/blurbish

mythtaken is the fault of a somewhat fannish-oriented, marginally geeky englishwoman with too much time on her hands and serves as an attic for her to keep all her stuff in.

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Also at: livejournal, vox

/lately

On the box: Supernatural, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, Charlie Brooker's Screenwipe, Heroes, Knight Rider

At the flicks: Quantum of Solace

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/current reading

Saturday, July 26, 2008

In which I watch a Rob Schneider film and hurtle into an abyss of self loathing

Even though I've had an eminently respectable Werner Herzog film out on rental for ages now, last night for some reason I decided to watch Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo - which isn't just a bad film but a SEQUEL to a bad film. And it was so thunderingly, bizarrely horrible that once I'd started watching I SIMPLY COULDN'T STOP.

I have only myself to blame. I could have switched it off after the first two minutes when Deuce is impelled to visit his ex-pimp in Amsterdam because he's trying to lay low having inadvertantly caused a TERRIBLE CETACEAN DISASTER. Or a bit later when TJ the pimp is worried people will think he's gay because he keeps getting caught looking at DEAD MEN'S PENISES. Or when Deuce has to start whoring again in order to investigate the gigolo murders and takes out a woman whose mother worked at Chernobyl and who was born with a PENIS instead of a nose, and I'm assuming she has a little pair of FACIAL GONADS as well because, well, you can guess what happens when she sneezes. Or when another client of Deuce's turns out to be a woman with no larynx who is somehow able to geiser wine out of her TRACHEOSTOMY. Or when I discovered that Deuce's pretty Dutch love interest is played by a woman who is LITERALLY YOUNG ENOUGH to be Rob Schneider's DAUGHTER. Or when TJ drops some chips in a toilet but decides to eat them anyway and then a cat comes in and SAVAGES HIS BALLS.

BUT I DIDN'T SWITCH IT OFF.

I sat through every damn knob, tit and fart joke. Every gag about Asian men's penises being small (which is a stereotype I'd heard of but never actually seen deployed), or how funny it is when men get sexually assaulted by women (or by other men. In prison), or people accidentally eating SPUNK because someone just sneezed it into their soup. HA HA! And Oded Fehr was in it for all of two minutes - which is a ridiculously short amount of time for Oded Fehr to be in something - and most of that time he spent CHOKING. And then it did that thing that ALL American gross-out sex-comedies do, which is to have a completely incongruous sweetly conservative unsubtle message. Deuce is kind of a spod and probably a hopeless lover, but women like him because he TOTALLY ASKS THEM ABOUT THEIR DAY and is all nice to them and shit. And it's sweet and NOT AT ALL CREEPY that he carries his dead wife's prosthetic leg around with him and encourages his clients to get boob jobs.

And I sat there and I watched it and I watched it and I didn't watch the eminently respectable Werner Herzog film that I've had out on rental for AGES NOW and I marvelled at how much skill and time and effort had gone into making this HORRIBLE FILM and I hated Rob Schneider and I hated Adam Sandler but most of all I hated MYSELF.

[ mood | cynical ]
[ music | Kula Shaker - Sound of Drums