I’m going to stop listening to people who recommend movies to me, because apparently the only side of me they see is the cursing, farting, beer-guzzling fat man that enjoys nothing more than wet t-shirt contests and animated gifs of men getting kicked in the junk. Not that any of these things are false; but people, I’m a multi-layer dude. I’ve got an intellectual layer, not to mention a sensitive, emotional layer. I’ve got more layers than the OSI Network Model!
I can’t believe I just said that.
Anyway, on Sunday evening, having spent all morning trying to climb mountains on a pedal-less bicycle, I wanted to relax with a beer and some Fritos and watch TV. Sarah suggested, “Hey, we should rent a movie!” So we check out the various pay-per-view options, and decided on two: “Ocean’s Twelve,” and “Team America: World Police.” Unfortunately, it was just about 6:15 when we sat down to make our selection, and Ocean’s Twelve is apparently 125 minutes long. This would impinge on our ability to watch The Simpsons at 8pm. So we went with Team America.
Many of my friends had highly recommended it, particularly the uncut version. “Oh man Hearn, you have to see it, the puppets are hilarious, and the songs are freaking awesome.” “Okay, okay, I’ll rent it one of these days, let me out of this headlock before I pass out.”
I’m not listening to my friends any more. From here on out it’s all noir and Merchant-Ivory films, because “Team America,” dear reader, was the stupidest piece of film dreck since I swiped Sarah’s digital camera and made a short video of her eating pie.
Hearnwife was never able to get past the puppet thing. I think it works in situations like the Muppets, where there’s never any question that they’re puppets, and they embrace the fact that Jim Henson’s hand was wrist deep in their patooties. In Team America, it sort of works, mainly because you could never accept actual humans saying the things these puppets say without throwing up on your lap. Also it does make the sex scene between Gary and Lisa particularly amusing, since few human actors would be willing to do the stuff that they can do to the puppets (see: Golden Shower, and Hot Lunch).
I can certainly respect the screenwriters’ idea to parody action movies, and rip on a few political and Hollywood figures. The dialogue was meant to be very over-the-top. Unfortunately, “over-the-top” does not always mean funny (as Tom Green has discovered, to his great dismay), and it certainly doesn’t here. By the second half-hour, I was getting up and retrieving more food and beverages from the kitchen without even bothering to pause it.
I have to admit, I did enjoy the songs. “America: F#*$ Yeah!” was entertaining, particularly in the second iteration when it turned into a minor key depressing Ani DiFranco ballad. “The AIDS Song” made me giggle, mostly because it made me think of a truly horrible joke that I will not share in this public space because there’s still a strong chance one of my grandparents will happen upon it.
At the end of the movie, HW and I had the same thought: We just spent $3.99 and 90 minutes on that piece of crap. And then we cried.
Gee, I didn’t know anybody knew anything about the OSI network model anymore. Did you learn about this in college? I think you are correct in your assessment of Hollywood’s drivel, although I do admit getting a chuckle or two from the likes of “Anchorman”. – Jinga-dad