You'll Beg for the Centipede After This
It’s the rare film that manages to tackle so sensitive a subject. I’m a little unsure about Step Up 3-D, for fear that it seems a bit exploitative. But the concept is so original, it’s hard not to find it a little intriguing.
From what I can tell, Step Up 3-D tells the story of a diverse, eclectic group of teens, afflicted with an unknown neurological disorder that affects their intelligence and makes them prone to violent seizures, trying to make it through day-to-day life in their grim urban environment. Tragically, they are unable to function on even the most basic level — they are unable to properly dress themselves, can barely speak coherently, and any bright light seems to trigger their unfortunate fits. It’s bold subject matter, and taking their apoplectic bouts and mixing…
Wait, what? It’s not about epilepsy? It’s another fucking dancing movie?
Oh, fuck me. Motherfucking shitasshellcrapdamnfuck. That’s just stupid.
Goddamnit. Do we really need another of these movies? Is there some fascinating aspect of it that wasn’t covered in either of the first two, or in any of the other incredibly derivative entries? At least this one doesn’t have Charming Potato in it. Oh, what’s that? It’s in 3-D? Listen, asshole. Unless there are bullets or swords or severed heads flying at me, I’m not fucking interested, OK? I don’t want to see some putty-headed, marble-mouthed human bendy straw contort themselves and stick their ass in my face in 3-D. I just don’t give a crap.
And that soundtrack. Christ, it reads like the soundtrack to your torture chamber in hell. When I die, a lifetime of sins will be punished by locking me in a coffin that just blares this soundtrack over and over, as the coffin spins in slowly accelerating circles, forcing me to smother myself in my own vomit while I listen to fucking Flo Rida and Sean Paul on an endless, hellish loop.
Here’s the fucking trailer. Now die. Everyone.