Archive for the W Category


Posted in W with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 8, 2009 by Schuyler


Schuyler says:

[Editor’s note: This is a movie review site. Not a graphic novel review site. No I didn’t read Watchmen. No I dont have $24.95. You guys don’t pay me shit and I haven’t noticed any WordPress advertisements on this site. Shut up.]

Wow. That was hella intense! That was the most times I’ve seen a blue penis since the genie was left alone with Raja in the Aladdin cutscenes. Dr dr-manhattan-3Manhattan, despite too much male bludity, could be one of the most badass superheroes ever. However, much like my annual birthday, something so massive is bound to disappoint. How could a superhero only surpassed by God himself be so………uncreative. Even Superman figured out he could fly around the world backwards, reverse time, and save Lois Lane. This guy has infinitely more power than Superman, and yet is too busy struggling with a “case of the Mondays” to save 15,000,000 people from dying. It’s actually a little known fact that before Dr Manhattan disappates forever at the end of the movie, he sings a few sweet lyrics at a barely audible level. Here they are in a COTT news break exclusive:

Yo listen up here’s a story
About a little guy that lives in a blue world
And all day and all night and everything he sees
Is just blue like him inside and outside
Blue his house with a blue little window
And a blue corvette
And everything is blue for him and hisself
And everybody around
Cos he ain’t got nobody to listen to
I’m blue da ba dee da ba die…

Okay, I’m nearly done with my Manhattan Project. I think a man so omnipotent and omniscient should have a bit more foresight. How many times did he, with his universal knowledge go “Oh. I was wrong. I’ve changed my mind”? Too many. Manhattan is the best and worst Watchmen character for the reasons I’ve listed. You all probably don’t agree, but to this I respond: Bite me. You’ve got a little bit of blueish liquid dripping from the corner of your lip.

I can’t spell Roarshack. I’m going to look it up now. “Rorschach”. Okay. watchmenThis dude is my favorite Watchperson. Take Christian Bale’s raspy Batman voice, add with it some integrity and more than 10 fold Batman’s badassedry. Can someone explain why his face mask is constantly moving around, like a Rorschach test? His face looks fine without it. He looks like Steve Nash from the Phoenix Suns. Does he know that he’s named after the very inkblot test that his facemask resembles??? Regardless, this guy was a madass badass. This guy was so MAD at the way the movie ended that he commanded Manwichhattan to vaporize him. How many times have I screamed with rage I want you to get up right now, sit up, go to your windows, open them and stick your head out and yell – ‘I’m as mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!'”? More than just the one time I was in that movie “The Network”. At least twice. Rorschach was a great personality and very enjoyable to watch. His defiant prison-scapades are probably my favorite part of the movie. I aim to grow up bitter, enraged, slightly psychotic…..but JUST like Papa Rorschach.

Dan was sort of a pussy.

The women in this movie were “eh”. The main girl looked like Stephnie Weir of Mad TV fame. I expected Michael McDonald to burst through a wall in a diaper and yell “I’m in my DARK place!” To the graphic novel’s defense—the chicks were better drawn than they were cast.

Adrian Veidt is a teabag, and I don’t like how he (as our unlikely villain) is NOT made to RUE the FUCKING day. He wins! Why? Yeah, I know. This is the anti-super-hero-movie. In the end, the badguy wins because he makes sense…and the flock is more important than the one lost sheep. Simplicity is chosen over idealism. That sort of cynical attitude is spreading like a cancer on this Earth. If anything, I got that the way things end in Watchmen is a demonstration of how things ought not be. A critical commentary. “Strike Peter….Strike True.” Captain Hook gets it. Why doesn’t the rest of this stupid world get it? I GET IT. I UNDERSTAND THIS SHIT.

Terrorists: Fuck you
21 year old rich white girls: Fuck you
Madonna: Fuck you
A-Rod: Please come back from your surgery and hit 40 HRs, but Fuck you
Jacque Chirac: Le Fuck De you
Katelynn from Real World Brooklyn: Fuck you

Now that I’ve proven I’m the only sane man left on the planet with my quick judgment and searing criticism, everybody listen to me! PLEASE????

Grade: 89

James says:

I’ll be perfectly upfront from the beginning; I adored the original comic.  Those of you who actually know me or read this site are probably unsurprised by this, but I’ll say it anyway. In addition to having the collected edition, I sought out (and purchased) all twelve original first run comics from the 80’s.  The writing is enough to keep me awake at night, seething with envious rage, the story is perfect, and the tiny details to be found everywhere add up to create something more than a mere comic.  “Watchmen” is something special.  The movie was clearly made with fans like me in mind.

Ever since shortly after its publication, “Watchmen” has been called “unfilmable,” largely for the very reasons that I loved it.  It’s extremely complex, full of interwoven stories about the main characters, flashbacks, excerpts from fake books, and even a whole interior comic called “The Black Freighter,” perhaps my favorite part of the original story.  With all this stuff going buck wild at the same time, its no wonder most directorsWho watches the watchmen? Me. took one look and said it could never be done without infuriating the hardcore fans.  Fast forward to March 6, 2009.  I piled into Cine Ideal, one of Madrid’s only theaters that doesn’t butcher American movies with dubbing, along with a few friends, and we climbed into our seats, prepared to be wowed.  A little over two hours later, we walked out of there and immediately began discussing it.  With one exception, none of us had been let down, and that one exception had never even read the comic.  The movie maintained the comic’s ever-increasing sense of urgency as the plot hurtles toward some unknown, looming catastrophe, while the viewer constantly waits for the heroes to discover, expose, and then thwart the villain’s evil plan.  The action is intense, the violence is graphic, and the wangs are blue.  The movie held very faithfully to the source material, with only a few omissions or changes, the largest one being the ending.  To avoid spoilers, I will only say this: I prefer the ending in the comic, but it would not have worked for the movie, so I’m glad they went the way they did.  Now, to address some of Schuyler’s complaints.

Dr. Manhattan remains nude throughout almost all of the comic, so it only makes sense that he’s buck-ass naked in the movie, as unpleasant as it may be.  Also, despite his near omniscience, he is in fact outsmarted by the “villain,” thanks to the bad guy’s use of some high technology that blocks Dr. Manhattan’s ability to see into the future.  And even once his plot is discovered, the bad guy manages to convince Big Blue that, although his plan will leave millions dead, it will save millions more and create a better future for the world.  With a God on Earth now backing him, it appears as though the villain has succeeded in his plot and actually changed the world, sacrificing millions to prevent a global nuclear Holy crap he's so cool.holocaust.  What Schuyler failed to notice, however, was the little epilogue.  Throughout the movie, Rorshach, the coolest man ever (next to Batman) is chronicling his and Nite Owl’s quest to figure out what the hell is going on in his journal.  Even though his final fate is an unpleasant one, and it appears as though he’s been defeated, in the last few seconds of the movie it’s revealed that a newspaper is going to publish his journal.  Once this happens, the entire plan would be revealed, leading to the end of the peace and complete global annihilation.  Although Rorshach may have been killed, his insane perseverence still wins out in the end, succeeding where his mortal form failed.  And to address his mask; in the comic it’s explained as two sheets of thin plastic with a black liquid in between them.  I’m not sure why they changed it to be simply fabric for the movie, but it certainly looked awesome.

While there is plenty more I could talk about, Schuyler sort of beat me to the punch.  On most of the other points, we’re in fairly solid agreement, disjointed though his review may be.  Overall, I felt it was an excellent movie and an extremely faithful adaptation of one of the most imporant comics ever written.  The cast was excellent, even if some characters recieved less attention than they should have, and the man playing Ozymandias was sort of a ponce.  But Nite Owl, the Silk Spectre, and especially Rorshach were immaculate.  They played their parts perfectly, leaving the viewer with an incredibly entertaining glimpse into their larger-than-life world.

Grade: 93

Total Grade: (89+93)/2= 91


The Wrestler

Posted in W with tags , , , on February 4, 2009 by jennyjuniper21

Jenny says:

I never thought I would say it, but Darren Aronofsky has officially made a film more depressing than Requiem for a Dream. Yeah, you read that right: The Wrestler is more heart wrenching and painful than Requiem for a Dream. I’ll explain how I came to this conclusion later; first let me lay out a few of the things that make The Wrestler one of the best films of 2008.

First of all, the acting and the characters. Much has been made about how art imitates life in this film. Mickey Rourke, a once-popular actor who fell out of favor with audiences and kind of cocked up his whole life, returns to the big screen to portray Randy “The Ram” Robinson, a once-popular professional wrestler who, 20 years later, is a loser who cocked up his life. It’s beautiful. And all the hype you heard is true. Mickey Rourke will make you weep like a baby with his performance. He plays a man who was once at the top of his game in a most masculine profession who now lives in a trailer park, works part-time in a grocery store, and keeps dreaming of the one final match that will put him back on top of the world. Randy has a hearing aid, heart problems, and a daughter who hates him. He’s terribly, terribly alone. Yet he manages somehow to maintain some dignity and optimism.


Meanwhile, Marissa Tomei plays Cassidy, an aging (i.e. over 30) stripper who maintains a strictly platonic relationship with Randy despite the fact that the two would make a great (if slightly skanky) couple. There’s a great scene which epitomizes Cassidy and Randy’s relationship: she’s giving him a private dance, gyrating nearly naked on his lap, while he talks casually about an upcoming rematch with another wrestler, “The Ayatollah”, that Randy is convinced will put him back in spotlight. The audience laughs because Randy barely pays attention to Cassidy’s perky breasts, but it shows that he doesn’t see her as a stripper, and she doesn’t see him as customer.

Which brings me to the second thing that was awesome about The Wrestler: the juxtaposition of Randy’s line of work and Cassidy’s line of work. Aronofsky spends plenty of time lingering on the scantily clad human body, both during scenes of Cassidy stripping and scenes of Randy wrestling. He dares us, forces us, to objectify them, and it’s impossible not to. Cassidy and Randy are essentially willing captives in a human zoo who invite us to watch them and who use their bodies to pay the bills. And they’re both getting too damn old to do it well. A particularly violent (we’re talking staple guns here) match lands Randy in the hospital, where his doctor warns him that any “strenuous” activity will kill him. On the flip side, a sleazy dude hassles Cassidy in the strip joint, asking, “How old are you?” As in Requiem, Aronofsky punishes his main female character with sexual humiliation and his main male character with physical pain and illness, adding a gendered component to Cassidy and Randy’s professions.

Commie Rotten and The Ram

Commie Rotten and The Ram

A final thing I really liked about this film was the “behind the scenes” scenes at the low-rent matches Randy wrestles in. You get to see men who are enemies in the ring buddying up to one another in the back rooms. Randy tells a younger wrestler, “Commie Rotten” (btw, LOVED that name), that he has talent and if he just keeps up with it, he can go places. Minutes later, Randy creams the dude in the ring in front of a cheering audience. Of course, it’s all fake. We ALL know that professional wrestling is fake. But to hear the wrestlers planning out their moves in the back, describing in detail every move of the fight, you realize that wrestling is an art, dammit! It’s on par with theatre or, hell, the ballet. These dudes know what they’re doing. They’ve trained, practiced, and plotted with the very men whom they will take down in the ring. The point is to put on a good show.

Ok, so The Wrestler was fucking amazing. But why did it rip out and shred my heart to tiny pieces in a way Requiem for a Dream did not? Well, first of all you pretty much know what’s going to happen in Requiem. You know the characters are going to meet horrible fates. I mean, come on, it’s a movie about heroin addicts. And not fun, sexy heroin addicts a la Trainspotting, but grimy, disgusting New York City dwelling burnout heroin addicts. You know that the movie isn’t going to end with the gang deciding to go to rehab together and talking about their feelings in group therapy. On the other hand, you don’t quite know what’s going to happen in The Wrestler. Let me just say this: the previews are a tad misleading. Plus, you actually like Randy. I found the characters of Requiem to be thoroughly unlikable. Yeah, I felt bad for them when they hit rock bottom, but I was never exactly “rooting” for them. Not true with Randy—you WANT him to achieve; you WANT him to connect with Cassidy and his estranged daughter; you hope he ends up back on top of the world. Randy’s a likable, three-dimensional, dynamic character who learns lessons and shit.

And that brings me to another point: The Wrestler actually has a glimmer of hope. Whereas the characters of Requiem are on a downward spiral to hell from the first moment they appear on screen, Randy actually has a pretty good shot at turning his life around.

—>Spoilers Ahoy!<—

To explain this “torture of hope” as it were, I’ll briefly describe the plotline that got to me the most. Partway through the film, Randy visits his estranged daughter Stephanie. At first Stephanie brushes him off, letting the audience know that Randy was kind of a shitty, deadbeat father. But eventually she warms up to him and the two spend the day together. Things look pretty good for Randy and Stephanie…until Randy forgets that he’s supposed to take Stephanie out to dinner one Saturday night and instead does coke with some slutty chick and ends up banging her doggy style (the slutty chick, not Stephanie). The next morning, Randy realizes what he’s done and rushes to Stephanie’s house to beg forgiveness. The scene that follows, in which Stephanie tells her dad that she wants him out of her life forever, will fucking kill your heart. It is awful…and made worse because Randy had the chance to redeem himself and he blew it. These glimpses of hope make the film all the more haunting in the end.


The Wrestler is an intense, violent film that will stick with you after you leave the theater. It has so many layers and such a complicated message and complicated characters, that you’ll pretty much be forced to think about it days after you’ve seen it. It’s not an easy film, it’s not a pretty film, but it’s a film that reminds you why movies are made and why we go see them.

Grade: 91

The Wackness

Posted in W with tags , , , on January 11, 2009 by jennyjuniper21

Jenny says:

Full disclosure: I have never smoked pot. Not once. Not even in college. I also don’t listen to rap. And in 1994, I was an 8-year old, watching David the Gnome and eating peanut butter sandwiches with my baby-sitter. The Wackness, about a teenage pot dealer living in New York City in 1994, might as well be about the goddamned emperor of 17th century China to me—it’s a period piece, a fantasy, rather than a film that inspires any nostalgia in me. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it.


The Wackness is filmed with soft lighting that captures the fuzziness of Luke Shapiro, a quiet, sweet 18-year old drug dealer with half-lidded eyes and the weight of post-high school apathy on his shoulders. It’s appropriate that Josh Peck, formally the fat sidekick of Nickelodeon’s Drake and Josh, plays Luke. Peck is all grown up here—he’s lost a bunch of weight and is really, really cute, but he still has the vulnerability of an “inner fatty”. An “inner fatty” is someone, fat or thin, who is just a tad self-conscious, self-deprecating, and unsure of him or herself. Someone who values being funny, smart, or generous over being popular and cool—because an inner fatty doesn’t truly believe that he or she is capable of being cool. Unlike those “inner skinnies”, who are narcissistic, wildly outgoing, vain, and selfish (or at least I, an inner fatty, like to think so. Fuck those skinnies! Let’s hope they all develop a thyroid problem!). But I digress…The point is, Luke is a good guy, and refreshingly innocent for a drug dealer.

The Wackness has two simultaneous and interweaving plotlines. One is about Luke and his shrink, Dr. Squires, who trades therapy sessions for pot. Dr. Squires is having a mid-life crisis and marriage problems. He’s also trying to mentor Luke, even though he himself is in serious need of counseling. He tells Luke “Embrace your pain. Make it part of you” and then proceeds to attempt to kill himself. He doesn’t succeed, but it shows that the middle-aged doctor doesn’t know shit about dealing with pain. Dr. Squires is played by Ben Kingsley, who sports a bizarre accent—it’s sort of a mixture of British, generic American, and ‘New Yawk’ and it sounds very weird. But other than that accent, Kingsley does an excellent job of portraying an aging, dope-smoking, Mary-Kate Olsen kissing (really!) ex-hippie turned professional. Dr. Squires’ “what the fuck” attitude lets him learn as much from Luke as Luke learns from him.

The other plotline is your typical coming of age story in which Luke falls in love with Dr. Squires’ stepdaughter, Stephanie (played by Olivia Thirlby, aka Juno’s best friend in Juno). Luke really likes Stephanie and Stephanie just wants to be friends. But she also invites him to her step dad’s home in Fire Island and helps him lose his virginity, which makes for a couple really awkward scenes and one really gorgeous scene where the two kids make love in the shower—after which Luke remarks “word”. Word, indeed. If porn were made with people who looked and acted like Josh Peck and Olivia Thirlby, I’d watch a lot more of it.


Sadly for Luke, even after popping his cherry, Stephanie still only wants to be friends, if that. While Luke is practicing telling Stephanie he loves her (he says to himself “I got mad love for you, shorty. That’s on the real.”) Stephanie is maintaining a cool distance and ignoring his calls. But Stephanie isn’t portrayed as a callous, manipulative bitch—she’s just a girl who likes Luke, even enough to have sex with him, but doesn’t like him like him. We’ve all been there. On both ends. And even though Luke pursues her beyond what is reasonable, it comes off as heroic and honest, not pathetic and loser-y. At one point, he calls her from a payphone and waffles about not really meaning it when he told her he loved her. He then pauses and says “You know what? I meant it. I do love you. I’m not afraid to say it” and then proceeds to tell her that if she doesn’t love him back she can “fuck off”. I freaking loved this scene because I felt like it’s something probably everyone’s wanted to say at some point in their lives, but never got up the courage to do so. Luke is at an age, and possessed of a personality which allows him to just fucking say what he means, even if it’s embarrassing and even if it just pushes Stephanie away more. Because by admitting that he loves her “on the real”, Luke owns his feelings for her, rather than letting her have control over him. Like Dr. Squires’ encouraged, Luke is making his pain part of who he is.

The Wackness is not a very eventful film. It’s more character driven than plot driven. It’s not even particularly entertaining. But it’s sweet and sincere and feel-good. And even though I don’t smoke pot and don’t listen to rap music or hip-hop, I could easily feel what Luke was feeling and see a little of myself (or my “inner fatty”) in him. And that’s why The Wackness was more dope than wack for me.

Grade: 83

Wild Zero

Posted in W with tags , , , , , on October 12, 2008 by jharoldson13

James says:

Ok, this might seriously be the best fucking movie ever made.  It’s about a real-life Japanese (!!!) rock band called Guitar Wolf, and if that alone was the plot, it would still rule.  But to make things better, it’s about Guitar Wolf fighting zombies and screaming “Rock ‘n roll!” every few minutes.  Holy shit, this made suffering through “Terror Firmer” totally worth it.  The lead singer drives around on a motorcycle that shoot flames out the mufflers, shoots people they don’t like so their heads explode, and forms blood pacts with unconscious men that form a momentary diversion in the middle of a standoff.  Plus, did I mention that his mic shoots flames any time he sings into it?  No?  Well fuck me, because it does, and it’s totally badass.

So the basic idea is that Ace is a young, wannabe musician who runs into the guys from Guitar Wolf in the middle of a near-shootout.  His entrance is enough distraction for Guitar Wolf to kill the club owner’s assistant and escape, but not before making the unconscious Ace their rock n’ roll blood brother.  They also give him a magic whistle that will summon them no matter where they are, and if you guessed that that might figure prominently into the plot, then you win!  Meanwhile, some meteorite crashes into Japan, causing all kinds of whacky zombies to rise up and eat the flesh of the living.  Ace then travels around aimlessly until he meets Tobio, an adorable little girl whose life he saves from the rampaging hoardes of grey-faced zombies.  When she gets naked (presumably out of gratitude, but its never really addressed) Ace notices with horror that she’s packing heat.  That’s right, she’s actually a dude.  Ace screams in terror and runs off, leaving Tobio to wander away sadly.  He then sees the lead singer of Guitar Wolf appear in front of him and teach him valuable life lessons about life and love, all delivered in an excellent screech.

Soon after, Ace gets swamped by the zombies, and in his desperation he uses the whistle, which Guitar Wolf immediately hears.  The lead singer jumps onto his flame-shooting motorcycle while the other two guys take their car and immediately the film splits apart.  It divides its time between Ace’s quest to find Tobio and reclaim his love, Guitar Wolf’s quest to “find their rock ‘n roll blood brother, Ace,” and the club owner from the beginning’s quest to kill everyone because he’s a fucking lunatic with a bowl cut and short shorts.  It’s really difficult to explain the plot from there, because to be honest I had a hard time following it.  That could’ve been the movie’s fault though; the plot didn’t really seem to matter once the lead singer of Guitar Wolf started throwing magical electric guitar picks that made zombies’ heads explode.  Or at the end, when he reveals that his sweet guitar is actually a sweet guitar katana, and uses it to single-handedly take down the alien mothership.  Oh yeah, there were aliens.  I’m not sure why, though.  And once the mothership explodes, all the zombies die.  And the manager turns into a hairless superzombie that shoots lasers out of its eyes, which is when I decided that this might be the coolest movie I’d ever seen.

Most of the time, movies don’t teach me a damn thing.  Lots of them try to, but it comes across as preachy and forced, and those are two qualities that I can’t abide in a story with a message.  I almost always end up tuning it out in favor of something more interesting, like a nice shiny keychain that I can shake and make pretty noises.  “Wild Zero,” however, taught me two things: courage and rock ‘n roll.  If you have these things, no force on Earth can stop you.  And if you ever face limitless amounts of the undead, all you need is ROCK ‘N ROLL to defeat them.  And a four story fall is nothing if you’ve got the music in your heart.  Rock on!

Grade: 89

Weird Science

Posted in W with tags , , on October 8, 2008 by Schuyler

Schuyler says:


Grade: 100

Naw, just kidding. I know I couldn’t fool you guys. I’ll write an actual review….
Weird Science features Anthony Michael Hall and Kelly LeBrock, who is the hottest thing since sliced sex. AMH and his dorky friend…Wyatt….Dorkelly…yes…Wyatt Dorkelly, conspire to take a 1985 Computer (which would’ve burned out playing Oregon Trail) and connecting it to a Barbie Doll via some electrodes. As one would expect, this causes a massive explosion which pretty much destroys Dorkelly’s house. The mushroom cloud clears, and we are introduced to the Barbie Doll, who is now 5’10”, British, and is basically going Super Sayian 3 (but not with fighting power, with sex). She also has the power to make anything she wants a reality.

[BTW–The bra-head on the left in this picture is ROBERT DOWNEY JR. before he was famous/Iron-Man-ish]

Instead of continuing to talk about the movie, because I know you’ve either seen it and married it, or will do so shortly after you finish reading, I’ll launch into the logistics of this movie. My biggest beef is with Kelly’s (Lisa is her character’s name) God powers. I don’t get how her metamorphosis takes her from plastic girly toy to uber-God. If she snaps her fingers, a Ferrari appears. If she winks, she can control minds. If she sneezes, it starts snowing in Hawaii and burning in Greenland. If she deems it beneficial to have mutant bikers crash through the wall and take girls hostage, that’s what’s going to funkin happen. It’s not the fact that she’s got God-like powers that I have issues with. It’s that she goes from Doll to Deity. She skips being human, and that’s offensive to me.

What, so we’re not good enough for you Lisa? Being human isn’t worth your time?

Well…I still worship the ground you walk on.  Yes, I will go make you some tea.

Grade: 88

Who the #$&% is Jackson Pollock?

Posted in W with tags , , , , , , on March 11, 2008 by Schuyler

Schuyler says:

Teri Horton is a 70+ year-old cussing, drinking, smoking, truck driving grandma.

That is more than enough story for John Travolta’s next starring role.horton.jpg
Only it’s true. Who the #$&% is Jackson Pollock? is a documentary about how Horton finds what appears to be an authentic Jackson Pollock painting in a run-down pawn shop for $5. That’s right, FIVE DOLLARS. A friend who is more art-savvy than herself alerts her to the possibility that it might be a real Pollock painting. Her response: the film title.

Horton begins her late-life quest to have the painting authenticated, only to be met by elitist resistance from the mafia that is the art-connoisseur’s world. This film reveals the cartoonish and idiotic snobbery that could only exist in the art world. The professionals who act as vocal leaders in the art world confess on camera why they “do not believe” Horton’s painting is a Pollock. It becomes more and more obvious that they truly do not want the painting to be authentic.

Even after one of the world’s leading finger print analysts finds specific finger-print evidence on the painting that occurs both in Pollock’s studio and on other Pollock paintings, these critics refuse to acknowledge the piece. Continual breakthroughs are made that identify the piece as a legitimate Pollock, using forensic science as the key identifier. The experts refuse to budge, denying poor class-less Horton a chance to join the upper echelons of the aristocratic art-world. If they would “give it the thumbs up” it would bring the piece’s value to upwards of $50,000,000.

It IS a Pollock, but it is only worth such a ridiculous sum with the aristocratic seal of approval. They would NEVER ever allow such ahorton2.jpg low-brow individual into their circle, and their actions/comments are so filled with spite that it seeps into the film.

As far as documentaries go, this has been my favorite of all time. I’m sure I’ll see others that engage me in a similar fashion someday, but thus far, this one has been ultimate. I cannot critique acting, since the characters are real. All I can do is commend the director and cameramen for stringing together an exceptional story.

If you notice, I haven’t made my typical array of jokes in this review. Except when a documentary allows brief moments of humor, there is hardly anything to laugh about in most documentaries…just sharp, cutting, critical points.

Deal with it fuckers.

Grade: 91

The Wrong Turn

Posted in W with tags , , , , , , , on February 7, 2008 by Schuyler

Schuyler says:

In honor of the stupid bitch that mass-emailed all of Boston College, I’m going to review the one movie that shows a girl being decapitated from the mouth up. This character gets hit with an ax by an inbred monster right across the face, leaving her upper-head on top of the ax as the entirety of her body slides to the ground. THAT is what I want to happen to Lil’ Ms. Mass Emailer.

I could tolerate a school-wide mass e-mail if it was an emergency…but this girl was asking if anyone had an “extra room to sublet for my boyfriend, who’s a stockbroker in NYC, and he wants his own place for one week, every month…k?”

I wish a death upon her that is as horrible as The Wrong Turn is a piece of cinema.

Guy driving on county road. Slams into car full of young hooligans. Hooligans’ car has barbed-wrapped around front tires. “Hey lets go find safety/a phone/something stupid” “Okay, but let’s leave two of our members behind, and split up.” Groups split. Two ppl left behind start to have sex, then one goes to urinate, and both are killed separately by something off-camera. Others come back, finding dead pieces of friends, chased by something giggling maniacally. Run. Stumble into broken down shack, dismantled cars outside. Search through house, evil inbreds drive pickup truck home. Friends scramble to find hiding spots in house. Discover lots of severed organs, appendages, etc. From hiding spot they witness their two dead friends getting carved up. Inbreds take a nappy. Friends try to escape quietly, fail. Inbreds chase. Another friend gets arrowed up by Mongolian inbred archer. Climb into radio beacon tower. Radio for help. Radio tower set on fire by inbreds. Escape through trees. GIRL GETS AXED IN THE FACE. Only hot girl and original car-guy left alive. Girl captured. Cop comes to investigate radio distress call, gets arrowed in face. Car guy stows himself in cop car that inbred baddy drives away in. Girl is tied up to bed, about to get diced. Car-guy kills inbreds several times, saves girl. Blows up shack. Cops come to investigate, somehow inbreds alive again…but it doesn’t matter because car-guy and hot girl are in love (being the only decent looking people left).

OK! ::Knuckles crack::

This movie is plotless and relies on gore, sudden loud noises, and sudden camera movements to get ANY reaction from its audience at all.

Eliza Dushku (Hot girl) is the ONLY positive of this film. She’s a tasty treat.
Dezmond Harrington (Car-guy) is a poor man’s Paul Walker. That is DIRT poor. He fails to act like an above-average male protagonist, which is his whole job.

Other characters: Byproducts of procreation between a pile of dog shit and a blood-covered dish cloth. Shitty and useless.

Like all spectacularly awful movies, there ARE methods one may utilize to make the Wrong Turn an enjoyable film. Usually drinking games, spotting absurdities, or just straight up lying to yourself are ways to help sugar coat the swallowing of a movie turd.
Try this:

Do you know who Don LaFontaine is? He is the movie preview voice guy with the ridiculously deep/intense voice. Over the years he has provided the voiceovers for dozens of films just like The Wrong Turn. Do your own Don LaFontaine impression while watching the film, creating your own absurd mental movie preview. My friends and I did this for 84 solid minutes while watching this movie. It irritated the hell out of the one other person in the theater, but fuck him. It goes something like this:

Don LaFontaine: In a world where one must fight to survive…
DLF: …Evil lurks at every corner…
DLF: …He was driving his car…
DLF: …She was standing outside with her friends…
(Goes on for 20 minutes until…)
DLF: …They wanted him dead…
DLF: …This summer, Evil lives in Appalachia…
DLF: …Be afraid…of taking….
DLF: …The Wrong Turn…
DLF: Coming soon to a theater near you…

(Movie ends, you’ve just wasted 84 minutes)

That’s the only way you can ingest this film. You have to not take it seriously.

Grade: 19 (as a horror) / 61 (as a comedy)