Thank you, Hollywood, for avoiding responsibility and replacing good acting and writing with two hundred million dollars in CGI and Jessica Biel.These "nuances" are as plain as day, but sometimes while we're being dazzled by Kirsten Dunst's scoliosis Hollywood tries to convince us, through the magical medium of "Fauxgic", that Tobey Maguire can ride a piece of metal from an armored car going eighty miles an hour while dodging traffic.Although Spiderman is based on a comic book, according to Sam Raimi, he was trying to make it realistic, which is a common excuse among many filmmakers. Well, Sam, we hope while you were saying that, the huge payout from Hollywood wasn't burning a hole in your pocket while subsequently lighting your ass-hair on fire. Other nuances:
- Armageddon: No, Michael Bay, space shuttles do not make exciting "whoosh" sounds in space. Thanks for avoiding the whole concept of a vacuum and for giving Ben Affleck a part in your movies, you dick. I hope Spielberg watches you choke and die on a twizzler before Transformers is completed.
- Triple X: If only I could be like Vin Diesel and do eighty foot jumps on a dirt bike all the while kicking terrorist ass. This prison-shower romp you call a movie also taught us that bullets make farm houses explode. Mr. Rob Cohen, I'm so glad I can take you and your total lack of directional prowess seriously. Just wait for the day when you'll have to collect quarters from a velvet carpet to pay your way into directing another shitty ass movie.
- Batman Returns: No, death does not make you sexy, it doesn't even make Michelle Pfeiffer sexy. It makes you dead, and you most likely shit yourself in an utterly humiliating manner.
- Musician-turned-Actor/Actress: Ice Cube, Britney Spears, Mos Def, most musician-turned-actors well completely ruin a movie by proverbially shitting on it via bad acting or making a single for the soundtrack. Either way, LL Cool J will always star in terrible movies done by has-been directors.
- X-Men 3: Apparently vacuums aren't created when huge bursts of flame fill confined spaces. Still riding on the success of your Rush Hour franchise, Mr. Ratner? Don't worry, it will end soon and you can go back to your vain attempts to bring culture into America via independently-produced scheissen films about the sexual exploits of old men.
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