paul-day-clone

I started this once and stopped because, for god's sake, how much green screen can one person take? It came around again and soldiered on this time and...for god's sake, how much green screen can one person take? The whole conceit of trying to make the French Revolution look sexxxxxxy is ridiculous. The plot, which I didn't understand has a hole as big as Depardieu's nose: Did they really have the technology for unbreakable mirrors in the 1870s? Yes, I know it's fantasy but everything on the screen screamed "2000AD steampunk" rather than "period costume". Almost every single effect served not to enhance the plot but to make you stop thinking about it. "Is that street real or CGI?" You don't want your audience asking this question or at least *I* don't want to ask this question.

The plot? Um..a journalist is looking for...some guy. A whole bunch of special effects happen. There's some pretty people. Some ugly people. A little nudity. A big fight at the end and who really knows what happens or why.

It's probably a great movie to get baked and watch but, sadly, I don't smoke weed anymore.

Do you like hearing extended version of original xmas, played with a lot of reverb and then restarted kind of at random? BINGO! You've found your movie! Do you like women who are *almost* hot! You've got 'em! Do you like body paint doubling as blood? OOOH! You win! Fake breasts? CHECK! Some kind of a Kurt Cobain look-alike who pops in sometimes to say great things like "Oooooh! That Susan! I wish I had a chance to kill her!" AND, as a bonus, it's filmed in a basement! Got a boner, yet? Neither do I.

What happens when you get a bunch of Canadian sixes and try to make some kind of polemic about sexism? This. This right here.

Donny is a douchebag photographer who's only in it for the poontang. Boy, is he a bad guy! He JUST USES WOMEN! He bangs women behind his girlfriend's back. He makes her do his laundry and do all the shopping. One night during dinner with friends, he tries to hit on his best friend's girlfriend. Donny's girlfriend catches him and everyone tells him he's a jerk and leaves. So he gets drunk, make unsuccessful booty calls and needs to throw up. So he goes to the bathroom and...FALLS INTO SOME KIND OF TIME HOLE. Or something. Either way, he falls into the lair of some society of feminists. What follows is A Christmas Carol where Donny's shown the error of his ways. We're subjected to vignettes of Donny being a dick with women, how he's screwed their lives up and a whole lot of really badly written faux-feminist crap that sounds like it was written by a guy because it was.

Joel Olson's one gear consists of smirking. He can't even lie convincingly. He just smirks. "I'm sorry," he smirks. "I love you," he smirks. "Don't kill me," he smirks. Dominique St. Croix does a passable job as the dominatrix...er...queen of the feminists but that's not saying a lot given that she gets to say things like "you just throw women away like trash."

Throughout the whole mess, you get the feeling that film actually believes that they've come up with something new. It's only listed as sci-fi because the society wears belted lavender tights conducive to camel toe.

If you want to know how not to write dialog, this is your movie.