You may be wondering
why I'm reviewing a shitty movie that came out like eight weeks
ago. There's a good reason. No, make that a fucking great reason.
A hilarious story behind it full of sex, intrigue and quite
a bit of illegal activity. It's only available to subscribers
of Filthy Extreme, though. That's my new $200-a-year
premium subscription service. Filthy Extreme is also
where I put all my nude photos and the reviews without typos.
It's only available to cool people, so if you haven't heard
about it, it's probably because... you know. You can try Googling
it, but it only shows up in the secret Google for cool people.
Depending on who you are, you may not find it. If that's you,
all the explanation I can give you is that Cats and Dogs:
the Revenge of Kitty Galore was playing for $2.50 at the
second-run theater, and the proprietors let you sit in the kiddy
movies after you get kicked out of the R-rated ones.
Here's my review
for you uncool cheapskates: Cats and Dogs: The Revenge of
Kitty Galore is a fucking train wreck, and not two freight
trains full of TVs and milk crashing into each other. It's two
of those Indian commuter trains with thousands of people hanging
on the sides and roof, slamming into each other, disembodied
limbs and heads bouncing about like blood-spurting bingo balls.
It's getting your dick pierced in prison, by someone's teeth.
It's the armpit of a Juggalo after a two-week meth bender. It's
the nadir of moviemaking as art.
Cats and Dogs
2, the sequel nobody wanted, is a pile of horseshit about
how cats and dogs are secret agents and must band together to
stop a rogue cat that wants to blow up the world. It's supposed
to be a kids' movie chock-a-block with incredibly lame, tired
James Bond references. They are references adults have seen
a million times before and kids won't get because, unbeknownst
to the movie's makers, six-year-olds don't watch Bond flicks.
Piled on top like the cherry pit on a dogshit sundae is a very
long, unfunny Silence of the Lambs parody. I guess the
movie's target audience is unsupervised kids or the children
of drug addicts who are allowed to watch anything they want.
Hell, why not a porn parody, too?
Moviemaking should
always be art. It should always be done by people who have something
to say, a great idea of how to say it, and the passionate support
of the people helping put it together. Every fucking time. There
are enough people and there is enough passion for storytelling
in the world that the grassfuckers in Hollywood should never
hand the keys to the dream machine to the assholes who produce
crap like this.
I'm not calling Cats
and Dogs crap because it's poorly made or loaded with mistakes.
Although, it's about the sloppiest, worst script I've heard
this year, and a story loaded with bad animal CGI and third-rate
actors doing third-rate shitty acting. The reason I call it
crap is because I can't fathom a single person involved in its
production who gave a nun's left tit. Not from the indifferent
voice work turned in by Nick Nolte, Neil Patrick Harris, Kat
Williams and James Marsden. Not from the live actors like Chris
O'Donnell (no, he isn't dead) and a cringe-inducing slab of
gelatinous ham named Jack McBrayer who is trying to make his
living doing a community-theater version of a gay Jon Heder.
McBrayer performs like he's needs desperately to please some
inner demon that hates subtlety and humor.
For some of the people
involved Cats and Dogs 2 was an easy paycheck. Show up
for a couple of days, read a few lines in a silly voice and
then cash the check. For them, I guess, they either don't give
a rip about the quality of the product, or they assume they're
too fucking stupid to know if it'll be good or not. They just
take any job and figure some smarter person is working to make
it good. They are lazy cowards.
For others, this
is the only work they can get. Like O'Donnell playing a tough-guy
cop in a vintage Mustang. First of all, it's lame miscasting
to put a guy as milquetoast as this in such a stereotypical
tough-guy part. It smells more like the movie's budget limitations
than an effort to get the right actor. Second, it's a shitty
part in a shitty movie. There is no way O'Donnell, as starved
for work as he probably is, could have read the script and said,
"This is what I want to be remembered for. This is why I went
into acting." It takes backbone to turn down lousy movies, and
he apparently has none. Maybe hundreds of actors turned this
funeral pyre of a movie down, but the people in it did not.
They took it, because they fucking hate the audience. They couldn't
care less whether we get our money's worth or get a transcendent
experience. They just want their God damn paycheck.
I've railed against
indifference before, the way those pricks in L.A. take their
golden ticket to make movies and wipe their asses with it. I've
ranted about how the system is set up to let dumbasses with
no new ideas but a good sense of what will safely make money
are allowed to run the machine. It still boggles my mind, though.
I can't understand why we let assholes who hate us sell such
generic pablum. Movies could be wonderful. Movies could be magic.
They often are. There are people out there with the ability
to make that so. The cowards and assholes just need to move
out of the way and give them a chance.
One Finger
for Cats and Dogs: The Revenge of Kitty Galore. It's
a slap in the face by greedy assholes. And don't forget to sign
up for my new $200 a year subscription service, Filthy Extreme.
But only if you're cool.
Want
to tell Filthy Something?