The 107 year old company is doomed via projected losses. The unpleasant John and his greasy hair (Jeremy Irons) plots to prevent the company’s worth plummeting via hissing and shaking his hamster jowls. Everyone is orange and while this isn’t emotionally tense it is okay. Will (Paul Bettany) accepts the persuasive projection of ruin. It is time for merciless rationality, incomprehensibility, some salutary effects and a paucity of options. I liked this.
“They were good at their jobs, but you were better.”
“I frankly don’t even know what is you guys do.”
“It gets ugly in a hurry.”
“That’s very deep and depressing thank you.”
“How did you spend it all?”
“I don’t wanna hear this. How do you think I’ve stuck around this place so long?”
“This one is very ugly.”
“I understand. Hit it.”
There are domestic violence jokes, polyester hair, 90s fashion, Josie wants her band to be exalted and then doesn’t and Wyatt is toadying and unprofessional. This was not moreish as subliminal messages are used to control the youth of America. Josie and her gang are unpleasantly sealed off from reality as they are ethereally successful and float around above the human fray infallibly protected or so they think.
This film was too po-faced and full of sneering salaciousness. It is preternaturally surreal and full of disjointed awkwardness. The characters are flat and dimesionlessness and succeed by being imperiously kooky morons without any burning ambition. This was non-compelling, non-reflective, non-mellifluous and non-transformative. This relentlessly dull film had blue eye shadow, no integrity, mocking achievements and 90s culture is derided. This flopped and didn’t redefine cinema mostly because of the self-absorbed uncharismatic gang bemoaning everything.
This was an only ab-deep tale of clashing egos, precious no-talents, betrayals, irretrievably dumb people and was a career killer for most of those involved. Everyone looks Thermaged and TPL’d to death and everyone acts totally ignorant. There is a fight and a concert and a dance party and it is all about as appealing as grout. I feel frustration with this film due to the ineptness and being inundated with cultural dictates.
“First it pooed on my incense.”
“Skanky had a rock show and nobody came.”
“Enjoy the gutters Josie.”
“Bite me Bambi!”
“Make me, nose job.”
“I gotta buy a six pack of Zima.”
“Ever wonder why so many rock stars die in plane crashes? Overdose on drugs? We’ve been doing this a long time.”
“They are totally jerkin’.”
“Heath Ledger is the new Matt Damon.”
“The four-wheeled hell pit.”
“We managed to land the plane just fine. Unfortunately, it was in the parking lot of a Metallica show. Well, the fans beat the crap out of us.”
The peripatetic strippers with bluff exteriors hiding dark desperation don’t engage and it is all farcical. Mike falls for The Kid’s sister Brooke (Cody Horn) for some reason. She is a seething mass of bile, criticism and classism who can‘t be mollified. This is a bro-comedy with overly tight shorts. Brooke never changes her facial expression, Mike wants to go legit and there is hedonism all around. The club is moving to Miami and the weak willed Kid does something stupid. This was a voraciously awful movie with duplicity, fiendishly awful people ranting about remuneration, incongruously stupid decisions, unreasonable behaviour and unprepossessing himbos. I don’t care about The Kid and his false self-assurance or Brooke and Mike’s obviously doomed hook up.
“What did you say?”
“The cougars will eat him up.”
“Watch out for herpes.”