Three Thumbs Down

Such is the enormity of my brilliance that I do not have to see a film to write a review. Dullards such as Roger Ebert gain their opinions of films the lazy way. My reviews are created with sheer brain power, and are therefore superior.


I knew straight away that Precious, the sequel to Silence of the Lambs, would be a monstrosity. The dog is at least twenty years old, and they only gave it an Oscar because they gave one to Betty White, that old bat from Titanic. They thought she was ready to croak so they tossed her a statuette out of pity. The mother from Good Times plays the mentally retarded serial killer dog's keeper. Oh, excuse me...the differently-abled African-American caregiver of the dog-with-difficult-to-meet-needs. They only made the character black so we wouldn't be able to ridicule her. This is blatant anti-white racism. I deeply resent that black people can do anything they want, but if a fat, disaffected, white male does the same thing? Heaven forfend! I'm still getting threatening letters from the NCAA for my review of Guess Who's Coming to Dinner.

I refused to see James Cameron's science-fiction blockbuster, Ishtar, because it was far too popular with the proles. Seriously, if people without Degrees like it, how good can it be? Though it's nice to see the Blue Man Group getting some work, there are things in that movie that are impossible. I heard there was some sort of craft that flies through the air. Come now. Let's keep the science in science fiction, people.

Next comes the high-school nerd comedy, The Hurt Locker. All hyperintelligent students, though there be so few of us, carry the painful memories of being stuffed into lockers and forgotten over the holidays. To actually make a make a film glorifying this barbaric cruelty makes a shameful mockery of my...our suffering. I personally picketed theaters which sought to profit from this outrageous insult, but apparently the police officers who arrived to escort me off the premises were the same muscle-bound Neanderthals who saw me as locker fodder in my youth. I have your badge numbers. You'll be sorry. Very, very sorry.

There hasn't been a decent film out of Hollywood since Ray Harryhausen made his series of Bible epics entirely out of Lego.

Genius like that doesn't need gimmicks like serial-killing dogs, Negresses, CSI special effects, or nerd-bashing. I used the Googles and found several people who share my opinion, ergo, I have been PROVED correct. If anyone goes to see these films, I will interpret this as a personal insult. You have been warned.

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This is the place to praise me! Make sure to capitalize all pronouns which refer to me, like people do for Jesus. I've earned it. I'm entitled, dammit.