Welcome to a new feature on this blog. I had written one entry in the past, dedicated to Mr. Nicolas Cage. Well, now I plan on it being a semi-regular feature thanks to my growing disgust of Samuel L. Jackson. With that, here's the letter:
It seems your presence is inescapable. This is mostly due to the many movies you appear in this year, and I congratulate you on your continued success. However, quantity does not equal quality. And there hasn't been a quality performance from you in over six years (not including your voice work in The Incredibles or your cameos in Kill Bill: Vol. 2 or Iron Man). Now, if you chose your roles carefully, this would not be the huge problem it is. Alas, it seems you star in anything that crosses your desk and you've done no less than 20 movies in that time. And after each movie, you don't get better, just louder. You're beginning to sound like Dave Chappelle's version of you.
But what's truly frustrating is that you used to be good. Great even. You received great acclaim for your roles in Jungle Fever (1991) and Juice (1992). You were in the second-biggest movie of the '90s (Jurassic Park) and even got a well-deserved Oscar nomination (Pulp Fiction). And you were terrific in A Time to Kill (1995) and Jackie Brown (1997).
Now look what you've become. An over-the-top caricature of yourself. Your recent resumé is filled with poorly-made action films and ill-suited indie projects with great intentions but terrible execution. And don't get me started on some of the bad lines you've spoken lately. And now your next projects look to be the apex of your suckiness: Lakeview Terrace, the latest from the infamous Neil Labute (who I'm surprised was allowed to make another film after The Wicker Man). Let's take a look:
Seriously? "I'm the POLICE! You have to do what I say!" I would say this would make a serious play for the worst movie of the year. But then you top it, camping up the supposed-to-be-awesome The Spirit with the now infamous leaked Comic-Con footage. "Toilets are ALWAYS funny!" Oh, but they're not.
So here's what you do: Call Quentin Tarantino. Fast. If you don't, can't, or won't, you'll just have to retire. Think of it as a tribute to your fallen co-stars Isaac Hayes and Bernie Mac.
Jules Winfield's #1 Fan