Post by Sprague Dawley on Apr 22, 2020 0:00:59 GMT
Channel surfed across this one. Hey, wasn’t this kind of a big deal? Gave it a burl.
First thing I notice is that the dialogue seems to have been written by a disgruntled 12-year old girl who has no friends. Except that one “cool” girl who she thinks is her friend because the cool girls gaze fell on her for a beat long in the lunchroom that one day but she’s actually really fucking not her friend at all.
The pacing of the film and “scene placement” (technical term) is so fucken clunky you can almost imagine right where the director said “cut, that’s a wrap!, holy shit this cartoon shithole of a film is so goddamn awesome, I luv u all!”
The film just chops around from battle to battle then it ends. RT gives this film 27% but I give it 12%. And all 12 of those points are for the blue spangly hot pants. Like a filthy old lech I just followed that tiny band of cloth around for the entire film. Marveled at it. Sought it out in my hour of need, my sequined solace as this shithole of a film lurched to and fro from embarrassingly juvenile talky talk bit to flashy flashy lighty lighty shooty shooty bit before ending with the obligatory set-up for the sequel.
Headfirst, straight to hell, in a handbasket.
In all the handbaskets.
First thing I notice is that the dialogue seems to have been written by a disgruntled 12-year old girl who has no friends. Except that one “cool” girl who she thinks is her friend because the cool girls gaze fell on her for a beat long in the lunchroom that one day but she’s actually really fucking not her friend at all.
The pacing of the film and “scene placement” (technical term) is so fucken clunky you can almost imagine right where the director said “cut, that’s a wrap!, holy shit this cartoon shithole of a film is so goddamn awesome, I luv u all!”
The film just chops around from battle to battle then it ends. RT gives this film 27% but I give it 12%. And all 12 of those points are for the blue spangly hot pants. Like a filthy old lech I just followed that tiny band of cloth around for the entire film. Marveled at it. Sought it out in my hour of need, my sequined solace as this shithole of a film lurched to and fro from embarrassingly juvenile talky talk bit to flashy flashy lighty lighty shooty shooty bit before ending with the obligatory set-up for the sequel.
Headfirst, straight to hell, in a handbasket.
In all the handbaskets.