Appropriately enough for a film that's partly about the tedium of having to go to work and back every day, and about a man who keeps drifting off to sleep while he's there, this is liable to make you very drowsy. The synopsis in the marketing contains the intriguing hook that he's "coming down with a mysterious fever", but whoever wrote that ought to win awards for Furthest Reaching and Most Straws Clutched.
If you were to say that nothing…
Tsk, politics eh? Especially the politics of 16th century European monarchies, dramatisations of which tell us that who got to rule a country was primarily determined through unhappy arranged marriages, torrid sexual affairs, the murder of enemies, and minor differences between Christian denominations. It's complicated stuff, and a filmmaker needs to make sure that their trip into the olden days doesn't become a mess of warring factions with silly aristocratic titles, unclear motivations, and about a million different characters called…
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
The most disturbing image in this movie isn't the final shot, it's the fact that Meg seems genuinely into the idea of shagging that rancid old camp owner.
- "The whore with the big tits hanging down her knees?"
- "Maybe I'll choke the chicken, purge my snork all over those flappy ass tits."
- "I hope she likes cripples."
- "Bitch, I will crawl over there and I will skull fuck the shit out of you! Oh, fuck you. Sit on my pole right now, bitch."
For the avoidance of doubt, Robert "Zombie" Cummings was 41 years old when he wrote this film, and not 14 like you'd assume.
A stultifyingly artless, one-note, dull and overlong remake.
