Monday, June 14, 2010

Did You Hear About the Morgans?...That's Too Bad

Hey Kids!

A blog as important as this one should really have a great introduction. So it gives me great pleasure to christen this blog with a smelly, shitty, spoiled champagne bottle called Did You Hear About the Morgan's. In the Pantheon of bad movies, this probably doesn't even crack the top 50. However there are some very important "shit" bits about this movie that make it stand out. Whether it's Sarah Jessica Parker's seemingly endless attempts to make anything better than the Sex in the City movies (and for God's sake, when your career to this point is trying to make something better than Sex in the City, just say "fuck it" to the ladder trying to help you out of the hole and embrace the shower of dirt on your face. Because there is no way you're working your way out of there). Or Hugh Grant trying to branch out to the new role as "awkward English guy that doesn't fit in." (And by the way, I hope you feel the sarcasm rising from that sentence like heat rising off of a hot paved road in the Mojave). Or the obvious "I'm taking this money and drinking on this piece of shit set all day," role played by the one and only Sam Elliot, you can see how this movie might have a chance to be a dark horse in this year's Razzies for "Worst Movie of the Year."

Let's begin with the mind blowing premise of this boovie ('s boo and movie put together. This is why I don't do this professionally). They are a married couple that hate each other (what? in a Christian society? WWJD?)...and the movie goes to great lengths to show you this - to a point where you hate them...and could care less about there lives away from each other. Seriously, within the first 10 minutes, I came to the realization that they had to have crippling drug problems when they started their relationship, because there is no way that I would put up with that shit long enough to get married. No way. The first time that Sarah Jessica gave me that scouring look over that enormous ski-slope of a nose, I'm out.

So they attempt to have a dinner together one last time to save the marriage and low and behold, they witness a murder. "Of their careers', Kevin?" Well yes, but no. They see a guy being pushed out of a building by another ominous figure (and by the way, this happens IN THE MIDDLE OF MANHATTAN! Where did they find this hit man? Craig's List?) So this is where the story makes a wild and wacky turn. They get put into Witness Protection! Oh boy, oh boy...two city urbanites need to find residence somewhere. Oh man, only hilarity would ensue if they went to the country somewhere. But the gods couldn't bestow that sort of magic to us peasants could they? On the contrary...the gods handed us fire.

Believe it or not, the entire movie can be summed up in a paragraph as long as the last one...and you are not missing all. They get to live out in nowhere (Montana or someplace that not even Rick Steves has been too). Their minds are fuckin' blown by the idea of having a Bob Evan's style breakfast (seriously, when Sarah Jessica looked at her plate, it was like they clubbed a baby seal and put it in front of her. She could not have been more repulsed.) They find out what an outlet store is...because apparently the city is devoid of such things. The locals hate them at first...why? Because they're fucking awful! And by the way, who chooses to be the crustiest of all the angry locals? Well no other than Wilford 'fuckin' Brimley! Which I found ironic, because this was about the point in the movie where I started thinking "Would I rather finish this movie or have diabetes?"

Hugh Grant almost gets attacked by a bear. Then Sarah Jessica walked out and the bear freaked out and ran away. Oh yeah, the couple that takes them in is Sam Elliot and Mary Stuart Masterson. I would have mentioned this earlier but their characters suck and they really don't mean anything. So I chose to exclude them because they both have made great movies in the past and I feel like doing them a favor. We find out that the marriage fell apart because they couldn't have a kid (Sarah blames Hugh...because apparently she's not a big enough bitch in this movie). I was relieved because I thought " thank God no child has to bear witness to this poop club sandwich of a couple. However, they spend a couple of starry nights together. They fall back in love. The Craig's List hit man finds them, only to fuck up all his chances of killing them. (Seriously he has at least 5 chances to just 'shoot' them and misses). They have a final showdown at a rodeo where the whole town comes to their aid. Then finally the bad guy gets hit in the head by a horseshoe and gets knocked out...

I'm going to let that last sentence stew around in the ole brain there for a while...

Then finally the bad guy gets hit in the head by a horseshoe and gets knocked out. And they go onto live back in the city where Sarah is seen having a big belly which we are lead to believe is Hugh's. But for the sake of an even awesomer story, I believe Satan has impregnated her with the anti-Christ. That would hopefully lead to a ridiculously awesome sequel we would eventually call "Breaking Dawn."

So anyways, that is the very first insert into this wonderful Movie Masochists blog. I believe we agreed that at the end of each of these, we would hand off the challenge to the next blogger. So Heath Benfield, I would like to throw down the challenge to you.

The movie: Furry Vengeance

It can't be that bad. It has Brendan Frasier in it.

And with that (shows both hands) I'm out.

-Bill and Cathy's Son