Hi, I’m The Jerk.
You might remember me from that time the League of Outraged Catholic Ladies had me censored for saying …
Um, no. Look, all I said was K-Lo is kinda …
Fine. I get the gist.
Well, the outraged ladies have won, as Simcha has told me that I’m not allowed to do this movie review without an in-blog editor checking it to make sure I’m not being too offensive. Anyway, here he is, “Dr.” Johnboy Zmirak:
Actually, I’d hate to. But speaking of onanism, here’s this week’s movie:
You know how you can tell a movie is good? I mean really really good? Well, finding it for sale in the discount bin at the gas station where I buy my beer is a surefire tip this one’s a winner.
This movie has it all: stupid characters with pointless quirks, a story that starts slow and stays slow, Bono singing Lou Reed songs on the soundtrack, and some rank antisemitism.
Yup, Mel Gibson stars in this movie as a FBI agent with a secret past. That past? He grew up as a circus freak with either an arm or a Jew growing out of his back. The movie is never really clear about Mel’s deformity, but it is clear in its feelings about the Joooooooos.
Good point Johnny, but you should zip up now.
Lookit, Gibson is a tragedy of booze, crazy, bad decisions, and more crazy. This guy is seriously talented: a leading man who can act, a unique storyteller, and a hell of a director. But you can see, in this pre-“sugar-tits” incident movie, the seeds of his destruction are there …
ANYWAY, Mel’s character is hired by a Jewish media mogul to find out who killed his son, Israel, a junkie poet living at the Million Dollar Hotel. Spoiler – Israel is the movie’s real villain who sets off tragedy and quirks by raping the heroine. The mogul explains he and “his people” control the world, so Gibbo had better do a good job and find the killer.
Ugh. Look, if Jews really ran the media do you think that Simcha would put up with me?
Is it really all Mel’s fault, though? No. It is not. This stink burger was directed by Wim Wenders, the guy who made that movie about angels and crap.
Yeah. And let’s not forget the writer, one Paul David Hewson, also known as Bono.
No, I said Bono.
I bet you did.
The movie’s hero is Tom Tom, played by some guy. Does it really matter? Really?
Oh, don’t worry, you were plenty forgettable.
Tom Tom is what you call “movie special needs.” You never really know what his deal is, but he’s got one. I think he has Independent Movie Quirk Syndrome. It was first discovered by Johnny Depp in the 1990s, but scientists have yet to find a cure.
IMQS seems to afflict everyone in this movie, from the guy who thinks he was a Beatle, to the hooker with a heart of gold plating played by indy movie queen Amanda “Honey Bunny” Plummer, to even Jimmy Smits as a native American painter who paints with tar. Yes. Tar. Jimmy, why?
Not an argument, Jimmy. Not an argument.
Of course this movie features Milla Jovovich as the fragile and broken heroine, because the producers couldn’t afford Winona Ryder.
She plays crazy/quirky about as well as ….
Damnit John, you’re ruining my review and all the hand towels. I watched this whole dumb movie, and I don’t even get to write the review without your nonsense.
Well, until next time, amigos.