You know those forwards you get from friends and family, the ones who still operate on dialup computers and rarely stray away from their AOL homepage for fear of stumbling upon Internet goblins who’ll eat their heart medication (because, like robots, Internet goblins eat old people’s medication for fuel)? They always preface them with, “I rarely do this, but this was just too funny not to share.” Predictably, they’re still about as funny as a punch to uvula on Flag Day (scientifically proven to be the day you’re least likely to expect a punch to the uvula).
However, every great once in a while, you’ll get a decent forward, but it’ll be something you’ve already seen 4,000 times, like the laughing baby or a parody of a parody of a parody of the Obama girl video. I have a friend, in fact, who just last week got around to forwarding the “I’m f*cking Matt Damon” video — that poor oxygen-starved simpleton had apparently just discovered the Internet and didn’t even know that Jimmy Kimmel had already moved on and began a sexual relationship with Ben Affleck (I can safely call him an oxygen-starved simpleton, bless his heart, because there are Internet goblins at the entryway to Pajiba waiting to eat his heart medication).
And that’s basically what the Movie franchise amounts too: Tired jokes your brain-dead cousin who works at Radio Shack would laugh at, or the occasionally funny moment that’s already been exhausted by repetition, like a cubicle germ who still sneezes lines from Swingers or Borat, infecting you with his TB-infected cough blood (see, e.g., the two obnoxious twits on this season’s “Top Chef,” who still speak in Boratian English and pump their fists like Seth Green in a goddamn Rally’s commercial).
So, I’m asking nicely: Stop it. Just fucking stop it. Don’t make anymore of these goddamn movies. None. The only thing left, anyway, is a motherfucking spoof of spoof movies, which would be like watching yourself look at yourself in a mirror, which would probably cause a flatulent rip in the space/time continuum, and we’d all be sucked into a wet fart that’d smell vaguely of Matthew McConaughey’s underarms and Perez Hilton’s swamp-ass.
This is how bad it’s gotten: It’s not even three of the five writers of Scary Movie anymore. It’s one of the eight guys who wrote Scary Movie 3, for fuck’s sake. Drink my shit-milkshake, pisswad. I’m begging you, Craig Mazin, you anus-brained fucknut. Quit it, or I will come to your house club you with a baby seal. They’re not funny, and the only people who think they are (the ones who, invariably, will hand Superhero Movie a $20 opening weekend) shouldn’t be allowed to breed — they should be rounded up, stuffed into the ass end of a donkey suit, and crammed — along with Tyler Perry and the cast of “Laguna Beach/The Hills” — into a crag in Amy Winehouse’s face and be spackled over with the fat of Dan Fogler’s left butt cheek.
The overarching parody in Superhero Movie is of Spiderman: Drake Bell (he of the Nickelodeon Show “Drake & Josh,” which is partially responsible for a generation that fawns over Miley Cyrus, the mutant offspring of one of our generation’s cast-offs) is Rick Riker, the storyline’s Peter Parker, who is bitten by a dragonfly after a DNA-scrambled zoo nearly humps him to death after it catches a whiff of some superpheremone Rick dumps on himself. Marion Ross (TV’s Mrs. C.) plays Dragonfly’s ass-breathing aunt, while Leslie Nielson plays Uncle Albert, who gets to perform an integrity-defying scene in which he fucks a dead woman in her coffin and then offers up a coupon for the cremation of his wife’s remains. The Dragonfly’s back story comes compliments of The Dark Knight, while his training comes via an X-Men spoof, starring Tracey Jordan as Professor Xavier and Pamela Anderson as Invisibitch. Shooter McGavin plays the movie’s Green Goblinesque supervillain, Hourglass, whose survival depends on literally sucking the life out of his victims, much like the experience of watching Superhero Movie.
Sadly, for a spoof movie, Craig Mazin has apparently only seen four superhero movies, and steals liberally from those, while throwing in a few Stephen Hawking voice gags, which are about as funny as terrorist plots. Meanwhile, the rest of the movie’s jokes mostly amount to cast members screaming out, “YouTube!” MySpace!” “Craigslist!” or “Wikipedia!” under the sad delusion that Internet references are in and of themselves funny. They are not, nor is Superhero Movie.
And David Zucker, who produced, should crawl up into the fetal position and abort himself for allowing Superhero Movie to see the light of day, further tarnishing a genre that’s been gradually sinking into a morass of unintelligence since he came up with Airplane! 28 years ago. In fact, if I have to see one more of these goddamn films, I swear to God I’m going to single-handedly chainsaw gang-bang the Weinstein Brothers in the ear for shitting the green that funds them, those fucking jabronified butter trolls. I can only hope that someone brings a class action lawsuit against them for infecting the Earth with malignant stupidity.
Dustin Rowles is the publisher of Pajiba. He lives with his wife and son in Ithaca, New York. You may email him, or leave a comment below.
Superhero Movie / Dustin Rowles
Film | March 28, 2008 | Comments ()