
It turns out the little person’s name is actually Big Man. Yes, Big Man. Why is he called Big Man, you ask not?
Big Man (smiling and pointing at his crotch): “Because I’m blessed.”
I could’ve sworn it had more to do with your IMAX-sized forehead that makes you look like The Watcher, but I guess that works too.
All right, R. Kelly, I’m sure you have enough of a budget for all thirty-three of these chapters. Surely, you can afford actual sound effects for ringing phones and police sirens so that you don’t have to (badly) imitate these sound effects yourself.
Oh, good. We needed some homophobia sprinkled throughout this chapter to make the story interesting.
(thinks of how many chapters are left to watch and live-blog)
“You must be crazier than a fish with titties.” Well…there’s a line of dialogue I never expected to hear.
No, really. It’s something that Sylvester actually says out loud.
If you like watching scenes of Black folk in cheesy-looking old-age makeup insulting one another…skip this and watch Martin and In Living Color instead. That will actually make you laugh instead of wondering why, how, and why this chapter wasn’t left on the cutting-room floor.
“A car pulls up to a restaurant, the door opens and someone gets out. First thing you see is some heels and a dress, black shades and a scarf all on her head and mouth.” Well…all we really see is the heels because that’s all you have the camera focused on, but I guess I’ll take you at your word, Kells.
“Hmmm. this waitress looks familiar. Just a feeling.” Oh good, it’s just a feeling. because I’m absolutely 100% convinced that this waitress will never be seen or heard from again because she has nothing at all to do with the rest of this story.
Wait…the waitress is Tina?! And she’s connected to Twan? Who just burst into the diner ready to whoop some ass, but not before taking off his jacket and folding it neatly to place it in the corner before whooping said ass?
OK, Kells, you really don’t need to get that descriptive about all of the things that Sylvester is doing before sitting down to talk to Roxanne and Tina. You’re not Brian Michael Bendis.
By all means, Sylvester…leave your pistol on the counter and walk away from it with your back turned so you can yell at Twan for getting himself arrested in the first place. Granted, it’s not like either Roxanne or Tina make any attempt to grab it for themselves, but still.
When you find out that your ex-girlfriend Tina who got you sent to jail for three years had your baby while you were away, and you decide to step up and be a family man…
…only to find out that she’s now fucking Roxanne. Who announces this by kissing Tina and saying: “I’m fuckin’ her now!”
Sylvester: “Y’all lucky I like that kind of shit, or I’d have shot both your asses.” Oh. Good to know that Sylvester’s homophobia has limits.
Kells, if I wanted to see someone dress up in special-effects makeup and run around on stage pretending to be a pastor, I’d watch Coming To America. At least, we get to see that pastor introduce Randy Watson and Sexual Chocolate.
Having us see Chuck’s mouth in extreme close-up while he recites his lyrics and dialogue is just making me think I’m watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show. The good one, not that horrible reboot with Laverne Cox
Oh, good. More scenes of R. Kelly dressing up in shitty makeup as he plays different characters. That’s pretty much the point of this entire chapter. To see Kells play a pimp with an over-the-top stutter who doesn’t want to stop pimping.
“Now to make a long story short…” Kells, you passed up on that opportunity a long-ass time ago. In short, Randolph overheard Chuck telling Rufus The Pastor that he’s in the hospital and has “the package” (a.k.a. HIV/AIDS) and now his nosy-ass gossip of a wife, Rosie, is going to tell everyone.
Pajiba readers: What do you mean, everyone?
If you liked hearing R. Kelly attempt to change his accent and convince us he’s a White Southern woman, you’ll enjoy hearing him try to sound like what he thinks an Italian gangster sounds like. Fat Tony he is not.
I could express disbelief that these people still have an old-school answering machine, but then again…my mother would still rather use a VCR instead of a DVD player, so who am I to talk?
This entire chapter is pretty much every character trying to put the pieces together and figure out who slept with who and who has The Package and who doesn’t…
“To be continued” How the fuck did this get another ten chapters and yet Guillermo Del Toro making a third Hellboy film is such an impossibility?
That’s how boring this chapter is. It’s just more characters getting more phone calls.
Yay! it’s R. Kelly in bad makeup playing Lucius The Stuttering Pimp again and threatening to slap his hoes and also crane-kick Twan’s face off of his face. All because R. Kelly watched Dave Chappelle play Rick James and say to himself: “I can do that.”
Sweet chocolate Christ, I can’t take any more of this! And judging from Wikipedia….(consults Wikipedia’s page for Trapped In The Closet)…it really does not get any better or more enjoyable to watch or make fun of. When Tommy Wiseau’s The Room is more enjoyable to watch with how horribly-made it is, you know you done fucked up.
Man, how the hell did Courtney do this when watching Love Actually for an entire month straight? I’m flying down to Chicago and buying her all the La Croix as my way of showing my appreciation.
Sorry, I just wanted to use that one last time before wrapping this up.
You can follow Brian on Twitter. But considering that he spent most of yesterday getting into profanity-laden arguments with others in defense of Twizzlers being better than Red Vines…we here at Pajiba recommend that you probably shouldn’t.