Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Grindhouse?

I don't think I want to see this. They say it's 'fun'. I saw the last Rodriguez extravaganza (Sin City) and they said it was 'fun', but I thought it was just awful. An epic film devoted to the worst of 70's cinema would not be progress:
A vanity project of butt-numbing proportions (three hours and counting), Grindhouse deposits us in a fanboy fantasyland of fast cars, cocked weapons, weeping sores and erupting cleavage. Resurrecting the B-movie double feature, Rodriguez and Tarantino divide the labor to produce an uneven, hyperventilating whole high on its own audacity. First up is Rodriguez's Planet Terror, a deliriously revolting tale of an abandoned military base, biochemical experiments and pustule-covered zombies. Rose McGowan is a preteen's wet dream as an amputee go-go dancer ("I wanted to be a stand-up comedian") with a machine-gun prosthesis, while little Freddy Rodriguez from Six Feet Under mainlines testosterone to play her badass ex.

No comments:

Post a Comment