Dark Star (1974)

After seeing Idle Hands, I never thought that this sentence would erupt from my mouth, but I think that Dark Star wins the award for most ridiculous stoner film/comedy ever! It's a heaping mound of absurdity, tied up with terrible effects, 70's hair, and the most apathetic actors I've ever seen. Clearly a masterpiece, this melancholic movie was written and directed by none other than the legendary John Carpenter (while he was in film school no less) and Dan O'Bannon (of Alien fame; in fact, the legendary "beach ball alien," who was launched to stardom after his 15 minutes of feature film fame in this piece of serious yet silly sci-fi cinema, actually served as the inspiration for the Alien movies = crazy!), and that is certainly saying something. The whole thing is the perfect picture of dark comedy with a riotous plotline of 4 dudes hanging out in space for 20+ years blowing up unstable planets; they slurp out of packages, they listen to interminable elevator music announced by a gorgeous and invisible female, and they're pretty much just totally insane. One character spends every minute up in a glass dome staring at the infinite abyss and mumbling about some mystical Phoenix Asteroids, which apparently not only exist, but are also prepared to whisk said loony off into their midst to travel the length of The Universe and contemplate on the glittering mysteries of life. A different dude actually surfs into a hostile atmosphere, and to his death, on a piece of exploded space ship after having a clearly convincing conversation with an elusively eloquent bomb about phenomenology. And one guy isn't even supposed to be there! Add in a dead commanding officer that can still chat it up in his frozen state, a sense of cabin fever that promotes playing with lasers and a prominently phenomenal scene that involves an organ/xylophone made of plastic containers and water, given due respect by the original electronic music composed by Carpenter himself, and you just may have the most awesome movie I've seen in a while. And so surprising! It came out before Star Wars for one and this undeniably gives a greater sense of appreciation for both films (the use of computer graphics in Dark Star is an accomplishment and awful at the same time [I felt like I was watching an Aqua Teen Hunger Force episode the whole time!]; the music fares better in my opinion). And apparently it's confusing for the more modern, drug-free mind, because the VHS cover describes it as a "space parody" and "the ultimate cosmic comedy!," which I don't think give this juicy jewel justice. So what if their costumes are made of packing foam and muffin trays! All in all, I was unprepared for the movie magic that would unfold before me. It's so refreshing to see a concept creation instead of something more materialist! Hooray for free-thinking!

Final judgement: "Bring on the packing tape!: A gorgeously grim look at space travel, the future, hell and heaven all in one; with obvious Strangelove and "No Exit" overtones and a touch of all things glorious: Philip K Dick and Ray Bradbury!"

For an awesome site on atomic rockets....

The Road to Wellville (1994)

Man, this movie is awwwkwward. Seriously. First of all, it's awkward that it had such an amazing cast (Matthew Broderick, Anthony Hopkins, Bridget Fonda, John Cusack and Dana Carvey) and crew (directed by Alan Parker who has also graced the world with Evita, Midnight Express, and Pink Floyd the Wall) and yet did so terribly in the box office (only $6.5 million! what, did they even let it into the theaters? oh wait....). It's also awkward because of its subject matter (albeit based on a true story), a matter which inevitably led to its panning by critics: shit, sex and cereal. If two of those three things don't sincerealy interest you, this may not be the movie for you. I have never heard so many references to scat nor seen so many pasty old man asses in my life. The same goes for the enema talk, testicle electrocution, sex with green people, and, of course, womb massages. All of these things and more (like cereal!) can be found in great abundance. There are also several pairs of tits [including some massive floaters from that "Practice" chick!]; clearly they were not going for general public acceptance. And you have to give them credit, right? I mean, how often does the movie industry take on a subject that absolutely no one wants to talk about (that being the health movement at the turn of the century [led by Mr. Kellogg himself] where sex, meat and masturbation were considered evil [man, the "proof" they show in this flick is outrageous] and 5 enemas a day was merely "satisfactory.")? Well, if this was some sort of tricky plan to collect money from vegetarians, fecal-philiacs or Cusack stalkers, they should have done their monetary research, because this one is a box office stinker! On the other hand, I find it genuinely hysterical. Everything from the boy-child rebellion to the absolutely taboo meaningless gratification (among other things). Also, Anthony Hopkins is so good, it's the stuff nightmares are made of! See below for a host of delightfully disgusting (and often defecation related) lines from the film. And, be sure to enjoy the oh-so-sanitary trailer.

I deem it: "Outrageously absurd and sure to make even your most raging hippie friends uncomfortable!/i.e. Sex and scat, my favorite combination!

Dr. John Harvey Kellogg: An erection is a flagpole on your grave.

Interviewer: Sir, how often should one evacuate one's bowels?
Dr. John Harvey Kellogg: One should never, ever, interrupt one's desire to defecate. I have inquired at the Bronx and London Zoos as to the daily bowel evacuations of primates. It is not once, twice, or three times, sir, but four. At the end of an average day, their cages are filled with a veritable mountain of natural health.

Charles Ossining: With friends like you, who needs enemas?

Dr. John Harvey Kellogg: My own stools, Sir, are gigantic and have no more odor than a hot biscuit.

William Lightbody: You were masturbating!
Dr. Lionel Badger: I was not! I was massaging my colon!
William Lightbody: Massaging your colon! I know where the colon is and it doesn't stick up in the air!

Eleanor Lightbody: I wanted to be more than a hole in the mattress that answers to a name.

---

William Lightbody: Oh, no, no, I can't eat fifteen gallons of yoghurt.
Dr. John Harvey Kellogg: Oh, it's not going in that end, Mr. Lightbody.

Uncomfortable yet?
I found some of these still frames on a site called "bearotic" with the tag "chubby_fur." Gross!

Fast and the Furious (2001)

"He's got nitrous oxide in his blood and a gas tank for a brain."
Yep, that's about the most clever and sophisticated thing that anybody says in this movie (people posted a whole bunch of quotes, but they're all so awful! who thinks that this worth repeating?!). But how can you care about stuff like that when there are shiny, yellow and purple cars, along with more slutty cleavage than you even thought possible, and a giant Vin Diesel grunting out orders and flexing his muscles in your face. Oh Vin. He's definitely more awesome than The Rock. Is it because his face looks like it's been smashed with a chair a few times as opposed to being pretty and gay-face with plucked eyebrows? Or the fact that his idea of hairless and greasy doesn't mean he has to be grappling with other men for attention? Or even just the fact that Dwayne Johnson looks like someone who could babysit your kids while Vin Diesel looks like he's the one selling them pot and illegal car parts on the corner? Maybe. Just maybe. Either way, whoever thought of this movie (ahh. Ken Li wrote a magazine article that inspired the film; no wonder the dialogue is thin! and the screenplay is by Gary Scott Thomas, the glory behind Split Second and other unforgettable triumphs of the human spirit!) is an absolute genius. It's like they said, "people only go to the movies to see car chases, so why don't we just wipe out the middleman (character development, realism and any form of worthwhile dialogue) and give them what they want?!" Well, it worked. The car chases are absolutely amazing. The explosions are bomb (pun definitely intended), and there was never any chance that 2 Fast 2 Furious could replicate the glory of this feature film without they grimy yet loveable Vin Diesel (oh god, I hope the fourth one is worth it!). I mean, I'm pretty sure that in the future, we will look back to 2001 and think about how history has been made. There are over 15k sound effects in the first race scene alone! And they got real racers (over 1500 cars) to show up at the Race Wars. Man, car chases are so totally tubular. This is just totally the most vapid (it's all those pretty boys! Michelle Rodriguez seems like she could eat them alive for a good reason!) and yet totally awesome movie I may ever see, and I revel in that. So do all the other loser young adults out there I guess, because this movie made back its $40 million budget its first weekend in theaters; in fact, it went on to gross over $200 million worldwide. Not a bad haul. Rob Cohen, you should be given some sort of award for success and brilliance, no doubt a relic of your Haaarvard Education. Indeed, your fascination with dragons (Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story and Dragonheart) as well as a hairless Vin (see above and xXx), are things that I, for one, can truly appreciate. Keep at it tiger. And what's with the morals here? Drag-racing is so cool, even attractive cops will go against the law (stealing and lying and letting criminals escape? can we just blame it on the terrorific Ja Rule soundtrack?)? Dayum.

I deem it: "Suicidal encouragment for an attention deficited and I-don't-believe-in-consequences generation/A perfect encapsulation of life in early 21st century Los Angeles (we breed the Escapes under our very noses!).

The Rundown (2003)

Ah The Rock, you greasy piece of monstrous man-meat. I don't know why I hold a special place in my heart (and my dresser) for you. It could be your smooth, hairless skin or your perfectly trimmed eyebrows which can seemingly move mountains, or any other host of unnaturally large and smooth features. But here you are, gracing another movie that somehow deemed you a large enough star to cast as the protagonist. But then again, with the disgustingly devious WWF advertisements in the credits, it seems a little obvious the kind of audience they were (literally) banking on. Some are wont to assert that The Rock is the next generation Arnold (just because he makes an unintentional cameo in the film.....) and Vin Diesel is the next Jean Claude, a bold claim for sure. I personally would assert that The Rock is the poor man's Vin, to which Spencer promptly replies "Vin is already the poor man's Vin Diesel," a statement that I'm still attempting to decode. Whatever the case, I was genuinely amused by the B-list nature of this action-comedy. A scruffy pair, Glover and Gibson-esque for sure, The Rock and that other dude make an almost genuinely hysterical team. The comedy is a little frat boy inspired (why are there monkeys humping his face??!! [Spencer professionally describes this as "scatalogical humor."]) to be sure, but the Capoeira-styled, swinging-from-the-trees, totally awesome, hand-to-hand combat scene makes up for any previous grievances. Indeed, the action scenes are handled quite nicely; I remain interested and entertained; The sequences are non-repetitive and classic yet set in an exotic locale to create some jungular juxtaposition. The Rock's cousin, his stunt double, even won some award for doing this awesome stunt where he throws himself down a mountainside and he ended up breaking his ankle, but with the award, it was all cool. And the ever sprightly Christopher Walken, with his high-waisted khakis and ridiculous panama hat, makes a sinister old-white-dude-using-natives-for-slaves villian, a bad guy that (almost) everyone can get on board to hate. The Rock, in turn, plays the most unlikely character of a dude who wants to be a cook and is instead forced to bring people in for his loan shark whose thumb he's under (yeah, he's always writing down cooking information [p-o-r-c-i-n-i] like some sort of bodyguard savant); William Scott, a college drop-out, seen-too-many-Indiana-movies (the poster certainly does its best to evoke such images; hey if Shia Ladouche can do it [ie associate himself with the franchise], who can't?), wanna-be archaeologist who actually finds something but is unfortunate enough to be the son of said loan shark. And finally, Rosario Dawson, who would probably be in anything (Gods, Clerks II was unfortunate), and here plays some sort of hot rebel fighting for justice in Portuguese with an automatic weapon. Nice. It's mostly a sausage fest though (not surprising considering the audience previously discussed), an unfortunate fact. Disregard that and all in all, I was pleasantly entertained. Not everyone else was, as the movie barely made back half of its $85 million budget in theaters (Why would anyone cast The Rock as the main character in an $85 million dollar movie? [The Scorpion King was only $60, but I guess since it made it back, they thought they could try a bigger investment = mistake!]). The biggest mistake, far and away, was The Rock trying to make the name transition to Dwayne Johnson like he's a serious actor and now he does kiddie movies. Stick to explosions and grappling men!

Final Judgment: "A movie worth watching precisely because someone forgot to take their steroids this morning/A safe standard that revives the B-list days of Indy and Lethal Weapon.

Deep Impact (1998)

I have a special place in my heart for natural disaster movies; after all, it's always nice to remember who's really in charge. This movie, however, was just a little too realistic and definitely too disastrous. There was no triumphant moment of glory and success, just a pile of bodies! Seriously, they killed off almost everybody (Robert Duvall and Tea Leoni to start) except for Elijah Wood and Leelee Sobieski (again?) as some weirdo married 16-year-olds and her little baby sister who they now have to raise in, like, the wilderness of Tennessee. So there are tons of creepily realistic things (there were ex-NASA personnel in the movie, the car crash was based on a real astronomer's life, NASA and the director of this film both came up with the term "Deep Impact" simultaneously, a "large object" did in fact strike off the east coast where the one in the movie is shown to impact and kill millions of poor poor Americans, and the scene where Tea meets the President is filmed in the actual kitchen where Senator Kennedy was assassinated) going down. To make the movie even more sinister, imdb says that television showings were edited after 9/11 to take out the scene post-tidal wave where the tops of the Twin Towers are the only things not submerged. Why did they want to take that out? It seems too weird to me! On the other hand, there are also tons of absolutely ridiculous things happening in this melancholy movie. ie. How does no one notice the comet? Why does Morgan Freeman wait for a year to tell the people that a comet is coming but not for another year? Why does no one strike? How could they think anyone would buy a black President (oh wait!)? Why are they putting up with martial law and Robocop-esque, on-the-spot, executions? How does that kid manage to get from inland States to DC and back to Tennessee in like 12 hours on a motorbike? If children can get married, why can't gay people? How do they outrun the tidal wave? How are they going to survive in the aftermath? And why does Freeman seem so calm the whole time? These are just some of the 10 million questions I'm currently experiencing. But it doesn't seem to have bothered anyone else, because this movie, awkwardly released just a few months before the bombastically-spazzy, change-cinema-as-we-know-it, Armageddon came out, grossed a cool $180 million worldwide. And that's not bad at all.

Final Judgement: "Why so gloomy daddy-o?/This one's for seriously serious (and potentially religious) mothers everywhere."

P.S. Can you guess which of these pictures are for the movie and which are from the NASA page?

Oh, and it's way too telling that I found a post about the movie on this creepy site...

In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale (2007)

Destined for cult status is the way of this frivolous yet flavorless film. I mean, it seems almost unreal that such a vigorously star-studded cast (were they in it for the money, or had they just not done their homework?) including: Burt Reynolds, Matthew Lillard, Jason Statham, Claire Forlani, Leelee Sobieski, Ron Perlman, Kristanna Loken (of Bloodrayne and T3 fame), Ray Liotta and John Rhys-Davies (Arturo!) could be so uninteresting. Bad dialogue, yes. But completely useless and unnecessary dialogue? I wasn't expecting that. If I had looked at the cover (or not been watching an "illegally" obtained copy), I may have noticed that, like Bloodrayne, this movie was directed by the clearly infamous Uwe Boll. Heralded as a sort of new-age Ed Wood, he is brutally bludgeoned by critics after the release of every one of his features, and this is certainly no exception. I actually think it's worse than Bloodrayne, primarily because it features dirty men fighting mutant beasts that look like deformed ninja turtles instead of pussy galore. It's just fight scene after fight scene after fight scene. Who even cares? I'm not rooting for any of the characters; I hope they all die! Why give Leelee and Arturo awesome magical powers if they're not even allowed to use them? What is with the tree people? Who let Lillard onto this set and let him drink himself into a stupor? Who in god's name thought that using recycled costumes from TMNT would ever look good? Why won't Spencer agree with me when I say that Ray Liotta is infinitely more ugly than Ron Perlman? And why oh why did anyone think this was the best use of their
money and/or brain-power? It's definitely enough to make you consider the possibility that he did this on purpose; that it's just too bad to not be intentional; that someone somewhere is laughing their ass off that we are even flirting with the idea that this was a serious venture.....right? It didn't make any money (but it could be a long term plan that has yet to come to fruition...) and Uwe Boll said he would never take on a big money picture again (because there aren't enough weirdos willing to pay for this debacle to make back the initial investment...right?), but it could still be joke. Don't be suprised by its delicately CGIed packaging. One commenter calls it "laughable tripe," and I think that about sums it up. This website is pretty laughable too. Even better, the Wikipedia article on the movie ends with the sentence: "Like most Uwe Boll movies, it is now included in many lists of the worst films of all time." Oh Uwe. Bound for destiny.

Final Judgment: "Trust me, it's all part of the plan/The biggest trick since Monica."

Black Knight (2001)

Ha. I thought this movie was highlarious! According to some of the comments I've read, I may be alone in my outrageous assessment. But I ask you: how can film with a premise built around sending Martin Lawrence back into the Middle Ages where he can proceed to embarrass himself, the studio, black people, and anyone who can speak the English language (I swear, half of that movie was just sputtering) while learning valuable life lessons about standing up for what you believe in and not having sex with someone with the lights off unless you're sure you know who it is, and stuff like that, not be totally and utterly balderdashidly hysterical? The answer is: it can't! The stereotypes abound in this classically ignorant misinterpretation of like ten million things. Epic lines such as:

"Jamal: Do you have a thong?
Victoria: Excuse me?
Jamal: Never mind. We'll just take an old pair of drawers and cut the ass out."
or:
"Man, I have a cousin who would wear a man hole round his neck if he could find a chain big enough"
and:
"Ask not what your fiefdom can do for you but what you can do for your fiefdom!"

are pretty much an exact summary of the absurdity of entertainment cinema in the 21st century United States, and I, for one, view it as a task worthy of praise. And you have to give credit to Lawrence, who, playing a character named Skywalker, managed to spend approximately half an hour (movie minutes) in the Medieval ages, including an audience with the King, before realizing that he was in fact, not in the NYC slums anymore (it was holding a human head that finally lead him to ask some questions [although, to be fair, everything did look pretty fake...]). His other accomplishments include a drive-through rabbit slaughter house, new wide-stitch track suits for the modern peasant and the reinvigoration of a fallen hero (not like that, sicko). With a $50 million budget and only a $33 million gross, the best thing about this movie?: the last 30 seconds when Lawrence gets catapulted back back into the past, only to run from danger like a teenage boy from showering, with a final, graceful freeze frame (always the symbol of high-class work), in a desperate attempt to set the scene for a never-gonna-happen sequel that could have potentially shoved some spare change in Lawrence's pocket after his Big Momma's House cash-cow stopped paying up. Oh wait, I remember the best part (the weirdo in me of course)! It's where Skywalker has to prove his dancing skills so he gets all these bizarre bards and heralds to belt out some bass lines on their buisines and everybody gets into this funk groove and dances around. Yeah for (almost) world music!

Final Judgment: "Who cares what you're laughing at as long as you're laughing?"

P.S. Too bad Martin Lawrence doesn't look as awesome as this dude!:

Dune Warriors (1990)

Whew. I feel good about this one. Judging by a complete lack of interverse knowledge on this shiner, I'm guessing that not many people have seen Dune Warriors recently. Granted, this was before the brief rekindling of David Carradine lust that graced the Kill Bill movies, so maybe this was fated for a dying martial arts genre. But wait, there are no martial arts in this movie (wuuuu)!! There's just about everything else you can think of, but no martial arts. Example given. This movie contains: swordfighting, machine guns, horses, a band of little people, grenades, a water war, naked women bathing each other (thank god for the Philippines!), sophisticated bows and arrows, a faux fortress, a sort of New-Age sensei theme (this one's thanks to Caradine of course [what is with the white pajamas and hippie jewelry?]), a couple of Jeeps, motorcycle jousting, jaunty Medieval tunes and the ever popular political uprising. One of the two comments on imdb suggests that this film is just a "chintzy and dull rip-off of Mad Max." Well, let me tell you, Mad Max is way way way better than this. And not just because this movie looks like it was made by some of my over-achieving high school friends back in the day (the "houses" barely look 3 dimensional. And why are all swords three inches thick and one solid color? None of the audio even matches up!). They are both set in post-apocalyptic United States (Dune Warriors claims 2040, California). But, I'm pretty sure Mad Max doesn't march to the tune of a fucking lute. None of these things mean that Dune Warriors is not worth watching. The nudity alone makes it worth it. Also, the sight of Carradine in some sort of loin cloth, open-shirted, pants suit at the end of the film, if it doesn't scar you terribly, has the potential to lift you to some bizarre state of enlightenment (that's what I'm feeling....right?). Trust me, I looked everywhere for that sacred screen shot, but to no avail. For some other screen shots, feel free to peruse this fine site. Oh, and I managed to find this awesome trailer that I highly suggest you watch. You can thank me later...


I deem it: "A 80's-turning-into-the-90's punk rawker Renassiance fair turned horribly, horribly wrong."

THIS JUST IN (okay, so it's a month and a half late...): Cirio Santiago, the beloved director of this very film, as well as many other bizarro sci-fi cult clips, is dead! But don't worry, he will live on in memory, as well as through the post-humous release of a new Michael Madsen pic called, in a bout of originality, Road Warriors. Ah, Cirio.

Split Second (1992)

Gary Scott Thompson, I salute you. With your long list of writing credits for bodaciously brilliant B-list movies (including Hollowman (2000), 2 Fast 2 Furious, Time Cop: Berlin Decision [is it sad that I own this?] and soon to be gracing us with its beautiful Diesel filled sweet jelly of a presence, Fast and the Furious (2009) .), you have no doubt inspired weird college kids the world over. Split Second can also be counted among your numerous accomplishments, my dear dear Thompson. Although, Rutger Hauer certainly deserves credit for making this movie watchable. Hauer's been in like ten million movies in his lifetime (including Sin City, Batman Begins and The Tenth Kingdom), and approximately half of them are super sketchy and totally terrifying (Minotaur, Dracula III: Legacy, Warrior Angels, Flying Virus, Jungle Juice....I could go on, but I'm starting to give myself chills). This is a proud addition to his host of low-budget cult (?) features. At a mere $7 million dollars, they managed to create a fine feature with an even finer feature creature, otherwise known as some sort of heart-eating rat-human mutant hybrid with ferocious fangs and cunty claws. On the other side of good and evil lies a disgruntled cop living solely off of coffee, ciggies and candy bars, who, along with his goody-two-shoes, occult specialist, Oxford educated partner turned totally bizarro batshit crazy the minute he sees the monster and then continually chants a mantra (WE NEED TO GET BIG FUCKING GUNS) until he has flash grenades and 50 lb automatic weapons in his hands, attempts to decimate this seemingly sentient being (I think they explain it by the monster getting a taste and wanting more...but then again he can draw symbols of Scorpio; was he a man before?; he was quite possibly a man before...Hauer's partner?; the one who's wife he was fucking [god damn Kim Cattrall with an awful hair style {but you totally get to see her titties! As well as some S&M style tatas for those of you into the freaky deaky stuff!}]?). And how do they go about justifying such a menacing mutant roaming the streets? Well, the year is a terrible 2008 and global warming has led to environment shifts, such as torrential rains and blackened skies, that have turned London in the future primordial ooze of disasterous and dastardly diseases. Hauer's attitude (as Stone) about the whole thing, as well as a general feel for the film, can be acquired from the following clip:

"Captain: Are you telling me there's something running around loose in the city, ripping out people's hearts and eating them so he can take their souls back to hell?
Dick Durkin: Looks that way.
Stone: Hallelujah."

As always, Hauer knows best.
Also featured is a soundtrack from Francis Haines (Night of the Living Dead) and an unused score from Wendy Carlos.

Final Judgment: "Halleleuh, Hauer's here to save the day!/He'll rip your heart out, make you pay!

Princess of Thieves (2001) (TV)

Whenever Spencer informs me that I'll spend my evening watching a movie alone, I purposely go for those few flicks that I know he doesn't really want to watch anyway in an attempt to set some sort of standard for optimal viewing over a long period of time. Anyloser, this is was the cozy choice for last night and I thought I would share what little I gleaned from this inspirational 88 minute feature. It didn't have to be only 88 minutes, that's for sure. If they had just left those 15 crucial seconds on the end of each scene instead of lopping them off like the head of some ill-fated small mammal, maybe it would have been longer. And more cohesive and professional for that matter. But no, they had to make it seem like a...dun dun dun....TV movie! There was no indication that this was TV movie when I slipped it in (mine was even a stupid demo tape with that rolling script that didn't manage to detract in the least from the constant parade of brown and green), and I don't even think the props or cinematography gave it away (they filmed everything on location at some retro Romanian castles and their surrounding grounds; that plus horses and lots of [more easily recognizable than traditional] forest colored robes pretty much set the scene). It was just that stupid scene lop. Damn you premature editor; go home to your sad sad wife! According to most of the comments I've read, people really liked this movie, although it may be for sadder reasons than naught. One D.C. dotty who has truly rampant reviewing experience (shitty straight to DVD movies such as Persuasion, Masterpiece Theater, and Mansfield Park) sums up perversely over-protective parents everywhere with her words of wisdom:

"For those of you worried about content, this is a very family-friendly movie: there is some mild romantic tension & a time when a woman dressed as a man ends up atop another man for a few seconds (clothes on, they were fighting), there is some killing/death (nothing too drastic or bloody shown) and there is mild violence as people fight. Beyond this, there is little to object to..."

Oh Regeny Ball, self-proclaimed period film aficionado, the lack of those things (especially a pedophilic glimpse of 16-year old Keira Knightley fanny [sad to say, she looks exactly the same 7 years later = creepy]) is exactly what I'm objecting to. More classless critics bombast this beauty for a complete and utter lack of historical accuracy. But tell me, why are people looking for historical accuracy watching movies at all, let alone non-boring Disney ones? Everyone knows that Pocahontas totally got fucked over and lions can't talk! One other thing. Why does Keira insist on being in all these fucking time pieces? I mean, yes, she has a great profile for giant hair and stodgy dresses, as well as a British accent, but...oh. I guess I pretty much answered that one myself. Despite all of the criticism...

I deem it: "A film to be watched when courting motivational movements, (tiny) girl power and historically blasphemous politics."