Boy do we ever. Being that we're trying to scale down movie night and make it a little more compatible with the rest of our lives we opted to make this week a field trip (read: I didn't have to vacuum) and since it was the boy's month he picked the movie: "Alien v. Predator". Why is yet to be determined, but I supposed he still held some hope that it would at least be fun despite having spent the better part of a year complaining about how much it was going to suck. Luckily neither one of us had to pay for it since he had his coupon from the "Predator Special Edition" DVD he'd just bought and I snagged the coupon from our copy at work. I did not go in expecting to hate the movie, but I didn't expect it to be very good. The best I could hope for was fun, which is what a surprising number of critics had said. These critics had better get their heads out of their asses quick because they might suffocate. It was easily one of the most tired, boring, unsuspenseful "action-horror" movies I had ever sat through. The complete lack of gore also didn't help, since that was pretty much the only thing that may have made it passably enjoyable. But no, no joy, no gore, no fun. Yes, part of the reason it sucked so hard was because it had the gaul to piss all over one of the best horror movies of all time and two of the better action movies of all time. It says a lot that the scariest moment belonged to a penguin. Luckily there was no techno (a hallmark of the films of Paul W. S. Anderson) but at least that would have helped make the (BAD) attempts at camp make sense. Nothing made sense, we never got to know the characters except for Lance Hendrickson (who could read the phone book and I'd watch) everyone was so stupid you just waited for them to get hacked to bits in a really grizzly fashion, but the filmmakers buggered that too since you never saw anything. The whole thing was just too fucking stupid. The dialogue was redundant, the characters braindead, the deliberate use of actors with accents annoying (this isn't Classic Trek for fuck's sake), arrggh! The rest of our group had managed to sneak in a couple of mickeys of SoCo, but I sadly had to stay sober (against my better judgment) as a result of my ongoing stomach difficulties. This did not stop me from being a giggly annoying fuck the entire movie. Afterwards I offered to hold down the boy so that our poor friends who had paid good money to witness this piece of shit could each get a shot in but most of them declined, taking responsibility for their own bad judgment. A bitch session was held in the round on Granville street directly outside the theatre where possible solutions for the general crapiness were bandied about. Our conclusions? The following, alone or in combination may have helped:
1. One or more pro Wrestlers, new skool or old skool.
2. Ice Cube
3. A character we could give a crap about.
4. The Thing (John Carpenter's)
5. Alien penguins
6. Keith David
7. Tits, or at least a Predator/Sanaa Lathan make-out scene...
Thursday, August 19, 2004
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2 comments:
Hey Meeko,
Sorry to miss out on the "AvP" goodness, or lack thereof. My absence was either due to the following:
- 48 Hour Film Fest
- still burntout from 48 Hour Film Fest
- viewing our film, "Expended", at the ANZA screenings
- doing my best (ie. worst) Bobby Boucher impression at soccer practice
Regarding Lance Hendrickson:
He could read the phone book and I'd still shit my pants. Hell, he could read Dr. Seuss and I'd still shit my pants. He's creepy as fuck. But in a good way. Unless I'm in the same room as him, then it's me shitting myself again.
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