Douchey Douchenstein and Doucher St. Douche Get All Douchey
Tucker Max is a vile, scummy, abrasive thing that barely qualifies as human; I try not to spend too much time wondering whether those qualities were obstacles to his penning a best-seller or in fact the evils necessary to become successful in America. He’s a despicable, sexist, mean little pisser who had a blog about what it was like dude to just be like hip-deep in bush man and then that became a book about seriously dude no fatties because gash hounds need standards too dude bro man bro chief dude. He’s the worst kind of person there is. So of course, he got a movie deal.
His memoir, unrepentantly and “hilariously” titled I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, has been turned into a movie starring Matt Czurzchruzhchy and Jesse Bradford and what looks like $27 for set design, editing, and what have you. Watching the trailer makes you realize that there are some depths to which not even Dane Cook would sink; it is that bad, that shameful, that bracing, that depressing. The only upside to the fact that this heap of crap got made is that Freestyle Releasing is only bowing it on 450 theaters on Sept. 25, as if they know that no one will see this and they just want to get in and out as quick as possible before dumping the film to DVD and moving on.
Behold what Hollywood hath wrought: