Sarcastic Movie Reviews

Pure Shit.

Pretentious Shit.

So damn pretentious that my shit wanted to crawl back up into my ass rather than be associated with this film.

The film opens with a Spanish Conquistador battling some angry Mayans a la “Indiana Jones” but then it quickly turns into a bald headed guy astral projecting himself into a floating glass ball with a tree in it, until the snow globe turns into an operating room where a surgeon is working on a monkey’s brain.

Still with me? The guy’s wife has cancer and while he’s eating the bark from the tree she has an annoying habit of sticking her head out from behind the tree and asking him to go for a walk with her in the snow.

Except that there’s no snow in the glass ball.

If this guy was writing a story about the 3 little pigs they’d have a Musk Ox named Brutus and they’d live in shopping cart at the bottom of the Caspian Sea.

Fortunately the projectionist fucked up about 45 minutes into the film and after I explained to the usher that even THIS director wouldn’t be filming the entire movie from the eyebrows down I just decided to join the 16 people that walked out and I caught the last period of the Senator’s hockey game.

I think this is the worst film I’ve seen in a decade.

The name is Vaio, SONY Vaio.

God Bless Product Placement!

The terrorists send text messages on their Sony Ericsson M600i, which James intercepts using software on his Vaio laptop and people stroll around snapping photos with their Sony DSCN2 Cyber-shot digital cameras.

I was half expecting Mr. Bond to beat the bad guys to death with a Playstation 3 (or was that just the people lined up this morning outside of Best Buy?)

Don’t get me wrong, this is a great film, but is it really a James Bond film?

Firstly the Bond girl doesn’t have the word “Labia” worked into her name in any way shape or form.

Vespa Lynd? It doesn’t even rhyme with clitoris.

What a let down.

Secondly, James Bond bleeds.

That’s right, if you shoot him or stab him he actually gets sore and his wounds even scab over. Don’t expect any puss mind you, but it’s a start.

Thirdly, forget any gadgets, unless you can purchase them at the local box store.

Other than the aforementioned product placement I don’t really remember seeing anything other than a defibrillator in the glove box of the Austin Martin. There aren’t any ejection seats, laser guided exploding boomerangs or invisible projectile firing jockey shorts anywhere in this film.

If James has to get to a guy in the next room, he has to use a freaking door, or at least drive a truck through the wall.

Yes kids, all of the stunts are totally realistic if you’re as agile a gecko and have the shoulder joints of a mountain gorilla.

What about the quips you ask? Well, for sure there are a few zingers, and if you want to get a chuckle yourself might I suggest that you scream out “The girl can be REPLACED!!” when he trashes his car rather than run over Versper. I know I got a giggle or two last night from the frat boys behind me.

So is this bleeding, limping craggy faced spy who actually has to kill people with his bare hands instead of an exploding tuna fish really James Bond, or is he just an older Jason Bourne?

You know what? I hope that they NEVER go back to the guy with decapitating bowler hat.