The Rage
Introduction
Introduction
How many more generations of humans do you think this planet will survive? Do you believe that humanity has the capacity to, as a whole, put the common good of the masses above the personal ambitions of the able? I’m cynical.
I think about the future that I may live to see, and I’m excited, ‘cause shit gonna be kicking off! Imagine being an aging adult as the 1960s counterculture of beatniks became the hippies of 1970, and suddenly marijuana and casual sex are in and fascism and haircuts and pants are out? You can’t fight change. Constant change is the only constant there is. I did NOT think of that myself, it’s some philosopher or something.
I also haven’t left the house today. I mean, I did exit it, but I stayed on concrete that’s attached to the house and under an awning that’s attached to the house, so although I was technically outside, as in, were I naked I’d catch a charge, but I didn’t leave the confines of the house, since the patio I was standing on is fenced in to keep Fort Peppah safe from deer.
I don’t feel bad about not leaving to go do errands or anything, but I do feel more and more like a hermit for the way I’ve been living. For that point, no, didn’t make it to the gym. Didn’t make it to getting punched in the head. Didn’t get around to writing to the psychologist, either. The only real item of consequence that I can point to as proof that I existed today is that I ate a bunch of the beans and peas from my garden, which is on the patio.
The sun was shining through the stalks of the plants when I went to check the soil and I smelled the fresh produce and got the munchies and then spent the next 20 minutes picking and eating the peas and beans that were ready to pick. SO good.
I feel… optimistic today? Even though I feel like a dirty loser for not actually doing anything? I’m not sure what there is to be optimistic about. I await no ships to come in. I have no correspondence at large outstanding. I’ve entered no lotteries. So, what the fuck could go right? A literally golden meteor to crash through the roof yet not injure me or the dogs or break any of our shit?
I have nothing to look forward to in the context of optimism. Yet I feel Neil Diamond singing in my veins. Could this mean that I’m in for a good movie tonight? That’d be lovely. Last night was a lot of fun, but, you know, you can only have so much fun with Fred Savage before you start feeling a bit self-conscious and awkward.
Would we make a good foster couple? Not for long term, but could we help out? I have a hole in myself that’s been missing since teaching martial arts fell to Covid for the 8th time and did not get back up. Aside from my wife, that was the best and most positive thing in my life. That was what gave me definition and pride of self.
Now, I’m someone who used to do a thing, and my Vince Neil physique proves it. I bring less to a fight than Steven Segal. I’m ashamed to say that it appears that my soul dines at the same sad buffet as his. A Bronze Corral.
If there was a Stone Age, a Bronze Age, and Iron Age, what age are we living in now? I guess the Digital Age? Leaning into the Virtual Age? What could come next after that? Letters made it possible to talk to people farther away than yelling is practical, and then radio allowed us to listen to people farther away than writing letters is practical, and then television and the internet gave us the ability to live on our asses interacting with people everywhere.
It’s no longer worth discussing distance unless one must physically complete the journey. It’s pointless to ship a common item farther than a certain distance, because at some point there is another item that serves that same need that can get there faster through an alternate stream than the one initially proposed.
Covid locked us in our houses and stuck Amazon Prime ports into our veins, and there is no point to violent crime anymore since material gain can come about as easily as wandering neighborhoods not your own and porch-shopping.
I’ve been looking at the internet as a place of obtaining drugs recently, since I am on a mushroom kick yet appear unable to grow any. The internet and social media are flooded with advertisements for whatever you could want. LSD? Crack? Meth? PCP?
Shit I never heard of that’s just a powder identified by a couple of letters and then a number, but if you’re willing to purchase this other similar product that’s a different set of letters and number, not only is it on sale right now, but we’ll give you a sample of our gummies infused with a set of letters and number as well as a cheap pair of sunglasses!
Why the sunglasses? I can only assume it’s because your eyes are going to drop to pinpricks if you get any of this shit on yourself. Let’s bring this full circle and note that as we’re living in the Digital Age, we’re using our age-defining technology to keep doing the same thing we’ve done ever since we ate a mushroom, fermented apple, or marijuana brownie.
We’re going to use whatever capacity we have available to attain more of that shit and keep rolling on it until the wheels come off. This is where I lose my belief that mankind is going to succeed in the long, medium, or even short run. I’ve lived to see the changes in the clouds and glaciers. I’ve seen lush forests dry through the years until they burned through the night. I’ve smelled smoke from states away, smoke filled with particles of progress and death, now free and alight, itching my eyes and throat.
Our world is drying and burning. Or rather, my personal corner of it is. Other neighborhoods are experiencing torrential flooding. Yet others have gang warfare or poisoned drinking water. The only commonality between these varying flavors of existence is that we’re humans doing human shit and reaping human rewards.
How do you poison your own drinking water in the name of progress? How do you continue to run the machines that are proven to create sickness? How do you advertise vice without being lynched? We’re useless. Idiocracy nailed it in the math. The intelligent and educated see the causation between more children and less resources and make conscious decisions to avoid negative repercussions, while the stupid breed like rabbits and then complain when a pitcher of Kool-Aid doesn’t go as far with all these mouths to feed.
I honestly feel like one of the saving graces for my personal predicament is the peripheral thrill of watching civilization give way to decay. I have never set a long term goal. I have never set a long-term goal. I’ve started down paths that had endings, and I reached them, but this is more resultant in my “surf the universe” philosophy of spiritual laziness opposed to the urge to achieve that others utilize to define them.
Did I realize young that we’re all going to die and in the end, nothing you did makes a difference, so enjoy it as much as you can before your card is pulled? Or did I read so much history as a child that I’ve subconsciously declined to participate, knowing full well that the only ending to anything mankind has ever known involves blood, flames, screaming, and preaching, whether it be religious, political, or socially biased.
Every cycle ends. That’s one of the defining points. It usually gets more airtime than the beginning or middle, even. So, if life is just one big bicycle race around the block that means nothing and is instantly forgotten the minute we sit down to dinner, (our opinions on what we will eat override our caring about anything and everything historical) why should it be expected that everyone is going to pedal as fast as possible?
This is all before we realize that the course is constantly changing throughout the duration of the race, as well as expectations of and resources available the racer? Well, since I suddenly stopped typing and have been staring at this last sentence and thinking about childhood friends that I’ve left, I feel like I may have run our of into steam and should start looking for tonight’s fare.
Ok. I found one that I’ve been sitting on for a couple of months. The Rage. I mean, NOT 28 Days Later. But… it really sounds like it. “When victims injected with the rage virus escape the experimentation of a mad scientist and his secrets are uncovered all hell breaks loose. The Rage is guaranteed to be an out-rage-ously gory good time!”
I’ve just decided on another plank of my political platform. All carnival barkers will annually have their knees broken. So will copy-writers who use this monster truck rally announcer tone. I guess you’re still allowed to use it at monster truck rallies though. Turns into more of a sovereign right once you start launching F350s two hundred feet through the air.
So, evidently, I really don’t like the guarantee. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that I believe if your warrantee or guarantee is the best thing you have going for you, you should probably come up with a better product to shill. Also, I am fucking shocked that Danny Boyle didn’t trademark “The Rage Virus”. I mean, I kinda think he could have.
The Asylum would have come out with “The Anger Serum” a month later. Huh. Looking at this further, the Genres that Amazon calls out? “Kids, Suspense, Horror, Documentary” Ok. I get the Suspense and Horror, I mean, shit- I’m looking forward to it! I blinked at Documentary, but then I turned my amp up to 11 and pushed through, thinking it could be some Blair Witch type found footage that they meant as “Fake documentary”, or, as I hope, Mocumentary. “You can’t really dust for vomit.” But… Kids?
I… I’m having an issue with this. Did they label Children of the Corn and The Girl with all the Gifts as Kids? I feel like the Kids genre is there for movies that appeal to children. Like, young adults is movies that appeal to young adults.
Shit. Maybe they made this genre more for movies LIKE Kids? I remember when that came out- shit- I think that’s another Danny Boyle movie? Not sure. But when it came out, my girlfriend and I went to see it, since there was so much buzz about it in the news, about how it painted such a bleak picture of what youth in America is like. I think I snuck a 40oz into the theater.
I never raped anyone, but we kinda were living in the eddies of that river ourselves; drinking and assaulting each other was the norm. But that punch-drunk highway behind us, I doubt that labeling this as a Kids movie was a good idea. Or correct labelling. But, since last night’s Fred Savage special was Kids-centric, I suppose this could be… Nah.
I’d make more progress standing in a fancy crockery shop, closing my eyes, extending my arms, and helicoptering in circles until I fell over. I might go for a walk after this review is done. Gonna fill up the coffee and lungs and then… Whooo! Whoouch! I just knocked my knuckles against the recently glowing banger and now I have a burnt white spot on my hand and I smell like overdone mushrooms.
Review Notes
Review Notes
Whoah. Got the dab sweats.
Am I supposed to know who Robert… Kaufman? Is? (Kurtzman)
Starting off with some “urban wreckage and decay”… pretty well done.
Lots of science shit…
Some gore…
Really childishly annoying blue script for the credits. It’s what your 12 year old younger brother would have chosen.
Got a woman with exposed brain seizing on a table.
Dude with bloody face clamped to a table.
Some pockmarked scientist speaking… Italian? Fuck if I know. #subtitles. Maybe it’s Russian?
Looks like he’s doing all this surgery in his basement.
And these are unwilling participants.
Oh, shit. We have zombies in cages, and they’re eating, and they may be the reddest, wettest, yuckiest zombies I’ve ever seen.
Maps of Chicago, uh, Detroit? LA.
This villain is monologuing to make sure we understand the full depth of the plot. All… cocktail napkin scribblings of it.
Oh, shit! He’s carving the guy’s head open. So much red!
The zombies grow strange bone crap all over their face.
Yeah, this is hella-gorey.
Really interesting yet kinda crappy CGI science stuff showing how the shit is spreading through his brain…
And now his face has a big… well, he looks kinda like Groot or an Ent right now.
Except wowie, he has some… anger to work out. Almost as if he’s… irritated.
He’s got forceps dangling from his brain as he’s lurching around. Yeah. Gorey.
Yup. Broke free and bit the doctor.
That’s good gore!
Trying for the antidote!
Getting choked! Handgun! Random shooting! Tussle! Got one!
Fighting! Oh. Well, it’s all very hard to explain, but the doctor is biting one zombie while the other attacks a third with an axe. Look, you just kinda gotta be there to understand. But it’s beautifully chaotic. More “Yargs” than a pirate ship, though.
Everything said and done, the zombie chose to stab him to death with a bone-saw, not eat his brain.
Oh. Women. With fire.
We’re at a rock concert. By people who look like Korn, if Korn was wearing pig masks?
They all took ecstasy?
We’re having an argument about consent?
“I am a tri-sexual… that means I will try anything you want me to.” Fuck. Why do I always learn such great lines after I’m married? I mean, this is actually the first time, but… Damn. I want to use that one!
Uh… we’re making a night of memories? The three of us? Who the fuck talks like this?
That fire dancer girl looks really familiar. Like the one in Moonshine Bandit’s song about… Bass. And whiskey. And drunk driving.
So much of this is footage shots of the band doing music video shit. Is this a movie or a music video?
I’m… having issues with this sex scene.
“James Bond accent?”
Dude, don’t compare yourself to her father!
“Who’s the Commander?”
Another bone-head gets the bone saw…
Naked and crawling…
Got her eye ripped out, she did! And now we see the zombie-biting-people. Yay!
Jesus, they have a song for every scene here. Way too much thought went into the music for this.
Oh, the walk of shame.
And… two skins and a fatty bringing the sexual harassment? Well, I mean, the skins are fat too. So… Do the math. You end up dividing losers by zero.
HA!!! Holy shit, I was not expecting that!!
Dude blew chunks all over his girl!
Zombie staggering around in the woods.
Fucking camera keeps using unnecessary effects that are making me feel kinda queasy. Knock it off! It’s not adding anything! You insecure asshole!
Got vultures eating the fallen zombie.
To the EXACT same eagle-shriek as that other movie. Damn, this is getting to be a problem. I ought to write to someone.
Fishing?
Every single article of clothing and fishing gear is brand new. That’s a costuming fail.
“I don’t like the worms. They’re icky!” AMEN, Sister, AMEN! PREACH!!
“Uncle Ben, why’d daddy have to die?” Uh… So, this isn’t just about rice? Take a seat, junior, it’s complicated.
I don’t think these people are really holding fishing rods.
“I don’t like this. Not one bit.” That girl is the only good character in the movie.
Oh, shit, well, she just got attacked by the lamest of vultures. Horrible CGI.
I don’t believe these characters are in a Winnebago.
I can’t be bothered to recount the RV conversation.
Kid wants to play star wars on X-Box.
Phantasm gets a name-check. Mom took it away ‘cause it was too scary. Wonder what the connection is. Uncle Ben knows.
Sadie! Sadie! “”Sadie G. she’s crazy, see?” that’s what the white coats say…”
Feathers and intestines. Sounds like a country western album.
Oh. Uh… The vulture just puked watery mustard on Uncle Ben.
Uncle Ben appears to be… hungry.
Damn! Not only did the shit eat away at his face, but he’s gone fucking crazy! Full zombie!
Fast, red zombies! I mean, so fast that the kid running onto the dock didn’t even see you run past him onto the dock in order to already be standing on the dock with that… stick? Log? I’m not sure, it’s like a stream. Is it a creek or a river? But… I mean… That made no sense. In the movie or my writing.
Beat the kid down though. No mercy there. Maybe that’s why this said “Kids”.
Back to the RV… No, I don’t believe you’re filming that in a RV.
511?
He just puked on you and now you’re making out and shot-gunning hits for him? I mean, I kinda… I’m gonna shut the fuck up. That guy is *steering*.
“I’ve seen a hundred shitty horror movies start out like this.” Well… I mean, to be fair… it should have been “I’ve seen a hundred shitty horror movies that self-reference exactly 30 minutes into itself.”
This house is making more sounds lately. I hear more knocks and creaks and thumps and shit than I used to. My wife says the same thing.
The zombie stole the dude’s fishing vest? “Give me your clothes. And the keys to your motorcycle.”
Rampant lesbian flirting! Rampant, I tells ya!
What the hell is the zombie eating?
This is not a normal friend group.
Uh… kinda hard to explain, but as the girls were fighting, the driver got distracted, and ran the RV over the zombie who was eating the blenderized road-kill before flying off the road and bouncing down a hill.
Hmm. Not so difficult after-all.
Zombie sure went SPLAT though. RV got red all over it.
Well, Jay, you could have braked. That would have been a great start. Or rather, end. Or slowing.
Yeah, this is not a good friend group.
Oh! Shit! Zombie just grabbed that dude! From under the RV!
Damn. That is some enthusiastic rock-head smashing!
I think the zombie’d be dead too.
What? HA!! Those vultures SUCK! SUCK!!
Oh. They can shriek so loud that people cowering inside an RV are driven mad!
I paused and can read the graffiti. Someone wrote “Hail Satan”. That’s… a fucking weird spin on things.
The RV is also adorned with a picture of the fire-dance lady from the initial party. So much obvious promotion. Very heavy handed.
I’m willing to bet that the band that we just saw playing is named “Mushroom Head”. ‘cause I just saw a flyer of theirs above the fire dancing woman.
And now we have vultures breaking into an RV. Poorly.
They’re using “Camera on a bungee” to it’s extreme.
So much screaming.
Jay is getting bites.
Why are you smashing out the windows? Where are you going to run to? Why are you going to blow up the RV? Why the fuck are you abandoning the RV?
See! It just puked on your face!
Well, and then you got dragged up onto the RV’s roof and decapitated.
This movie is spiritually related to Birdemic, which I have only seen via RiffTrax.
Like, 6 straight minutes of the 4 of them standing in a circle holding their ears and screaming.
Where is all this fog coming from? And where did it suddenly go away? And now it’s back?
A dream? “Is God punishing us?” “I don’t know what’s going on!” Well, that makes two of us.
Pretty cool little waterfall…
So, they’re lost, and they’re climbing up. I guess that’s to be expected.
“It’s nice here!” Well, you’re lost in the forest, so… yeah. Let’s sit around some more.
Wait, what? What the hell is she talking about? “I am a fucking crazy bitch!”
She can act, but… like… what’s wrong with her voice?
Oh, shit! There’s a skull in the water.
Those look like saw cuts? But not all the way open like the doctor was doing?
Zombie vulture eggs and babies and a severed human head…
Hulk go SMASH now!
Oh, fuck! Giant leeches! I do not like. I do not like!
So, this whole thing is pretty incoherent, but I think one of the girls just died and there’s giant leeches attacking them and a vulture zombie just found it’s nest- where they nest, on the ground- with all the smashed eggs, and it appears to be sentient to the degree that it’s *pissed off* now.
More screaming and ear-holding.
Josh can’t hit the pinata!
Finally! Shit! Now there’s three more! These work through video-game logic.
So much running through the woods.
So much running through the cornfields.
So much hiding in the cornfields.
So much running through the cornfields.
So much vultures dive-bombing and strafing runs on the people running through the cornfields.
So much trying to get into a shed.
And… what’s her butt got bit, and then they decapitated the vulture with the door, and then headless body did a very red squirting dance for a bit.
Oh! They’re in the original doctor’s la-bor-a-tory.
And at least one zombie got loose, ‘cause it’s biting you now.
Ahh… the old “bury an axe in the zombie’s head before impaling it on a pole that’s then rammed into the side of an electrical transformer” trick.
Oh, and the axe… I mean, that was a cool special effect, spinning like that, but…
Now the zombie’s got you.
“You must remain very very quiet. Or there is no beating for you tonight.”
The side of the doctors head just started rippling.
“Please forgive me. I’m not myself today. You see, I died and was resurrected…”
Why did you save the worst actress for the last death? I mean, not the worst… there’s sort of a base level here that never gets surpassed.
“A bride of rage”
“Kiss the monkey!”
“I’m tired of screwing dead girls!”
A power drill to the brain. That’s original.
In fact, this whole thing has a foul Re-Animator taste to it.
Syringe of orange shit to the brain…
We’re flashing back to the doctor’s origin story. He’s fighting against cancer. Found a cure for it, in fact.
Ok, we’re thrown in a dose of “They choose not to cure because they can get more money continually healing.” conspiracy theories type shit for good wacko measure.
And the doctor gets tortured.
And loses his pants privilege.
So he starts breaking necks.
We’re way off the reservation… we’re… in some different movie or something.
Everyone has his cure to cancer yet no-one will bring it to market.
So he’s gonna punish us.
He built the Rage disease as revenge.
Spread through exchange of body fluids.
But oh! He has an antidote.
Who the fuck is he talking to? It’s a TV commercial? When did that start?
Vulture enzymes?
Now you need a new antidote?
Monkey! Monkey!
“This is not your daddies bird flu.”
Oh, shit… he’s ripped off that guy’s arm. And he’s using it to extend his reach! To grab the pistol… That’s randomly lying there on the floor.
Oh, Jesus, she is awake and PISSED!
So… another “God, that got weird” recap… Um… The guy with the gun started shooting, and beakers got knocked over and things caught on fire, and then he shot his way out of the cage, but as he was trying to rescue the girl who can’t act, the vultures started breaking in through the windows, and the doctor isn’t dead and he’s trying to kill them with an axe, so they jump down the same trap-door that the runt went down.
Only to find themselves in a nightmarish torture pit with crucified mutants and dissected corpse shit floating in green tanks.
Gor? There’s a lot of uses for Gor.
Gor is energy powered. Like, the runt flips a switch and Gor does the full Frankenstein.
Yeah, it’s a butcher room. Shoulda checked the fridge!
“I’m going to rip off your tits and eat them!” and this is actually a subtitle off the screen, so I’m not mistaking it.
She got the runt up on a meat-hook. Pinata time!
Gor is a pincushion…
Oh, that was not required. We did not need to see her shove a rod up Gor’s ass.
Oh! Bad CGI poop! That’s the worst kind.
Hack hack hack hack hack hack.
Leaving the bunker to… The doctor. And a kick in the head.
Dammit, I thought this was finally over.
Ok, well, they still have good shit to offer. The doctor is beating Josh down with the vulture.
And, well… the doctor gets decapitated, and his neck is fountaining out the red, and his body is choking Josh, while his head lays on the floor yelling directions about picking him up.
Oh, no! They thought they were going to get away, but there’s hundreds of vultures swooping down!
————End Transmission——————–
Plot Autopsy
Plot Autopsy
- There’s some low-budget Russian tinged Saw rip-off brain surgery going on.
- There’s also a big metal concert and a three-some going on. On ecstasy.
- Umm… Cue the vulture zombies and an RV fistfight
- Running, screaming, bungee camera. Running, screaming, bungee camera.
- Running, screaming, bungee camera. Running, screaming, bungee camera, but one less actress.
- Evil doctor monologues, everything slows to sluggishly incompetent, red goes everywhere, the end.
Zombie Description
Zombie Description
So… well, first… the zombies come from the disappointment virus. I mean, the Rage Virus. And this was developed by the same crazy Russian scientist that found a cure for cancer that was then globally suppressed. So… he had the shit beaten out of him and somehow ended up living in an underground bunker in, like, the forest of New Jersey where he… so he makes this Rage stuff, which when you get it your head swells all up with hard boils and you run around killing people. You can use weapons, you change clothes, which means you have some grasp of fashion, honey, and that’s always an impressive start. But, then, just like we ended up with world plagues of Monkey Pox and Superbug Gonorrhea simultaneously, the virus jumped to vultures, but due to their stomach enzymes it got stronger, as well as giving them the ability to barf caustic zombie-causing yellow crap all over someone. Uh… the zombies make decent la-bor-a-tory assistants (ass-is-tant-s), when they’re not wearing the scalp of a previous victim and waving their monkey stuffed animal in future victims faces. Dude. You can’t make this shit up. Without having suffered sufficient head injury and contingent brain trauma.
Where the money went
Where the money went
Well, a shit-ton of it either went to or was received (as a bribe for inclusion) from the band. I don’t think that they actually contributed anything to the movie; the scene could have been extra cut footage of extras from Dazed and Confused for all the point it affected the plot. I’m imagining the same scene with Sweet Home Alabama -AND- “Saving the Day” from the Ghostbusters sound track and, well, the pig faced Slipknot rip-offs would have looked silly(er) but the effect and addition to the movie itself wouldn’t change worth shit. I will say… Mushroom Head… If that’s your real name after all… I liked the song that plays for the credits. I liked it. Was nodding my head. But, gimmick costumes in gimmick movies do not an epic band make.
Best Weapon
Best Weapon
Imagine you’re an evil zombie doctor, and you’re out wrangling your evil vulture zombies. You caught one and you’re bringing it home for dinner. You start down the secret bunker-like steps of your underground la-bor-a-tory and suddenly, and quite rudely, you’re almost run over by one of your captives from the holding pens. “What is he doing out and about?” you calmly ask yourself on the inside, but on the outside, it’s like you’re hovering over your own shoulder watching in shock as you begin beating the captive brutally with… what you have in your hand… which is… one of your zombie vultures. One of your prized zombie vultures. I mean, you can hear yourself shrieking that it’s going to be broken and ruined, but you’re so upset and startled that you just can’t control yourself to reign in your anger.
That was new!
That was new!
It’s new for someone to so obviously blatantly rip off a major genre cannon’s concept- because it isn’t The Asylum. The special effects being so gory wasn’t exactly new, but it was refreshingly well done. Zombie birds? Nope. Can’t give you credit for that being original. I believe Fulci’s Zombi 3 that also has zombie birds. And besides, they SUCKED. The CGI for them was horrible. I can’t say this is new, but the over-reliance on cheap camera and editing tricks not only wasn’t new by any regard, but it also made me queasy. I can’t really think of anything that was new here. I’m sure something the deranged doctor ranted about was original, but he monologed so long and hard that he could have stuffed the secret recipe for Coke into his script and no-one would have noticed.
Can I get a hand?
Can I get a hand?
So… this is the second movie in a row I’ve reviewed where a character uses a severed hand to extend their reach to pull something closer. There was no zombie breach, there were some route infections, there wasn’t anything really worth writing home about here, but once again, people using the hand as a hand. It’s poetry in motion.
Overall Recommendation
Recommendation?
Bad movie that you’ll have a good time watching. I know this is cliché, but this is so bad that it’s good, and one of the best parts of this debacle is you can tell that some of the actors and actresses know that it’s a farce and treat it like such, while others are obviously trying their hardest to win an Oscar; but as the movie progresses, it seems like these two camps are continually in flux, people switching sides at will. There is so much wrong with this that it’d be easier to talk about what they did right, but then we’d be in for a very short conversation about gore special effects. We would NOT be talking about dialogue, camera-work, plot… We’d talk about the amount and quality of the red. I feel lazy sticking this movie into a silo, but this is one that would be best enjoyed while quite banged up and in the company of good, equally banged up friends. Very little of this is actually zombie, it feels like an early Asylum attempt, and in all honesty they abused the capabilities of their software package with the zooming in and out and the ripple effect and… Shit. The pacing was like watching a drunk on a bicycle weaving down the road, and the rabid chickens… I mean, that’s really what they looked like. They were horrible and dumb. Which would be a great way to describe this movie, if I hadn’t found myself enjoying it so much.