Charlie Sheen Implosion

Tom Sizemore: the 1990s Charlie Sheen?

I'm a giant fan of Tom Sizemore. There's something uncompromisingly heroic about the way he's lived life to its fullest and unselfishly pissed away all the good fortune that came his way. This is the guy who went from major roles in blockbuster movies (Pulp Fiction, Saving Private Ryan, Blackhawk Down, etc.) to sleeping on a garage floor in Whittier, CA, and getting busted for faking a court-mandated pee test by way of a product called "The Whizzinator". This is the stuff of legend. Sample Sizemore anecdote:

"I never really drank before," he says. "I'd always used narcotics until two years ago, not cocaine, the other one. I came home drunk and asked my wife for the cooking wine. She refused so I said, 'I'm going to the store.' She said, 'If you leave, I'm calling the police.' I said,' F*ck you.' So she hits 911 and I'm like, 'Alright, you win,' and she hangs up. Minutes later, six police officers were at the door. They shouted 'Step the f*ck outside.' I said, 'Suck my f*ckin' d*ck, get on your f*ckin' horses..." I started some cowboy motif that I never finished because they grabbed me."

So where was I going with this random fan babble? Oh yes... Charlie Sheen.

For a while, Charlie was threatening to overtake Tom Sizemore in my personal Valhalla of the Hollywood Heroes. All that talk of tennis ball-sized cocaine chunks, tiger blood and porn stars locked in closets piqued my curiosity. Then he basically says "f*ck you" to NBC and launches a new career as a live performer. Wow. "This'll be good" I thought...

But no.

Sheen's Webcast turned out a boring slab of sub-frat crappiness that the Hollywood Reporter labeled "cable access at its worst". Then his first live show ended 20 minutes early because the crowd booed him off-stage and left. Sorry, Charlie, you ain't no Sizemore for the aughts.