Max-stravaganza

Prior to Pulp Fiction , John Travolta was stuck in Hollywood purgatory.  After star-making turns in Saturday Night Fever , Grease , and Welcome Back, Kotter 1 , he struggled to find his footing as a dramatic actor.  No matter how many times he insisted that he wanted to be taken seriously, all audiences saw was a chubby guy in his late twenties who would never live up to his potential 2 .  Travolta would find some box-office success in the  Look Who's Talking franchise, which only type-cast him as a *gulp* goofy love interest for *shudder* Kirstie Alley. Then, in 1994, Quentin Tarantino offered John the part of Vincent Vega, a relatable sociopath whose tough guy exterior yet insecure pathos seemed to mirror Travolta's real-world persona.  The first time audiences heard "royale with cheese," Danny Zuko suffered a horrible, mafia-style assassination to the sounds of Ezekiel 25:17.  Travolta received an Academy Award nomination and found...

Superman has kryptonite. Mike Tyson has Buster Douglas. Vince Young has grammar. We all have our weaknesses. But mine is a little bit more embarassing than any of the aforementioned (apart from VY's hatred of the present tense): dumb romantic comedies. Yes, it's not something that I like to admit and it's a vice probably better suited for the Probie or Sean Garrity , but I just like to sit down for an hour and a half, turn my brain off and watch two people fall in love. And apart from the Hanks/Ryan classics (which were ruined for me after Meg ditched Dennis Quaid for Cinderella Man ), there is one thread that links all of my favorites: Hugh Grant. I mean, just look at the guy. When he's not getting arrested for picking up hookers on Sunset (here's a better shot of the man), he's the epitome of the 90 minute romance. He's got "endearingly befuddled" down to an art form, he's also got perfect comedic timing and if you've ever seen hi...