Double Your Pleasure Or Your Pain
The Day After Tomorrow
I have been holding off reading Retrofuzz’s review of the same movie cause I figured that mine would be very similar in tone… so all apologies in advance for any such similarities. Anywhoozit. The Day After Tomorrow Never Knows is one of the best “Slit Your Eyes Out Moovies” of this young summer. The effects were stellar like Stellan SkarsgÃ¥rd, but everything else made me want to pull the razor blade in my pocket. Roland Emmerprick, who writes your f-in scripts? Do you just whip out yer book o’ Mad Libs and fill in all the adjectives and adverbs with every Lewis & Clark nickel and dime SAT words you know? This is how the story goes:
That dude who was injected into Martin Short’s body in Innerspace is at the North Pole looking for Santa, when all of the sudden the ice starts cracking like Pop Rocks in yer mouth. Then he confers with Bilbo Baggins in Scotland and together they realize that the Earth is more fubarrred than the 294 pedophiles visiting ThatsJustNightRight.com right now. The Rookie then tries to warn Vice President Windom Earle (yes, dearest Grambs, one of the best villain evs!) about the oncoming weather problems, but he was too busy trying to get into the Black Lodge. So nobody does anything and then the Ice Age happens in like 4 seconds. LA is destroyed by a slew of tornados, churros, and piñatas. Den it starts snowing like crazy in New Delhi and at the 2nd Ave Deli. And guess who happens to be stuck in The City during this giant storm? Quaid/Kuato‘s son, Donnie Darko. He’s at some math-decathlon/dork-a-thon with an Urkel look-a-like and his love interest, the most lame-ass overrated, up and coming movie star, Sean Penn’s murderderedered daughter in the sequel to Mystic Pizza: Mystic River. During the whole flick the Elijah Wood-wide-eyed heroine just sits there with a shit-eating grin and tries to save some Haitians from the impending doom. The dud squad ends up finding refuge at the NY Pubic Library. There they meet a bum who knows a thing or two about survival in the cold. He tells them that if they pee all over themselves and fall asleep in a subway car, no one would bother you, let alone ride in the same car with you. Meanwhile, back in DC, Donnie Darko‘s mom is trying to help a child cancer victim to safety. I’m gonna hit the snooze alarm for about 20 minutes, wake me up when there’s more destruction, OK? Blah, blah, blah, The Rookie walks from Philly to NY just to save his son. Sorry, but if my son was trapped like that, I’d let his a$$ become a human popsicle ala Ted Williams & Son. Somehow he makes it and… if you really care, you’ll see the movie. All I’ll say is that Perry King from Riptide is a more believable President than GW.
In conclusion, Better Luck The Day After Tomorrow is just another brick in the wall. You don’t even have to see it to know that. Now I kinda want to see Raising Helen just so I can rip it a new set of labium. Anywho, onto the next!
Saved!
On paper, this movie should have be more amazinger than when John Stossel got bitch slapped by that wrestler. But movies aren’t made on paper, they is made on celluloid! Half of it works and half of it doesn’t, but I’d say it’s worth a peep.
Here are the reasons why it’s worth a peep:
– Mandy Moore could be the most tastiestiest M & M ever.
– Macaulay Culkin is alive! And acting! And in a wheelchair!
– Susan Sarandon’s daughter, Eva Amurri, may look like an owl, but the girl can act and she inherited her mom’s sparkling set of personalities.
– Travis’ “Flowers In The Attic” made the soundtrack. No relation to the Saved By The Bell Soundtrack. Speaking of, anyone want to buy that for me?
– Patrick Fugit isn’t a one trick pony. He’ll never be almost famous, but then again, this performance will help us forget his role in the headache known as Spun.
– Did I mention that I want to eat off of Mandy Moore’s chest?
– After The Passion, we all needed a light-hearted laff at the expense of de Jesus.
Here are the reasons to hold out and just Netflix it:
– The humor sorta turns to Warren Sapp-e-ness for the entire third act.
– Mandy Moore didn’t get naked and ride a watermelon.
– The so-called “resolution”.
– Jena Malone being in every movie with her five.6-head. If they were going to get someone with a huge plot of skin above their eyebrows and below the hair line, at least get someone semi-attractive to look at for 90 minutes like (can’t bee leave I’m typing this) Amanda Bynes or even that alien/cone-head, Mena “Surfin” Suvari.
– Jena Malone’s acne. Girl can’t afford Accutane?
– Jena Malone. This girl works more than Samuel L Jackson!