Category: Kerry Condon

F1

By Marc S. Sanders

Miguel and I are the two unpaid movie critics who find ways to entertain ourselves beyond the IMAX picture on the screen.  By now, I know when Nicole Kidman is arriving and I start her off by saying out loud “We come to this place…”. Mig turns his head down in sarcastic annoyance.  We applaud at the return of Jaws in theaters this August.  There’s a rhythm we chemically thrive on.

Thirty minutes after a series of trailers plus an unwanted Allstate commercial (Thanks a lot AMC), the film begins, and the personal hand gestures begin.  Excuse me a moment.  I must pause for a moment.  (a-hem!) 

GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTERS!!!  

Now, where were we?  

Oh yes…

During the running time of Brad Pitt’s racing movie, F1, there were animated fist pumps (“Yeah!  Alright!!”).  There was rhythmic poking in and out of my right index finger jamming into my left thumb and forefinger (“Brad is about to get it on with Kate, the staple romantic interest, played by Kerrie Condon”).  A palm up facing twirl of the wrist (“Of course.” “Naturally!”). There’s the muted gasp pat on Miguel’s arm (“Is it?” “Could it be?” “Don’t tell me!” “Brad is fully recovered and walking through the steam cloud to pilot his race car?” “Again?”  “For one last time?”).  F1 covers all the expected beats.  

Frankly, I am not aware of too many racing films.  Days Of Thunder with Tom Cruise, of course.  Ron Howard did an engaging piece called Rush.  Ford Vs Ferrari works better as a bio than just a racing movie.  Pixar has its series of cute films. Still, just like the new Jurassic World picture, and I’m sure the latest Superman iteration arriving later this week, F1 is all too familiar like any kind of sports movie or Top Gun on the track Jerry Bruckheimer pic.

Tom Cruise—I mean Brad Pitt—is legendary stock car racer Sonny Hayes, a middle aged, washed up and broke recovering gambler desperately invited by his friend and former teammate Gabriel (Javier Bardem) to rescue his racing team from going belly up and leaving him hundreds of millions of dollars in debt.  Gabriel already has a cocky, promising driver named Joshua enlisted. He is performed very well with a lot of appeal by Damson Idris.  However, the young man does not have focus yet and lives for his social media likes and attention.  It’s up to Sonny to make the Formula One racing squad look like a contender while reigning in Joshua who can’t let go of personal conceit and a jealous animosity.

Kerry Condon is the engineering designer of Sonny and Joshua’s racing vehicles.  With each race, Kate trouble shoots what needs improvement and what can advance the drivers’ rankings.  Too bad she can’t fully invest her expertise as F1 demands she flirts with Sonny.  (Cue my right index finger while Miguel is ready to brush it away.)

The most impressive moments from Joseph Kosinski’s (Top Gun: Maverick) film are the racing scenes.  You are seeing both Pitt and Idris tucked within the snug cockpits of these low to the ground speedster machines.  The editing is superbly matched with the roaring sound and a pulsing soundtrack from another Hans Zimmer masterpiece.  

My one issue is the final cuts of the various races lacked overhead shots.  I would have liked to have seen moments from above where I could follow when the race cars pull in and out of a pit stop for example and stay on pace with unnamed competitors.  Kosinski gives an overabundance of close-up shots of the actors in the cars but not as much outside of the vehicles.  It’s all very exciting though, and when a film opens with revving engines playing in tandem with Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love, well you have me hooked.

F1 is like another exciting amusement park ride that you’ve experienced a hundred times before.  In between the races, while there are well drawn characters played by good actors, there’s ho hum filling material that keeps this speedy ride going about a half hour to forty-five minutes too long.  The guys have to argue.  They have to lose the race.  They each have to crash their cars.  They have to be tricked into getting along.  There also has to be a traitor among the ranks.  There has to be sequences of music overplaying a series of different races and the voiceover commentators chiming in with standard fare like “…and here comes Sonny Hayes from behind…” As well, Pitt and Condon have to get it on.  She has to tell him she doesn’t get romantically involved with racers before they hump each other’s brains out (Cue the index finger!).  

Sonny also has to be told he’s finished, before emerging from that humid, sunlit steam cloud where Joshua and the pit crew slowly raise their sunglasses and drop their jaws, upon his return. (Cue the muted gasp, followed by my twentieth fist pump.)

Look, F1 is entertaining.  It’s well made.  It’s got great action with impressive direction and an enthusiastic cast.  Still, I’m tired of this more of the same.  I alluded to my same feelings yesterday with Jurassic World: Rebirth.  It’s all the same flavor and these iterations are not daring enough to take big risks or surprises with what they offer.  Consider Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame.  Those films were expected to play by the same beats and yet there were some shocks to come through.  Look at what happened with The Empire Strikes Back.  Anyone see those surprises when first encountered?  The stakes were always surprisingly high, and the heroes were getting personally affected, not just episodically, but permanently.  

Blockbusters need not be so cookie cutter all of the time, but that’s exactly what is happening.  I already know the outcome of the upcoming Fantastic Four movie.  It could not be more apparent and unimaginative.  

I watched Companion which just hit HBO MAX earlier this month and in ninety minutes, that bloody delicious film diverts in so many different directions with a bare minimum setting and a small cast.  It’s as bloody as most thriller movies we’ve seen but an applied script turns on its axis over and over again.

On an IMAX screen, F1 especially delivers. Yet, while I’m absorbing well staged cuts of movie made racing footage, my mind is turning into comatose mush and the only thing that keeps it electrified is to acknowledge the standard beats.  

Declaring “Gentlemen, START YOUR ENGINES!” will not hold my attention for 200 laps.

Do it with me now:

Fist pump!

Finger fuck!

Muted gasp!

The Of Course!

Now you know the drill! Hit the gas!!! Turn up the volume and let Robert Plant remind you that You need coolin’/Baby I’m not foolin’

AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR

By Marc S. Sanders

Avengers: Infinity War is a really FAT movie. Like ORCA FAT (thank you Keyser Soze), because it is chock full of so much to see. If this equated to gorging on junk food, after two hours and forty minutes, I would have a diabetic cardiac arrest immediately following the credits. Is this a film that is worth that handicap, however? You bet it is.

There is an ensemble of top Hollywood talent portraying a huge cast of characters, once again, and thus another installment has surfaced in the franchise that allows them to have various moments to shine. Producer Kevin Feige with all of Disney’s support, has mastered the formula to ensemble casting and production, as good as when George Clooney and company performed under Steven Soderbergh’s direction in the Ocean’s 11 remake. Thousands of special effects shots do not overpower the stage presence of the actors. The Marvel movies succeed because a story is always written first. Then witty dialogue comes thereafter, and then valid, convincing shock value. The special effects are the final ingredient. This is what the Transformers franchise and (yes, I’ll even own up to it) the Star Wars prequel trilogy (about ¾ of it) failed to achieve. This successful formula gives merit to the (at the time) biggest opening weekend ever, worldwide, and Avengers: Infinity War deserves the accolades.

How good is it? Well, reflecting back to May 1980, when sitting in a crowded theatre watching the ending to The Empire Strikes Back, by comparison I think audiences have finally been served up a cliffhanger (10 years in the making) that is just as effective. How is this all going to wrap up from here? How is this all going to be resolved? Reader, I don’t know if the next chapter will be satisfying. I don’t know if we will feel cheated like Annie Wilkes from Stephen King’s Misery. Presently, however, I’m turning an ending like this over in my mind; the same way I did with my pals in 1980 debating the survival ratio of Han Solo and if Darth Vader has told the truth, and if that was Vader’s brain or head that I saw, and who is this “another” that Yoda referred to….and that, my friends, is what makes a spectacular film. I don’t care if it gets watered down in the hype and McDonald’s promotions and toys. If you can mull over a movie long after it has ended, for days, even months and years, then a film like The Empire Strikes Back and Avengers: Infinity War has more than served its purpose.

Josh Brolin provides a villain with a justification to his madness. He’s not just twirling his mustache to be mischievous and sinister. He has a destiny to fulfill, and his portrayal of the mad titan Thanos does not compromise. This is a beast of a purple villain with size 52 boots and gold-plated armor with a chin that looks like it was clawed by Wolverine. Thanos cries, actually cries, while committing his crimes. He’s not just cackling. He flat out says that he executes his actions all so that he can relax and retire. Isn’t that what we are all trying to do, anyway? Nothing wrong with that. Guy sounds like a CEO to a large corporation. Maybe Thanos is updated to resemble an Elon Musk. 

All of the other actors from main staple Robert Downey Jr to Chris Pratt to Chadwick Boseman to Zoe Saldana and Chris Hemsworth, and so on, remain consistent to what we’ve seen of various prior installments. Their gimmicks continue to avoid becoming stale. Audience applause is cued by their appearances. These are well loved characters.

As an avid comic book reader of the silver age (1980s), Avengers: Infinity War presents itself as of one those annual limited series runs that were special because they were MAIN EVENTS!!!! My favorite back then was Marvel’s Secret Wars. Typically, a comic book from the 1980s would average about 18-22 pages with advertisements sprinkled in. Nearly every scene in this film equates to one issue of a limited run of a main event. That is a why a fat movie like this succeeds. The cast of characters are separated in various story lines. The scenes are given their time to flesh out and develop to move the subplots and overall story along. Each scene is like reading a new 18 page issue comic book. If I’m watching a comic book film, by golly, I want to see how a comic book is brought to life in a cinematic medium. Marvel’s films succeed greatly over DC’s films (produced by Warner Bros) because they rely on the source material. They know they got the goods. Cast it right, adapt it properly and go with that. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. A wealth of material (nearly 70 years) and Marvel/Disney uses it all. (How does DC/Warner Bros miss the mark so often?)

Of all of the Avengers films, Infinity War is definitely the best one. Ironically, I wasn’t expecting it to be. I was waiting for this stuff to get old and tiring. It just hasn’t faltered yet. It hasn’t gotten lazy yet. It all seems so fresh still. It’s a fantastic cinematic accomplishment. Sure, its main story is a guy chasing down six different colorful MacGuffins. So what! It’s simple. It allows the characters to stand out from there. An organized plotline like this doesn’t take much effort or time to explain its purpose. It states its conflict early on, and then the show stopping moments present themselves. One after the other after the other until a monster of an ending that is so jaw dropping, head shaking, thrilling and gasping, satisfyingly arrives. 

More importantly, the MacGuffin search drives the motivations and fleshes out the film’s main character, Thanos. This Marvel installment belongs to Josh Brolin as Thanos. Everyone else serves as his antagonists. What matters is that the bad guy wins this time, just like demonstrating that an Empire will strike back. Ironic that Spider-Man makes a humorous correlation to that celebrated franchise from almost forty years ago.

Avengers: Infinity War ended up in my top 10 list of 2018, and still holds as the best film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN (Great Britain, 2022)

by Miguel E. Rodriguez

DIRECTOR: Martin McDonagh
CAST: Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Kerry Condon, Barry Keoghan
MY RATING: 9/10
ROTTEN TOMATOMETER: 96% Certified Fresh

PLOT: Two lifelong friends find themselves at an impasse when one abruptly ends their relationship, bringing unexpected consequences for them both.


Is The Banshees of Inisherin slow?  Yes.

Is The Banshees of Inisherin sad?  Yes.

Does the movie have a sad ending or a happy one?  Yes.

These are not normally the trademarks of a movie I rush out to see.  In fact, I didn’t see The Banshees of Inisherin at a movie theater for those very reasons.  I had heard that, yes, it is well-written and extraordinarily well-acted, but that it was a bit of a slog.  I had hoped Banshees would be another film like In Bruges, one of the finest dark comedies ever made, but that did not seem to be the case.  So, I stayed away.

Well, I have just finished watching it at home, and I can confirm the film’s slowness and unavoidable moments of sadness, but they are contrasted with unexpected comic beats.  (I was going to say “unintended,” but they were surely intentional, further confirming the ingenuity of the screenplay by director Martin McDonagh.)  I can also confirm that this is one of the most unpredictable stories I’ve ever seen, and I mean literally, like ever.  At first, I was comparing it to Melville’s short story “Bartleby, the Scrivener”, but that turned out to be woefully inadequate.  The Banshees of Inisherin does have the structure of a fine short story, but there its similarities to Melville ends.  I’m not sure if Banshees has a chance of winning the Oscar for Best Picture, but it’s certainly one of the strongest contenders for Best Original Screenplay.

Pádraic (Farrell) lives on the fictional island of Inisherin, off the Irish coast, in the early spring of 1923.  He is stunned one day to learn that his best friend, Colm (Gleeson), has abruptly decided to end their lifelong friendship, cold turkey.  Colm doesn’t want to talk to Pádraic for any reason whatsoever, nor does he give a reason, at least not initially.  When Pádraic persists in speaking to Colm, Colm gives him a warning: Every time he talks to or bothers Colm in any way from here on, Colm will cut off one of his own fingers and give it to Pádraic, until he stops or until Colm has no fingers left.

It was at this point that I sat up and started really paying attention.  I’ve lived long enough to know the specific kind of grief and consternation that occurs when a long-term friend abruptly cuts off all contact for reasons that are not at all clear.  So I felt Pádraic’s pain, I saw it in his face, when he realized how serious Colm was with his threat.  At that moment, I drew mental lines: Pádraic was the protagonist, and Colm was the antagonist.

Of course, Pádraic is the good guy.  He’s nice!  His adult sister, Siobhan (Kerry Condon), confirms it!  I mean, sure, he’s a little dull, and maybe not all that smart, and maybe he has a pet miniature donkey that he lets in the house when his sister isn’t looking, and he’s never heard of Mozart, but is that a crime?  Is that reason enough to end a friendship?  Pádraic doesn’t think so.  I didn’t think so!  Pádraic is so full of righteous anger that he confronts Colm.  Colm is dumbstruck.  Their conversation ends in a bit of an impasse.  And then, the next morning, as Siobhan prepares breakfast, they hear a thunk on the front door…aaand you’ll have to watch the movie for further plot developments.

(While I watched The Banshees of Inisherin, my girlfriend wondered if I was watching some kind of slapstick comedy with the volume of laughter coming from our movie room.  My explanation of why I was laughing, and what I was laughing at, didn’t quite translate.)

What is Banshees trying to say?  In my opinion, perhaps it’s this: you can’t go through life worrying about what other people think of you.  When Colm lays down the law, Pádraic should have just sucked it up and moved on with his life, right?  I was originally comparing their situation to something that might happen on social media, when someone expresses a very negative view of your post or opinion or whatever.  What do you do?  Latch onto it and let it gnaw away at you?  Post rebuttal after rebuttal until you change their mind?  (Spoiler alert: you won’t.)

As I said, that kind of thinking made Pádraic the good guy and Colm the bad guy.  But then Pádraic starts making some very bad, very DUMB decisions.  He starts listening to the advice of the closest thing they have to a village idiot, Dominic (Barry Keoghan), who suggests that Pádraic just needs a new approach: tough love.  At that point, if he’s dumb enough to take advice from a moron, whatever happens next is on him, right?  So now the balance changes.  Now Pádraic is the bad guy/dumbass and Colm is the good guy.  Just leave him alone, dude.

(For the record, Colm does explain his decision, which may shed some light on his own state of mind.  Depression?  Despair?  The screenplay offers clues, but nothing truly definitive.)

All through the film is Pádraic’s sister, Siobhan, who functions as the audience surrogate.  “You’re all f*****g boring!  With your piddling grievances over nothin’!”  She is as dumbfounded as we are at Colm’s stubbornness.  Not to mention at her brother’s foolish attempts to reconnect with someone who clearly doesn’t want to be bothered.  There are a couple of moments when it seems as if all is forgiven, but alas, it is not to be.  Siobhan’s solution to rid herself of their bickering is as simple as it is final.

When the credits rolled, I found myself wondering what kind of review this was going to be.  I liked the movie.  But it is slow and sad.  But its massive unpredictability sucked me in as inevitably as if I were watching Kill Bill or Interstellar.  That’s the key factor to The Banshees of Inisherin.  You may think you know what’s about to happen, but just try to guess exactly how the movie ends, and see how wrong you are.

THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN

By Marc S. Sanders

You ever hear of the modern term “ghosting?”  Normally, it applies to social media, like with Facebook, Instagram and every other brain cell sucker app we occupy ourselves with on our electronic devices.  It’s where suddenly, for no reason at all, a friend or acquaintance will stop speaking to you.  They will ignore your attempts to talk.  If they do talk to you, they simply will say stop talking to me and do not call me again. They will never share a reason for this new perspective they have for you.  They just want to continue with their lives without you being a part of it.  I have been ghosted on two separate occasions.  It hurts.  It really hurts, and I constantly must remind myself not to dwell on these people.  They don’t care.  They lack any further regard.  It’s just unbelievably puzzling when it happens.

With The Banshees Of Inisherin, director Martin McDonagh reunites Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson, who shared the screen together in the well received In Bruges, to portray these two former friends.  Farrell plays Padraic.  Gleeson is Colm.  The film takes place in 1923 on the fictional Irish coastal island of Inisherin.  Padraic strolls over to Colm’s house to walk with him to the pub for their daily 2pm pint together while they chat.  Upon arrival, Colm is seen sitting in his home, ignoring Padraic’s knocks on the door and window.  It’s odd and unexpected. 

When Padraic shows up at the pub alone and later Colm arrives, the other regulars ask Padraic if the two lifelong friends are “rowing.”  Not to Padraic’s knowledge.  Maybe this is an April’s Fools joke?!?!

Colm holds true to his new position.  He explains to Padraic, with no uncertain terms, that he no longer wants to speak with him.  Padraic makes attempts to open up to Colm hoping they can hash this out, but there is nothing penetrating Colm’s stance.

What lends to the sustenance of the near two-hour film is the setting that Padraic resides within.  An island in the middle of nowhere where he has no interests or hobbies or specialties for anything.  He really has only happily lived with his friendship with Colm, which is now suddenly yanked away from him.  He lives well with his sister, Siobhan (Kerry Condon), and his adoring miniature donkey, Jenny.  Siobhan truly loves her brother, but not Jenny or the other animals who reside on their property.  As the Irish Civil War is coming to a close, an educated Siobhan is ready to move on from the nothingness of Inisherin.  Padraic is not.  He’s lived so comfortably on the Irish coastal island his whole life.

Colin Farrell is an actor you want to embrace in this film.  As I’ve experienced something similar to what Padraic endures, I can relate to what stuns him at his sudden loss of friendship.  Padraic is a good man.  Colm knows this which is seemingly why extremes needs to be undertaken to stress exactly how Colm feels about Padraic going forward.  Colm cannot simply plead for Padraic to move on.  He first makes the request.  Later, he has to do something else to deliver his point.  When I say extremes are taken, you can not even imagine what occurs.  It’s shocking, but believable. 

Brendan Gleeson normally offers an intimidating presence on screen.  He falls into roles of men you’d likely only cautiously approach.  The same goes for his character of Colm here.  McDonagh wrote the character with no compromise. Only when a significant turn occurs, does Colm violate his feelings with how he regards his former friend.

Kerry Condon should get an Oscar nomination along with Gleeson and Farrell. Siobhan is both a loving sister but while she’s the younger sibling, she is also the more sensible.  As Siobhan, Condon’s timing for losing patience in the part is well paced.  Condon is awarded with some of the best dialogue in the script.  McDonagh could have written this film from the perspective of her role, rather than Padraic’s, and I bet it would still work thanks to what she lends to the piece.

Barry Keoghan plays a young regular around Inisherin named Dominic.  Kind of like a local idiot who is undeservedly abused by his policeman father.  Keoghan’s role is a side story, but he plays it so well.  Despite Siobhan’s protests, Padraic takes Dominic in.  He’s not meant to replace the void that Colm left in Padraic’s life but it further reminds you of the kindness of Farrell’s character.  It begs the question why someone would ultimately stop speaking with a good person like Padraic, at a given instant.

My wife was not interested in watching this film and asked me to give her a rundown of what happens from beginning to end.  When you describe The Banshees Of Inisherin out loud, you sound ridiculous even though you’ve appreciated some of the surprising moments you just watched.  I told my wife; you have to see it to understand.  I understand Padraic’s yearning for the friendship he once had.  I understand the measures he takes in response to the one thing he valued beyond his sister and his pet donkey.  When you live in a low populated island town with little stimulation beyond the people who have been a part of your entire life, to suddenly lose that is devastating.

Martin McDonagh has crafted an unusual script.  Often, break ups in films go the traditional route of the loving relationship going through a split.  If it’s a friendship, I’d argue I’ve seen it occur more often between two women.  McDonagh’s film acknowledges the impasse among two grown men.  His script could have been occupied only with dialogue constructed of standard duet scenes between two very strong actors.  Fortunately, he doesn’t just rely on that.  McDonagh stretches his imagination further to drive home the point of how these two men respond to this unfortunate outcome.  The actions they take are startling, but as I reflect on the script for the film, I cannot deny how alert McDonagh is with crafting the motives of his characters. At the very least, I’m empathetic for poor Padraic who struggles with the loss of a friend. 

To lose a friend is to lose a part of your soul. What can I say? I’m an overly sensitive guy.  It’s always been my Achille’s heel.  How do I survive, though? I think back to what my father once told me.  He said “Marc, if you have one friend in life, then you’re the luckiest guy in the world.”  Thankfully, I’m rich in many friendships.

Forgive my digression though.  It’s important to know The Banshees Of Inisherin is a very good and a very sound film.

THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

By Marc S. Sanders

From February 2017:

A number of years ago I read Roger Ebert’s review of a Kevin Spacey film called The Life Of David Gale, only after seeing the film myself. Reading his viewpoint assured me that perhaps I do recognize good and bad filmmaking with the absence of influence. Like me, he hated the film because of its contrivances and the complete 180 on Spacey’s character. He said it angered him so much that he wanted to throw his popcorn at the screen. Years later, I feel the same way, for nearly identical reasons after seeing this 2017 Best Picture nominee. I hate Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri.

I HATED THIS MOVIE. Hated it so much that I’m pissed over how much I hated it. This film is worthy of Best Picture, Actors and Screenplay nominations???? There was nothing better than this dreck???? Not Baby Driver, or Wonder Woman? Not All The Money In The World? Blade Runner 2049?

This film contains great talent trying way too hard to elevate the stupidity of the unjustified actions of their characters so much that suspension of disbelief isn’t just thrown out the window (like one hapless character who earns no justice), it’s burned, beaten, raped, shot, burned again, thrown off a building and drowned.

Consider midway thru the film, Sam Rockwell’s nominated performance as a vile, heinously racist backwoods lawman. He reads a letter and is magically transformed into a do gooder Boy Scout. There’s no way in hell I’d ever believe this. No one should. This guy is the entire KKK in one embodiment. By the time this bastard gets to this “epiphany” he had already committed the most sickening and atrociously violent actions fathomed, and in great detail. Yet magically a letter from a friend and an arson scene that burns him suddenly transform him. Just like that. Uh uh. Too convenient. Too manufactured. Too insulting to a movie going audience.

This film is full of other ridiculous contrivances that are simply too long and spoilery to describe here. (I’d love to spoil the film to salvage anyone from seeing this crap.)

Frances McDormand’s character is also despicably written. Here’s a character entitled to the anger she has after losing a daughter to rape and murder, worthy of attention due to the stubborn intellect she conveys during the act one exposition, yet as the film progresses, she becomes incredibly stupid and downright unlikable. What a thoughtless jerk she is. Nothing to cheer for. Nothing to love to hate. Nothing to laugh at. Nothing to cry over. Nothing. She’s just an asshole who conveniently gets away with her actions, yet everyone knows she’s the culprit.

In a film like this the bad cops are uncaring racists. The good ones are the clueless keystone cops who conveniently can’t see the forest through the trees. I don’t like it, and more importantly I don’t believe it. Unacceptable!!!

What a stupidly shitty movie that has been executed here in exchange for arguably the most interesting idea of all the 9 Best Picture nominees. I salute the idea of the film. It’s the execution that’s deplorable.

The only redemption that can come from this garbage now is if this film does not win one single Oscar. Sadly, I think I’ll be wrong. Congratulations Sam Rockwell, you stole a trophy from three much more entitled actors (Christopher Plummer, Richard Jenkins and I hear Willem Defoe.) Woody Harrelson’s performance in this pic is also up for grabs….for what? He coughs up blood quite well. I have no clue, otherwise.

Don’t believe the hype. Three Billboards… only has a great title, a great concept on paper and a great cast list. Beneath all that is carbon monoxide. Don’t breathe it in. You’ll only feel sick after watching it.

This will likely remain as one of the ten most despised movies I’ve ever seen.