Thursday, April 1, 2010
So, the ol’ Prof. has been ridin’ my ass for months now to provide a movie review for the Ray, but I’ve never been inspired enough to actually get off my ass and deliver the goods. Well, today divine inspiration struck in the form of
BOONDOCK SAINTS 2 – ALL SAINT’S DAY
Year: 2009 (although you would swear it was the late 90’s)
Runtime: 118 incredibly tedious minutes
Hey remember when you went to the local video store (because let’s be honest, no one saw Boondock Saints in the theater) and saw the box to Boondock Saints, which inevitably was rented out every single time you visited said store? You might have said “Wow, this movie must be great; it’s rented out all the time!” Or maybe your friends told you about the film, and talked it up like it was the cinematic equivalent of the second coming. Well, both yourself, and your friends were half right. The first Saints was a fun little action film, with a pretty big heart. I know the film has it’s detractors, but fuck ‘em. The movie was entertaining. But it was just one film. You craved more! So, you piled in the car, blasted to the mall, and bought up every last piece of Boondock Saints merchandise that Hot Topic could shove down your throat with it’s iron emo fist wrapped in black velvet. Maybe, just maybe if you showered Tony Duffy with enough adoration it would pay off! Well you got your Red Rider BB gun for Christmas, but the fucker went and blew your eye right out of your skull!
Boondock Saints 2 is without a doubt, the single most unnecessary, boring, overwrought, just plain dog-shit movie I’ve seen in a long time. If you have bought a copy, and for some reason haven’t watched it yet, pray to the almighty that you kept that god damned receipt. If not, just wing it through the Wal-Mart window where you bought it and just swallow your losses. If you’ve rented it, and are reading this before you pop it in, stop reading, gouge a groove in that bitch, go back to blockbuster and claim it was like that when you rented it. So, you may be asking yourself, “indrid, just what has got your panties in a bunch over this thing?” Well, dear readers let me tell you…
Our story begins in the land of Blarney and shamrocks where Conner and Murphy are livin’ the quiet lives and sporting beards so bushy (not to mention as fake as stripper’s tits) that they look like they are auditioning for the role of a declining Jim Morrison in the local pubs off Broadway production of A Lizard King. Quiet time with good ol’ Da is shattered when a priest bursts in and tells them that a copy cat killer is shootin’ up padres in Beantown and making the Saints look like prize winning dicks to their adoring fans, who no doubt are purchasing Boondock Saints shot glasses at the local HT. What do the boys do? Why take steamy showers in a barn, flex their wet asses, and give themselves haircuts that look so professional that they should be working in the local Lemon Tree instead of blowing away half-assed gangsters of course! Anyway, the boys head to Boston on the USS UFC where they witness preposterous no-holds barred fightin’ match between some huge dude and a hand cuffed guy (who the film will repeatedly remind you is Mexican with the same tenacity as a pit bull clamped to your nuts). Anyway, the boys team up with this guy, who has got to be the most over the top son of a bitch to ever grace the screen…that is until you take into account Julie Benz as special agent Eunice. Look, I don’t care what over rated piece of fly encrusted shit TV show she is currently stinking up the airwaves in this week, in this film she sucks harder than a two dollar whore trying to finance a Rolls Royce. Her southern accent would make the cast of Designing Women blush. She tries to act so fucking cool and slick, but just comes off as constipated. Her face looks like she is constantly sniffing shit, but is supposed to be sexy and rockin’. I hated every single frame of film she was in, and unfortunately she is in a lot of this “film”. Anyway, to make a long story short, people get shot, the Italians are trying to frame the Saints, Eunice and the cops are in cahoots to keep the Saints out of jail, the most annoying cop who is not funny ever, no matter how much the film tries to make you believe he is, dies..ooops spoiler….the old guy from Fraggle Rock returns to say fuck and ass, the Saints new partner is MEXICAN…bad techno music plays over all the action (like it’s 1999), shitty flashbacks reveal Poppa’s origins(who cares), a fat ass with supple man tits shits himself, the Saints new partner is MEXICAN, Peter Fonda is an unconvincing Italian, Judd Nelson is really starting to look like Victor French from Little House on the Prairie, Poppa dies…spoiler….Dafoe shows up for two seconds, the Saints new partner is MEXICAN. Does this sound disjointed? Well try 118 minutes of this bullshit.
Wrap up all warm and snug in your Boondock Saints hoodie, down a few shots of whiskey from your Boondock Saints shot glasses and cry yourself to sleep knowing that the legend of your favorite movie is now sullied by a terrible sequel. At least the Highlander fans will sympathize…