I caught a lot of flack for this flick (mostly from Scuddy), and even accepted censure standing by it, love it as I do. Now, I'm not going to preach a bunch of camp value bullshit here or quote some obscure passage from Schiller on the aesthetic values of irony because I know you are all busy people; and I don't want to over-analyze this thing (though I could, and have) so, simply put: This film is a fascinating matrix of poor decision making and overall lack of good sense, like staring onto the void, and can be as rewarding and instructive as watching a very well-crafted movie. For example, if you've ever wondered what the term deus ex machina means...No one thought maybe having the only two black characters in the movie singing a reggae-ish ditty about how Bugalow knows "how to be a master" was a bad idea? From the bored look on Candy's face starting around the 35 min. mark, by guess is that Mr. Golan wasn't fooling anyone. I mean, an Israeli makes a movie in Berlin equating the fall of man with disco, and then hires the entire line of, ahem, dancers standing outside the unemployment office in Manhattan who obviously feel the same way. Anyhow, those songs have lain barbs in my heart, and now when Bibi and Alfie sing "Cry for me", I do.
And this movie wasn't nearly as bad as last year's real stinker:
Looking now to the future:
The real object of this post is to issue a challenge. You think the Apple is bad? The Apple isn't bad, this is:
I dare ya to fucking watch it.
-J. Baker, brilliant young scientist
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