Bad News Bears (2005)
Linklater: “You know, the original was pretty good, but what if–and I’m thinking outside the box here–what if we dropped the The?”… Studio Chief: “Barbara! Bring me my giant checkbook, and hurry!”
The World's Most Important Fake Critic
Linklater: “You know, the original was pretty good, but what if–and I’m thinking outside the box here–what if we dropped the The?”… Studio Chief: “Barbara! Bring me my giant checkbook, and hurry!”
The Aristocrats is fucking filthy. It’s as foul, crusty and rank as the crotch of a overused middle-aged whore in the desert. It’s just a God damn nasty movie. And everything this nasty–the Tavern Harelip singing karaoke and those DVDs of retards humping vegetables–has its charms.
Overall, The Amityville Horror is an unimaginative bore. Sure, the acting is terrible, with Reynolds showing us his boogers instead of emoting, and George mostly screeching and yowling like a cat with its tail caught in a woodchipper (she has dazzling breasts, though, and nice sweaters). But what lowers this thing into the crapper is how lame and contrived the scares are.
All of the actors who passed on the script for Alone in the Dark smelled this heap of shit while it was still in the mail truck down the street. But Slater, Reid and Dorff either didn’t smell it or thought it had the pleasing odor of their own farts.
The plot, which hit us in drab greasy blobs of expository dialog is some goth kid’s wet dream about cloning and a perfect society collapsing because the clones are beginning to remember past lives, and some asshole who wants to live forever killing off women who get pregnant because that means no clones.