Yesterday I wrote about my favourite movies for 2010, which you can read here. Now we have some fun as I tell you the five movies that made me think maybe, just maybe, some movies should be banned. Wearing censorship as a hat of comfort sat just a bit too well so instead I will rag on these next five like there is no tomorrow. And if you liked one of these movies, then good on you, you’re allowed to like whatever you like. But if you see me at a party and try to engage me in a conversation about one of these movies, then I retain the right to slap you to death with a wet fish. Fairsies? Yes, I thought so too. Sneaking in at number five:
Oh Tron, you have just snuck in pushing the Prince of Persia all the way to number six, your stinky odour nearly suffocating you all the way to number one. This movie took all the great bits of a Christopher Nolan movie, slathered them in hair gel and fingered them to death with the fetid touch of nostalgia best left burned and buried. This movie made Jeff Bridges less Dude and more stoned uncle who sometimes tries to connect with hip jingo and lonely bon mots. Nothing in this movie made sense and I would happily have accepted any explanation for anything as long as it contained sentences that didn’t send me straight to snoozeville halfway through. This movie can stick it up it’s own Obi WanTronobi and go suck an ass.
Releasing the Kraken at number four:
Here’s a sentence I never thought I’d write: Bring back Harry Hamlin! That ex LA Lawyer and 80’s heartthrob would have brought some much needed camp brevity to this dour CGI 2010 wankfest. When Sam Worthington was told he was going to play a character that is born of a god and raised as a man he must have thought he was signing on for a Bono biopic. Instead he gets to bring Bogan back to pleated skirts and Roman sandals, as Worthington is Worthingless sleepwalking through a bunch of encounters with Greek myth. At least this movie gave us the immortal line, “Release the Kraken”; once innocent is now the most childish of lines muttered by 75% of orgasming men into their lovers too close ear. At one point I swore Sam had said when encountering the Medusa, “Geez, rough head. Tell you what though, cut it off, I’d still fuck her”. Then I realised I had dozed off to a dream cinema much better than the one I was bodily trapped in. Boo!
Not turning up at number three:
This movie put the cock into mockumentary…cockumentary! It reminded us that Gonzo film-making shouldn’t be so bad that Gonzo from the Muppets would disavow and slaughter a bunch of his hot chickens in the off chance he thought any of them suggested he was a part of this movie. Whatever message this movie initially had has been locked so deep down in a maze of it’s own posturing and back slapping that even Ariadne would bolt for the first accessible door. I will give it this though. The scene where John Travolta gives Phoenix a hug and kiss on the back of the neck after he wins the Golden Globe, is without a doubt, the creepiest thing I saw all year at the cinema. It is telling that the moment with the greatest impact was the actual real moment, making you realise what a lost opportunity this movie was.
Kutcher kutcher ya ya yararing into number two is:
If a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters will one-day produce the work of Shakespeare, then maybe one retarded monkey with a crayon could have written this. More painful than biting down on some alfoil with your filling this movie made me long for “Knight and Day” to magically reappear on the screen for no real reason. Kutcher has the charisma of peeling paint. Heigl is every person’s worst nightmare: fucking needy. Together they made me want to slap supporting actor Tom Selleck. You’re Magnum man, get the fuck out of here while you still can! “Killers” puts the “Ow” into “Wow”.
And farting all the while doing number one:
Dear M Night Shyamalan, if that is you real name, we are officially over. I can no longer trust you no matter what sweet nothings you send to me via your always-intriguing trailers. You made a movie that was so bad it made me retrospectively hate Dev Patel in Slumdog Millionaire. You should use your power for good or at the very least fun. If they had sent this movie to the miners in Chile they would have dug their own way out using nothing more than their teeth and hatred of your film to fuel them. The only thing that stopped me from sticking a grenade in my ear was the fact that, in the UK, the term “Bender” is a euphemism for gay. So when one character yells the line, “Watch out, he’s a bender” you cannot help but smile. And that reminds you that you are still alive and that gives you hope that soon, this movie might finish.
21st of December, 2010