And it does not disappoint in its badness. Some trick editing paying a lousy homage to the legendary metamorphosis in the original Wolf Man (1941). It is clear some kind of poor camera magic is responsible for what is happening here. The most eventful moment of the film so far. Something supernatural that hardly looks like it. A greasy veneer of fuzz encroaching across his forehead, towards his eyes and nose. What seems like an endless number of minutes of a man staring back at the audience and us watching in befuddlement as his hairline slowly descends upon him, excruciatingly drawn out. A badness that forever colours everything that came before, and everything that will come after. The kind of bad that can hook someone into the rest of the film if that’s what they’ve been waiting for. And, yes, even more bad pants, but now filled with legs doing inexcusably bad things beneath disco lights.īut then there is something really bad to finally bring everything into focus. Not even when there is suddenly an entire nightclub full of bad dancing, to even worse music. And yet, as delightful as this apocalypse may be, it never seems to be enough to sustain an entire movie.
Rain a torrent of the most mediocre frogs down upon the earth. Blot all light from the sky, extinguishing the sun. Enough in its meagre 82 minutes to fill the universe to bursting. Also, bad haircuts, bad sex and, whenever a chair is needed to hit someone over the head, or a table required to topple onto, all manner of bad prop furniture eager to disintegrate upon impact.Īt times there is no end to the bad. There are a lot of bad pants in this movie.
0 kommentar(er)
