Hell Hath No Fury Like the Ball of a Dragon
Eleven (11) days. That’s how long I’m giving myself before I finally lose grip on the tenuous hold I have on my sanity. Eleven days. The 100th day of the year. Mandy Moore and Haley Joel Osment’s birthday. The 17th anniversary of Sam Kinison’s passing (may he rest in hell). And the day that Dragonball: Evolution finally arrives in theaters.
It will be a day of reckoning. Movie theaters around the country will be burned to the ground, if only to save future filmgoers from having to witness what is sure to be the worst cinematic atrocity of the year. Dragonball: Evolution, a movie not even fit to be compared to its most obvious influence: The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers.
God help us all. Here’s the latest trailer. I suggest taking a sedative (or half a bottle of cold medication) before attempting to view it, keeping in mind that this is only a small fraction of what you’d have to suffer through for the pleasure of letting them take your money (and if your Mommy is close by, I suggest watching it from betwixt her bosom):
But , wait. It gets worse. A script has already been written for a sequel. And according to IGN, James Marsters — one of the stars of the movie — wants even more:
Firstly Marsters told us why he hopes the film is successful enough to get a sequel and how many DB movies he’d like to see: “I hope [the movie does well] because my character only really gets interesting in the second film, I mean he’s interesting now! But his journey is really developed in the script for the second movie.” He went on: “All I know is I’ve been signed to three movies, but I would like to make five - seven of them. You could just pretty much paint by numbers using the wealth of source material to easily get the seven films. There’s that much there.”
You heard it here third, folks (after IGN reported it, and after I pilfered it from Filmonic): “There’s that much there.” Holy Baby Satan’s vagina. There’s enough, easily, for seven films. May it rain pitchforks and the blood of Katherine Heigl before the day comes when we’re subjected to seven of these films. And if that seventh film comes, may it be called Tyler Perry’s Dragonball and may we all perish in a nuclear holocaust the day before it opens.
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