Your Three Hour Movie Sucks

I can think of two things that I would be interested in doing for three hours straight: One is sleeping, and the other is trying on shoes I can't afford at DSW Shoe Warehouse just so I can say I spent the afternoon in $700 heels. I can tell you what I DON'T want to do for three hours straight, and that's watch your stupid two hundred million dollar, "slickly-produced" movie where stuff blows up and Tom Cruise/Will Smith/Brad Pitt saves the day and throws in a kicky one-liner that's both funny and touching and makes the overpaid nouveau-Hollywood actress drop her pants for him after pretending she didn't like him for the entire movie. There's usually a cheeky kid in the mix somewhere too, who adds nothing to the story but makes middle-aged secretaries in the audience who collect Precious Moments figurines go "Awwww." and use phrases like "it really tugs at your heart strings" when describing the movie to their cats when they get home. Let us also not forget the funny and/or vaguely ethnic partner of the main guy who's destined to bite it halfway through the movie so even you macho guys can well up for minute while trying to touch your date's boobs through her Hollister sweater in the back row of the theater.

Note to egomaniacal director: You could have easily shaved an hour and a half off your movie and accomplished the same schmaltz that took you three hours to hack out like a furrball onto the screen. Heck, you could just run a still shot of one of those eighty-five cent posters of a kitten dangling from the clothesline with "Hang in There, Baby!" written across the screen and illicited the same emotional response that you got for your three hour, two hundred million dollar, nauseatingly pedestrian, uber-ironic-cliche', pandering piece of crap wank-job snore-fest.

If you can drag yourself away from the cineplex/crap factory this Saturday, be sure to catch The Freakin' Hott along with I Am Stereo for Popscene at Dada in Delray Beach. Show starts at 11pm and will end approximately two hours and fifty-nine minutes after that.

Maggie