your hand if you thought the world wanted a remake of the Shelly
Winters disaster flick The Poseidon Adventure. Now, take
that same hand, cut it off at the wrist and shove it up your ass,
you dumbfuck. The one jackass who raised his hand--and you know
who you are--got the gears grinding in the monolithic, imagination-free
shit factory of Hollywood, and it cranked out Poseidon.
It's a completely soulless, pointless, moronic rehash of a movie
that was pretty fucking lame the first time around. Although,
the original did spawn the song "The Morning After", which is
very good at making people want to kick each other in the nuts.
is a great example of movies as commodities. It has no identity
or soul; manufactured as efficiently as a room deodorizer or paper
towels. It's dreadful, pointless, mindless horseshit. If the people
who made this turd could have made a fortune more easily selling
bogus dick-enlarging pills, they would have. Because they sure
as hell didn't make this for any reason other than to rip us off.
And believe me, those dick pills are bogus. Not a God damn one
of them does any good, although one kind made my uvula swell with
white pustules. That was sort of cool.
isn't lazy filmmaking, and it's not incompetence. It's just that
pricks like the people behind Poseidon should have government
jobs. They go about moviemaking the way a fat, bored DMV clerk
goes about issuing license plates: a lot of laboring over something
rote and mechanical, followed by hours and hours of self-congratulations
over achieving such mediocrity and a belief that nobody else can
do what they do. I swear to God, the cliche-heavy script was developed
by submitting check-marked forms, or by Scantron. Fill in bubble
A if a pretty girl screams until a man rescues her. Fill in bubble
B if an A-type macho guy sacrifices himself for the sake of others.
Fill in bubble C if the stereotypically gay guy speaks his lines
with a fey lilt. Hollywood spent $160 million on this movie, and
at least $150 million of that had to be for Number 2 pencils.
as in James Joyce's "The Dead," the story begins with a procession
of ensemble characters entering. "The Dead" handles its ensemble
with such elegance and grace that it's a model for introducing
several complex plots. Poseidon, of course, chose to go
another route. That is, by ignoring what works and instead using
The Love Boat as its template. In fact, Poseidon is
like the ultimate Love Boat episode: It has a stampede
of B-list actors like Kurt Russell, Richard Dreyfuss, Kevin Dillon
and The Real World's Jacinda Barrett on board for cheap
paychecks and the ego-gratification of nominally still being stars;
it has a luxurious cruise ship setting; each character has his
or her own cornball issue to resolve; and the captain is a clueless
tragedy strikes, most everyone dies a gruesome death, which only
happened in the Love Boat episodes of my dreams. Well,
all except that little minx Vicki. What I would have given to
be the shorts she lovingly stuffed her fat ass into each week.
Anyway, in Poseidon a rogue wave flips the boat over and
floods most of it. The only thing lovingly done in this movie
are the shots of corpses floating about. And holy shit, there
are are a lot of those shots. Maybe about 90 too many. In the
first act. And once the boat is upside down, you'll think you're
stuck in some sort of 80s MTV hell showing that fucking Lionel
Richie video on a loop.
Lucas (the poor-man's Matthew McConaughey) joins forces with Russell,
Barrett, Dreyfuss, Emmy Rossum and Jimmy Bennett (as the incredibly
whiny little kid who can't act his way out of a paper bag, but
did audition his way into a pile of shit). With Lucas leading,
they are willing to risk the well-being of everyone else in order
to make their way out of the ship. I wish I could tell you something
interesting about these people, but all I really know is that
the men were incredibly macho and brave, the girls screamed and
cried a lot, and the little boy got a rod shoved up his ass very
early on and never was able to dislodge it. Oh, and Lucas conveniently
had extremely detailed knowledge of cruise ship architecture because
he was once in the Navy. Yeah, right.
the camera panned past more and more dead people bobbing around,
I kept thinking some of them must have been more interesting than
the ones who survived. I mean, all the fancy-ass special effects
in the world mean zilch when the people saved by them are such
dull pricks. Once again, it appears that a screenwriter and director
were unable to create characters more interesting than they, with
their limited brains, are. Hooray! A band of yuppies survive and
return to society to drive SUVs, shop at outlet malls and eat
at Chili's! What in the world would we have done without these
deep and profound individuals? Let's all celebrate with an Awesome
escape and survival (oh, they do escape, I hope I didn't spoil
the surprise for anyone), becomes a tedious adventure in near-escapes,
convenient and improbable solutions, but almost no emotion or
genuine danger. The loss of life is sterile and the sadness of
thousands of people dying is forgotten in the celebration that
five assholes didn't. That sounds like Hollywood, all right.
effects really aren't so special. They're computer-generated,
the product of a lot of labor and technology, but in a case like
Poseidon just an imitation of reality. It takes far less
imagination, genius or inspiration than money to create tidal
waves, giant model boats and a shitload of flooding. It's not
like it takes a storyteller to make a digital wave, and do you
go to the movies to see storytelling or what computers will do
again those grassfuckers in Hollywood borrowed a ton of money
from us, the moviegoing public, to produce a massive, boring epic,
then ask us to pay it back at ten bucks a pop and congratulate
them for not even doing something new. I guess Director Wolfgang
Pterson wants us to feel as though we are practically right there.
To be fair, I did feel drenched afterward. Because I got hosed.
One Finger for the turd in a toilet disaster Poseidon.
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