It's human nature to fear the unusual: A critical look at Batman Returns

The inspiration to write a post struck me late at night, and here I sit in the dark attempting to set a record straight and right injustices against a family name, much like Oswald Cobblepot aka The Penguin pouring over birth certificates in the hall of records about a third of the way through Batman Returns. The family name I’m out to defend is that of the Burton Batman films, and this one in particular which as Christopher Walken elegantly puts it “frankly has a bum rep.” Perhaps the conclusions you can draw from the film’s plot itself and the reputation it has are eerily similar. Abandoned at it’s conception by critics and “comic fans” alike, Returns perhaps isn’t nearly as bad as some make it out to be, only misunderstood by those who can’t see past the grotesque exterior. Much like Batman himself, I feel the need to defend something which cannot save itself, and much like Catwoman; the subject matter at hand is too sexy and insane to be revered in the eyes of the public.

Batman 89’, which I might have been too harsh analyzing is still universally respected by critics and comic fans, many of whom are too bitter and jaded to admit that it may very well be a more true-to-form Batman and Joker story than The Dark Knight. Its sequel Returns however, falls prey to several complaints that are almost always the same by anyone criticizing it; which I’ve heard so many times that I’d venture to call them stereotypical critiques. While Batman 89 is decidedly dated at times and often very aged and misguided feeling in parts, I feel like Batman Returns builds and expands on the themes while incasing the story within the austere whimsical world of Tim Burton. I’d go so far as to say that Batman Returns is the most stylistically affected, though not afflicted, film Burton has ever done. This was a director at his peak; and it’s a shame to see how studios lost faith in these macabre visions for a while after this film’s release.

Perhaps one of the biggest faults Returns has, isn’t even to blame on the film itself so much as the untimely and nonsensical summer release. This is a Christmas film through and through, though it explores the darker and less jolly aspects of the holiday. Prevalent arctic themes, tree lightings and even a bittersweet wishing of Merry Christmas on the last line of the film add to the perversion of the holiday across a comic book landscape.

But wait…one of the main complaints about the movie is that it’s not a very good comic book film and it’s bogged down by being too unrealistic. Ask yourself for a moment if ANY film with a man dressing up like a bat, a woman dressing up like a cat and a man called “the penguin” can ever be interpreted as true-to-life and that argument goes out the window. Perhaps you’re looking for the hyper realism served up in The Dark Knight. You might notice that every moment the most whimsical and unrealistic character, The Joker, who seems to bend the laws of space and time with his all-too-convenient plans is not on screen. Compare that to the romantic arc in Batman Returns. Batman and Catwoman are enemies but Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne are potentially lovers. Upon realizing each other’s identity for the first time, the immediate question posed is “do we start fighting?” This is a great way to delve into the psychological aspect of Batman. He’s often conflicted in his best moments by circumstances that make him want to give up his crusade; times when he’ll rise to the occasion and prove himself to be the true hero that he is. If you're questioning the scene where he kills a thug with dynamite you might as well question the scene where he levels Axis chemicals with explosives in 89', and also take into account that Bob Kane's Batman smoked a pipe and carried a gun. You have to wonder if Bruce meant what he said when he took off his cowl at the end of Returns and asked Selina to come away with him, or if he already knew she would never attempt to lead a “normal” life. Compare this to when Bruce wants to give up being Batman as a result of Rachel being DEAD in The Dark Knight. It makes for an excellent Batman arc…which contradicts how a lot of people say this isn’t a “Batman film.”

Isn’t the whole point of Batman the idea that he’s like an urban legend that strikes fear into the heart of his enemies? Batman isn’t going to flaunt around in every scene. That takes away a crucial element of mystery. Besides, he had his origin story in Batman 89. While the films don’t blend seamlessly given the shrunken scope of Gotham in Returns, you already know this Batman and what he’s capable of. Keaton delivers the same anger-fueled insanity in the role as he does in 89. If you don’t think there’s enough Batman in Returns, ask yourself what more was needed. As opposed to one villain in the first film, now there’s two that are extremely well developed, more so than any others in superhero films with multiple antagonists and there’s more action in this film than just about any of the other Batman films save for 89; all thanks to Batman and his comic book inspired arsenal of gadgets.

People have said that Returns is too dark for a comic book movie, but look at Watchmen on the other end of the spectrum…since when did comic books need to be lighter fare for kids? In addition to bringing comic book movies into the spotlight, 89 also legitimatized them as films for adults and kids alike. Returns knows exactly what it wants to be. It’s not totally stuck in fantasy, but it’s not grounded in realism either. It’s carved out a nice niche for itself in between the campiness of the silver age Batman comics and their outrageous plots and the darkness of its predecessor of a film. Part of the appeal of comic books at the time of their introduction as a graphic medium was the ability to convey the impossible without limitations opening up new kinds of storytelling. Now this is becoming more and more possible thanks to CGI, but it’s great to see a film that was able to set its own standards and create a unique world in the span of roughly 2 hours. It’s just the right blend of black comedy and horror tragedy while still safely under the mantle of Batman.

The iconography of a Batman film is present throughout Returns, often times less in-your-face than it is in the newer films or in 89’. For example: pimping the bat logo. There’s an unforgettably moronic shot in Batman 89 where the Batwing flies past the moon and creates the bat logo. Not only does this defy physics, but it’s superfluous. Even less realistically, the Begins Bat signal is comprised of a prisoner wearing cut rags tied to a searchlight. How about a nice way to tie in the iconic logo and the bat signal without shoving it down our throat like the simple shot of Wayne reading in Returns when the logo shines through the window and he stands up and looks at it. It’s simple. It’s effective. It’s purely badass. Some would say that the shape of the bat signal is too precise…I have to argue, does that matter AT ALL? Like I mentioned before, realism flies out the window period in comic book films, so the logistics of the shape of bat signal are much less relevant than the source of the logo being from a tormented Arkham escapee or an idiotic shot of the batwing blocking the moon. Also part of the Batman iconography in addition to the obvious batsuit, is the Batmobile. While the design of the Batmobile is introduced in 89, the scenes with it are a bit unceremonious and don’t really show off the sleek awesomeness of the vehicle to its full potential. There’s something very “constructed” and fake about it as it cruises through the streets tipping fruit stands. In Returns, it’s a viable threat when it’s under the penguins control, driving recklessly through streets and smashing cars at top speed. Then in one of the single greatest and most innovative comic book movie moments I can think of, the Batmobile splits off the sides into the “Batmissile” to squeeze through a narrow gap between two buildings. It’s this same kind of enthusiasm you see in the “Batpod” scene of The Dark Knight that really makes the truck chase scene stand out. It’s Batman being one step ahead, and ready for anything.

Which brings me to refute another fault of the film, is that The Penguin isn’t a credible threat to Batman. Physically, he never was, and never should be, even in comics. The appearance of the character, deformed physically and mentally in Burton’s vision immediately creates a more formidable presence than anything prior in the comics or other adaptations. The audience fears the Penguin. He admonishes the viewer for treating him differently. First invoking feelings of fear, then pity, and then feelings of hate, the same cycle of emotions that Shreck and the other denizens of Gotham feel towards Penguin in the film. Batman, ever-vigilant is never scared of The Penguin because he knows what he has to do to stop him. Despite his confidence, The Penguin still manages to nearly kill Batman several times in the film, including the Batmobile bomb, an umbrella gun at the end and with the penguin commandos.

One of my friends in particular, a fellow Batman enthusiast faults the film the most for the inclusion of the “penguin commandos” aka live penguin army that lives in the sewer and eventually waddles into the streets of gotham with rocket launchers strapped to their backs while responding to a frequency signal. I think given the absurd nature of the rest of the film, this fits in pretty well. With every failed attempt, the Penguin continues to get angrier and angrier at Batman until he goes to an extreme which he’s clearly had in reserve for a long time coming. This is every bit as dangerous, if not more so than the Joker spraying the city with laughing gas from parade balloons or say…fear toxin in the water supply. If anything I would say that this is slightly more believable than those. If you’re asking how penguin could have possibly acquired the resources, then you also have to ask yourself how The Joker is able to employ Police Officers in The Dark Knight and plant a bomb inside of an inmate while unarmed inside of a holding cell. There’s certain things you just have to accept because like it or not…Batman is still based on a comic book, and like I said earlier, comic books serve to tell stories in a visually appealing way which you couldn’t find elsewhere. As Returns plays out like a big screen comic complete with it’s own artistic style, taking the penguin commando army in stride should be easy to get past after the first five minutes of seeing a baby eat a cat and get tossed into a sewer. At worst you can laugh at these “lighter” deaths and at best you can build a hatred of The Penguin’s pathetic character. The pathos are all there. I would say that there’s less suspension of disbelief involved in frequency controlled penguins than Doc Ock controlling tentacles with his “brain chip” in Spiderman 2…or even the concept of a Spider bite giving someone super powers. I don’t see how it could be difficult to accept, especially in a universe as absurd as Batman’s.

So I’ve written a lot now trying to defend Returns from various possible criticisms (Why do people always bring tomatoes to speeches?) but what sets it apart from the rest? I can safely say that personally, as a lifelong Batman fan, Returns may be the most enjoyable Batman film to me. While for nostalgic reasons, The Dark Knight is still the most fun I ever had with a film given all the hype surrounding the release, Returns is worth a watch if you can overlook the lack of Nolan.

It’s the perfect mix of comic Batman characters with elements of movies ranging from comedy to horror. The suit is there. The tech is certainly there (remote controlled batarang anyone?). The action sequences are tight and well edited. On top of that, it also has my personal favorite musical score of all time for a film. Dark brooding, moody circus music perfectly fits the character of the Penguin and the slinky, screeching effects suit Catwoman’s character very well. Elfman also expands on the already great Batman theme from 89 and mixes the best cues when Batman is on screen with heightened versions of the Penguin suite when the characters are intercut on screen (such as the pursuit of the penguin through the sewers in the third act).

Speaking of the pursuit scene…out of all the secondary bat vehicles introduced in the third act of the Batman films (Batplane, Batwing, Bat sub, Batpod, Bat…sled…) the Batskiboat which narrowly dodges wayward missiles from Penguin Commandos is by far the coolest and most practical. There’s this great overwhelming presence of the absurd in Batman Returns, but the subject matter is so dark (I’ve heard people compare the film to an inkwell) that it’s hard to laugh at it. I think it’s a great mix for a Batman movie. It’s sad, often poignant at times, but also tends to feel like a sitcom akin to the 1966 Batman show crossed with the Addam’s Family. It’s a perfect cross between darkness and camp…beauty and the beast if you will.

One of the greatest scenes in the film is the death of the Penguin. After he has supposedly fallen to his watery grave through glass, he emerges dripping blood and bile from the water behind Batman, in one final attempt to kill him. He reaches for an umbrella, and accidentally "picks a cute one" before collapsing needing a "cold drink of ice water." Hated by everyone his entire life, in his death, the penguins emerge from the corners of his sewer lair and drag him into the water to sink to the bottom. It's touching, bizarre even to Batman, who watches the procession unfold. The music is powerful, sad and extremely fitting. It's incredible to see an incredibly humanizing and tragic end to a character that is so easy for most people to hate throughout the film.

Rather than just elude to the accepted truths of the Batman mythos like the super-urban high tech current films, grim to the core, I think Batman Returns is a good superhero film that’s certainly worth watching again if you feel like it’s “stupid” or not a “batman film.” I wish I could have spent more time praising the nuances in Devito’s performance or the greatness of Catwoman’s role in this film as the only truly well written female character in the Batman series’, but the pitiful legacy Returns has acquired among comic fans made this more of a crusade to set the record right. Though I would hardly call myself a Returns apologist…as there’s nothing to be sorry for. This is an excellent film.

"Come what may...Merry Christmas Mr. Wayne..."

"Merry Christmas Alfred. Goodwill toward men. And women."

THE DEATH OF OSAMA. THE EGGMCFUCK. THE THORCUPS. GREAT TRIUMPHS FOR AMERICA!

I don’t normally write posts that don’t relate to some kind of movie or fast food product, but this has been a helluva week so I feel like I need to attempt to organize my thoughts into some kind of poignant ramble for the sake of posterity. Where were YOU on the day of the Royal Wedding No one cares; dumb Brits. Get a divorce and settle for a bazillion dollars then throw cash on the streets. But now…where were you when they SHOT BIN LADEN IN THE FUCKING EYE? Why I was out celebrating with the rest of the good ol’ citizens of America. I’m not one for blatant jingoistic sentiment, but my excitement built up over the course of Sunday night until it hit critical mass. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to pet Obama’s head so badly. Perhaps I should slow down. I wouldn’t want to forget to mention the Thorcups.

Then it was time to celebrate active hater of my blog, Tyler Lopachin’s 21st birthday. We went to a couple bars, and by the time we walked into a second one, some rowdy Boston peasants were telling us that they got Osama…it was just uphill from there. I ended up spending the night hanging out with a friend at emerson watching the developments on the television and rejoicing in the death of a terrorist. We blew up the Death Star. We destroyed the T-1000. We won the Nascar 500. It was a collective victory. Pretty soon people were busting out the Charlie Sheen chants. I decided the time was right in the morning. It was time for the Egg Mcfuck at Dunkin.

I don’t really remember how good it was because I was coming down from “euphoria” but I remember really appreciating the tiny specks of pepper. The bread tasted like sex. I guess. I don’t know. I’ve eaten a lot more bread than I’ve had sex, so I might have to draw a more normal comparison somewhere.

Did I mention that I finally got the giant fucking Thor cups? I think I went to around ten 7-11's trying to find them. Did I succeed? Yeah I did. We drank out of them after haggling with some dumbass 7-11 employees who thought we were trying to con them out of slurpees the night of THOR at midnight. Which was pretty entertaining actually. I’d give it a solid B.

I’d give this post a solid C. It’s far too normal.

I'M KINDA EXCITED TO SEE THOR

Hark! The title bestowed upon this blog post was so obvious an old man and a fool could have agreed upon it. This entry shall here by be wrote in the tongue of the Norseman and the mighty Anthony Hopkins. Upon the rumblings of April, the heavens of Asgard opened and struck the world with Thor-mania. Odin looked upon his work and proclaimed it was good. 7-11 was among the first of puny human establishments to fall to the might of the mjolnir. Thou dare visit 7-11 upon multiple happenstance to exchange currency for thine mighty Thor Slurpees? Nay. Surely you jest Loki! I jest not. Thou hath consumeth now a trifle short of four Thor Slurpees, with the number equivalent to three.

Be there a flavor of god nector flavored with the scent of the maiden Natalie Portman or Thor Sweat, my attempts to find it have been met with failure. I have filled my goblet and drank well of COCA COLA and CHERRY FLAVORED slurpees emblazoned with the thor crests of advertising.

The first thing mere mortals may notice about the goblets is they are adorned with the lenticular motion patterns of hammer-tossing. Atop the perch of the ...lid...rests a mighty statue of a god or foe or Asgard for children drinking the slurpee to devlope idol worship upon. They will cling to these miniature talismans of the mighty Marvel franchise for the rest of their pathetic lives, spiting their foolish parents who try to make them believe the heroic avenger's golden locks are but myth.

So far in my travels thou has exchanged around a grand total of around ten dollars of human currency for thor related slurpee trinket, now posessing resuable plastic cups and straws with the manly visage of Thor, Loki and the evil fire breathing destroyer. Tis a grand bargain and cause for celebration surely!

What could improve perhaps these glorious tokens of asgard? Why of course the jolly liquid known as VODKA. Nave, coward and god alike shall walk the streets swinging hammers with reckless abandon under it's spell with Thor slurpees posessing more spikes than the armor of thee destroyer!

Having enjoyed them to maximum godly potential now, I still require one more cup and miniature ho figurine to have them all. The marking spell of Odin is absolute. So I will soon pound my fist upon the countertop of 7-11 yelling for ANOTHA!

Fuck that hamburger with peppers and cheese and make it your bitch

More specifically STEAKHOUSE burger because Burger King has to be pretentious like that. This is also a record for the most profane/badass title I've ever used for an entry. Well I suppose I'm endorsing a badass product so it's fitting. If Burger King comes back at me for "slandering" their pristine and child-friendly reputation, I'll return their burger...on their...shoes.

So much like the "Egg Mcfuck" Dunkin Donuts has been touting with marquis-sized posters for the past month or so, I've been haunted by the giant advertisements for the JALAPENO AND CHEDDER STUFFED STEAKHOUSE BURGER for a while now and I've been putting off spending the six bucks (though it might as well be 4 bucks because their fries are fuckin unbearable) to cover it for all my loyal koolaide drinking followers. Well I guess if I had a cult they'd all be eating double downs and drinking Shamrock Shakes.


On the first bite, the peppers come on kind of strong. Like going for third base in the middle of a movie theater or something. I'll admit that was a strange analogy but the first thing I tasted was pepper. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but I'm pleased to admit that this one gets better the more you devour like a mountain lion. I didn't want the damn thing to end, which is about as big a compliment as I can award any fast food burger. Now I'm starting to think if I wanted to be a real cretin, I could combine two of these bastards and make a bowel-murdering double stacker of pepper.

The cheese element is pretty minimal, but they make up for it with greens and reds (by that I mean vegetables) and a slathering of some kind of house spread. Burger king has become fond of that. You'll notice the bun is serrated. I'm not sure how I feel about this. Are they implying this is more than a typical burger bun? Is there some kind of hidden reference here?

So, suprisingly, I really liked this one. More than the Whiplash Whopper, but then again, I didn't get to feel like Mickey Rourke when I ate it so there is something of a trade off. Not my favorite fast food item of all time (a list I've been thinking of making for a while now...like my own artery blocking oscars) but this one is really solid. The peppers seem to diminish after the first minute or so and you slip into just being sort of high off the flavor.

Wait...am I seriously reviewing this? Am I actually giving CULINARY review? My god someone stop me. When I say I do "food reviews" I mean it in a rhetorical sense.

Stay tuned for the FUCKING THOR SLURPEE POST.

Blogging out of boredom, but how can you be bored with Ketchup packets that open TWO WAYS?

I think the title of the entry is pretty self explanatory. I caught some heat from dumbass readers after the last entry who apparently didn't read the rules before showing up to my party. Yes I'm kind to the few fans that I have. I kind of feel like Mel Gibson in the Beaver right now. If you haven't seen the trailer you should probably look it up before doing anything else in your life...including going to the bathroom and evacuating the Thor slurpees you just drank.

I'm starting to come to the harsh realization that this blog has devolved into little more than an epic retelling of my encounters with shitty fast food product extraordinaire. I use the word "shitty" in the loosest sense.

So while I haven't ever blogged about the 7th wonder of the world known as "Chick Fil A", you should know for the sake of posterity and to give you context for this entry, that I consider it a holy place. Chick Fil A is about as close as I come to tangible proof of a higher power. Milkshakes. Nuggets. A motif of terrified cows holding up poorly worded signs. Waffle fries (which are referenced in Unforgivable no less). Yes they have pretty much everything. But now they've rolled out with something that you couldn't have possibly guessed they'd roll out with next. Like if you HAD to find something wrong with Chick Fil A as you were stuffing your face with those nuggets did you ever think to yourself "I wish these ketchup packets weren't so goddamn small?" I mean I guess it's sort of a loaded question because who in their right mind goes to Chick Fil A and uses KETCHUP with the advent of Honey Mustard and goddamn Ranch? Their buffalo sauce is almost too pungent for me. I feel like I'm talking to myself now, but that's ok because no one reads these anyway.

Well maybe you'd be inclined to use more ketchup if they didn't have those single bite ketchup packets that you have to go through the trouble to squeeze out onto your food in concentration camp sized portions. You know the ones I mean...just about every greedy corporate fast food joint uses them.

Feast your eyes, assholes.


You dip it! You squeeze it! Go all out! Go apeshit! Throw a party! Huff some glue!

Words can't even describe this kind of thing at first. "Galactic" is one of the first adjectives called to mind. Celestial perhaps. Cosmic Annihilation. Tiny reservoirs of Catsup that open on two ends. You live in America. You have choices. Important choices. You can't open it two ways McGruber, which way is it going to be?

In the interest of...science, I opened one packet of each. Normally I wouldn't even be using Ketchup...shits for peasants but it needed to be explored. There's a lot more here in fluid ounces than there is in the tiny ass single squeeze packets. I'm not sure since I didn't actually do the math but there must be at least three times the quantity.


I'm thinking that I actually prefer them as dipping sauce rather than squeezing sauce. I mean, you're used to squeezing the ketchup. In fact I feel like the squeezing end was only included for the purists. If you're not stuck in a rut with an old world mindset, you might as well dunk the every living shit out of those nuggets in the ketchup vat. Baptisms await your chicken strip combo meals...

It's really a shame that Chick Fil A makes you politely request their sauce packets instead of just letting you take as many as you want, but I guess that makes sense since people like me would abuse the system and take enough honey mustard and ranch (and now ketchup) packets to fortify a fallout shelter. I guess it's smart marketing. Leaves you coming back for more. Isn't it funny how much better everything tastes that you could buy in a store when it is physically served to you by a submissive human being?

Still building up to Thor Slurpees. More to come.

DISAPPOINTMENT COMES IN GREEN

I was actually in the process of writing a pretty intense blog entry rich with thematic content and what not which I’d been struggling to find for days when I passed someone on the street that required my IMMEDIATE ATTENTION. Sometimes you just have to drop everything and start writing that instant or you lose the spark. You know…the spark of the urge…to write about like fast food stuff. It works for me pretty well. Perhaps in the immediate future I will be able to continue my TOUR DE BLOG but for now there is more pressing business than personal litanies. There are mountains. There are Mountain Dews. Then there are Mountain Dew Coolatas.

Apparently I’m an ignoramus because I’m note quite sure what the difference between a Coolata and a Slurpee is when the question is thrown in my expert direction. I just had the Thor Slurpee the other day (which is good enough to get ANOTHA) but I feel like since that’s not green, it’s not quite as pressing to write about. So Coolatas are essentially Slurpees with more tiny little pieces of ice inside. I’ve gone so far as to google this topic. The celebration of Autism Awareness Month continues over here at Sober Valley Lodge. Look at how disappointingly un-green this shit is.

And it tasted poorly too. I almost vomited on slumbering homelessmen passing by. Quite possibly the only coolata I’ve never finished. Disappointment can’t even begin to describe it. It’s like the day I found out that Russel Crowe passed away. I don’t have much else to say about it except that it wasn’t very sweet and doesn’t get my high marks all around the scrabble board. Maybe I should invest in coffee.

I hope this holds all the hoards of readers over until I write the big long epic one or whatever.

My trip to Tijuana

I really wanted to write an inspiring blog, chock full of thematic weight and revolutionary ideas. That’s a work in progress though, and I’ll allow you to believe I have something up my sleeve that will leave you coming back on a daily basis waiting for the instructions to the first phase of Project Mayhem. In the meantime I wanted to eek out a quickie if for no greater reason than to have done something at least mildly productive for the week. I don’t think one blawg poast a week is too much to ask do you? Anyway as I’m biding my time thinking of lengthier, tear-inducing entries I wanted to write about an incredible voyage I took this week.

In the past year I’ve been struggling with the concept of being a racial minority for the second time in my life. Here in East Boston, I’d say if you don’t speak Spanish you’re fucked. Thankfully, not only do I speak nominal Spanish, but I also hoof it from my house to the T stop any time I’m actually caught outdoors. Got to avoid that sunlight right? But every time I pass by Maverick Square I must pause….the smell…it’s fondling my face with gigantic Mexican hands. It’s the awe inspiring smell of Pollo Campero. I’ve long been putting off a trip to the place, but then the cosmos aligned and the moment was right for inevitable showdown with fate. (I always get funny looks taking pictures of shit in fast food establishments)

I walked into Tijuana. It was like Platform 9 and 3/4ths straight into Mexico. Not a single word of English other than those loudly blurted out by me were uttered in the place. Not even an attempt at it. Upon googling Pollo Campero, it’s like an immersion project being tested in the United States; it’s not even a wide released fast food chain! Upon looking at the menu I discovered it was almost identical to the mcdonalds in the same block, except with Chicken Burritos. The choice of what to get was painfully obvious, though I did have to place my order about 37 times before the translation was successful and the burrito was launched into the deep fryer. I’m treading on thin ice with this blog I think. The truth must be told though.

(the proof)

Here’s the real kicker. Inside there was a little old Chinese man (like the shopkeeper in Gremlins) selling pirated DVDs inside slipcases. Like NEW releases. He was going around cat calling to people and getting them to come over and look at his pile, right behind the counter of the restaurant. I had to comically rub my eyes a few times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. No other establishment in the world would allow that to fly. Nowhere. Well, having missed out on the new horror flick Insidious in theaters the other day, I flipped through his stack. Five bucks for a brand new film that’s still in theaters really isn’t a bad deal. He even had Sucker Punch, quite possibly the most offensive turd that’s been flung at the pictures business since Catfish. I politely passed on his wares, but I don’t think I can unsee what I saw. Cheap deeveedees….new ones…I might have to journey back South of the Border and take my business to the movie peddler. No wonder the Blockbuster next door went out of business.

bedebedebede that's all folks