Can you think of a successful movie that entertainingly lampooned the superhero genre? No, me neither. Let’s ridicule their continuing efforts, shall we?
In this movie that’s being released next summer, Will Smith plays a down-and-out superhero with a PR problem. When Will Smith does effects-driven action-comedies, we get gems like Wild Wild West and Men in Black II. He’s about as formulaic as they come in Hollywood, so this one’s guaranteed to be a pooper.
Smith will likely release a catchy rap single for the film’s soundtrack.
Ha, ha… just kidding. Whenever Will Smith writes a song for one of his movies, an innocent newborn baby cries over the state of America’s culture.
No, the good news is that in return for putting us through John Hancock, Will Smith is giving us I Am Legend.
Any Wayans brother in an entertainment context outside of In Living Color = unfunny affront to humanity. In fact, Blankman set the bar for many, many crap-ass Wayans-brothers “comedies” to follow.
Damon Wayans’ faltering movie career led him back to the small screen, blessing the world with the wonder that is My Wife and Kids. This sitcom–along with other mindless mediocrity in ABC’s lineup, like According to Jim–allows millions of stressed-out, preoccupied Americans to reach a Zen-like “empty mind” vegetative state in front of their televisions.
Television… the opiate of the masses.
1) It’s absolutely exhausting to spend 122 minutes anxiously anticipating a laugh that never comes. Unfortunately, all this purported-comedy earns is a series of sympathy chuckles.
2) Plot devices be-damned… it’s a superhero movie! We want to see you use your clever powers! More dining cutlery being thrown with ninja-like precision! More angry, flying bowling ball of doom! More invisibility! More beserker rages! And, yes, even more devastating fart bombs!
The cast. Oh, the cast. With a colorful crew that includes William H. Macy, Ben Stiller, Janeane Garofalo, Pee-wee Herman, Greg Kinnear, Tom Waits, Eddie Izzard, Geoffrey Rush, and Hank Azaria… you’ll agreeably sit through those 122 minutes out of courtesy.
My Super Ex-Girlfriend
Ivan Reitman’s shelf-life as a producer/director of comedies ended with Six Days Seven Nights in 1998. 2001’s Evolution put the nail in the coffin.
The scene in My Super Ex-Girlfriend where G-Girl throws an angry shark through a window into Matt Saunders’ apartment was about as outrageously entertaining as flies getting killed by a bug zapper.
Uma Thurman as a nymphomaniac dressed in various tight and skimpy costumes. That was enough for me to sit through this turd–twice–when it showed on HBO HD.
My Father the Hero
Gerard Depardieu’s only apparent heroic superpower in this movie is that he is able to produce daughter Katherine Heigl from his oafish, French loins. Otherwise, the costumes were bad (a swimsuit thong on 16-year-old Heigl… just wrong… well, except in France) and there were no super-villains, unless you count the young buck, “Ben,” who is trying to infiltrate Katherine’s super-thong.
This movie–in its creepy, French way–announced to the world: “World, you have something to look forward to in ten years, and her name is Katherine Heigl.”