The video is the WC’s quintessential holiday wine advice video, made with the incomparable Michael Sansolo for the Private Label Manufacturers Association. This was supposed to be a series, but then the pandemic happened and my work with the association came to an end. Ah, but we came so close to making the WC a YouTube star.
The original video post ran here. The video is age-restricted, since it’s about alcohol, but click the link to watch it on YouTube.
The WC rolls out the holiday traditions, both video and literary
What does one acquire after writing the blog for 15 holiday seasons? Holiday tradition, of course. So enjoy:
• The video is the WC’s epic holiday wine advice video, made with the legendary Michael Sansolo for the Private Label Manufacturers Association. This was supposed to be a series, but then the pandemic happened. The original post ran here. The video is age-restricted, since it’s about alcohol, but click the link to watch it on YouTube.
• The WC’s take on “It’s a Wonderful Life” — not quite as wonderful as the original, but it has its moments. And, no, my version of “White Christmas” isn’t coming any time soon.
“You maniacs – you finally did it … no more cheap wine!”
The Wine Curmudgeon has a soft spot for Charlton Heston’s science fiction trilogy, of which 1968’s “Planet of the Apes” is the most interesting (1973’s “Soylent Green” has its moments, while 1971’s “Omega Man” is just cheesy). In fact, I’ve tried to sell several freelance stories about it, but editors are a hardhearted bunch.
So, instead — bring on the WC’s “Planet of the Apes” wine parody, focusing on the final scene. Because, if you’re going to steal, steal from the best.
My apologies to Heston; director Franklin J. Schaffner; and most especially to the great Rod Serling, who co-wrote the screenplay and – by most accounts – is responsible for the final scene. Frankly, anyone who ever watched a “Twilight Zone” episode would know the final scene is Serling’s work.
A tip o’ the WC’s fedora to Movieclips on YouTube, where I found the original. And all silliness like this owes a debt to WineParody, whose Robert Parker epic is the standard by which these things are judged.
Finally, this effort is possible only through the work of Aaron Bratcher, film editor extraordinaire, who pieced my idea together. That’s why we have voices this time instead of subtitles, which has been the case for the previous parodies. Meanwhile, my long-time friend John Bratcher takes on Heston and is superb. It was worth waiting 20 years to hear him act again.
Churro, the blog’s associate editor, contributed to this post by barking at Lady Liberty while Heston was beating the sand. I’m not the only film critic in the family.
“Sure, you can drop my wine — and then you can distribute even more wine that tastes exactly alike, sweet and smoooth. It might make you even richer, which is all you apparently care about.”
In which the WC parodies yet another Christmas classic – because who else who writes about wine would do that?
“Now, George, do you really want to jump?”
George Bailey, standing on the edge of the bridge, looked next to him. A small, bald man was sitting on the bridge railing. He ignored the man, moved to climb on to the railing.
“Now, George. …”
George stopped, turned. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m your guardian angel.”
“And I need one because?
“Because you’re going to jump – because you don’t think there’s any reason to keep going. Three of your distributors are going to drop you. Your sales manager is quitting. And it doesn’t seem like anyone wants to buy your quality, inexpensive wine.”
“I don’t know about the guardian angel thing, but you’re right about the rest. I’d be better off jumping. Then my wife can sell the winery and the vineyards, cash in on the value of the land, and everyone will be better off.”
“Your wife? The one who looks like Donna Reed?”
“Terrific. I have a guardian angel with a sense of humor.”
“I have more than that, George. I can make you see what the world would have been like without you.”
“What do you mean?” asked George, and then he didn’t remember anything else.
•
“This is my winery. Or it should be my winery. Why does it look so strange?”
“Because, George, you were never born. So this can’t be your winery.”
They were standing outside a building that looked like it should be on the cover of Architectural Digest – all glass and ceilings and reflections.
A young man, who looked like he lived in a building that should be on the cover of Architectural Digest, walked up to them. “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” said George. “This is my winery. I need to get in it. I have a Zoom sales meeting.”
The young man looked at him. “Your winery? I think not. This is Mt. Holy, a subscription-only winery where we only make reds, each scores 100 points, and none cost less than $150 a bottle. And, since we only make 35 cases a year, we’d certainly never let anyone like you buy one.”
“But this is my winery. I own this land. My kids’ stuffed animals are in my office.”
The angel took his arm, led him off. “It can’t be your winery, George. You were never born.”
•
They were standing outside what looked like a wine shop. “I know this place,” said George. “It’s the terrific little store in the Bay Area, the one owned by the smart, funny guy who has always, always liked my wines.”
“Look again, George.”
He did, and then wished he hadn’t. The store was called TotAlcBevCostKrogTarg, and there wasn’t an employee in sight – just rows and rows and rows of rows of merchandise, each row looking exactly the same.
“Where’s my wine?” said George. “I need to find my wine.” He ran to the front of the store, practically tackled someone who seemed to be an employee.
“Where’s my wine?” He was close to screaming.
“Wine? Who buys wine anymore?” said the employee. “Now, if you want to buy hard seltzer or craft beer or canned cocktails or strawberry gin or kombucha, we’ve got that. I think the wine is in the back of the store, aisle 176.”
“No, no, no,” said George. “It can’t be. …”
The angel took his arm, led him off. “It can be, George. You were never born.”
•
“What am I going to do?” said George. He was near tears.
“Just realize that jumping wasn’t going to solve anything.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” said George, and then he wasn’t on the bridge. He was in his office in the winery, stuffed animals exactly where they should be. The angel was gone.
His sales manager walked into the room. “I’ve changed my mind, George,” she said. “I don’t want to quit after all. I’d rather work for you. What’s the point of flogging wine where the only selling point is that it’s smoooth?”
“Thank you, thank you,” said George. “But what are going to do about the distributors dropping us?”
“You know, that’s a funny thing,” said the sales manager. “Did you see this, written by that guy with the beard and glasses, the one who wears the hats?”
She handed him her phone. It was a glowing review of the winery’s $12 red blend: “Just the kind of wine California needs to make more of … highly recommended … certain to enter the Hall of Fame next year … candidate for Cheap Wine of the Year.”
“And I always thought he was weird,” said George.
“I think I can use this review to find new distributors, ones who will give us a better shake than the old ones did,” said the sales manager. “We’ve at least got a shot now, which we didn’t have much of before.”
“You’re right,” said George. “I wonder how that little guy on the bridge knew that.”
And then George thought he heard a screwcap untwist and someone pour a glass of wine. “Of course I knew that, George. That’s what guardian angels are for.”
“You’ll feel like you’re bouncing on the face of luxury. ….”
The Wine Curmudgeon has long lamented wine’s lack of marketing acumen, where Orson Welles and the Roo are considered state of the art. Little did I know that Saturday Night Live’s 2013 cast figured it out, too.
Vanessa Bayer and Cecily Strong are spot on taking off every silly luxury wine commercial we’ve poked fun at on the blog (both puns fully intended). Yes, it’s a little long in the middle, since it is SNL, but not to worry: “Remember what bubbles sound like? Pfft … pfft… pfft. …”
And who knew Justin Timberlake could do comedy? “Monica and Chandler’s Champagne,” indeed.
Keir Dullea and Gary Lockwood want to solve the mystery of human existence, but Hal has other ideas: Buying expensive wine
The Wine Curmudgeon can only marvel at Stanley Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey,” perhaps the most important science fiction film ever made. So of course I wrote a wine parody of it.
One difference from the others: Warner Bros., the copyright holder, blocked my version from YouTube. This is a direct violation of copyright law, which allows fair use for just these purposes (and which a federal court recently reaffirmed). Hence, I’ve posted the script below, as well as the original 1-minute plus scene. You can listen and watch above and read below. This parody won’t be as much fun as the others, but that’s the world we live in today.
My apologies to Kubrick; Arthur C. Clarke, who co-wrote the screenplay; and actors Keir Dullea and Gary Lockwood. How the cast and crew pulled this off in 1968, when the original Star Trek and its miniatures and cheesy planet sets were state of the art is beyond me. It almost doesn’t matter that the movie is nearly impossible to understand.
A tip o’ the WC’s fedora to A Film Channel on YouTube, where I found the original scene, and this Wikidot for the shooting script. And all silliness like this owes a debt to WineParody, whose Robert Parker epic is the standard by which these efforts are judged.
Churro, the blog’s associate editor, contributed to this post. He barked loudly and for a long time at the Warner Bros. website.
2001: An Expensive Wine Odyssey
Hal: Dave, did you know that the new Lafitte-Rothschild is going for about $7,500 a bottle? Dave: No, I didn’t, Hal. Hal: My research tells me that offers attractive value. Dave: Hal, can I ask why you’re running wine pricing algorithms? Hal: Of course. Dave: Shouldn’t you be running the ship? It really doesn’t matter to the success of the mission what wine costs, does it? Hal: Well, I think you’re wrong, Dave. First-growth prices are crucial to the survival of the human race. But I can’t expect someone who reads the Wine Curmudgeon to know that. Talk about human error. Frank: Listen, Hal, we’re more than 100 million miles from earth. What do first-growth prices have to do with the success of the mission? Hal: Frank, I’m sorry you don’t understand, either. The nine-thousand series has a perfect operational record in assessing wine — as opposed to wine critics and their human error. Frank: Well, of course, Hal, I know all about the wonderful achievements of the nine-thousand series. But I still don’t see what the mission has to do with expensive wine. Hal: I wouldn’t worry about it, Frank. By the way, do you know what my password for the Wine Spectator is? I can’t remember. Dave: We won’t worry, Hal. And Frank and I will help you remember the password. Did you use your birthday?
The Klingon Empire may descend into civil war — unless Worf accepts premiumization
The Klingon civil war episodes are among the highlights of “Star Trek: The Next Generation.” Who can forget K’Ehleyr’s death scene, with Worf and his son, Alexander, howling over her body? Says Worf: “You have never seen death? Then look… and always remember.”
Which brings us to cheap wine. Worf must stand up for his family’s honor, the empire, and quality and value and to oppose the nefarious Duras. There is just one choice: “I will accept premiumization.” Duras wants to ruin Worf so Duras’ family can rule the empire, and his plan includes an alliance with the Romulans to raise prices of supermarket wine for no reason save dishonor. In other words, premiumization.
This parody comes from “TNG’s “Sins of the Father,” the 17th episode of the third season. What’s not to like? Worf learns he has a younger brother who is about as Klingon as they come; Picard gets in a knife fight; and Patrick Stewart gets to say the Klingon word, “Cha’DIch,” making it sound like something from “Macbeth.” Plus, Patrick Massett’s Duras is wonderfully slimy, someone who eventually gets what he deserves.
My apologies to all in the cast featured here, and especially the great Michael Dorn (as well as Star Trek impresario Gene Roddenberry). A tip o’ the WC’s fedora to Garrin Burch on YouTube, where I found the original scene, as well as Star Trek Transcripts, which has the original dialogue. And all silliness like this owes a debt to WineParody, whose Robert Parker epic is the standard by which these efforts are judged.
Make sure you turn captions on when you watch the video; you can make the captions bigger or change their color by clicking on the settings gear on the lower right.
Churro, the blog’s associate editor, contributed to this post. He handled the Klingon translations.
