And then there's Big Money Rustlas, which made me want to hurt this movie so badly. The tragic thing is that I can never hurt it in the way its hurt me. I went toe to toe to brash ugly stupidity, and lost when it reared its hideous head, cornered me, then pummeled me with the lowest common denominator of the human experience.
In the end...I was defeated by this movie. I just couldn't finish it. I crawled away from it and thought of happier days - the pull of the tide, the laughter of children. Its hard to say when I'll feel like me again.
There's a plot - the members of the Insane Clown Posse, still confused on why no one will take them seriously, put on westerny clothes and pretend they're making a movie. There is a plot that I assume was hastily written on a napkin, which was used to wipe off wing sauce, which then fell on the floor. I'm also assuming the editing floor was surprisingly clean after this was deemed good to go.
Here's some moments. I hated all of them.
Separately, I could tell you what these words mean. Put together, I just don't understand.
You can make me read all you want, movie, still going to hate you.
"Hey guys! What if we have a guy in leather shoot lasers out of his eyes during one part. Because I saw it in a movie once. There's money in the budget for that, right?"
This movie made me wish for the deceptive simplicity and heart strings tugging approach of Convoy. May this film be translated to film stock then stored in a dark damp place. Like a cheese factory. Or the ample mouth of a member of the Insane Clown Posse.