With Wit, Reviewed By Kimmo Mustonenen
For the critic of the film there is always the hope, “please Odin, let this be the one.
The great film of the year!”
Then the thoughts crawl into the reality space and think “at least be the one that entertains my brain and makes me think of the movie and not running with the screams out of the theater.”
Then the thoughts go to “please don’t let this movie be a fart in my mouth hole – I hope I put another bottle of Kossu in the freezer, just in case.”
Finally the thoughts are “Odin, if you end my life now at least the pain won’t last like that of “Transformers 3” – do I need sweet smoke from the dispensary to dull the horror ache and so I can also soothe my hurt with Cheetos?”
Crappy honest truth: 1st thoughts happen 2% of time, 2nd thoughts 10%, 3rd thoughts 65%, and 4th thoughts 23% (Intern – add up the numbers. I’m so high). The ratio is never to be betted on, yet I still take this paycheck.
I am a reviewer.
Today’s film? “The Words.”
Plot? Too much. But like a Ukrainian nesting doll in the backwards. And not interesting, but not so bad for a fart in the mouth hole (my new ratings system!).
We make start with the inside doll. An American soldier (Ben Barnes) who falls in love with a French barmaid (Nora Arnezeder) after one of the World Wars.
But this story is contained in doll #2 (number two – this is related to the fart) which is about Rory Jansen (Bradley Cooper – douche, but not like Shia) who writes a book that an award is put on, “The Window Tears.” Then another doll! The outside-est of the dolls.
This story is in the story of Clay Hammond (Dennis Quaid) and his book “The Words” (so clever!).
BUT, in the #2 fart doll, Rory didn’t the writing of the book! Holy shit! Here comes Jeremy Irons!
Rory is in the big trouble.
Go ahead and follow through on the spoiler reading. Then when the girlfriend makes you with eyes open watch this you can still sleep with your brain off.
Or think of the nakedness of Olivia Wilde that is not seen.
Whatever is for the floating of your boat.
For me, two thumbs just sitting like thumbs… thumbs staring at each other thinking “what the hell, thumb?”
Luckily for Kimmo, I found a Kossu flask in my jacket while this inside doll took up the screen. It was mostly full for 45 seconds, then mostly empty.
“The Words” was better for about 20 minutes.
Better yet? 3 hits of the sweet, sweet “Blue Dream” smoke.
With that, one more brain attack by “Transformers 3′ can be handled.
Kimmo Mustonenen – (Kimmo On Kino) – Behind The Proscenium
P.S. Finally, that little mariachi elf from “America’s Got Talent” is gone. My hatred for him burned like white hot steel inside the Finnish sun on fire. It defined my existence. Without the elf and the hate my life is nothing. Until “The Voice.” Christina has the big ones. Two of them. Kimmo like.