Once
upon a time, there was a Colossal Man. He was a lonely man because
there was no Colossal Woman, and whenever he tried to make love
to a regular-sized woman, he crushed her with his penis. One day,
the Colossal Man decided to pamper himself to get over the blues.
He treated himself to a lunch at a Furr's Cafeteria, where he ate
all the croutons, hush puppies and most of the fried chicken. Then
he went to the movies. The Colossal Man had a Colossal tummy ache
from all that cafeteria food. At the theater, he took a Colossal
dump.
He called it Die
Another Day.
What a truly
Colossal Man he must have been because this is truly Colossal shit.
Pierce Brosnan,
a man old enough to get 10% off at Wendy's, plays James Bond. After
infuriating a North Korean General by killing his corrupt son, the
aging spy is tossed into solitary confinement and tortured for 14
months. He is freed, finally, when traded for Zao (Rick Yune), a
villain with diamonds encrusted in his face. Brosnan wasn't traded
because the Limeys wanted him back; it's because they thought he
was giving away their secrets. Seeking revenge, Brosnan hunts Yune
down to Havana, where the snarling baddie is getting his DNA replaced
in order to change his appearance.
In Havana, Brosnan teams
up with Jinx (Halle Berry), a dimwitted American agent with tits
that fill a bathing suit better than beer fills a mug. For some
reason I can no longer remember, they stop chasing Yune and start
chasing the mincing, vaguely feminine diamond billionaire Gustav
Graves (Topy Stephens). Graves is an international hero, having
discovered a diamond mine in Iceland and given half the money to
charity. Interestingly, though, that these highly improbable Icelandic
diamonds have the “identical chemical composition” as
diamonds from Sierra Leone. Sierra Leone diamonds are embargoed
because of conflict in the region, so wouldn't it be interesting
if these so-called Icelandic diamonds actually are from Africa and
the Icelandic mine is just a front?
Well, no, it wouldn't
be interesting because that's as simplistic as one of my retard
Larry's prairie dog stories, not to mention unreasonably stupid.
Diamond smugglers all over the world are slapping their foreheads
and saying “Duh! A bogus Icelandic mine! Why didn't we think
of that? Nobody would ever, ever suspect it as a ruse!”
Anyway, as it turns out,
this Stephens character has a grander scheme than just smuggling
diamonds. See, he is actually the Korean General's son, thought
to be dead, and he is using the money to build a giant solar-powered
laser in outer space and will allow North Korea to invade South
Korea, then take over the world. He's been busy in the 14 months
since Brosnan was captured. He not only became a white Englishman,
he also built a fake Icelandic mine, was knighted by the Queen,
recruited the less pixieish members of the Sugarcubes to provide
security detail, built a space station, an ice palace and an untarnished
reputation in the world, He became familiar with everyone and apparently
was able to build lasting, lifelong friendships and a legendary
status as a fencer.
Brosnan and
Berry travel to Iceland, per Graves invitation, to catch him. It's
a good thing the villains always invite the heroes to their elaborate
lairs. Otherwise, those world domination plans would go off without
a hitch and we'd all be wearing Beatle boots and speaking Esperanto
already.
There's a shitload of
stuff going on in Die Another Day. Actually, way
too much shit. There is action piled on action like cousins at a
Alabama family reunion. A little of it has to do with the plot.
Some even is cool in that Bond way, like a demolition derby through
a crumbling ice palace that will remind any twelve-year old of the
Ice Pyramid level in “Diddy Kong Racing.” There are
sequences of stupefyingly bad CGI, like Brosnan snowboarding down
a falling glacier that looks worse than anything on a Playstation
2. And when there isn't interesting action, they have dumb explosions
and breaking glass, as though they got a good deal on stock footage
from old Kurt Russell movies.
Madonna taunts
us with the title song like an $8 whore exposing a string of festering
syphilis cankers. It contains such pretentious horseshit as her
muttering “Dr. Freud, Analyze this… analyze this.”
No, you stupid, overexposed hag, that's a different movie. Can someone
please tell me why she is famous when she's by all objective measures
a disgusting, pigeon-throated gutter slut? And why does she get
a cameo? Did the makers think the audience would be delighted to
see her? The bag had to marry Guy “One Trick” Ritchie
just to be in his bad movies.
Despite some
interesting scenes and Halle Berry's boobs, what made this movie
unbearable were three things: its 135-minute playing time. You can
walk out anywhere after the halfway point and you've already got
the gist. It's also tiresomely relentless. Rather than have an interesting
or involved plot to show how suave this Bond fellow is, the movie
just keeps throwing dumb action at him. Blow shit up, then blow
more shit up. Now let's break some glass. And when Brosnan speaks,
it's the sorts of double entendre that usually serve as the punchlines
of jokes in a Moose Lodge . This guy's suave? He'd get punched in
the mouth for being such an unoriginal pervert at the Tavern. You
need to come up with new ways of leching to survive there. Bond
might as well walk up to women and say “I've got a boner...
in my slacks.” Let's see if that line works for him any better
than it has for me.
I expect a little
goofy impossibility in a Bond movie. A little is corny and funny,
and gives it an edge, but it needs to be used sparingly and mixed
with some common sense to appear clever. Die Another Day
uses the entire damn corn cob. the gimmicks reeks of lazy plot contrivances
the way Madonna's career has the stench of the half-gnawed bones
of trends and people she used n her way up. Brosnan escapes British
custody and goes directly to his favorite hotel, where he checks
into the suite under his own name. Yet the British can't find him.
It takes Bond about 45 minutes longer than the audience to figure
out that Icelandic diamonds “chemically identical” to
Sierra Leone diamonds might actually be smuggled from Africa. And
the villain has bamboozled the world in only a few months with his
“Icelandic discovery” and his incredibly speedy aerospace
development program. Try as they might, British Intelligence can't
find any dirt on him: uh, how about that he didn't exist last year?
It's crap. Sure a loud
crap is more satisfying than a quiet one, but it still has only
one appropriate place: the sewers. Two Fingers
for Die Another Day.
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