Sometimes in the winter, when I'm in a cab, the heat turned up too high, my feet cold and the zouk carrying on through the stereo with its non-stop bass & vibe loop with occasional midi instrument vamp overtop, I close my eyes and re-live, through the power of memory & my own will, the magic of Weekend at Bernies II, which I first experienced during its theatrical release at the Rio Theatre in Vanderhoof, British Columbia during my youth.
I close my eyes, I inhale the sweet cinammon fragrance of my Haitian cab driver, and there I am, in the Virgin Islands. I'm Larry Wilson, the Andrew McCarthy character, because I'm not Jewish like Jonathan Silverman, and I'm not dead so I can't be Bernie, either, though he tends to get more action than either of them throughout the two films) for I have identified with him and the brighter points of his ouevre since my youth.
Yes, combine peaceful islands sounds with a zombified Bernie, throw in hackneyed plot tricks, muddle a mismatch of cultural attributes from all around the region, mix with a blender, and POP! I've got a pseudo-racist Pina Colada of FANTASY to help me endure the cab ride.
I close my eyes, I inhale the sweet cinammon fragrance of my Haitian cab driver, and there I am, in the Virgin Islands. I'm Larry Wilson, the Andrew McCarthy character, because I'm not Jewish like Jonathan Silverman, and I'm not dead so I can't be Bernie, either, though he tends to get more action than either of them throughout the two films) for I have identified with him and the brighter points of his ouevre since my youth.
Yes, combine peaceful islands sounds with a zombified Bernie, throw in hackneyed plot tricks, muddle a mismatch of cultural attributes from all around the region, mix with a blender, and POP! I've got a pseudo-racist Pina Colada of FANTASY to help me endure the cab ride.
