Whatever I Feel Like I Wanna Do. Gosh!
All the cool kids (read: asthmatics) in the movie blog world who saw Mystery Team this year at Sundance insist that it’s, like, the comedy sensation of a lifetime. It’s apparently better than sex! And for most of them, it’s the closest they’ll ever get (movie blogger burn! High five! No? *slinks away*). Anyway, the movie is reportedly going to screen this year at Comic-Con (we have three writers attending — they’ll be the three with actual significant others; geek burn! High five! *sorry*), and it opens in theaters this fall.
I don’t want to judge the movie by the trailer and by the reception, so far, of our hard-up, bearded colleagues, so I’ll wait until it’s released to pass judgment. Except to say this: It’s either some sort of genius Wet Hot American Summer for Napoleon Dynamite fans, or it’s stupid beyond measure. I feel like a prick for saying it, but it’s like finding the three kids in high school who were actually dorkier than I was. And I kind of want to beat them up.
Does that make me a bad person?