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Kino Korner August 23, 2002
 
X-Treme Movies Kapsulz
By Mark Ames Browse author Email
 
 

THE SWEETEST THING

Keep this in mind when reading this review: Ted Bundy, who murdered dozens of young women over several years and in several The Sweetest Thing states, capped his Hall of Fame murder career by walking up to a Florida sorority late one night, grabbing a huge log, and barreling down the sorority hallway in a Very Bundy Frat Prank, crushing Muffy skulls on his way from one end to the other. It was Bundy's last murder spree, and in many ways, the one that made the most sense. That log will figure big in our reaction to this chick-flick "comedy."

Now, onto our review of The Sweetest Thing. We knew that this film was going to hurt. We knew it when we went to the kiosk in front of the Metropol to buy the pirate copy. We refused to be seen at the Dome Theater paying to see it, but that didn't help us none.

Welp, we -- the royal "we" -- gots what we asked for. There are so many things wrong with this movie, really seriously insanely wrong, that we'd need all 24 pages of this issue just to get the table of contents down. Fortunately, we're working with limited space here, so we'll try to keep it to bullet points.

MANIC MARK'S MOVIE MADNESS!

American movies have a way of inspiring rather X-treme reactions in the more sensitive viewers on our great planet. We at the eXile are no eXception. One lousy film has a way of instantly converting us from flag-waving American patriots into Koran-thumping jihadists booking first class one-way coast-to-coast tickets with plans in our burning hearts... Seriously.

During America's brief introspection period after 9/11 -- which lasted all of a week or so -- much was made of how the predominance of American pop culture around the world inspired both awe and envy, love and hatred of the Great Satan. This kind of love-hate relationship with America is something we share with our Muslim eXtremist cousins.

Every so often a truly great American film appears -- over the past year you've had your Mulholland Drives, your The Man Who Wasn't Theres and your Not Another Teen Movies. These are the kinds of films that will be around in a hundred years, even after the Chinese take over the world. When movies like these hit the screens, you'll see the entire eXile staff lining up outside the nearest US Marine recruitment center, proudly wrapped in the stars 'n stripes, begging to be strapped to the turret of the first Abrams tank that promises to roll into Baghdad just as soon as the corrupt, spineless Republicans pull their nine irons out of their quivering asses...

Then there are other movies -- say, about 90 percent-plus of Hollywood's output -- which are some of the best recruiting material for Al Qaeda this side of a Baluchistan madras.

In this issue of the eXile, we will be running a trial program presenting you, the kino kapsule reader, with a simple, E-Z way to determine the psychological effect that movies currently playing in Moscow will produce on the average eXhole. Good movies will be assigned American flags ranging from one to three, indicating the degree to which said fine film will inspire viewers to join the Coalition with America in its War on Terrorism; shitty movies will be assigned Bin Laden icons, indicating how many new Al Qaeda suicide bombers the flick will likely recruit during each showing in a predominantly Muslim country. Sometimes, as in the case of The Sweetest Thing and other chick flicks, a special Ted Bundy icon will be used to rate how many new American male serial killers the movie will create with each viewing, assuming an average movie theater with 50 percent attendance.

Ready? Let's go!

First of all, the actresses. What happened to Cameron Diaz? She used to be almost not bad looking; now she looks like a snakefish fresh out of a Maryland pond, giant jaws like a bear trap welded to a dwarfish forehead. Then there's Christina Applegate, who once earned our love not only for playing the teen slut on "Married With Children," but also for her notorious wiggly-bacon imitation of River Phoenix's convulsions on the streets of Hollywood after he OD'd on a speedball. Sadly, that Christina Applegate is dead and she's never coming back; what's left is a skanky Jennifer Anistonabee. Diaz and Applegate are supposed to be fun to watch as a kind of "hey, I know you" duo -- and the scary thing is, most Americans probably find their characters funny and likable.


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Ames
Browse author
Email Mark Ames at editor@exile.ru.
 
 
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