Yeah, I'm one of the people who saw this movie this weekend and gave it is spot at Number One after being out for what, three months now? Seems like it, as ubiquitous as all the Butterscotch Stallion talk has been this summer. But you see, I didn't really help grant it Number One status after all, because the only reason I went and saw it was because we had free passes! So I win, Butterscotch Stallion, I have beaten you, ha ha!
Ahem. Anyway, I totally had forgotten until a few minutes ago that I'd gone to see this movie yesterday. That tells you something right there. Though that something it tells you isn't the entire truth, since I also had a massive hangover and could barely hold up my head while watching it, which is not entirely the film's fault. Score one, Butterscotch.
Okay, this is a mess of a review so far. As it should be, since I have basically forgotten every moment of the movie. What I do remember is that little spitfire Isla Fisher was pretty amusing, and I have a totally platonic gay man's straight crush on Rachel McAdams. Like, I love her. I find her adorable and funny and a convincing actress and just want to totally hang out with her and have coffee and chat about that dreamy Ryan Gosling and ask her if it was really hard to pretend that anyone could possibly find Owen Wilson attractive when he has the skin of a seventy year old chain-smoker and that... nose... and if she ever had the urge to totally just knee Vince Vaughn in the groin, just once, to see if he's hung like a Ken doll.
Will Ferrell is usually able to make me laugh but his cameo was just weird and unfunny. The movie was way too long, repeated the same jokes too many times, and... I really rather dislike Wilson and Vaughn. I mean, I think Owen Wilson is a terrific writer and obviously a very intelligent man, I just wish he'd stayed a writer and spared me his face and even moreso his voice because they are both set to grate like a sumbitch on my nerves.
Vince Vaughn... oh, what happened to the days when he was playing Norman Bates and walking up a staircase in nice pants that just made me go damn that's a nice ass, as opposed to just damn what an ass?
But Rachel, you're gold, baby. Love ya. Will be seeing you stalked on an airplane by The Scarecrow in just a couple weeks for sure.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment