Super

Well! I’m back from hiatus with an all-new review for James Gunn’s Super, a dark comedy that manages to keep itself afloat despite its association with the now tired superhero genre.

What I have been doing: I’m a photographer and film maker, and recently we moved into our new studio space (yay!). However, that means MOAR WORK (read that to yourself about ten times, and you’ll get the idea). On a related note, we finally released a big-dreams-yet-subpar-results film that we made about 3 years ago. I am considering writing a friendly bashing of my own work. Seems fair, right?

Still from “Good Kids/Bad Kids”

I am also considering expanding The Eyewash Station to include reviews of all media types (commercials, music, print media). Expect more on this in the future.

In the meantime, here’s a long overdue review of one of the most unexpectedly enjoyable films that I’ve seen in a long while. May I present, Super.

If the name James Gunn sounds familiar, it’s probably because you are a fan of gorey horror flicks like his arguably most famous screenplay, Dawn of the Dead (2004 ), or perhaps from his long-standing relationship with the spectacular B-movie generators at Troma. Gamers might recognize his name from Suda51’s deceptively cheerful video game Lollipop Chainsaw (2012).

In retrospect, I’m not sure why I didn’t have faith in Gunn’s ability to pull off something as overdone as a superhero movie. I mean, what has he taken on that hasn’t been overdone? Zombies have been beat into the ground perhaps even more than superheroes – and yet his work has consistently brought a unique light to old themes (well, maybeDawn of the Dead was a little sparse on originality, but we’ll cut some slack since that was a remake anyhow). Additionally, Gunn seems to have a unique feminist flair that doesn’t get acknowledged as often as say, Will Wheaton – perhaps because he is also not afraid to embrace a strong woman’s sexuality. Who says we can’t have a whole damn family of super-skilled zombie hunter sisters and up-skirt shots, amirite?

To say that Super may be the most James Gunn-y film of all time is not much of a stretch. Writing and directing it, his fingerprints of weird are all over – from odd dancing cartoon intros to sporadic over-the-top SFX hallucinations and gore to Ellen Page raping the shit out of Rainn Wilson. Yep. I said it. But don’t worry, Rainn’s wife gets raped, too. Did I mention this is a comedy?

But, I digress. Let’s start at the beginning.

THE PLOT:

Rainn Wilson plays Frank Darbo, a generally shy and quiet grill cook whose only source of happiness is his wife, Sarah (Liv Tyler). We soon discover that Sarah is a recovering drug addict who married Frank while in the infancy of her sobriety, and that she has become involved with drugs again via stripclub owner and general douchebag, Kevin Bacon. Whose name in the movie is Jackques (‘Jock’), but whatever.

“Yum, nice eggs! Also, I’m fucking your wife and giving her heroin! Got any more orange juice?”

Frank has…ahem…..a bit of a meltdown when his wife disappears (he quite literally gets tentacle-raped by God).

“Tentacles!? I thought you said TEN TICKLES.”

And so begins his hallucination-fueled journey to get his wife back under the alter ego The Crimson Bolt, a home-made righteous hero that fights crime by beating it over the head with a wrench.

At this point, I think most people reading the plot on say, Netflix or Redbox or even the back of an actual physical DVD case (CAN YOU IMAGINE?!) stop there. Nothing special, right? I don’t blame you. I stopped there several times myself.

Thankfully, we are introduced to Ellen Page as Libby, a young comicbook store worker who figures out Frank’s secret identity and eventually becomes his kid sidekick, Bolty.

Full of swear and a thirst for violence, Libby pushes Frank’s buttons and advocates for extreme vigilante justice (killing the guy who might have keyed her friend’s car, but she’s not sure). Oh, and she rapes him. Did I mention this is a comedy?

After being raped by Ellen Page, Frank pukes in a toilet and has a vision of his wife calling to him for help. Like, literally the chunks in the bowl line up to make Liv Tyler’s face.

He decides that night is the night, and takes Bolty with him to FUCK SHIT UP at Jock’s house – where they massacre the living shit out of everyone.

THE GOOD:

This. Movie. Is. HILARIOUS. How do I emphasize that enough? James Gunn’s sense of timing and writing is impeccable, and this film is easily the best showcase of his work to date. Armed to the teeth with gritty material, I still found myself howling the whole way through. Well, except like, the rape shit. ‘Cause that was pretty intense. But other than that.

With a cast like Rainn Wilson, Ellen Page, Liv Tyler, Kevin Bacon,  Michael Rooker, and Nathan Fillion  – well, let’s just say that I am impressed, to say the least. Not only does each character have the right amount of star tracing for their role (Rainn is unattractive/unpopular; Ellen Page is kinda boyish; Nathan Fillion is a religious version of Dr. Horrible’s HammerMan) but they are the right amount of parody for their typical roles. It allows the viewer to easily fall into the expected aspects of the character, and be surprised by the extremity of traits counter to the actor’s usual (Riann Wilson beating people’s heads in with wrenches for cutting in line, anyone?). It’s actually quite a beautiful thing to see in a film – actors that are appropriately used for their fame while still showcasing and broadening their actual talent set.

Nathan Fillion has the Holy Avenger (and James Gunn’s cameo as the reoccurring demon)

Additionally, it’s always  refreshing to see such multi-facetted characters (smart, friendly, and a rapist; quiet, loving,and violent).

THE BAD:

Super suffers from something several hero-based movies have struggled with: the inability to blend comic book-styled graphics with the reality of the film. Although Super may get a pass under the guise of Frank’s clearly befuddled mind (complete with visions), it’s not quite enough to justify the sheer intrusion that these graphics can make. Other “comic-y” gimmicks (like fading to bright yellow) come off as stale or contrived. The best use was easily the BAM! WHAM! POWS! that accompanied the film’s climactic massacre, but even then came off as shallow and pandering. It also gave the film a distinct PG-13 feel despite the R-rating. Why suddenly back off the gore now, in the final minutes of the flick? Did the MPAA cry a widdle over the blood? I bet they didn’t bat an eye at Sarah’s rape.

Speaking of, it was a little strange to have two distinct rape scenes happening nearly back-to-back. One being the Ellen-rapes-Rainn scene, and the other being Sarah’s rape during the Crimson Bolt’s attack on Jock. The first one was a very quiet, emotionally charged and slightly horrifying event. Rainn Wilson cries and fights her the whole time, and even throws up immediately afterward.

Sarah’s scene, however, is almost thrown in as an extra. Was it not bad enough she was being used as a drug guinea pig? We have to have her get raped by the biggest, burliest black dude in the film? (who, might I add, is later called the n-word by Kevin Bacon – which fits his character, but still….) The trauma of the event for Sarah is hardly a blip on the film’s radar, except that she occasionally has nightmares.

While we’re on the subject, let’s throw in a huge THANK SPAGHETTI MONSTER that Rainn’s character, Frank, does not get raped and enjoy it. It would have been really easy, so THANK YOU, JAMES GUNN! for avoiding that horrible cliché that undermines actual victim experiences.

THE FINAL VERDICT:

I loved it. I’m recommending it to everyone I know. Go watch it, right now! (I promise I left out lots of details). Final score: 4 wrenches.

The Bay

You don’t need to dive into The Bay – it will pull you in like the tide. Delivering an unexpected thrillfest of dystopian creepy-crawlies, The Bay wriggles out of the jaws of its found footage format and lives to leave mark on viewers…hook, line, and sinker.

THE PLOT:

Claridge, Maryland. A small all-American town founded by an outlying fisherman that now fosters a growing chicken farming industry.

On July 4^th, 2009, an ‘outbreak’ occurred that wiped out over 700 people. It’s really the whole town, basically, but that was the last number I remember hearing. Amateur reporter Donna Thompson was present to report the usual holiday festivities and has spent the last few years attempting to re-gather the government confiscated footage of everything that transpired that night. We are walked through the story via a Skpye interview she is having (with? Why?) regarding her story and the compilation of footage she’s put together (aka, the movie itself) in an attempt to explain what happened that night.

You know it’s later in the plot ’cause her hair is longer!

What we find out via Donna’s increasingly needless droll is that scientists had discovered high toxicity levels in the water around Claridge previous to the outbreak. Although these reports had been sent to the appropriate channels (including the mayor who is – of course! – up for re-election), there had been no movement to alert the area or attempt to cleanse the water. That is, except for Claridge’s water purification plant-y thingamabob, which eases the minds of all around and has even managed to provide more resources for the chicken farmers! Fancy that!

The Thingamabob

Through the collected footage, we see Claridge’s tale unfold from a variety of perspectives – a couple coming in via boat to see the in-laws; dash cam footage from a cop car; conveniently recorded hospital-to-CDC Skype conversations; the eco-scientists video journals; a trespassing animal/eco-rights dude; and of course, Donna’s own “reporting” (I use that word loosely).

“As you can see behind me….wait….”

Also included: other miscellaneous footage that has washed ashore from other victims who never stop recording, even to the brink of death.

“I can’t…find…the off button!”

We learn that contrary to the initial assumption, the outbreak (skin lesions, feeling sick, confusion) was actually symptoms of a quickly growing, chicken-steroid-pumped parasite that is consuming its hosts from the inside out at a rapid pace.

The CDC and local medical community desperately try to save lives via amputation and other treatments, but ultimately these little buggers start chewing through people with silent cries of “Freeeedom!” until the whole town is left decimated, streets and corridors literally littered with hollowed out bodies.

Featuring Miss Crustacean!

THE GOOD:

I’m so sick of found footage movies that I could puke. However, in this case it serves the storyline well. It adds a flair of realism on a story that, although exaggerated, is legitly realistic (the effects of chemical runoff into mostly stagnant bay water). It also allows us to have justified characters that are introduced only to die and allows us to explore all aspects of the storyline (local experience, outside experience, scientific perspective, medical perspective, child’s perspective, etc.) while still feeling cohesive.

The special effects were notably not distracting. I hate nothing more than to get invested in a good horror-type flick, only to have a bad CG moment pull me right back out it. The Bay sticks to subtle post-needs and works them in well, without becoming overwhelming, allowing the plot itself to shine through.

A plot which honestly deserves to be highlighted instead of hidden behind scare tactics. There aren’t so much “jumps” as an overwhelming sense of dread and doom to the whole thing. The carnage feels inevitable and cringe-inducing in a primal way, instead of anticipatory and gimmicky.

THE BAD:

SHUT. THE FUCK. UP. DONNA.

Seriously, I do not need to hear you talk over things that are obvious. Here I am, enjoying some nice pleasant footage before everyone gets fucked in the arse by chemically-altered bugaboos, and suddenly Donna’s telling me “This footage makes me feel sad, because they’re so happy, and they have no idea what’s going to happen.” I know, Donna, that’s the fucking point! I mean seriously, I don’t need a movie telling me “this is sad” and “this is scary,” especially in your deadpan-ass voice. If I can’t tell it for myself, you’ve failed, filmmakers.

People on boats only make me sad because they make me realize that I don’t have a boat.

Most of my hatred is nitpicky – too much voiceover here and there; it sounds like Donna blames the mayor but it’s not really followed up on; what happens to the bugs after they come out of the peoples (they seem to scare everyone in the room and then we don’t see them again); as well as some climactic problems like, why would you film getting off the boat when no one is there and it’s dark and etc etc etc. (character motivation problems). The Bay attempts to explain a lot of these problems with off-shoot lines, but the excuses left me feeling unsatisfied.

See what happens when you fuck with science?! IT EATS YOU.

THE FINAL VERDICT:

The Bay gave me with creepy-crawlies in my belly and a sense of dread – what more can you ask for? This is a well-executed found footage movie and is worth the watch, despite the occasionally obnoxious deadpan voiceover telling you things you already know. The performances are solid and The Bay knows enough to not try to overdo itself. If you live near water or have a fear of things that crawl, watch this one before your next trip to the beach for a true Jaws effect.

Unfortunately, although solid, The Bay doesn’t stand out enough to warrant more love than a satisfied nod. Final score: 3.5 dead fishes out of 5

Oh, p.s. The parasites are real, and yes….they eat tongues.

Clay Pigeons

Pre-Gladiator Joaquin Phoenix battles psychotic widows and crazy cowboys in Clay Pigeons, an unexpected 2 hour indie-dark-comedy-psychological-crime-thriller-(BREATH)-fictional-drama from the director of Wedding Crashers and Shanghai Knights.

Needless to say, get ready for an interesting ride.

THE PLOT:

Small town Joaquin and his buddy Earl go up a-shootin’ in the mountains. What what’s this?! It seems that Joaquin has been sticking his dick in crazy – in this case, Earl’s beloved’s wife – and Earl is taking the opportunity to confront him at gunpoint. In a cowardly, rednecky display of brilliance Earl has planned to kill himself in front of his truck and frame Joaquin for murder. In some kind of attempt to make things better, Jaoquin says he doesn’t care about Mrs. Earl anyway – but it’s too late. Earl shoots himself in the heart, which I suppose is metaphoric.

“Goddamn it, Earl! Gun safety!”

Suddenly, POP MUSIC explodes through the scene, like a terrible song in your head at the most inappropriate time that makes it feel like your ears are bleeding. Thus begins the abuse and misuse of pop music that continues throughout Clay Pigeons, like an annoying juke box in the back of the room that you can’t turn off. Seriously, it feels like it’s not being used ironically as much as obnoxiously.

Anyway, Joaquin manages to pull of covering up Earl’s suicide due of small town idiot cops, but his problems are only just beginning. Earl’s widow, who is apparently Catwoman, expects to just jump back in the sack!

Meeeeeeow

What a slut! I mean, it’s not like they were sleeping together and lying to Earl, so clearly this is much worse now that he’s dead.

Catwoman is a particular brand of psychotic. If there was a crazy contest between her and Cameron Diaz from Vanilla Sky, Catwoman would win for her sheer embracement of the entire DSM. She’s controlling, manipulative, verbally abusive, and always has this smoldering look on her face like she’s burning holes in you and the sofa you’re seated on. Except when she’s getting fucked. Then she’s adorable for some reason.

Fuck me so I can forget myself!

Anyway, Catwoman starts making Joaquin’s life hell, and he decides to solidify his place in the Redneck Hall of Fame by smacking his bitch up in a bar. Vince Vaugh (character: Lester the Molester…not making that up), a drawling cowboy with a fake sounding accent, seems turned on by this and congratulates Joaq on his manliness.

‘Sup, stud

They hit it off until everyone starts dying. Everyone being hot, young females in your area that want to meet you now. They even find a body together and contaminate all the evidence!  They’re Body Buddies now!

Git ‘er done!

But, ce la vie the life of a trucker, Vince Vaugh and his cute hat have to scuttle on their way since he’s eskimo brothers with Joaquin and like, every girl dying. Suddenly Joaq is picked up on suspicion of murder (he’s so surprised! Hurp derp!) by the FBI.

“One I didn’t know, the other I just happened to know, Earl was suic- I mean an accident, and the last girl….well, fuck.”

About this time he gets mad (from what I can tell – I mean, all the expressions kind of look the same) and confronts Vince Vaugh (alone). It’s always intelligent to attack a guy you think is a murder, right?

Eventually it comes down to trusting or not trusting rednecks – Vince, who seems more southern than Joaquin, and the FBI trusting Joaquin and the Podunk Police Department. It’s all this interesting cultural hodge-podge of “why can’t we be friends?” Oh yeah, cause you’re a murdering cowboy.

Yeehaw!

THE GOOD:

Although occasionally plodding along at a cowpoke’s pace, the plot is good. Like a slowly evolving live-action Jerry Springer episode sans moderator, you can pop in Clay Pigeons and enjoy slutty best-friend-banging widow action with a murder to boot!

I’ll see you on daytime TV, bitch!

Just when you’re getting finished with one story line, another one is smoothly introduced.  Good balance of character types – strong women types of both the skanky and the intelligent variety, both dumb and smart farm boys, etc.

The casting and acting is great. Joaquin is not by any means one of my ‘go to’ actors, but he plays oblivious farm boy well. I didn’t realize that he was basically just absorbing everything with an occasional scowl until my second viewing – which sounds backhanded, but it is meant to be a compliment.

“No one understands me…”

Vince Vaugh, while lacking in accent, seems to have half a stiffy for playing Jack the Ripper. Not that I blame him – he does a fantastic job of being a creepy fake-charmer. He’s the kind of guy who is nice in a bar and you have no reason to not like him, but…you know. You know.

Classy

It’s great to see Vince playing a non-comedy role. I can’t say that I don’t think a more serious actor could’ve been cast and possible done it better, but the creep factor of having a well-known friendly face play filet with girl’s fun bags is a treat in and of itself.

THE BAD:

The music made me want to watch this movie on mute. Did Elvis come back from the dead just to retain the rights to his shit after this? Jesus Christ. Loud, badly matched, and intrusive. Even the composed music sounds plunky and distracting.

At times the indie aspect shines through and we’re faced with an abnormally purple sky or a slightly too seductive Catwoman that seems so spicy that I’m pretty sure A Serious Man stole Earl’s widow, grew her up, and made her the pot-smoking neighbor Mrs. Samsky…who I thought was supposed to be a little bit of an exaggeration, wasn’t she?

Left: Catwoman Widow. Right: Mrs. Samsky from A Serious Man.

THE FINAL VERDICT:

Great film that stands the test of time. I was really impressed with this early work of David Dobkin and wish we got this level of artistry and complexity out of him now that he does big studio junk like The Change-Up. I give it 3.5 cowboy hats out of 5.

Vanilla Sky

I can’t quite explain my dislike of Tom Cruise. Something about him screams real-life American Psycho and I spend 90% of his movies hypnotized by his crazy eyes and waiting for him to snap – as if it would be such a moment that they would re-write the script, keep the incident under wraps until they were in post, and then BLAM-O! Tom Cruise breakdown expose narrative film crossover extravaganza!

Seriously, this is what I spend a huge portion of Tom’s films thinking about. It’s distracting. So much so, that I often miss plot points because I’m so busy wondering when ol’ Tom will lose it. He looks pretty damn close sometimes.

I mean, look at that mug…that is not a sane lookin’ mug…

Needless to say, it’s difficult for me to get invested in the typical “all-American hero” Cruise roles (aka, most of his work) because I don’t buy him as a hero figure. As such, I didn’t expect to enjoy Vanilla Sky nearly as much as I did – a film that’s been recommended to me several times, but that I dismissed as just another Cruise flick. But thank the holy celluloid something! Someone finally put Tom’s cray cray to good use! Vanilla Sky took me on an epic tale and really showcased talent that I had sadly dismissed Tom from having.

THE PLOT:

Tom plays David, a publishing mogul and heir who seems to be experiencing some…technical difficulties. After a weird dream of an empty New York City, David wakes up to his perfect life, including fuckbuddy Cameron Diaz:

And non-threatening emasculated friend Banky (Jason Lee, who’s character name is actually Brian):

Through the upbeat late 90’s music, light laughter, and idealized magazine office humdrum we move until we are suddenly thrust into a suspiciously dark prison cell in which David stands on a table, and now has on a prosthetic latex face.

He is talking to a shrink who is notably bad at his job and has no mind for prison protocol. Oh, and Dave is being tried for murder.  We cut back to this a few times throughout the storyline just to make it even more ridiculous.

Now that the audience is thoroughly confused, we bounce back to David being Mr. Charming America, where he steals Banky’s exotic, bookish date Penelope Cruz. P.Cruz and T.Cruise bond over Cameron Diaz being a green-eyed monster when she shows up uninvited. Banky has a piddle party over being less manly than Tom Cruise. David manages to keep his boner soft even though Cameron Diaz puts on a brilliant display of some kind of manipulative, warped There’s Something About Mary routine that makes my skin crawl from the powerful creepies. Seriously, this girl is good. Mark one down for Robot Tom, because I don’t know how else he walked away from that. Instead, Sofia and David do bohemian things and bond about it so no one thinks she’s a gold digger.

Unfortunately, Cameron Diaz is more crazy pants than she wears pants, and she tries to kill both herself and David in a car “accident” by driving them both off a bridge in a display of some of the most epic psychoticness I have ever seen.

More proof that women can’t drive

David wakes up to a destroyed face and a destroyed life.

Uuuuuurg!

He goes through countless operations to get his face fixed and tries to make things work with Sofia despite the ginormous shitstorm that is his life. However, there are “inconsistencies”…you know, normal stuff like your face isn’t you face, and your girlfriend is the crazy bitch who tried to murder you in a car accident who happens to be dead. He goes a bit nutso and smothers Penelope Cruz/Cameron Diaz to death (death again?) with a pillow, and despite being told over and over that he killed Sofia…he sees only Julia.

Just a typical day with Tom

Which I suppose it why we find ourselves in a prison, now, isn’t it, David? (Fucking crazy bastard Tom Cruise…)

 Anyway, we go through a few impressive twists (Is he crazy? Is he framed?) and eventually Tom ends up at the Life Extension offices after working out some details with the hokey prison psychologist. He learns that he had been frozen (cryonic suspension) after his accident and he had actually been dreaming the whole damn time! The whole damn time being 150 years. There’s some ethical talk and stuff after that. Some nice tech support type things. You’ll probably recognize the Inception-y scene (note this came out in 2001, so this came out earlier!). Honestly though, it could be more crazy David logic because in the end he just jumps off a building. I mean, I’m just saying.

Ally-oop!

 THE GOOD:

 The opening sequence will suck you right in. The editing and sound work in this film is stunning throughout. I’ve always been a fan of movies that use lyrical pop music well, and Vanilla Sky uses it very well. The whole piece feels like it has an era, a tone to it.

Despite the temptation that might have existed (and if this was made modernly….probably would have happened), Vanilla Sky is shot and edited very simply. Things flow together not because they are edited together in some high-contrast fancy blob, but because it was thought about, and shot that way specifically (secondary movements). It really is a beautiful film of a certain caliber that I feel we don’t see much of anymore.

But the best part was the acting. I felt like Tom’s crazy eyes were perfect for this. Is he going to snap? Break? Cry? I love it! It works so well! Plus, his acting really stands out when he has the latex mask on covering his all-American face (sorry, Tommy!). It’s like watching Hugo Weaving in V for Vendetta – you don’t realize how physical an actor is until their face is covered. It was nice to actually be able to watch Tom and appreciate his skill, without being distracted by the crazy-eye factor.

 

Can you just wear this all the time, Tommy boy?

THE BAD:

 At times, Vanilla Sky feels a little long winded. However, it was made earlier than many of our “it was a dream!” movies. I believe this is second only to The Matrix. Even still, for the time, I understand the pacing. Plus, I feel that it highlights the acting more.

I do, however, wish that terrible green screen scene at the end had a recap section. Ugh. Too long, too boring, and not enough substance to the acting. Blech. Are you trying to teach me a moral, make me think of one myself, or what? Get on with it already.

“I have no idea what I’m doing!”

The ending does feel a smidge like a cop out. Although the concept is solid, the way it was presented didn’t feel genuine to the source material. Suddenly we’re on top of a super tall building in the purple clouds and blah blah blah? Tom’s dreams earlier were in an abandoned New York! And what about the weird moment in the bar where everyone stopped talking? I don’t get why “dream” suddenly became “purple cloudy mountain-y time” when the other dream-like sequences were much more true to an actual dream experience.

 

“Wait…are we still filming the same movie? Just checking.”

THE FINAL VERDICT:

 I’m glad I finally got around to watching this film. Is this the performance Tom’s been riding on for the last few years? It’s nice. It’s really nice. Now can we get him to wear that mask all the time? That’d be great. Thanks.

I give Vanilla Sky 4 purple fluffy clouds out of 5.

Herpes Boy

Occasionally an intriguingly titled flick pops up where, despite the nagging voice in the back of your head, a louder (and often drunken) voice wins out demanding that you MUST KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. May I present Herpes Boy.

Although low-budget and sometimes campy, Herpes Boy is endearing, and the commentary on viral society is hilariously spot-on.

THE PLOT:

Writer/lead Byron Lane plays Rudolf (“Rude”), an anxiety-riddled teen who deals with his social awkwardness by posting video blogs to some sort of Facebook/Youtube/OkCupid hybrid site. His main topics of interest are his ostracization brought on by his facial birthmark and his suburban family life, which consists of his meathead brother, religious mother, antisocial grandmother, and well-meaning father.

Not pictured: Dead dad

When extended family converges after Rude’s father unexpectedly dies during a routine toe operation, Rude is suddenly faced with his obnoxious wannabe actress cousin overtaking his budding video channel.

I think there was some kind of life lesson learned or something along the way….I don’t really remember. Stand up for yourself? Don’t be a dick? There’s another patchy-faced person out there just for you? Something like that. Maybe all of those things. You get what I mean.

She’s just as deadpan and awkward as you! ❤

THE GOOD:

Herpes Boy isn’t the most unique film you’ll ever see, but the awkward comedy is well executed. Rude has legit reasons to feel like an outsider that backs up his teen moodiness and is paired nicely against his white, white family.

The whitest family you know

No one is a clear villain so much as the plot is a series of clashing personalities (or should I say, personality disorders).

The tongue-in-cheek approach to pointing out the innate comedy of internet interaction was flawless and delivered with a quick wit. If you don’t get it – sorry, but this film isn’t slowing down just to explain its side jokes to you. Smart viewers will appreciate not being spoon fed despite the innocent appearance of this coming-of-age comedy.

THE BAD:

At times, the plot doesn’t feel focused.  Blame the lack of villainy. Or, maybe this was meant to be as Coen-style comedy, but then it feels like something got lost between the writer and the director (kind of impressive when your writer is your main actor).

You mean…we *didn’t* need to see the whole section with the strategically placed black co-worker/friend and her nephews?!

The dramatic family feel-goods get up’d a little too much for my liking. The cheese doesn’t sit well with the snarky approach to depicting other aspects of life, and comes off false.

THE FINAL VERDICT:

All things considered, Herpes Boy is a solid indie flick. Although a unique story, it feels a little false and at times I wondered if this story would have been better in book form. While the comedy kept me entertained enough to get through the whole piece, the cheesy drama pulled me out of the story and pushed the limits of my attention span. With a bit more budget a stronger producer (especially one that will nip those terrible tag lines in the bud!), the makers of Herpes Boy should have some solid films in the future. Final score: 3 cams out of 5.

Tim and Eric’s Billion Dollar Movie

I once told myself a beautiful myth that all terrible film makers somehow get filtered by the system. Tim and Eric’s Billion Dollar Movie is proof that this is a lie.

Somehow after millions of years of evolution, we’ve managed to reduce our entertainment down to this over-budgeted shit-crusted pile by two able-bodied but possible challenged persons. If only celluloid could be recycled.

THE PLOT:

Two idiots get a billion dollars to make a movie and instead spend it on hair plugs, fake tans, and hiring Zach Galifianakis as a spiritual guru. Then, they shockingly get in trouble for this! (Gasp. Not.) To pay back their debt, they buy a wolf-and-hobo-infested, dilapidated mall run by Will Ferrell.

Nothing really works out and pretty much every one dies. We learn via text Tim and Eric go to jail. Roll credits, watch something good to purge your mind.

THE GOOD:

Tim and Eric do well riding on the coattails of persons more skilled than they are. The survivability of this film (by which I mean, I survived and did not kill myself during it) was based solely on the diligent work of better actors.

Zach Galifianakis plays a slightly flamboyant spiritual guide who has transcended enough to appear in the stars and do other various things. The concept is stupid, but Zach’s execution of the role is fine. He’s adorably over-sensitive and the only character who seems to genuinely generally give a shit about Tim and Eric. They, in turn, ban him from their life, so the brief glimmer of interest is snuffed out early on.

Will Ferrell does his Ferrell-y thing. His post-apocalyptic mall manger days have broken him down into a creepy combination of lonely and PTSD. He overshadows Tim and Eric tremendously, in screen presence and ability, and seems occasionally bored by the script/scenes. What is this, acting like an audience member? Get with it, Willy!

John C. Reilly plays another one of his adult-playing-a-child roles (oddly, an uncredited role, since he’s in 60% of the film). I wouldn’t be surprised if JCR had a diaper fetish. I can’t remember the last time I saw him play a functional, adjusted adult and not an adult that is somehow a teen or a child. As Taquito, he’s been abandoned in the mall and lived off expired frozen food and built a home with the hobos. He’s generally whiny and repetitive, but if you get off on JCR acting like a baby as much as JCR seems to, wank away to this self-masturbatory role.

There was one scene in particular I really liked. Tim and Eric are trying to come up with a business name, and since they are “guys doing business,” they shorten that down to “Do Biz” which then becomes “Dobis”. This, as a marketing/business person, was hilarious to me. But, that was about 5 minutes of the film. Related to that is a fake Dobis orientation video that’s not bad either.

THE BAD:

Where to start? The plot, the acting, the editing?

I understand that Tim and Eric have their own unique style that plays on the cheese-factor of bad cable TV. I get that. But, there are ways to do that well, and there are ways to just fail. Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace (from some of the people involved in the making of The IT Crowd) is a great example of this. Tim and Eric, on the other hand, do the gimmick in the most obnoxious way possible. Jittering jump cuts over and over; flat line delivery (which works for shorts/skits – not really for an hour and a half) that ends up feeling stale instead of funny; concepts extended well past their humor point. Tim and Eric work better as a Youtube oddity channel than as a funded feature.

That this was funded is insane to me.

As a side note, for any film makers out there, if your film feels tedious as is…..do not have long, arduous death scenes at the end of the movie. It just makes it feel like your film won’t die the same way the character won’t. I end up cheering for blood shed just to end the monstrosity. Die, motherfucker, die! Anything to end the pain of watching this shit basket any longer!

Why won’t you die?!

THE FINAL VERDICT:

This movie made me groan at every scene change because it wouldn’t fucking end. It’s like rape for your mind. Just watching it will make you dumber, and a worse film maker.  I don’t even think that lovers of Tim and Eric (the show, the shorts) will like this movie. My advice to the tubby twosome: stick to shticks, and leave movie making to the professionals. You get 0.5 dollar signs out of 5 – and you can thank your Dobis joke and Zach for that.

Samurai Jack (Season 1)

For this review, we open the wormhole to see if childhood memories can hold up to the ravages of time by taking on one of my favorite adolescent cartoons – Samurai Jack.

Released in 2001, Samurai Jack was the first cartoon to boast being drawn without outlines, giving it a distinct look (similar to South Park’s cut-outs, but drawn in a more traditional manner). Creator Genndy Tartakovsky is additionally known for Dexter’s Laboratory (also on Cartoon Network), and created Samurai Jack in a technical hodge-podge of futuristic-cartoon-meets-classic-kung-fu as a response to his general dislike for action-based cartoons.

THE PLOT:

During the Feudal era of Japan, a young warrior prince following in his father’s footsteps, faces off against the evil shape-shifting, Kabuki-voiced Aku. In desperation, Aku sends the nameless prince through a portal in time to the far distant future.

Without the prince ‘present’ (har har!) to defeat him, Aku has had ample time to ravage the earth for thousands of years, creating a violent, dystopian Earth (because he’s evil, duh!).  The prince adopts the name ‘Jack’ (a native slang term he is called when he first arrives) by what I believe is the future’s equivalent of Lil Wayne fans.

Thus begins a long journey to find some way back in time to defeat Aku, which involves a lot of fighting robots, meeting weird alien creatures, occasionally being in space, and dealing with black magic trickery.

THE GOOD:

Holy balls action sequences, Batman! Samurai Jack is a visual feast. It’s like watching an animated storyboard of awesome. I always loved the visuals of this cartoon and they certainly have not lost their luster. I love seeing a cartoon that has viable cinematic value.

It’s like watching a Coen Brothers samurai cartoon.

Plus, they do this split screen thing really, really well for the action-y parts.

The “split screen” style is distinctly Samurai Jack, and used quite often to up the intensity.

Samurai Jack does a good job of being “adult” (bars with dancers in the background, cultural humor) and dystopic while maintaining its colorful exterior, giving it a distinct flavor of “we’re all fucked, but it’s fun!”  I like this. It makes me relate to/understand Jack’s pureness without it being all up in my face, and without cutting out the realism of Aku’s destruction.

Jack feels like an actual, fleshed-out character. He has morals he was raised on (which we see in the early episodes) and he stays consistent with these, although he becomes more skeptical over time as he experiences the darkness and treachery of the future. He’s very zen (actually, stereotypically so) –  all steady action and less talking (again, very visual). It makes him have a powerful presence in a world of loud, zooming colors and sounds.

Actual city background used in Samurai Jack

Nothing is drawn particularly “good” or “bad” – everything is kind of a mix of sharp angles and odd color schemes. Like Jack, we don’t know who to trust and Season 1 plays heavily with that theme, visually and within the plot.

Good guys or bad guys?

THE BAD:

I have a few nagging questions. Whether or not Jack can kill Aku in the present/future without going back to the past isn’t addressed fully.  Why didn’t Aku just destroy everyone when he took over Earth? If he has time travel powers, why didn’t he go back in the past and kill Jack as a baby? Is everyone speaking Japanese, then, or how is Jack communicating with everyone?

Aku travels with Jack (disguised as a woman) so he can destroy a portal before Jack uses it….by why not just kill Jack in his sleep?

At times the earlier episodes feel, for lack of a better term, episodic. Think typical episode of House – patient is sick yada yada it’s not lupus yada yada House tries something crazy at the risk of his job oh noooooes and it works to cure the patient hooooraay do it again next week roll credits. Samurai Jack works better when it sheds the standard cartoon model and runs with the over-arching story line instead.

THE FINAL VERDICT:

Re-watching Samurai Jack won’t hack to pieces the fond memories of your past. It retains its visual splendor, even if the plot is not as engaging as you might remember.

Samurais in spaaaaace!

This cartoon saga is best served with a joint or a side of hot sake – and you probably don’t need to watch the whole season to re-live your nostalgia. But, it’s worth re-viewing if you were a fan before, and it’s worth a pass through if you passed over it as a kid or are a fan of old school samurai flicks. Over all, Samurai Jack’s sharp style earns it 3 swords out of 5.

The Reef

You know what’s really scary? Nature. Nothing can destroy a human faster than that moody Mother Earth.

Truth-based Australian horror/thriller The Reef don’t need no CGI beasts to make your neck hairs jiggly. Boasting real shark co-stars and filmed in the murky ocean, The Reef’s minimalist scare tactics ring frighteningly true. It’s a fear feeding frenzy based on true events!

THE PLOT:

Our ship-savvy protagonists are setting out on a weekend of snorkeling and sun aboard Luke’s sailboat. The passenger docket includes Luke, a sailor; his best friend Matt and Matt’s girlfriend Suzie, hailing from London (note: not strong swimmers); and Kate, Matt’s sister and a former fling of Luke’s that is still harboring romantic feelings. Also on board is Warren, a local, who helps Luke maintain and sail his boat.

Our unsuspecting landlubbers cruise off. Luke takes them to a secluded snorkeling spot where we get our first minor-but-eerie scares (fish swimming away from dark, open ocean area) – but no shark yet.

After returning to the boat, there’s a problem with the gas or the electric or something. They begin to drift, then hit a rock “or a whale.” They capsize, leaving everyone stranded on the exposed underbelly of the slowly sinking sailboat.

Now would be an inappropriate time to sing “I’m On A Boat” (publicity still)

The stark reality of the situation seeps in – they aren’t under a flight path, they are underprepared, and they are drifting further into deeper waters where they will inevitably sink.

And then they see something in the distance break the surface.

They gather as much supplies as they can from the flooded innards of the boat and plan to take off for Turtle Island, about 12 miles north against the current (the closest landmass). Warren refuses to get into the water but also refuses to explain why, cryptically saying that he’s fished these waters and he’s knows what’s out there, and he’ll take his chances being found on the boat. Luke, Matt, Suzie, and Kate take the plunge towards Turtle Island, leaving him behind.

As you probably guessed, they are ruthlessly hunted by a shark for the remainder of the film.

THE GOOD:

I must admit, I love a good creature-on-human gorefest. Give me giant snakes swallowing people whole, crocs from the bayou shredding spring breakers, and spiders taking over towns, and I’m a happy girl. What I loved about The Reef was that it fed into both my fear-monger and my NatGeo sides in two ways: using real sharks, and having a realistic kill cycle.

A lot of animal horror flicks like to humanize the Killer Creature by making it seem like it’s cognisant beyond its brutish mannerisms – trapping and stalking beyond its natural habits; worse, vengeful or angry at the human snacks. But nature is scary because it’s nature. It’s fucking feral. An angry ape can be calmed down – but the animal instinct to kill is unstoppable.

The Reef followed this perfectly. It was as if our stranded swimmers had planned to be the perfect target for a hungry Great White Shark – tired and flapping around like a hurt seal, being the biggest (make that 2nd biggest) thing in the water, bleeding, panicked….like a delicious, delicious people buffet.

HOLY FUCK SHARK

The shots were cut expertly between the actors being attacked (in-camera SFX) and the shark footage (also with fake blood and some stunt man limbs in shot for realism) – really making cohesive, fluid attacks that look startling realistic. I felt like I was looking for the stitches between the “acted” shots and the “sharky” shots, but even looking for them it was pretty much perfect. That is not a word I use very often. I was very impressed.

So we have real sharks doing their sharky thing, with really well edited attacks that are really realistic to how Great Whites actually attack their prey (except for, say, eating that many peoples in that amount of time). None of that shark-with-an-open-mouth-jumping-in-the-air bullshit. This is all from the hunter and food’s perspective.

Begs the question, ‘Would you want to see it coming?’

What’s not to love? I felt the victims were all appropriate levels of scared and resourceful-less (floating in the ocean with a piece of foam board). The attacks were the right mix of anticipated, false jumps, yelling at the people for being dumb but knowing they can’t do more, methodical  – seriously Shark Week worthy.

THE BAD:

I have very few complaints about this film, although I do hate all of their posters. Whether you’re rooting for the shark or the humans, you’re going to have a good time riding out The Reef.

If I had to pick a critique, it would be that the ending of the movie felt slightly over-the-top. It was in line with the rest of the movie and technically wasn’t ridiculously unrealistic – and I liked how much it frustrated me, in some ways – but “climactic enough to make my ears buzz” is normally a warning sign for me. But, maybe that was from yelling, “SWIM! SWIM WHILE HE EATS YOUR FRIENDS!” at the screen (I have no regrets).

The camera moves throughout the film, which I think benefits the sea-sick feeling of the munchies – err, humans. It did start to make me feel a little sick a few times, but it mostly enhanced the experience. However, the camera movement is the same “documentary/on a boat” motion when we’re on land at the beginning, and it did bother me there (what is this, some kind of floating airport?)

THE FINAL VERDICT:

Clearly, The Reef has won over the murky depth of my heart. If you have a fear of open water (or want to develop one), this movie will live up to the hype of being the best shark movie since JAWS.

You can swim, but you can’t hide!

Leaves you wondering when you developed a liking for watching moderately attractive Australians get chomped – and why you didn’t watch The Reef sooner!  Final score: 4 shark bites out of 5.

Party Monster (2003)

Macaulay Culkin and Seth Green spray glittery gay all over New York to the tune of Disco Revival Techno (and lots of drugs) in this tantalizing narrative film based on true events and the fabulous lives of Michael Alig and James St. James.

Note that this is the narrative version of their story, not the documentary (or “shockumentary,” as the poster boasts) by the same name that was released in 1998 – although now that I have watched Seth Green run around in some truly awesomely outrageous outfits, I am really considering watching the real James St. James to see if he holds up to the lore.

THE PLOT:

Michael Alig (Macaulay Culkin) moves to New York and meets James St. James (Seth Green), a flamboyant trust fund baby, who is the king of the club scene and known for his elaborate, drug-saturated costume parties. Michael flatters his way under James St. James’s wings, who promises to teach him the ways of being fabulous.

Thus begins the see-sawing competitive partnership/friendship between the two top queens as Michael manipulates those around him to get what he wants and continues to push the boundaries of the club scene. Michael becomes a promotion powerhouse. Paired with James St. James’s drug connections, they create the Club Kid culture – the original kids famous for being famous, dressing like freaks, and proudly promoting their ecstasy, heroin, and coke use.

The original kids to be famous for nothing. TV, ya’ll! Seth Green is the, ahem, green one. Seated to his right is Macaulay. The chicken shows up EVERYWHERE.

The craze starts to sweep across the nation, but as it builds in power, Michael and James St. James have to face the repercussions of the explosion – rabid followers, overdoses, media coverage, federal surveillance, and growing drug addictions – while battling each other for the spot of Top Queen of the Scene.

Things begin to fall apart as Michael’s drug addiction gets out of control and the superstars they’ve created begin to act out of their control until….Aw, fuck it. Go watch the movie. What, you scared of some queens?

THE GOOD:

The performances in this are really, really good. Although the “plastic gays” can drive me crazy, Macaulay and Seth really nailed the flamboyancy. They’re over the top, but this is one of the few characters and situations where it’s 100% appropriate, and in that sense it was actually nice to see (instead of the normal annoying overly gay type gay for no reason).

Macaulay brings ‘tude and Seth serves it up, even out of make-up.

Seth Green in particular really impressed me. The subtleties of his acting (through body language, how he walks, how he carries himself and talks) are really phenomenal and I’m really glad that he was given the opportunity to do this role.

Look at his hand. Look. LOOK AT IT! It’s perfect. PERFECT! I dare you to tell me Seth Green doesn’t look like a real queen.

Although at times Macaulay seems a little flat, it reads genuine since his character is imitating James St. James, and the other portions of his acting (more relaxed versions of Michael Alig) are more believable – and in the context of the film, that actually makes a lot of sense.

The costumes in this movie are AMAZING. And not just the “costume” costumes – I mean every single fucking piece of clothing in this fucking movie is insane. You really become immersed in the culture just through the clothing. It’s like the clothes have their own character and stage presence to them – truly fantastic. I fucking love it. If you’re a movie-watcher that pays attention to scene dressing and detail work – WATCH THIS MOVIE.

Macaulay far left, Seth far right

And it’s not just the main characters that are dressed to the nines – there are entire CROWDS of club kids that take over restaurants, subway stations, bars, and party in the back of semis. These candy kids provide eye candy themselves in the explosion of color and personality that is the party scenes.

So. Many. Costumes. Costume ATTACK.

The costumes may seem over the top, but here’s a side by side of Macaulay as Michael against the real Michael Alig (picture predates Party Monster). Pretty cool, if you ask me.

Original on the left, and faux on the right.

One thing I really liked about the structure of this film is that there is a lot of serious subject matter (overdoses, arguments, MURDER to name a few) but the movie presents everything in the manner that the scene would interpret it – eerily normal. It’s presented in what I’ve taken to calling “a series of waking moments,” so things are what they are, and you move past them. I like it because it feels very true-to-life to me, but because it’s not as much the traditional rise-and-fall of some narrative films I can see how it might not appeal to all movie-goers.

Party Monster allows the cinematography to ‘deteriorate’ as Michael’s drug use increases (more handheld, lenses that warp the visual plane, foggy) so the feel of the movie changes as the internal perspective changes, but it’s done in a minimalist way (aka, it doesn’t go all Sin City or Fear and Loathing suddenly- although it does build up to one scene when James St. James is OD-ing and he’s talking to a human sized rat. Surrealism, squee!)

druuuuuuuggggggsssssss……

I think this was a really well thought-out approach to showing the club scene at the time – insane, but normal to those in it. It allows the viewer to focus on the characters instead of the circumstances.

THE BAD:

Not to be picky, but maybe they glossed over the circumstances too much. It might have been intentional but there was a moment when Michael was talking about how they killed the drug dealer, shirked off his skin, taped him in a box and used him as a table for a few days before they dumped the box in a river….um….no reaction to that, Mr. St. James? And no remorse from you, Michael? Even the guys in Train Spotting had some feelings left in them, you psychos. It made it hard to relate to the characters after a while.

The movie was also self-aware, which I like sometimes, but I felt like it pulled me out of Party Monster. James St. James is the narrative voice of the film, which is being made based on his book (which he is also writing throughout the film) but he argues with Michael about who is telling the “true” story of the film. Party Monster already has a lot going on without the self-aware narrative, making it feel unnecessary and a little too on-the-nose.

THE FINAL VERDICT:

This film is worth the watch. Although it’s not quite a gay icon film like Pricilla Queen of the Desert, I’m really surprised it doesn’t show up more often on Gayest Movies lists (in a good way). It’s unique and cinematic, it made me laugh-out-loud, it’s a visual feast, and the acting is faaaaabulous! Although I was slow to warm up to it, Party Monster shimmied it’s way to a grand 3.5 kinky boots out of 5.

Popeye (1980)

NO ONE WARNED ME THIS WAS A MUSICAL.

Is there an award for worst musical of all time? If so, Popeye should get it. If not, make one and call it The Popeye. This unfocused, unpolished borefest would be more appropriately set to a series of yawns than to music.

THE PLOT:

Popeye rows into an impoverished shanty town looking for his pops, Poopdeck Pappy, who had abandoned him when he was two years old. Instead of welcome, he finds an unusually passive-aggressive and cruel town in which everything is taxed – including asking questions about why you are being taxed. This is about the same time Olive Oyl is trying to weasel her way out of her 4^th engagement…this one being to Bluto, who is large. We know he is bad because he is large. Also, he is large. The movie says this explicitly many, many times. There’s even a whole song about it. The lyrics are, “He’s large. Large. Large. Large. Large. Large. Large.”

He also gives a lot of stern looks. Like, 90% of the time.

Anywhoozle, Popeye isn’t welcomed into town mostly because he looks kind of funny, which is ridiculous in a town of people who also look funny and have cartoon sound effects come out of them, but all he wants is to find his dear old dad.

Sounds like a plot point, right? Wrong. This problem is solved right quick when Olive, trying to escape her brutish fiancé, finds a baby on the dock with Popeye. So, then the baby seems like a plot point, right? Wrong. Popeye and Olive are falling in love.

Now we must really be getting to the plot! Nope. The baby can tell the future! Wimpy makes a bunch of money from the baby but looses it when Popeye finds out the baby (Sweet Pea) is being used. He moves out of the Oyl’s house and Olive (instead of being sorry for condoning the use of baby) is happy to see Popeye sad and needing her.

Back to love plot? Ha! Now Bluto trades a hamburger to steal the baby, simultaneous to Popeye accidentally becoming town hero when he topples the Tax Man into the water (somehow causing a crazy power overthrow that is not explained). Getting that baby back would theortically become the plot, but instead we find out Bluto has been working with Popeye’s Pappy, who is actually like an evil Popeye.

Pappy mutters just like Popeye, but mostly just says the word “ass” over and over. Charming.

Bluto and Pappy fight, Bluto ties him up and goes treasure hunting with baby. Popeye finds his Pappy, awkward reunion, they chase Bluto, there’s a regular fight and an octopus fight.

Right in the beard!

It turns out the treasure chest is full of Pappy’s old memorabilia about Popeye (who he claimed not to remember or love) that he gifts to the baby. Popeye refuses to eat spinach, but then he does. Bluto swims away. THE END.

So, what is the plot?

Fuck if I know. This unfocused hodgepodge is like every idea anyone ever had for a Popeye movie ever, all mixed up into one terrible “musical” (and I really am using that term loosely). But have no fear! They’ll have another chance to add more mockery to the lore in Popeye 2014 (Seriously).

THE GOOD:

I actually didn’t know Robin Williams was in this when I started it, and I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by his version of Popeye. His little twerks and his muttering to himself was really spot on to the original character. I did joke to myself about Popeye’s potential cocaine addiction (which might be the only way the world of this film would make sense anyway) but if you can get past Robin Williams being…well, himself, and buy into the character, it really is a great match, and I feel I can add this to my list of Movies I love Robin Williams In That I Didn’t Expect To Love Him In (#1 on that list being One Hour Photo).

Shelley Duvall’s Olive Oyl was pretty good, too. Although I found her annoying by the end of the movie (which was humorous when no one was saving her – as if everyone else was also like, “MAYBE IF YOU’D SHUT UP ONCE IN A WHILE!”) But she really does nail the cartoon Olive Oyl come to life.

I wish I could make up that they call this an “octopussy” the whole time. Anyone else for some Popeye/tentacle porn cross over?

And, both of their costumes were really great. That was probably the best part of it. Popeye and Olive’s costumes. But, it’s hard to base watching a whole movie off of that.

I mean, they don’t look like anyone else besides Popeye and Olive, right?

The physical comedy throughout Popeye is pretty well done. As a film maker I know some of that is really tough to pull off. I’m not sure I agree with using cartoon sound effects over the natural setting (sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t), but it was at least consistent.

THE BAD:

This shouldn’t be called a musical. Whoever wrote this has no idea of what a musical even resembles. 90% of every song is some sentence or word repeated over and over, and there’s no rise or fall to the tune or time – so the songs that do happen on climactic moments (if they can be called that) have no sense of climax. The whole movie feels as 2D as the original cartoon drawings.

There’s a lot of inconsistency in this film – sometimes all the people hate Popeye, sometimes they love him. Sometimes Popeye mutters funny side comments, sometimes he rambles incoherently like a failing English Second Language student. Sometimes he’s called by his name and sometimes he’s just called “The Sailor” (wouldn’t like, half the people be sailors? They live in a port town). Sometimes people are helping Popeye and sometimes they’re….trading his baby for a hamburger. It’s like no one has more than a two minute memory and no moral compass.

Everyone has this “Why am I here?” look on their face. I’m not sure if they don’t remember, or they want to forget they were even in this monstrosity of a “musical”.

“What were we doing again?”

Or, maybe everyone was just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on at that point in the script. The bland, blended medley of story lines is not easy to follow.

THE FINAL VERDICT:

I thought nothing could be worse than Apartment Whatever Number but I was so, so wrong. Nothing is worse than Popeye. Admittedly, I may be more disappointed in this movie because I was hoping for something unique and interesting to write about, and instead was handed a loosely sculpted pile of pelican shit. But who wouldn’t be? This movie gets a staggering 0.5 cans of spinach out of 5, only because I can’t think of a lower fraction to express that I somehow survived this, but I’m not sure how. And you can’t even see the whole “Popeye” label! For shame.