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It's crazy how easy it is to overlook the fact that you can kill slugs with salt... Instead of putting arsenic in a population center's water supply and accidentally causing a chain reaction of explosions to destroy half the town.

Very fun, poorly acted and gloopily made slime fest featuring two 19802 gentlemen that I struggled to tell apart; one who wore leather jacket, beige combats and penny-loafers and one who wanted to get naked and do "crazy" stuff with his Eastern European wife.

I especially enjoyed slug-salad man at meeting with fat bespectacled man with sumptuously kissable lips who exploded viscerally at an Italian Bistro. Mamma mia!

Thanks slugs... Thlugs.

Sean P Donahue is a studly chudly beefcake who kicks his way through a horde of moustaches to wreak vengeance upon his family's murderers.

He sets a guy on fire, monorails one to death, and mallets another in the temples. It's enough to set your upper lip bristles a'quivering...

But seriously, the moustaches in this are awe inspiring, it makes me wish the movie was filmed in stereoscopic 3D so I could see those magnificent beasts hove into view like bewhiskered behemoths looming out of the miasmic fog.

Now these are real men... Real men in real tight jeans, who can kick... My God, what happened to the world?

Weird surreal comedy from the 80s.

My favourite moment was when Lane let the ducks out of his car and said "See ya later" as they waddled away.

This gang of gnarly slope shredders head up to fucksticks baked Alaska to chill with Chad Chuddington, rip some powder and hang tight with the bros and their babes.

Except Chad's been decapitated by an unsavoury heinous narc who's hell bent on harshing their buzz.

Radical.

Watched on Sunday June 1, 2025.

Watched on Saturday May 31, 2025.

Their burping is probably retarding the reaction

- Science Guy

It's your standard "hunting the most dangerous game... Man", very similar to Avenging Force although unfortunately there was no trident wielding bloke in a bondage gear in this.

JCVD does however do many flips, many many flips.

Lance Henrikson is a pretty great villain and his henchmen who happens to be a jarringly South African douchebag is deliciously twisted. I was just expecting him to breathe a swarm of flesh-flaying pestilence into somebody's face the whole time.

Action is good, lots of slow motion, many weird edits... Good fun. It just suffers from an extraordinary basic plot with minimal characterization which could have been done in all the time this movie was running at half speed.

Tally is so fucking ugly, they call her squint due to her completely normal eyes. She loves this guy called Nose because he has a totally normal nose.

They dream about the eleganza extravaganza going on across the river where the hot opulent dum-dums party all day.

Nose gets his birthday glow-up and becomes utterly sickening. Tally wants to meet up and spill the tea, but she's gagged when he ghosts her. Unfortunately, it also makes him smooth-brained and he sashays away.

Tally ain't got time for that so she learns how to CGI snowboard with someone called Skinny due to their average build... all the CGI is wank in this movie.

Dr Cable, leader of the smooth-brains (and all-round shady bitch) captures Tally for partying above her station, and tells her to scuffle in the dirt with the basic bitches for a while.

Tally goes to the obligatory outcast freedom-fighter shantytown where everyone is hot and wears iconique fabulous-knitwear.

The party animals from party city arrive and fuck everything up, Skinny gets caught... and now she's serving smooth-brain eleganza... and Nose falls off a bridge. Tally gets put in a gas chamber but her peasant friends free her through cunning use of a helicopter mounted flamethrower...

The whole thing is absolutely fucked. A dazzling showcase of ineptitude.

This is the most, boomer-ass, hoo-rah America, dipshit CGI chudfest movie in existence... and hilariously and strangely artfully themed around a kid's toy.

Sure, I was drunk... and sure, it's totally brain-broken... but Rihanna isn't even that bad in this. And you know what, I had a pretty great time.

Now I do have to ask myself, maybe it's because AC/DC is playing, and there are god damn WW2 veterans firing two-thousand pound explosive artillery shells at titanic generic feaux-transformer alien dudes while a vet amputee has a tustle with an alien with a Fred-Durstian space-goatee... sure, maybe I've been tricked into having a good time.

Maybe I'm the real dumb-ass in all this...

Maybe this is just pure class.

I don't think Liam Neeson would give me his blessing to bang his daughter if he knew i'd watched & enjoyed this film.

God bless Liam Neeson.

Succefully disturbing and unsettling. It does an excellent job of placing you in its bleak realm of woodland ritualism, folklore and pestilence where we're constantly reminded of the cold darkness of mortality.

Artfully atmospheric, if a little self indulgent. It's certainly got the "Robert Eggers" vibe.

Let me tell you about the baron. He's a big beefy boy with a massive sword who vanquishes the demonic hordes with a proclamation of zeal and finishes up with a vitriolic monologue.

Set in a world of grimy steampunk spacemen with bonkers turbo-religious ideology and satanic rituals with zombie-clowns and space-camels who fly brass space-airships and use rotary-videophones to zoom each other... Oh God my brain is overheating.

This movie is so packed with beautifully cruddy miniatures, goofy props, wonky aliens, muscle suits, laser guns, hover bikes, demon births, buckets of red paint, ejaculate and afterbirth... It's a low budget beast from 2006 that displays an unbelievable degree of effort and love from it's makers. And it's full-on non stop insanity... Until it forgets it should have ended and becomes hilariously saccharine for about fifteen minutes at the end.

The bit where the Baron crawls into the demonic uterus to find a big-titted bug-eyed little guy who called him daddy... It had me unable to breathe...

It feels almost completely unknown. More people should seek out and enjoy this incredible piece of work.

*Clears throat*

Rutger Hauer is the man of the hour, hes blinded in Nam and learns an Asian power.

He's unable to cry, Cos he's fucked in the eye so he goes up a hill and kills a man in a tower.

*Takes solemn bow to sound of gong*

If Richard Dawkins had a murder-house and invited missionaries over to read them a psychotic rendition of "The God Delusion".

Hugh Grant's portrayal of a charmingly befuddled psychopath is quite enjoyable although this movie loses its footing on the path of coherence when it turns into an episode of supernatural Columbo.

I'm not a great fan of movies with hard-hitting narrative that force me to confront the worst aspects of human nature... I'm just a guy trying to get some escapism from the bleakness of modern life, I'm not likely to give "15 years a slave" or "Schindler's List" a go for fear of conjuring dark clouds over my already precariously overcast mental skyline.

This is where Sinners truly shines. While I went into this expecting some kind of "Dusk till Dawn" situation, I was pleased to find a genuine and lovingly crafted fable about oppression, pain, hope, faith, superstition and culture... With a side serving of vampires.

While it has surreal moments, almost comedic uneasiness and a touch of violent catharsis, everything is conveyed artfully and blended with a swampy slide-guitar soundtrack that ties the whole thing together into a cohesive mythology.

Bottom line, it's a great way for the disenclined monkey-brained masses (myself included) to be tricked into thinking about important stuff, which can't be a bad thing.

Bruce Willis a world class drill-guy leads a team of the most unprofessional astronauts in human history while he vigorously protects his daughter from being drilled by Ben Affleck.

On their first side-quest, our crew of bumbling man-children stop at a Russian space-station to refuel and within five minutes there is some kind of catastrophic disaster resulting in the total destruction of the station.

On another escapade, Steve Buscemi haphazardly fires a Gatling gun which is mounted on the space drill (because America) while screaming incoherently. Another character blames this on a bout of "Space Dementia".

I don't know how Mr "Aerosmith" Tyler burrowed himself so deeply into this movie (like a crusty rock-and-roll tick) but by the eighth Aerosmith song, I was wondering where they were going to use "Love in an Elevator" but unfortunately Aerosmith is not space-appropriate.

A-grade dipshittery.

I have cunningly concealed my review using an impenetrable code...

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I'm honestly quite worried that John Lithgow wants to f*ck my dog... I don't even have a dog.

Undoubtedly expensive, yet inexplicably cheap looking.

Filled with flim-flam and flippancy but too flabby by far, it out stays it's welcome and unfortunately by the time the villain's gloriously dorky robo-suit is revealed my tolerance was waning.

With that said, I do wish more movies were like this. With such a bewilderingly low IQ that it becomes impervious to ridicule or critique in any form.

Like everything, the Madonna theme is so out of place and awful that it comes full circle and becomes perfect.

Sigmund Freud... Analyze piss.

A weirdly fake-tanned & black hair-dyed Hayden Christiansen does comically little with his entire life whilst obsessing over putting figs & focaccia on pizzas.

Meanwhile his childhood crush is vaguely a chef in London but is home visiting and also seems oddly drawn to both pizza, and Hayden's giggle-berries.

Meanwhile there's a long standing family feud between the family patriarchs which we can only assume to be due to a case of unrequited gay love.

It's like one of those Hallmark romance movies, except it's full of weirdly sexual humour and insane Italian/Indian/Gay stereotyping.

Paul W S Anderson watched Priest (2011) and thought... I can do that, but I'll make it... orange.

All characters consistently act as though they have information that they clearly don't, or as though they lack information that later in the plot is revealed that they knew all along.

The action is largely pointless and doesn't serve any purpose other than to showcase the whimsical powers of Milla the girl-boss battle-nun.

When asked what mystical powers his wife would have in his movie, Paul simply answered: "Yes."

What's the point in hanging somebody who can levitate?

Everyone is horrendously miscast in this... And why is everyone so fucking old?

It feels like the actors were all selected by "Paul" the octopus who chooses FIFA world cup finalists.

Fuck that octopus because he got this one wrong!

Fuck you Paul.

Can somebody explain... Just what is Angelina Jolie's face all about?

This movie... It's shit, but kind of endearing for what it is... as in an early attempt at a videogame adaptation. And to be fair, I think they did a great job of adapting a playstation game about a woman with polygonal breasts and two guns into a feature length movie.

This movie was indeed, very videogame esque. And had a peak early-2000s sexy electronic soundtrack (Leftfield - Song of Life, i'm talking about you).

Lara doesn't have much of a character, or a backstory. She raids tombs, has a butler called Hilary, and presumably an infinite inheritance to squander on disposable death-bots and post-gunfight stately-home redecoration.

She doesn't need to explain how she knows the things she knows... clearly that swirly thing is a "time storm" what are you a peasant?

It was dumb, and comes from a time when I was also dumb... and for that reason, it elicited a degree of nostalgia so I gave it three stars.

A film that attempts to strike a delicate balance between boobs and cinema, but fails.

A team of hunky studs (and Erik Estrada) are accompanied by a bunch of humongously titted ladies as they courier a toy helicopter across the world where they use it to explode a couple of ninjas in a shed.

Along the way, the lads each peel away for a spicy deviation where boobs are fondled and hair is flicked in slo-mo while our cast grind against each other for minutes at a time, leaving the rest of the gang to have a cup of tea before returning to the plot.

Meanwhile Mr Miagi is coordinating pairs of increasingly incompetent hit-men to waste their lives in the name of entertainment while uncomfortably portraying the creepiest Asian grandpa.

I think there may have been literally two women in this movie who didn't get their tits out... I imagine Andy saw that as a missed opportunity, but he tried his best.

Did I mention the honkers in this are gigantic?

Boobs.

Watched on Saturday April 5, 2025.

Watched on Thursday April 3, 2025.

This is quite likely the lowest ebb in Peter Sellers' career? *insert gong sound here*

Maggie Smith does a good job at sounding aroused by the prospect of necrophilia.

It's one of those movies that appears to have been buried due to the collective shame of it's s, we call this "a Krippendorf". The kind of movie that gets buried in the desert and encased in concrete, only to be unearthed by an alien civilization three million years in the future to be ground up and snorted like spice melange... Except instead of visions of the future, they see visions of the 70s, the brown moldy-ass 70s.

Watched on Friday March 28, 2025.