Cuckoldry Manifest
I originally wasn't planning on reviewing this thing because it's a big bag of nothing--but then I looked it up and saw the synopsis: "A rich college kid is taught a lesson."
Taught a lesson? What f**king lesson? F**k you. There is no such story in this movie. There is not even a story in the whole movie so stop pretending--whoever wrote that didn't watch this pile of f**k. That's like saying Deuce Bigalow is about a californian bum who is taught about tropical fish. No it isn't. The movie isn't about that. That's just the setup.
What the movie actually is, is like a Nicholas Sparks knockoff, but not in a straightforward way, more like they ripped off the plot of 3 different movies and shoved them into a microwave--along with your cat.
First things first, Chris Klein should never be the lead. I assumed, in my smirnoff-soaked naivete, that Hartnett would play lead and Klein the side character; Klein works well in that capacity, like when he played Metzler in Election. Speaking of, why didn't he come back for American Wedding? I sure hope it wasn't to make this turd.
Point being that you have this totally limpdicked main guy for starters; so we're already on a bad trip. And to make matters worse, we've packed a bad lunch: the love interest looks like a vaguely younger Helen Hunt. That is not a good thing. It is not a compliment by any stretch. Get out of here with this lemon-faced b**ch. I cannot buy her as the innocent love interest. I will not buy her in any role, much less as the small-town virgin; no, her face evokes a different personality and it rhymes with Helen Hunt.....
So we've started off bad, but it just keeps getting worse. After the paper-thin setup of Klein drag racing against Hartnett and hitting into a gas station GTA style, thus blowing up a restaurant, the judge orders the pair to rebuild the restaurant... BY HAND!
Yeah, it's dumb as f**k, but up to this point at least there's a throughline. Get ready to say bye bye to that too. After this point it just goes nowhere. I mean by minute 30 I feel like I'm on some Midnight Climax acid trip and being watched by some creepy sadist through a one-way mirror. I put foam on my windows just to make sure but I couldn't get rid of the sensation of paranoia.
That doesn't reflect on the movie's plot, cuz there is none, but it does sort of tell you the feeling of reverse voyeurism it inspires, since basically we've been duped into watching yet another cuck movie. But this time it's one of those cuck movies for girls, where every sh*tty thing she does is justified with some handwaving nonsense about falling in love. Like remember Devil Wears Prada?
Anyway, the movie staggers along in a pointless melange of shirtless Klein scenes, pet rats, walks in the forest, etc., until at random we find the dolt has now fallen in love with Mini-Helen Hunt (presumably off-screen???).
Now that trollop has left her boyfriend and wants to run away with him so they go to his mansion where she conveniently lies in the bathtub where Klein's mom killed herself so they have sex but his dad comes home next morning and catches them and then wants him to go to Princeton early but he goes back to town and the girl has cancer ..... wait what???????
Yeah, that's what the second half of the f**king movie feels like. A big bag of dogsh*t splitting open on your face. And then you get the idiotic, manipulative Sparks ending with the dying girl where the cuck ex-boyfriend is guilt tripped into cucking out and is basically cleaning Chris Kelin's jizz out of Mini-Hunt's snatch with his tongue because she's gonna die anyway so if he truly loves her he should sit in the chair and watch them. Or some crap like that.
Anyway the whole thing is vile.
Dec 28th 2024
Hilarious review.