Just total trash. Swirl. Junk. A comic-book gone haywire, a live-action cartoon-qua-video-game, Grand Theft Auto on crack. No, worse. I mean, you know Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez probably throw their mansions open for private screenings of shit like this. If you thought the first Crank was over-the-top, this raises - or lowers, I guess - the bar considerably, with gallons of fake blood, reams of blanks fired, a dozen ethnic and minority groups exploited for fun, dumb title gags and mis-en-scene smirks, a firefight in a strip club where a dancer's implants gush silicone, gross-outs galore, gratuitous T&A shots, a chrome-domed guero who looks like a lot like Jason Stratham shocking himself in ways too painful to think about because if he doesn't, he's toast. Again. Or something. Somehow less soulless than Smokin' Aces, though this won't top the resumes of anyone involved. Dwight Yoakam: "Will Doc Mills have to slap a bitch?" The republic is doomed. D
No comments:
Post a Comment