![]() ![]() Ungainly break and incorrect dollar rendering, too: The Brothers Warner are pre-IDed in captions as WARNER: and BROTHER. (all sigh with joy), rather as I did throughout the picture. A few more people do trickle in.Įh, what's up, Doc? is in fact “ehh.” “Eh” rhymes with “day.” “I’ve had more people over to my house for a movie,” I tell them. ![]() I walk in and the place is empty save for two girls in the back right by My Seat. The chinstrap-bearded playa is back and signs me in after I remind him not to ask me to sign myself in. (Do you understand how handy that line is going to come in at the various bars I frequent?) Only the most vulgar of the lower orders dare to “laugh out loud.”ĭaffy Duck’s single line, upon viewing a kinky latex outfit, of “How many galoshes died to make that little number?” has me set for life. A comedy that’s funny rather than structurally funny: No wonder crickets dismiss it. I loved this picture to death because I screamed all the way through. Why wouldn’t tenured film crickets notice that? I guess it’s not actually present if it isn’t found in a film that screens at Sundance or Telluride. Besides, there is a plot and it is actually rather surprising: It’s all about Hollywood firing the old-timers in favour of the new kids on the block. They’re cartoons! The story is an osteoporetic skeleton on which to hang unending sight gags and references, plus some screaming dialogue. There doesn’t bloody need to be a plot here. I don’t get why the mainstream critics, as if to show their superiority to the material, are all saying the same thing: There’s no plot here!
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