Rob Schneider Goes Off the Deep End

The other day, I was subjected to a showing of Taxi on a United flight. Not to be confused with the French film of the same name, which I enjoyed (due to the setting and companionship), this one features Jimmy Fallon and Queen Latifah.

I was talking to my brother about it, and he said that while he was first against the idea of Fallon in feature films, he soon came around. “Look at Rob Schneider,” Jeff said. “He did The Animal and we haven’t had to hear from him since.”

Well I got bad news, brother of mine. Schneider is back, and he’s pissed:

Patrick, I can honestly say that if I sat you your colleagues at a luncheon, afterwards, they’d say “You know, that Rob Schneider is a pretty intelligent guy, I hope we can do that again.” Whereas, if you sat with my colleagues, after lunch, you would just be beaten beyond recognition.

It reads like a personal e-mail, but it’s actually a full-page ad in Variety, according to this writer. (I’d love to give a first-hand scan, but Variety is hella expensive: $300/yr.) Schneider’s ticked that LAT reviewer Patrick Goldstein made a swipe at him:

The other [Oscar-]nominated films were orphans — ignored, unloved and turned down flat by most of the same studios that eagerly remake dozens of old TV series (aren’t you looking forward to a bigger, dumber version of “The Dukes of Hazzard”?) or bankroll hundreds of sequels, including a follow-up to “Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo,” a film that was sadly overlooked at Oscar time because apparently nobody had the foresight to invent a category for Best Running Penis Joke Delivered by a Third-Rate Comic.

You can see above that Goldstein mentions “a follow-up to Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo.” Oddly, Schneider completely misconstrues this as shoddy research:

For the record, Patrick, your research is shabby as well. My next film is not ‘Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo 2.’ It’s ‘Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo,’ in theaters EVERYWHERE August 12th 2005.

If Goldstein (mis-)used that title, I missed it. Just like I’ll miss you, Rob, when you implode in a supernova of suck.

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