Something strange and terrible is a-brewing in Hollywood. Candyland is going to be made into a movie, and to add to the weirdness, Adam Sandler will star in it.
I’m very confused about this sudden compulsion to make movies about board games. Though Jumanji was one of my favorite movies growing up, that wasn’t a movie inspired by a board game, it was a movie about a really crazy, terrifying, and awesome board game. There is a distinction to be made. Battleship is actually a movie that’s coming out, and apparently the Ouija board and Monopoly were other games that were supposed to inspire movies. This leads me to believe that soon Guess Who will be made into a crime-drama set during a really bizarre interview with a witness.
“Did your person have brown hair?”
And then everyone who didn’t have brown hair got punched out.
I’d be intrigued by a Guess Who movie. Unlike Candyland, Guess Who inspires very fond memories of my childhood. My brother, my cousins and myself used to get very creative when playing Guess Who, and instead of utilizing the standard questions about hair, eye color, glasses, hats, and gender, we asked probing questions like, “Does your person look like a child molester?”, “Does your person look like he watches really freaky internet porn?”, “Does your person still live in his mother’s basement?”
As you may have gleaned from the last paragraph, I have deep misgivings about Candyland being turned into movie, not only from the standpoint that the idea is as dumb as the time I asked my friend if he thought I would get scurvy because I rarely eat fruit, but also from the standpoint that Candyland is the source of my disillusionment about my childhood. To add insult to injury, I actually like Adam Sandler, I find him weirdly attractive, and yeah he stars in some shitty stuff, but he also stars in not shitty stuff, so I don’t want him or anyone else I even remotely like near this abomination of a project.
My tale is a sad one, but it’s time I tell it to the world. Perhaps it will help others and make a difference in this world.
My parents, apparently, did not share my love for Candyland, nor did they feel the need to be ruthless when it came to having their young child as an opponent. It is my firm and unwavering belief that had my parents been dedicated to training me in the art of Candyland, I would now stand before you as the reigning world, or perhaps intergalactic, Candyland champion. My sage advice and startling insights to the game would be an inspiration to children everywhere. Bobby Fisher and I would be compared in scholarly articles and books would be written about my life. If only my parents hadn’t decided to take the easy way out and manipulate the game so that I would win as quickly as possible just so they didn’t have to play anymore. High-Ho! Cherry-O was similarly ruined for me. Nothing was sacred to these people. As you may have previously read in one of my posts, my mother wouldn’t even buy me an Easy Bake Oven. Just because they read this blog on a regular basis, show relentless support to all my endeavors, and buy me sushi when I’m home doesn’t absolve them of these crimes.
For a good portion of my life, I thought I had a talent for randomly selecting cards that advanced my characters to Gumdrop Mountain first. I grew up thinking that meant something; I wore that knowledge like a shield. It made me who I was. And then one day they took that from me. It was like I suddenly understood what it felt like for your parents to pull you aside after eighteen years and tell you that you were adopted or that you had HIV and they never told you (this happened on an episode of Private Practice so clearly this directly corresponds to real life).
Now this movie is dredging up these bad memories for me, and what’s worse is that I have a sinking feeling that where Adam Sandler goes, so does Rob Schneider. God help us all.