"Old Dogs" should be put down

PETA can blow me.

OLD DOGS (2009)

Picture this: You go to the movies. The lights go down, the film reel starts up.

Then, out of the darkness, a shadowy figure - one that looks a lot like John Travolta - comes along, unzips their pants, and lays a hot, steaming pile right in your lap. Not finished, the shadowy figure slowly turns around and lets a golden shower loose right into your eye sockets. And to complete this triple crown of bodily function doom, the guy bends down, opens his mouth, and projectile vomits square into your piehole.

That's about what watching "Old Dogs" was like.

"Old Dogs" tells the tail (get it?) of two annoying, washed-up actors who run a sports agency. There's an old dog, hot old women, piss-poor child actors, Seth Green, and other shit in there too, but it really doesn't matter because you're not going to watch this movie anyway.

Likely the reason why Bernie Mac died, "Old Dogs" is a miserable excuse for slapstick humor, one that falters in every sense of professional filmmaking. Though John Travolta and Robin Williams make for a more-than-impressive dramatis personae, no amount of starpower could save this trainwreck. Full of cheap gags and cheap humor, "Old Dogs," the Aldi's of major motion pictures, is an hour-and-a-half of sensory rape that no respectable human should be subject to.

F

2012 brings the apocalypse of the brain

Preface: Don't ever see an idiotic movie on vicodin. Drowsiness does not tango with dying brain cells.

2012 (2009)

They say movies are a recession-proof business. It's true. The escapism of movies allows the everyday Joe Schmo to get away from the horrors of their 9-to-5.

But don't tell that to "2012" director Roland Emmerich.

Emmerich's newest chapter in his disaster porn autobiography is one that bottoms out in IQ, resulting in a movie-going experience akin to getting poked in the eye with needles laden with AIDS continuously for 158 grueling minutes of cinematic plundering.

I'm not even going to bother with an intricate plot synopsis, mostly because there is no [intricate] plot to begin with. The jist of the story is that a solar-flare-of-death happens and causes the layers of the Earth to get completely fucked. Then things blow up. That's "2012."

"2012" (or "Ericsson" as it will further be called thanks to blatant Sony product placement) is essentially a B-movie with an A-budget; a film that fails on every creative level with the subtlety of a shotgun barrel to boot. A narrative as emaciated as an Olsen Twin, the paint-by-numbers reunion of divorced lovers in times of TOTAL FUCKING DESTRUCTION, and rampant cheesy dialogue come together to create a catharsis of bad, worse, and worst elements in the movie version of a Molotov cocktail.

But seriously, John Cusack outrunning the simultaneous implosion of all of Earth while driving through crumbling office buildings and collapsing off-ramps?

as;dlkalksj'f---------------

Sorry, my brain just died.

To make matters worse, Emmerich's third-grade level understanding of thematics and symbolism drives "Ericsson" to unfathomable levels of atrocious. "Ericsson" runs-off a checklist of high school English vocabulary terms, but sadly, it's all handled cheaply and with the nuance of getting hit in the face over and over again with a big black penis.

A series of arks with a boy named Noah on one of them? What a profound Biblical allusion.

Sigh. A big-budget CGI spectacle trying to be something it's not is nothing more than utterly contemptible, laughable for all the wrong reasons, and thoroughly nauseating and unwatchable.

A woeful disaster in every sense of the word, "Ericsson" is a film that should be panned by every self-respecting intelligent being. Though not short on scale, "Ericsson" longs for intelligence, and coupled with a cheese factor that soars to new heights and the intricacy of a NASCAR race, it winds up being a dumbfounding farce of a film that further sinks the cinematic medium to embarrassingly low levels of intelligence.

D-