Thursday, April 18, 2002

100 Girls (2001)

So many things I wish to say about this movie. So many ways to start in on this review. Yet, no way would seem more appropriate to nail down my reaction to this film than to quote the film's female lead:

SWEET LEAPING CHRIST.

Two motherfucking F-grade films in one week! Why on earth do I subject myself to this shit? Why is it that when I get an early warning sign, like the one I got not three minutes past the credits when the lead character compared his growing erection to a bag of frickin' Jiffy Pop AND THEN WE GET AN ACCOMPANYING VISUAL, I don't have the good sense to bail out and watch something else? Am I really this goddamn masochistic? I swear to God, this horrid piece of offal had to have been written by a dirty-minded eight-year-old. A person smart enough to make it to adulthood without swallowing too many marbles simply could not have concocted this hideous four-headed mutant of a movie. (If you think the above Jiffy-Pop comparison is bad, you ain't seen nothing -- this film sets a land-speed record for crappy similes.) And there wasn't even any decent femme nudity to balance things out. I've had puking episodes that were more fun than this.

Grade: F