This film makes you want to fight. Not in general, but with the cocks that made it, because it's shit. To be honest I don't know why I watched it. Why did I watch it? Fucking hell. I don't know. The story is shit, the acting is shit, the fighting is shit, there are no funny lines in it, and the main bird isn't even that fit! I mean, come on. At least put some decent eye candy in there.
There are 3 words you need to know about this movie, they will sum it all up for you beautifully. Are you ready? Ok here we go, the 3 words are..... Lars von Trier.
This film is about how the sort of girls that self-harm also tend to be dirtier than a Joe Pesci monologue. Therefore, if you're into kinky sex, then find yourself a girl who is scarred up, because they have some serious daddy/punishment issues that need addresing on a day-to-day, fucked-up-beyond-belief basis.
I did rate this movie with a 2 on imdb, but it was so very bad that I don't recall a thing about it.
Well fuck me. What a depressing pile of shit. An old broken man examines all his past relationship trying to locate a long lost son. Ex-fucking-actly.
I'm sick of these shitty films where some ubernerd, who can't even speak to a girl, manages to meet a super-sweet, interesting piece of teenage ass, who, inevitably, ends up putting out. That sort of shit doesn't happen. That's what the Internet is for. So these dweebs can whack off in between marathon sessions of World of Warcraft before crying themselves to sleep. And, to top it off, there are few people on earth that deserve a fucking good hiding as much as Michael Cera.
I never bothered rating really bad films on imdb. I never felt they were worth the effort. And then I saw Napoleon Dynamite. I was so furious with this film that I rushed to imdb to give it a 1, and even considered making a post on the forum. At the time of writing, almost certainly the worst film I've ever seen.
I would have seriously contemplated suicide if I'd had to watch the whole of this film. Fortunately it was within my power to just press stop, instead. And I always did think Ethan Hawke was a pansy.
They say a million monkeys sat in a room full of typewriters would eventually come up with the works of Shakespeare, but those same million monkeys sat in that same room full of typewriters would never come up with a film script as bad as this. Nor would they dream up such a horrendous cast. This is really, really bad.
I have a message for William Friedkin, the director of this film; eat shit, rot in hell, and fuck you. You owe me 2 hours of my life back, you cunt.