In which Jason Griffenhagen (of Death by Sexy , sharp dresser, and starlet) reviews (post-release) whatever movie was number 1 in the box office the previous weekend, and tells everyone why its fucking terrible. or good. This week we continue with:
Unfortunately, not a film about Michael Jordan stabbing people.
Greetings fearless movie goers! Since the American public decided to be incredibly savvy and choose Ghost Rider as the number one film AGAIN this week, I was forced to resort to seeing the second place movie: An incredible steaming turd of a film, starring Jim Carrey, Virginia Madsen, and directed by Joel Schumacher:Number 23
. And yes, I do have a sneaking suspicion that “An incredible steaming turd of a film!” – Jason Griffenhagen, brightestyoungthings.com will NOT be appearing on the movie poster. Too bad! Unlike Hollywood, I’m a BIG believer in truth in advertising.
Which is why I have to divulge a secret: Unlike other movie reviewers, who might actually go into films with no preconceived notions, I went into this movie pretty much knowing I would hate it. I think Jesus or Buddha or Xenu was mocking me, too, because a movie I actually WANT to see, The Last King of Scotland, happened to be playing in the next theatre. Alas, I had no one to blame but myself, seeing as I came up with the idea for this retarded column. I must be a masochist. At least, that’s what my mistress keeps making me say. Anyways, on to the film.
Much like Jim Carrey’s character in the film, The Number 23 made me want to kill myself, or at least someone else in my general vicinity. If you don’t know by now, this movie is all about Jim Carrey going crazy because all he can see everywhere is the number 23. You may be asking “What is this…23?” Lucky for us filmwatchers, Mr. Carrey poses that very question for us, VER-FUCKING-BATIM, to a Professor of Convenient Knowledge*, no less. PoCK’s answer is something to the effect that 2 divided by three is 666. OOOO…Spooky! Actually, Prof, two divided by three is point 666666 – repeated, which happens to round out to .667. And 667 is not the number of the beast, but the number of the breast. An appearance of which definitely would have made this movie a whole helluva lot better.
Mr. Carrey becomes obsessed with the #23 because of a book he reads, which is titled…well, if you can’t guess the title of the book, you are a huge retard and exactly the kind of person who went to see this movie on opening weekend. So I ain’t gonna tell ya. Although, I thought, “Sweet! Every great psycho movie needs the killer to have a Big Book O’ Crazy. They did it in Se7en. And that movie ruled!” Unfortunately Mr. Carrey wasn’t the author of this BB O’C. OR WAS HE? Oh….you’ll just have to watch it to find out! I bet all you guys love SUPER SECRET O. HENRY style twists! But, Gift of the Magi, this ain’t, kiddies. Inevitably, seeing the number 23 everywhere(along with a dog named Ned. Get it? N=14, E=5, D=4…14+5+4=23! Holy CRAP!) causes him to lose his mind, and Mr. Carrey’s terrible acting wasn’t exactly good for my mental health, either.
This leads to a discussion of the subject: Great Comics Playing Serious Roles. Whereas Adam Sandler is passable in Spanglish, Robin Williams is creepy in One Hour Photo, and Bill Murray is sublime in Lost In Translation, you kind of want Mr. Carrey to play “a crazy man” a little less “The Majestic’, and a little more “Fire Marshall Bill”. At least that would have been entertaining on some level. *sidenote* …I saw a trailer for a thriller called Mr. Brooks, in which Dane Cook gets to bust out his “I’m a serious actor” persona. Jesus Christ, shoot me now.
As for the reasons why this little gem of a film didn’t take over Ghost Rider for the number one slot, I can only speculate that if Mr. Schumacher put someone in be-nippled body armor, or if Miss Madsen once again showed her magnificent “talents”, they might have taken over Mr. Cage’s Flaming Motorcycle Extravaganza.
But really, we all know that its because Mr. Carrey didn’t pretend to talk out of his ass. Unfortunately, he just tried to act his way out of it.
NEXT WEEK: Wild Hogs, Zodiac, or Black Snake Moan?
My god, maybe I’ll get to review a movie I will actually enjoy. Knowing my luck, you’ll be reading about Wild Hogs. Til then…remember this: You keep paying to eat crap, they’ll keep serving it. Stay safe, kids.
*If anyone winds up seeing the film, and I pity you if you do, please email me at [email protected] and tell me what the guy teaches, and what in the world his relationship is to any of the other characters. Thanks, I appreciate it.