MONDO EXTRAS

When You're Here, You're Mistreated Like Family

by Jacob Clifton August 14, 2005
Pizza My Heart

Every morning over coffee I watch syndicated Gilmore Girls reruns on ABC Family, hoping for a Paris Geller sighting. For the last two months that experience has included -- if I'm too slow on remote control duty -- at least five commercials for Pizza My Heart. And every morning, I'd find myself roaming the house mumbling, "Pizza My Heart? Are you kidding me? That's offensive just because it's stupid. Pizza My Heart? Pizza My Ass," et cetera et cetera. And that was fun but not really helpful, and now here I am watching it, in vastly bigger trouble than I ever thought a simple writing pitch could create. I'm in a state.

So Shiri Appleby and this guy that looks like Ed are climbing a fence near a lemon tree, because we're starting in medias res, which everybody knows means, "Where it's more likely to be interesting." I appreciate the attempt, but honestly, there's not a place in this movie where that would happen. There's a voice-over as they gaze at each other stupidly through the lemons: "Two star-crossed lovers in fair Verona did dwell…Verona, New Jersey, that is…" And see, right there you know what's going on here. So they bitch at each other in the midst of their love, all, "You're a Prestolani!" "Well, at least I'm not a Montebello!" so you know they're all alike in dignity and stuff, except without the dignity, because in there movie this is no dignity.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself here," Liz explains. "It all started…with pizza."

We angle in on the Montebello's Pizza storefront; the sign looks like it was painted by an intern, of course, and we hear the voice of Dan Hedaya, TV's Nick Tortelli, screaming about how he makes "the best pizza in Verona" and then offers somebody an "old world special." We immediately shift over to Prestolani's "better than the best pizza in Verona" and somebody mentions something about "new toppings." See what they did there, with the old world/new toppings thing? There are differences in approach, I think, in the way that the two respective businesses carry out their family traditions. Or some such.

Then there are hands pulling and chopping various ingredients. This would be the best part of the movie, due to no acting, but it wears itself thin after awhile. This is not Eat Drink Man Woman or Big Night or even the second season of The Restaurant, it's you, Pizza My Heart. There's some of that sensitive boy-rock you'd hear on the Creek or in Roswell, I guess, and there's a tomato. And it is chopped. And there is sauce. And then there is cheese. Remember on Sesame Street where the kids would be drawing with crayons and then the kid's giant eyeball and you'd go inside the crayon and learn about crayons? This is like that, but with very fast, never-ending pizza footage. There's dough. Now there's cheese. Then one by one there are a thousand slices of pepperoni. Seriously, that's how we're doing this. This is the opposite of in medias res. There's actual footage of the pizza baking. For real.

The pizzas of the two different places, Montebello and Prestolani, come out of the oven. I don't know if they're supposed to be different in some way. One looks more margherita-veggie-white-pizza and the other looks like an oily pepperoni pizza but I don't know which is which. A skinny dude with a whiny voice takes the Montebello's pizza out to a tiny child on a bike and tells him to take it somewhere. That skinny guy is Joe, who's playing the Romeo part of the star-and-lemon-crossed lovers. You can remember this because Montebello sounds like Montague, whereas Prestolani sounds made up. In parallel, Papa Prestolani also gives his pizza to a tiny child. I'm incensed that they're using kids for delivery. I wouldn't even trust Tobey Maguire with my pizza, but these kids are, like, on tricycles.

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Comments

When You're Here, You're Mistreated Like Family

by Jacob Clifton August 14, 2005
Pizza My Heart

Every morning over coffee I watch syndicated Gilmore Girls reruns on ABC Family, hoping for a Paris Geller sighting. For the last two months that experience has included -- if I'm too slow on remote control duty -- at least five commercials for Pizza My Heart. And every morning, I'd find myself roaming the house mumbling, "Pizza My Heart? Are you kidding me? That's offensive just because it's stupid. Pizza My Heart? Pizza My Ass," et cetera et cetera. And that was fun but not really helpful, and now here I am watching it, in vastly bigger trouble than I ever thought a simple writing pitch could create. I'm in a state.

So Shiri Appleby and this guy that looks like Ed are climbing a fence near a lemon tree, because we're starting in medias res, which everybody knows means, "Where it's more likely to be interesting." I appreciate the attempt, but honestly, there's not a place in this movie where that would happen. There's a voice-over as they gaze at each other stupidly through the lemons: "Two star-crossed lovers in fair Verona did dwell…Verona, New Jersey, that is…" And see, right there you know what's going on here. So they bitch at each other in the midst of their love, all, "You're a Prestolani!" "Well, at least I'm not a Montebello!" so you know they're all alike in dignity and stuff, except without the dignity, because in there movie this is no dignity.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself here," Liz explains. "It all started…with pizza."

We angle in on the Montebello's Pizza storefront; the sign looks like it was painted by an intern, of course, and we hear the voice of Dan Hedaya, TV's Nick Tortelli, screaming about how he makes "the best pizza in Verona" and then offers somebody an "old world special." We immediately shift over to Prestolani's "better than the best pizza in Verona" and somebody mentions something about "new toppings." See what they did there, with the old world/new toppings thing? There are differences in approach, I think, in the way that the two respective businesses carry out their family traditions. Or some such.

Then there are hands pulling and chopping various ingredients. This would be the best part of the movie, due to no acting, but it wears itself thin after awhile. This is not Eat Drink Man Woman or Big Night or even the second season of The Restaurant, it's you, Pizza My Heart. There's some of that sensitive boy-rock you'd hear on the Creek or in Roswell, I guess, and there's a tomato. And it is chopped. And there is sauce. And then there is cheese. Remember on Sesame Street where the kids would be drawing with crayons and then the kid's giant eyeball and you'd go inside the crayon and learn about crayons? This is like that, but with very fast, never-ending pizza footage. There's dough. Now there's cheese. Then one by one there are a thousand slices of pepperoni. Seriously, that's how we're doing this. This is the opposite of in medias res. There's actual footage of the pizza baking. For real.

The pizzas of the two different places, Montebello and Prestolani, come out of the oven. I don't know if they're supposed to be different in some way. One looks more margherita-veggie-white-pizza and the other looks like an oily pepperoni pizza but I don't know which is which. A skinny dude with a whiny voice takes the Montebello's pizza out to a tiny child on a bike and tells him to take it somewhere. That skinny guy is Joe, who's playing the Romeo part of the star-and-lemon-crossed lovers. You can remember this because Montebello sounds like Montague, whereas Prestolani sounds made up. In parallel, Papa Prestolani also gives his pizza to a tiny child. I'm incensed that they're using kids for delivery. I wouldn't even trust Tobey Maguire with my pizza, but these kids are, like, on tricycles.

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