About This Blog

A place to find my reviews not featured on epinions.com or horror-asylum.com, as well as opinions and lists on everything from movies to TV to music. It's all about me! Send hate mail to vegie18th@hotmail.com or just leave a comment beneath the posts. Review grading system assumes C+ is somewhere in the vicinity of a Passing grade or minor fail.

Saturday, May 10, 2014

Review: Armour of God


Jackie Chan stars as a tambourine player in a cheesy band, turned adventurer nicknamed Asian Hawk, whilst Alan Tam plays his former band member and former pal who ended up with the girl (Rosamund Kwan) Chan left behind for his life of derring-do. Now years later, Tam contacts Chan to help him rescue Kwan, who has been kidnapped by an evil religious cult who are searching for the title artefact, which comes in five parts and once completed supposedly holds great supernatural power. Tam has one piece, the cult have three, and another is somewhere in Spain.

 

It plays like a much sanitised version of the outlandish “The Seventh Curse”, and I’m no Jackie Chan fan to begin with (I prefer far less comical martial arts films), but this 1986 action/adventure/comedy from the actor-writer-director has its moments of fun nonetheless. Scripted by Edward Tang (Chan’s “Rumble in the Bronx”) from a Barry Wong (John Woo’s “Hard-Boiled”) story, the absolute highlight is a fight between Jackie and what can only be described as a throng of transsexual Tina Turner impersonators. It’s insane.

 

What hurts the film is pacing, it’s appallingly slow, which is a shame. Also appalling is that boom-box on wheels known as a Mitsubishi Colt Targa Concept, a one-off version that is just ridiculously dated and ugly as hell. I don’t remember anything else from the 80s looking quite so ghastly, except maybe Kevin Cronin from REO Speedwagon. Other than that, the film is good-looking. I can appreciate Chan’s silent movie hero Buster Keaton (I loved “Sherlock Jr.” when I saw it at Uni), but Chan himself I find irritating. He mugs for the camera way too much and the comedy to an extent takes away from the otherwise cool action. I did love that Monkees-inspired band shown at the beginning, though, with Jackie on the tambourine. It’s hilarious.

 

It’s watchable if silly entertainment (was it necessary for each of the six guards to have a pack of Dobermans each?), I mean, it has something for everyone here, but the pacing really does drag it down. Loved that golf cart-driving butler, though, and the action is entertaining when it comes, including some cool car and bike stunts. I guess you could say it alternates wildly between being exciting and dull, but some of it is really tops. I’m still going to stick with “The Seventh Curse”, however. Jackie fans might disagree, however. And the man nearly died making it, so you’ve got to at least respect his dedication to entertaining the fans.

 

Rating: C+

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Review: Movie 43


Awful screenwriter Dennis Quaid tries to pitch a bunch of terrible script ideas for studio exec Greg Kinnear. These sketches include a guy with testicles on their neck (Hugh Jackman) on a date with a woman (Kate Winslet) trying not to notice, parents (Naomi Watts and Liev Schreiber) home-schooling their son (Jeremy Allen White) in the most inappropriate manner possible, a guy (Chris Pratt) wanting to propose to his girl (Anna Faris) and finding out that she gets turned on by faecal matter literally being dumped on her, Batman (Jason Sudeikis) and Robin (Justin Long) bickering on a speed date with Lois Lane (Uma Thurman), A teenage girl (Chloe Grace Moretz) has her period and freaks out her boyfriend (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) and his dad (Patrick Warburton), two losers (Seann William Scott and Johnny Knoxville) torture a seriously bad-tempered leprechaun (Gerard Butler) into giving them his pot of gold, a game of Truth or Dare on a date between Halle Berry and Stephen Merchant, and an African-American basketball coach (Terrence Howard) doesn’t bother pumping his team up because they’re black and the opposition are white.

 

No amount of warning from me is going to deter you from seeing this 2013 all-star descent into scatology. I read plenty of bad press myself before watching the film. It can’t be that bad can it? Yes, indeed it can, and yes indeed it is. A slew of directors, writers, and stars have combined to basically act out the infamous Aristocrats joke (mythologised in the often amusing, but seriously wrong documentary “The Aristocrats”) over the course of several skits and 90 long, long minutes. The result is a true embarrassment to all involved, including several Oscar nominees and Oscar winners who presumably have a massive dirt file on them that someone involved in the production got a hold of.

 

The wraparound directed by Peter Farrelly (one half of the team behind “There’s Something About Mary” and “Dumb and Dumber”) with Dennis Quaid pitching a whole bunch of bad ideas to Greg Kinnear is bad enough (and the wrong Quaid was cast), but the sketches themselves are appalling, and without the star power would look like “National Lampoon’s Dirty Movie” (which is a real movie, by the way. A really bad one too). The first sketch is particularly horrendous and made me think a little bit less of Hugh Jackman and Kate Winslet to be honest. Hugh Jackman has balls on his neck. That’s the gag. Apparently. It’s not remotely funny because there’s absolutely no reality to it. Only a five year-old would find that funny, and five year-olds are idiots whose opinions don’t matter. Do I need to tell you that Farrelly directed this too? The writers were Rocky Russo and Jeremy Sosenko who are presumably working on half a brain between them. Compare that to the opening twenty minutes of “There’s Something About Mary” (the only funny part of that film), where the humour was derived from plausible, if unlikely and embarrassing truths. A guy really could get his scrotum caught in a zipper. But a guy with testicles on his neck? What an awful start to the film.

 

The next sketch involves real-life couple Naomi Watts and Liev Schreiber and is the kind of thing that would be funny if told as a joke, but acted out it’s just embarrassing for the actors to enact. The parents teasing and bullying their own son like jocks in high school is funny, but after that they take it way, way too far and I’m sorry, but incest is only funny in “National Lampoon’s Vacation”. This segment was directed and co-written by Will Graham (whose background on “The Onion News Network” says everything), along with co-writer Jack Kuroda.

 

Meanwhile, the biggest problem with the Chris Pratt/Anna Faris segment isn’t that she wants him to shit all over her. No, it’s that you can see the joke coming from a mile away...and it’s that she wants him to shit all over her. I like scatological humour, but this film is just plain weird, and more importantly, botched and unfunny. John Waters knew how to do this right with his underrated “A Dirty Shame” (not to mention “Pink Flamingos”), but director Steve Carr (“Daddy Day Care”, “Doctor Doolittle 2”) and writers Rocky Russo & Jeremy Sosenko (again?) botch it.

 

The Emma Stone/Kieran Culkin segment was dead to me the moment Stone seems to know “The Golden Girls” but thinks Dorothy is the slutty one. Fuck off, Emma Stone has never even heard of “The Golden Girls”. Don’t lie to me, writer Matthew Portenoy. The segment as a whole is poorly written and pointless, I just didn’t get it. Griffin Dunne (the only good thing in “An American Werewolf in London”) of all people directed it, reminding me that he was the guy with the talking penis in “Me and Him”, and thus no ‘perfect stranger’ to bad comedy (nor am I, to be fair).

 

Up next is “Gotham Speed Dating”, which as the title suggests is a collection of superheroes in really bad knock-off costumes (to avoid copyright?), and...apparently superhero sex jokes are meant to be inherently funny. Directed by James Duffy and written by Will Carlough, it’d be funny perhaps if Justin Long and Jason Sudeikis’ Batman and Robin were gay, but the Aussie TV sketch show “Fast Forward” already hilariously played that up back in the 80s. The decision to not cast Emma Stone as Lois Lane was an oversight I thought. The sketch is dumb, apparently based on an earlier short by the newbie director.

 

And then Richard Gere turns up and everyone expects gerbil jokes, right? No, instead he’s given a lame ad agency skit from director Steven Brill (who made the underrated “Little Nicky”). Next.

 

Chloe Grace Moretz gets her period and apparently it’s freaky and hilarious. I don’t think it’s either. It’s normal, and a bit embarrassing. This sketch was clearly written by someone with a deep fear and hatred of women. And yet it was directed by Elizabeth Banks, who is a woman, and apparently a director now (?) and written by a woman, too, in Elizabeth Shapiro. OK so maybe it had to be written by a man, or a woman named Elizabeth. It also wastes Puddy (Patrick Warburton) and McLovin (Christopher Mintz-Plasse).

 

You’ll be shocked to find Seth McFarlane turning up in the next bit as we return to Kinnear and Quaid, who sports a (now outdated) Bieber haircut that is probably meant to be funny but just reminds me that it’s usually a bad idea to make fun of cultural icons of the day’s youth, who will move on to something else in a heartbeat and render that icon (and any jokes about it) useless and obsolete.

 

Perhaps the most inexplicable segment of all features Seann William Scott and Johnny Knoxville being berated by a miniaturised Gerard Butler as a foul-mouthed, agro leprechaun. Why would anyone even come up with that idea? Brett Ratner (“Rush Hour”) should never work again after directing this segment which was written by a presumably drunk Jacob Fleisher. After that, we are back to Farrelly territory and witness to yet another appalling career choice from Halle Berry as she enacts a juvenile game of Truth or Dare that isn’t even interesting or shocking, thanks to the lack of ingenuity by writer Greg Pritkin. Snooki’s in it, though, and we all know Snooki is still a thing, right? At least we know that Bobby Farrelly’s the smart one in the family, for staying well away from this film.

 

The final sketch of the film proper has Terrence Howard wishing he didn’t piss off Robert Downey Jr. and fuck up his entire career. Or alternatively, he plays a coach of a black basketball team. It’s one big black stereotype joke. Without the joke. Or a point. Director Rusty Cundieff and writers Rocky Russo & Jeremy Sosenko (fuck these guys, seriously) waste everyone’s time. During the end credits we get one last sketch from writer-director James Gunn (writer of the wonderful “Tromeo and Juliet”, writer-director of the overrated “Slither”) involving Banks and Josh Duhamel. And a poorly animated scatologically-minded cat named Beezel. “Fritz the Cat” it ain’t, but Duhamel deserves marks for trying his best.

 

Sorry, but this is one of the worst films I’ve seen in ages, and the only reason why it’s not the worst film of 2013 I’ve seen so far (admittedly I haven’t seen that many so far. I catch most films on cable because I’m lazy) is because “21 & Over” is unspeakably worse. This is an embarrassment to one and all, though I’m sure everyone thought at the time it’d be a lot of fun. That’s the problem when the film is made over a four year period to fit in with the various’ stars and director’s schedules. Ah hell, that’s no excuse, it’s just fucking terrible because it’s fucking terribly made. One laugh in the entire film, that’s it.

 

Rating: D+

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Review: Company of Heroes


Set during WWII (Battle of the Bulge to be more specific), a group of American soldiers (headed by Tom Sizemore and featuring Chad Michael Collins) are on a routine delivery mission (Christmas ham, no less!) when they stumble upon a top-secret Nazi plan to develop a big-time nuclear weapon. They then become involved in the plan to smuggle out the defecting German scientist (Jurgen Prochnow). There is some confusion from sniper Collins as to why the company cook is suddenly the head of a platoon, but Sizemore is no mere cook, and has a rather tragic back-story (as does his character- Zing!), we slowly learn. Richard Sammel plays one of the main Nazis, Neal McDonough is the American commander who barks the orders, whilst Vinnie Jones turns up as a brawling British soldier who tags along, apparently because he likes a fight.

 

Although it won’t make you forget “Saving Private Ryan” or “Black Hawk Down” in a hurry (especially with Tom Sizemore in the cast of all three), this WWII film from director Don Michael Paul and writer David Reed (who wrote SyFy’s surprisingly not bad horror pic “Boogeyman”) is still pretty watchable for a lesser-budgeted, direct-to-DVD film based on a video game series. I didn’t even know it was based on a video game series until after the film was over, and this certainly ain’t no Uwe Boll cheesefest. The budget occasionally shows (I personally think that’s a flaw in digital filmmaking, it tends to show the seams in a way celluloid never did), but the snowy woodland scenery is very effectively shot and quite attractive. Darkness, shadow, and light are all attractively dealt with. I must disagree with the whole zoom/pan nonsense, which is entirely unnecessary. It’s a disease especially prevalent on TV and in Tony Scott films, but here it feels...tacky. That said, the film is also pretty violent, which I approve of. What was that I was saying about being tacky? Sorry, but when a head goes squish underneath a tank, it warms my black heart, OK?

 

If you like your smaller, B-grade war movies, this one’s not bad. I just feel like there was one too many similarities to other war films for its own good, especially with Sizemore’s clichéd ‘war veteran with a poor record of keeping his men alive’ role, straight out of “Saving Private Ryan”. But let’s face it, Sizemore was probably happy to be working, and on something of even a little bit of merit. He gives a perfectly fine, no-frills showing and looks to be in OK health too, which is very encouraging (though he is still noticeably older and more weathered, which is to his advantage, playing a character who has presumably seen a lot that he now can’t un-see). In fact, I really hope Sizemore gets another chance with mainstream Hollywood. This may not be the best use of his talents, but on evidence here, I think he’s ready to come back and do something even better than this. All-purpose German bad guy Jurgen Prochnow is actually effectively cast here in a role that isn’t what it first seems. It’s a shame he’s given hardly any screen time to make it worthwhile, though. Richard Sammel gets more to do here as one of the Nazis and the “Inglourious Basterds” actor is in suitable Anton Diffring mode here. Vinnie Jones is invaluable casting in this, as the kind of rowdy, possibly unstable guy who might just end up being Telly Savalas in “The Dirty Dozen”. He’s fun to watch, at any rate, stealing his every scene.

 

This isn’t a substantial war film, but it’s a better one than I was expecting, and hey, who doesn’t love seeing Vinnie Jones bust a few heads in a pub fight? It’s clichéd, though not boring, and quite a good try. With a bigger budget, it might’ve been even better (those explosions look a bit fake, unfortunately).

 

Rating: B-

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Review: Shaolin Soccer


Fung (Ng Mang Tat) is a former soccer star whose career ended unhappily. Now more than 20 years later he sees a chance to seek revenge on the man who wronged him (Patrick Tse) a smug celebrity coach of a soccer team named Team Evil. Fung’s plan? Hire Shaolin martial artist Sing (Stephen Chow) and create a team that bases their soccer play around their Kung Fu prowess!

 

I enjoyed director-star Stephen Chow’s spectacularly silly but stylish “Kung Fu Hustle” quite a bit, and although I passionately loathe soccer, I figured if anyone could make something entertaining out of the so-called sport, it might just be Chow. Nope, he can’t. This 2001 film makes a big mistake in being primarily a slapstick sports comedy that fails to do anything interesting or exciting with the central concept of a soccer team trained off of kung fu. Instead of something like “Eight Diagram Pole Fighter”, it’s closer to “Space Jam”. And “Space Jam” sucked. This is better, but not enough to be considered a good film.

 

The concept is cute, but boy is it all over the shop in execution, very sloppily made. The screenplay in particular is borderline incoherent at times, as written by Chow and co-writer Kan-Cheung Tsang (who co-wrote “Kung Fu Hustle”, which had coherency issues of its own). There are fun moments such as the hilariously OTT opening credits, and what can only be described as a super kung-fu Pele kick that has to be seen to be believed. The Bruce Lee/spaghetti western-inspired showdown towards the end between Chow and a seemingly impenetrable goalie is cute too. I loved that the goalie on Chow’s team was dressed exactly like Bruce Lee.

 

But a lot of this is just too silly, including Chow’s irritating performance. It’s nice that his character is more endearing than in “Kung Fu Hustle” and the female character is written better, but if you find Jackie Chan’s mugging too much, this film will make you gag non-stop. A whole team of soccer players who Bend it Like Beckham might’ve seemed like a good idea, but as executed here, a little goes...practically nowhere at all.

 

It’s probably someone’s idea of fun, but this is basically a live-action cartoon- a poor one, dull and stupid. Stephen Chow is talented, but I’m not entirely certain he is a good director, and his vision is just too weird, slapsticky, and erratic for me. Sorry, but this one wasn’t of much interest to me outside of Chow wanting to improve life through the teachings of Kung-fu, which is a lovely message. It was a ginormous hit in its native Hong Kong, so there you go.

 

Did I mention that I hate soccer passionately? Yes, soccer. Deal with it. Soccer is a code of football, not football itself. Yes, it’s the one code that uses feet almost exclusively. So?

 

Rating: C

Review: Auto Focus


Greg Kinnear stars as Bob Crane, who started out as a DJ before moving to television with the initially controversial prison camp TV comedy “Hogan’s Heroes”. The film mostly focuses on his personal life, however. He starts out as a seemingly happy, All-American husband to Rita Wilson and father to their kids, as well as a regular churchgoer. Crane was a different man on the inside, however. He likes the seedy side of life, strip joints and so forth. And then he meets John Carpenter (Willem Dafoe) an AV nut who introduces his new best mate Crane (whom Carpenter clearly has sexual leanings towards that Crane absolutely does not reciprocate) to the wonders of videotape technology, and orgies. And yes, the duo end up combining the two as Crane’s life becomes out of control. He is a sex addict, and is eventually unable to keep both sides of his personality separate, horrifying Wilson. In the end, his show gets cancelled, his reputation is in tatters, but hey, John Carpenter’s still around, like an over-eager puppy who just wants to be liked. Maria Bello plays Crane’s former co-star and second wife, who is much more liberated than Wilson. Kurt Fuller plays “Hogan’s Heroes” actor Werner Klemperer. Ron Leibman is Crane’s long-suffering agent, who finds it hard to get his client work when his personal issues start to surface in public.

 

Y’know, it’s a good thing Greg Kinnear can act, because he sure as shit doesn’t look or sound remotely like Bob Crane in this 2002 biopic from director Paul Schrader (writer of “Taxi Driver”, director of the underrated “Blue Collar” and the sleazy “American Gigolo”) and writer Michael Gerbosi, based on a Robert Graysmith book (Graysmith being the infamous reporter played by Jake Gyllenhaal in “Zodiac”, based on his book about his work on the real-life serial killer case). If you can forget that this is the Bob Crane story, the film works in regards to the dichotomy between an All-American TV star and family man, and insatiable, sleazy sex addict. It’s interesting, if unseemly stuff, and Kinnear gets better as the film goes on, once “Hogan’s Heroes” has become a distant memory. As a sleaze trying to keep up appearances, he’s pretty damn good. It’s not Kinnear’s fault he’s not much like Bob Crane (he sounds a bit like Casey Kasem, though), it’s the idiot who cast him. If Kinnear is Bob Crane, then I’m Usain Bolt- I’m white and a paraplegic, so believe me, I am not Usain Bolt.

 

The best performance in the film, and the main reason to see the film, would be Willem Dafoe as John ‘Not the Halloween Guy’ Carpenter. This guy seems more like a drug dealer than anything, but with pornography as the drug, and Crane as the junkie. The brown contacts don’t quite convince, but Dafoe is so slimy you feel like having 20 showers afterwards. He also has the greatest watch I’ve ever seen. I want one. Dafoe’s a frustrating actor, he’s got genuine talent, presence and power...on occasion. But this, “Platoon” and “Shadow of the Vampire” are such occasions. Kinnear’s not the only hopeless case of miscasting here. The guy playing future “Family Feud” host (and “Running Man” villain) Richard Dawson is pretty cut-rate, but more importantly, Kurt Fuller comes across as the most Jewish sounding Nazi character of all-time. Cast as Col. Klink actor Werner Klemperer, Fuller hasn’t got a hope because everyone can do a Col. Klink impersonation, and we’re all better at it than Fuller. Much better. Dude’s not even close, made worse by the fact that Willem Dafoe does an infinitely better Klink impersonation himself at one point in the film (though he obviously doesn’t look like him). Much better are Ron Leibman and especially Maria Bello as Crane’s long-suffering agent and rather accommodating second wife, respectively. Long-serving character actor Joe Grifasi is perfectly cast in the small role of a strip joint emcee.

 

The film doesn’t really work as ‘Hollywood’s dirty little secret’ because Greg Kinnear isn’t anything like Bob Crane, but the film nonetheless has merits as one man’s inability to keep his public image, family life, and sex addiction all separate. I must say, though that for a once controversial film, it has already dated a bit on that front. Lots of nudity, but otherwise pretty tame. It ultimately becomes a very sad cautionary tale as Crane seems to want to get his life back on track, but his fate was sealed the day he hooked up with creepy, and clearly needy Carpenter. It’s quite shocking to see just how far this guy falls as he becomes more recklessly indiscreet about his off-screen peccadilloes. Kinnear is tragically miscast, but tries damn hard to stop you from noticing, and Schrader is definitely the right guy to film this sleazy material. 

 

Rating: B-

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Review: Changing Lanes


Slick (just shy of being morally bankrupt), privileged Wall Street lawyer Ben Affleck gets into a minor ding with down on his luck reformed alcoholic Samuel L. Jackson, at the exact wrong moment for both men. They’re both expected in court (different courts of course), Affleck because it’s his job, and Jackson because he has a custody hearing with his (almost) ex-wife. Jackson’s life was about to potentially head in the right direction before the collision with Affleck. Affleck, not wanting to hang around for the cops, offers Jackson a blank check. Jackson, being a recovering addict, of course wants to do things the right way. And that’s when Affleck makes the mistake of blowing him off and saying ‘Better luck next time’, driving off. Both are late for their appointments, but for Jackson, the consequences of his lateness are much more severe, thanks to a rather harsh judge (Joe Grifasi) and a fed-up ex. And then Affleck realises that he left behind an important legal document at the scene of the accident, an Jackson is now in possession of it. And he doesn’t seem terribly interested in returning it anytime soon, and if Affleck doesn’t get it, he and his legal partners (who have even less scruples than Affleck) could be in very deep trouble. So Affleck responds in kind, as the two men try to one-up each other making the other person’s life a living hell. Amanda Peet plays Affleck’s happy-to-be-privileged wife, Sydney Pollack is Affleck’s amoral senior law partner and father-in-law, Richard Jenkins is Pollack’s right-hand man, and Toni Collette is Affleck’s loyal secretary/occasional mistress (Cheating on Amanda Peet with Muriel Heslop? Really? OK then...). William Hurt plays Jackson’s concerned AA sponsor, and Dylan Baker plays a guy who ‘fixes’ things, like screwing with Jackson’s credit.

 

A highly underrated thriller with interesting social commentary, this 2002 film from director Roger Michell (lesser fare like “Venus”, “Notting Hill”, and “Morning Glory”) and writers Chap Taylor (a first-timer) and Michael Tolkin (the overrated Altman film “The Player”) really only has a moment or two that I didn’t believe in. Otherwise, it’s a very sad and tense film about a situation that didn’t need to go anywhere near where it does, if not for some bad and selfish (but understandable and credible at the same time) behaviour.

 

The two lead performances are spot-on here. Samuel L. Jackson is perfect at these kinds of powder keg roles, as well as characters who have a bit of self-pity and bitterness to them. Ben Affleck makes for a perfect yuppie schmuck who learns a lesson in humility, but spends much of the film being borderline pathetically weaselly. It’s one of his best performances to date. This isn’t a bad guy, just not an especially moral or thoughtful one, and he doesn’t have much of a spine, either. He’s slick but somewhat empty inside, save for a shred of humanity in there. Jackson’s character is probably the more sympathetic of the two, especially early on. But he crosses a line at one point, and is a bit too self-pitying to be totally sympathetic. So you want to hate Affleck and like Jackson, but both end up in an uncomfortable, but not at all uninteresting shades of grey area.

 

The real villains of the piece are the characters played by the late Sydney Pollack and character actor Dylan Baker. A perfectly cast Pollack is so damn good here that he nearly makes you agree with his jaded, amoral POV, and the character is scarily believable. Baker, meanwhile is just flat-out slimy, and creepy playing a truly repulsive character. Long-serving character actor Joe Grifasi also impresses as the exact kind of character I just loathe. He plays a judge who gives Jackson the ‘If I had somewhere to be, I’d get there on time’ speech. That pisses me off, because as someone who takes taxis and always rings up well in advance to get me to where I need to go and be there early- not on time, early!- it doesn’t always work out like that. You can try to leave an hour early to travel ten minutes and still be late. Allowances need to be made. However, that is no criticism of the film. Characters like this do exist in reality. I just hate them passionately.

 

It’s an especially well-written film, calculated rather than contrived, and pretty close to air tight from what I could tell, a heightened reality without being silly or unbelievable. There are a few exceptions, however, though they are minor. Jackson has one scene that just didn’t work for me, where a phone call between him and his ex is interrupted by two drunks he needlessly insulted just prior. It’s too tacked on for my liking. I also wasn’t entirely sold on the Amanda Peet character to be honest. Thematically, her rather amoral character fits in, but something- perhaps her dialogue- didn’t ring true to me.

 

I personally don’t think the film needed the ending it has. Ending the film at the earlier scene between Jackson and Affleck could’ve worked, with a little tweaking. The ending we have, though, is fine, I just think there’s a better ending out there. I’m totally nitpicking, however, as this is definitely a good script for a highly underrated film that might make you think about how many things need to go wrong in your own life before you too start to debase yourself.

 

Rating: B