folks, but I'm not reviewing Sisterhood of the Traveling
Pants 2 this week. I realize it's a subject we're all fascinated
by. Hell, just yesterday I had my own pair of traveling underpants;
these tighty-whiteys rode up my ass, right into my crack and
then straight on up into my colon. I can't go into any more
detail here, because I'd lose my chance to option this baby
for Traveling Pants 3. Granted, my story of loose bowels
and tight pants doesn't have the cache of tight, riding trousers
on a cute, young lady. But I think the twist of just what I
found on my Big Lots Value Choice underwear will delight moviegoers.
I saw the second-most interesting movie of the week, Pineapple
Express, which claims to be a stoner/action/buddy movie.
I guess it is all of those, but each in a pretty damn generic
sense. That probably works great for the types of dipshits that
read High Times and who lower their standards whenever
pot is involved. I'm not in that camp, though. My standards
are too high, and I don't lower them unless there's free beer.
Express is the latest from Judd Apatow, who is making a
serious effort to reduce the quality of his product as he increases
the output. What comedy hasn't had his name attached to it in
the last year? Not that that's entirely his fault. It's partially
the herd mentality of the grassfuckers who have no idea what's
actually funny. They just do whatever worked the last time.
And right now, that's hire Apatow. The only part of this I blame
Apatow for is for making some pretty fucking shitty and unnecessary
movies. Hey, Judd, slow the fuck down. Have a little discretion
so you aren't a punchline in a couple more years and all those
pigs that are grazing from your trough haven't moved on to the
next big thing.
Express is a lazy, shitty excuse for a comedy. It's a lame-ass
100 minute cliche as an action movie. It's already worn out
as a "bro-mance". Maybe it's great as a stoner movie, but I
really fucking hate people who think that some drug defines
their coolness, or that it's some really sophisticated choice
to smoke weed. I bet really good movies are, well, really good
when you're stoned, and don't exploit people's desperate need
to be part of a subculture. So, fuck the whole "stoner" thing.
It's not a genre; it's an excuse.
likable Seth Rogen plays Dale Denton, a pot-smoking process
server with a high-school girlfriend and a kinda cool mid-80s
Cadillac. He's the same slacker, everyman, underachiever fuckup
that Apatow and company have been mining a bit too much lately.
The sort of guy who's likable at first because you can feel
superior, but who gets to be a drag after a while because he
has no plans beyond the next five minutes. Or so I've been told.
In a plot contrivance directly from a bad Steven Seagal movie,
he witnesses a cop and a drug lord (Gary Cole) kill a rival.
In a panic, he tosses the joint he was smoking, which, through
another contrivance, the drug dealer identifies as his own secret
is a pretty fucking lame chase movie. Cole hires some hitmen
who, I think, are supposed to be funny, but don't get enough
screen time for the jokes to sink in. One may be gay and sensitive.
The other may be a Mark Ruffalo impersonator. Actually, there
are a lot of characters in this movie who get almost no screen
time, have little to do with the plot, yet are meant to be some
sort of comic relief. Ed Begley, Jr. plays a gun-toting father.
A subplot about a Chinese drug gang goes nowhere and feels totally
pointless. Cole and Rosie Perez (as a cop???) may have a romantic
relationship, but only the moviemakers know for sure.
plays Rogen's dealer, a pajama-clad slacker who never leaves
his apartment and is the link between Cole and Rogen. Once Cole
is onto hem, Rogen and Franco go on the lam and have a few mild
adventures. Mostly, though, the movie focuses on slow-motion
shots of them inhaling smoke, or talking about their feelings
and emphasizing how this movie is really about male-bonding.
Good fucking God, the last time I saw this much male-bonding
is when a tanker full of Crazy Glue overturned on a PromiseKeepers
pretty damn thick in Pineapple Express. There is simply
too much talk from guys about how important their friendships
are. Show it, assholes, don't keep saying it. I guess all the
bonding shit is director David Gordon Green trying to make the
movie more profound, or at least to let us know people smoking
a lot of weed act like saps. Which is what Rogen and Franco
are. That problem is compounded when, two-thirds of the way
through the movie, Rogen swears off pot and his teenage girlfriend.
In one fell swoop, and conveniently timed as a plot point, he
grows up. It's cornball and forced. It doesn't make him more
likable, just more of a tool.
a whole lot of laughs in Pineapple Express. Well, there
was some forced laughter in the theater where I saw it, and
it mostly came from people there to show solidarity with their
drug of choice. The few amusing gags get worn down from overuse.
Folks, a good gag is not a teenage boy's dick; it can't take
problem in Pineapple Express is the fucking action sequences.
I got the sense that someone thought they were either parodying
or paying homage to bad action movies. If so, they did a terrible
fucking job of it. All they did was reshoot the worst of Cannon
Films. They even look as cheap, with stunt doubles who don't
have the shape or size of the stars, and bad staging. A car
chase scene has one gag (a foot stuck through the windshield)
and a whole lot of the same old. The finale is a massive shootout
with untold death and gore. Ha ha, hoo boy, a foot blown off,
or people on fire is almost always good for laugh. Especially
when the scene is interchangeable with anything from the Jean
Claude Van Damme oeuvre, except with fatter fighters. Rather
than paying homage, these scenes look like the work of people
who don't have any fresh ideas.
Express is sloppy and weak. Sure, it's three themes in one,
but it's like when Rice-a-Roni marketed a side dish that also
stopped radiator leaks and cured athlete's foot. Sure, it did
all that shit, but it did it badly. Two Fingers.
to tell Filthy Something?