GOATS, UNATTRACTIVE MEN, NEW AGE PSYCHO-BABBLE, LSD AND THE IRAQI WAR MAKE FOR A PATHETIC FILM WITH NO REDEEMING VALUE
I'M NO MOVIE critic, nor deep, intellectual elite thinker. I'm a small town girl at my core. As such, I can smell manure a mile away. So take what I think with a grain of salt. No doubt it says more about me than anything else.
Having said that, I went to a movie early this evening with a friend that has to be among THE WORST movies I've ever seen. This is going to be a short post because frankly it was so bad, so nothing, ridiculous, inane and lifeless that it doesn't deserve my time or attention. Except to warn you not to bother.
Rather than us paying Clooney et al to watch and endure this flabiness, I think we should have been paid to be utterly bored for two hours in the most ignominious way. Frankly, I'm embarrassed we sat through the whole thing. I kept thinking it would get better. But it only continued to go nowhere at zero-miles-an-hour.
It's called Men Who Look At Goats or Men Who Stare At Goats, something like that. Who cares. It's with George Clooney and Jeff Bridges. Were they stoned or drunk while writing and filming this? While I've never found Clooney particularly attractive, I always thought Bridges a great leading man. Until now. Clooney sank to new lows of appeal and Bridges shattered any last myth of my thinking him attractive in the first place. What a complete and utter slob!
I've never seen such unappealling men doing such unbecoming no-things. As far as I could tell there was no plot, no character development, no point, no resolution and no redeeming values, unless you had taken mind-altering drugs before going into the theater. There was not one character in this melange of nothingness that I mildly cared one hoot what happened to.
The only thing I can figure was Clooney got so bored drinking and motor-cycling his way through Europe with Brad Pitt such that he, Clooney, decided to entertain himself by making a movie and seeing how inane he could be with all his so-called sex appeal and still make a few bucks off his crazed and adoring fans towards his next house in Italy. Count me out from here on out.
This is liberal presumptuous Hollywood hokey---60s Boinged-out Berkley meets the Iraq War---and believe me, unless you're truly stuck in that sad by-gone era, which bores the stew out of me, then run for your life. Don't give Clooney et al the satisfaction of making a dime on this dismal ditch of black humored despair.
I ran over my word limit, but gosh I feel better.
On the other hand, this is one we both want to see soon. Know we'll walk away at least a little if not a lot more inspired: