You know what’s difficult? Generating column ideas. You’d think with the vast movie-watching experience I bring to the table I could churn out columns like Keanu Reeves churns out crap. (“Street Kings”? “The Day The Earth Stood Still”? Really, Keanu? That good will from “The Matrix” has officially run out; might want to give Alex Winter a call and see what he’s got.) Nothing could be further from the truth, however, as the purveyors of this website could tell you if they weren’t too busy collecting gift bags and selling the contents on e-Bay. Hey, who wants a “Yes Man” nodding bobblehead? Only thirty-nine hours left to bid… So when Chris sent his fifth e-mail asking for a holiday movie column I typed “yes.” I meant to type “no,” but my hands were sweaty from holding on to all of the guilt I’ve accrued from ducking Chris’ column requests for so long. I’m kidding of course; my hands were slick with tears from my viewing of “The Wrestler” . See my review for details. In keeping with the (supposed) holiday theme of this column, if Santa doesn’t bring Mickey Rourke and Heath Ledger Oscar statues this year they need to burn the whole fucking thing to the ground. For God’s sake, one’s career is dead while the other actually IS dead; if those storylines aren’t in Oscar’s wheelhouse, what is? Besides, with Obama in office, what is Sean Penn going to bitch about in his speech? We need a Rourke/Ledger combo platter to liven things up for the home viewer. Ledger’s a win/win; either an awkward family member gives a weird tribute speech, sweat pouring from their head as they keep saying “G’Day” while spitting kangaroo meat all over the podium, or –even better – dead guy means no speech, just more clips from “The Dark Knight”. In fact, fuck the Oscars, just show “The Dark Knight” twice consecutively; same length of time, better ratings, and I dare the band to try to play Batman off after 60 seconds. Not unless you want to pull a Batarang out of your ass, Mr. Conti. Mickey Rourke has to win for one main reason, and it’s not the performance. Don’t get me wrong, the performance is worthy…in fact, maybe too worthy, as the prevailing theme of “washed-up former star clinging to relevance” might hit a little too close to home for the older members of the Academy. I’m not sure if Sally Kirkland can look past the obvious parallels to her career to see the brilliance Rourke brought to the screen. Actually, I’m not sure Sally Kirkland is allowed to vote for the Oscars anymore. You know what, Sally Kirkland might not be allowed to vote in ANY elections anymore. Vote tabulators around the nation got tired of her writing herself in for everything from President to her own stamp to whether or not the Rabbit should get the Trix. Silly Sally, Trix are for the significant. No, Rourke has to win for the simple reason that his acceptance speech will make David Niven and the streaker look like any year’s award for costume design. If you enjoyed Jack Palance doing pushups, wait until you see Mickey Rourke shadow-boxing for eleven minutes while surrounded by his menagerie of teacup poodles. The guy is bananas; I’m betting if he wins he kisses Halle Berry, whether she’s in the building or not. He’ll find her, no matter how long it takes. Okay, enough stalling, this is supposed to be a holiday movie column. The problem is I’m not a holiday movie guy; sure I could have whipped up a top ten list or something, but then you’d think you were at Cracked.com and forget to buy Doug Benson’s movie. My wife should be writing a holiday movie column, as her love of everything holiday actually makes me excited for this time of year. She’s partial to “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” on Thanksgiving, and all the big ones at Christmas: “34th Street”, “Christmas Story”, Christmas Carol”. Her favorites are “Christmas Vacation” and, of course, “It’s A Wonderful Life”. In fact, she had a decent idea for the column: cast a remake of “Wonderful Life”. I thought tampering with a classic was a bad idea, even in print. What if some smart-ass 24-year-old development guy sees it and runs with it? Millions of hearts are broken, and the Ghost Of Christmas Ruined shows up to haunt my dreams. By the way, the Ghost of Christmas Ruined? Keanu Reeves. You learn something new every day. I’ve never been known for my better judgment, and I’m not going to start now, so here goes… “It’s A Wonderful Life, 2009” Directed By…Steven Spielberg The Capra wannabe of his generation. I look forward to the awkward, happier ending he tacks on to the already happy ending. Maybe aliens come down to give George space money, landing their ship on Mr. Potter’s wheelchair in the process. George Bailey…Tom Hanks The role he’s been training for his whole life. I wanted to go with Clooney, but he might be a little too smirky. If we want to go more intense, hello William L. Petersen…although I don’t know why we’d want an intense Christmas movie. “It’s A Wonderfully Intense Life”? Wait, that could be fun; scratch Spielberg, get me Aronofsky on the phone. Let’s see Mary and Violet Bick going ass to ass. Mary Bailey…Diane Lane The age difference is a little off, but I don’t care. Diane Lane rules, and it saves me from putting Katherine Heigl or Reese Witherspoon in here. Mr. Potter…Anthony Hopkins “Nixon” shows that he can pull off the American accent, and “The Silence Of The Lambs” shows that he can pull off the evil. No doubt, Hopkins is my “warped, frustrated old man.” Uncle Billy…Billy Bob Thornton His performance in “Bad Santa” alone assures him a place in any Christmas movie I make. Not to mention Uncle Billy was a drunk who looked like he smelled like chewing tobacco and sadness, so Billy Bob slides in nicely. Clarence The Angel…Shia LaBeouf Hey, if it worked for Indiana Jones it will work here. Wait, what’s that? You say it didn’t work for Indiana Jones? Mr. Spielberg politely disagrees. There you go, the cast of “It’s A Wonderful Life, 2009”. I know what you’re saying: “Mike, what about Mr. Martini? Sam Wainwright? Mr. Gower the druggist?” To that I say it’s 2009, my friends…we’re gonna CGI the shit out of ‘em. Happy holidays.