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Freddy Got Fingered (2001)
The beauty of Tom Green (if you’ll cal it such) works in the realm of television. His bizarre humor and meddling nuisance on the streets worked in a “Can’t believe he’s doing this” way. He thrives in this environment where he can wreck havoc amongst the unknowing. Take him out of this environment into a scripted venture where people are acting against him, and the reality is killed along with why it was funny in the first place. It’s not so much funny that Tom Green can hump dead animals on camera, it’s so much funny that he’ll do it in front of bystanders.
As it stands, Freddy Got Fingered is plot-less. It is basically Green doing one weird and bizarre antic after another with little relation to anything. It’s basically a meandering mess, almost like an abstract artist’s work if that artist were insane. Freddy Got Fingered is Green’s attempt at cinematic gross-out stardom. Sure, he does things that would be considered in poor taste but they are scripted and lose their appeal. Green guts an animal and wears its skin like a poncho, he bites the umbilical cord of a birth, he even eroticises a horse and aids in its… release. But all the charm is gone when it’s Green just doing zany things in a closed environment. What is the fun of seeing people do scripted reactions to Green’s antics? He needs to be in the real world, he needs to piss people off, he NEEDS reality. A movie will do no justice to Tom Green and this one surely does not.
Nate’s Grade: F
Reviewed 20 years later as part of the “Reviews Re-View: 2001” article.
Whipped (2000)
The ailing problems with Whipped aren’t with its inept acting, writing, and direction, though those do add up. The true problem is that Whipped isn’t just a bad movie as say Battlefield Earth; no my friends, Whipped is a viciously ugly movie, the type of which that force you to take an hour long shower afterwards.
The story of Whipped unspools over a familiar diner with four friends bantering over female conquests, misogynistic games and chest pounding, and general nastiness. Our core of characters the usual stereotypes with the supposedly sensitive one, the yuppie Wall Street kid, the playa’ etc. Writer/director Peter M. Cohen tries his darnedest to raise eyebrows with vulgarity and raunch, but minus any wit, just making it seem shallow and inane, which is a perfect description of Whipped in any kind of masochistic nutshell.
The three guys eventually fall head over heels for the same woman in Amanda Peet. Eventually these crass individuals all learn some kind of lesson when Peet plays each of them for the same kicks the men derive. Is this supposed to be a feminist statement in the end of a movie so full of hatred for women that it could have been In the Company of Men minus the quality? Whipped is billed to expose the politics of dating but what it perceives as breaking new ground and insights in dating we all learned many years ago, some of it on the schoolyard playground.
Whipped has such ugly contempt for basically anything living as we carry along with the four pathetic human examples. The humor is dead-on-arrival and horribly bad. The acting is so amateurish. Yet Cohen gets the worst for his flat and lifeless direction.
Whipped may prove not to be the worst movie of this year already full of its fair share of bad, but I defy anyone to discover a film that is more ugly, spiteful, and horribly uncomfortable to sit through.
Nate’s Grade: F
The Mod Squad (1999)
There are some movies out there that you simply can’t stop yourself from scratching your head and wondering how it ever got made in the first place. Some movies so horrible that you ponder what any big suited executives were thinking. Well folks, The Mod Squad is one of those movies.
It’s the cinematic updating of the Vietnam era show epitomizing the rebellion against authority and suppression by the Boomers like only Aaron Spelling can. I’m convinced that if you pay adequate attention to the plot you will actually lower your intelligence but don’t hold me to it. It’s only a theory, I still need the tests to come back. This basically is nothing more than a watered down 90-minute jeans ad. “Oooh, look at those jeans Claire Danes shoots up in! I wonder if they have them in a size 30 waist?”
This is one of those movies I seriously can’t find anything remotely good to mention. Though I’m trying to get it all out of my head as quickly as humanly possible. I feel sickened by this poison MGM has thrown out to the masses. I remember the last time Generation X & Y tried looking back nostalgically and enviously on the Boomer’s playground. It was called Woodstock ’99. Anyone care to remember what happened there?
Nate’s Grade: F







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