Break into my house and you’ll be telling God the last thing you remember was me and my Glock .40.
http://www.sierratimes.com/03/10/03/rockyd.htm
Politically Incorrect Movie Reviews
The Rundown
By RadioFree Rocky D
Cast:
Dwayne Johnson (Beck) – The Rock in jungle smackdown mode.
Seann William Scott (Travis) – Caucasian Steppin Fetchit.
Rosario Dawson (Mariana) – queen of the sacred minorities.
Christopher Walken (Hatchett) – the evil whitey.
Here’s a first: The Rock on film not doing his patented one-eyebrow-raised gig. The Rundown is a B-movie bonanza with more amusing bone-crunching wallops than a dozen WWE Smackdowns. This guy takes more hits than Robert Downey Jr. at a bong testing party. If you came to see a serious action flick, with a real plot and real characters, you’re out of luck. The Rock spends much of the time glaring right into the camera with a twinkle in his eye as if to say, “Psst! Hey … wanna see me open up a can of whoop, break lots of stuff and put the hurt on everything in sight? Watch this!†So get the HUGE bucket of popcorn, glop on the artery-hardening butter, sit back and let the jungle rumble begin. And should you feel like getting up in the middle of the movie and whacking your date over the head with a folding chair – go for it.
There’s a race on in Hollyweird. No, not the race to see which ahk-tor can repeat the most asinine socialist diatribe; I mean the race to see who will be the heir apparent to the action moo-vee-stah throne, currently occupied by an aging Sylvester “yo†Stallone and Ah-Nold “the Governator†Schwarzenegger. It’s a race between Vin Diesel (he of the tattooed-baldheaded-steroid clan) and The Rock (he of the full-nelson-with-a-sense-of humor clan). Neither one is much of an ahk-tor, but that’s a good thing; because the last thing we need to see is one of these meat-hunks emoooting. So far, my vote goes to The Rock, because even though he recites his lines with all the panache of a NPR announcer, at least I can understand what he says. Besides, The Rock already has more toy action figures on the shelves than Diesel, Ah-nold and Sly put together. On top of that, The Rock is – as Tiger Woods calls himself – “Cablinasian.†That is to say, he’s a little bit of everything: Caucasian, Black, Indian and Asian. So either everybody’s bithcin’ or nobody’s bitchin’.
Tiger got it close, but not quite. Geneticists who are not afraid to be politically incorrect (and that is very few of them) have informed me that there are only three distinctive groups of homosapiens: Caucasoid, Negroid and Mongoloid; i.e., whites, blacks and Asians. Anything else is a mix of two or all three. This lends to plenty of howling and hair pulling from the leftists who make their money by separating everyone according to “race.†The Rock really throws a monkey wrench into the liberal’s racial hiring quota plans. This is a guy who can truly check the “other†box on all government forms.
The PC tumbles out of The Rundown like steroids falling out of Barry Bonds’ locker. The plot itself reeks of PC nonsense. Most of the film takes place in the jungles of Brazil, where a greedy American capitalist (Walken) has built an entire town around his gold mine. Somewhere in the vacinity is the sacred object important to the indigenous people. Naturally the poor, abused and underpaid Brazilian mine workers want the artifact for purely altruistic reasons – they will sell it to a local museum for display and use the money to feed the poor. They are the good guys. The Evil Whitey Capitalist wants it because he is gluttonous and cares nothing about ancient history. He is the bad guy. Even his name is bad – Hatchett. What a hack (insert rimshot here).
The innocent li’l bronze people in South America do not suffer from oppression by communist governments; they suffer from American Imperialist Greed. It is America’s avarice that causes suffering in nations populated by sacred non-Caucasians. I know this, because Hollyweird tells me so.
And why does this mine exist in the first place? To make gold trinkets for hideous wealthy Americans. Not wealthy South Americans, not rich Africans, Middle Easterners, Chinese nor East Indians. Prosperous Americans are the problem. Even the Europeans are off the hook in this one. In fact, the only European in The Rundown is a shiftless Scotsman who flies a ragtag airplane. Last time I saw a Scotsman flying that far out of control, it had something to do with a bottle of Bourbon and a soccer game.
Or course, no slave-laborers are used to make gold teeth, chains and watches for gangsta rappers. Those are made by highly paid diggers.
Personal wealth is a bad thing (Hollyweird excepted). All personal earnings should go to Big Brother Government for redistribution to the less fortunate (Hollyweird excepted). American big business is corrupt and unfair (Hollyweird excepted). I know this, because Hollyweird tells me so.
More PC pops out like an eye-gouge when The Rock states, “I don’t like guns; they take me to a place I don’t wanna go … I pick up a gun and bad things happen.†Where’d that wussy line come from? Who are you, and what have you done with The Rock? Listen you dimwit; you pick up a gun because bad things are happening. Guns are the ultimate self-defense weapons; the great equalizers. Another character says, “I never met an American who didn’t like guns.†Damn straight, Skippy. Break into my house and you’ll be telling God the last thing you remember was me and my Glock .40.
Memo to Hollyweird: Bad guys are only afraid of one thing: Superior Firepower. They are not afraid of your lawyer, they are not afraid of the courts, they are not afraid of you. They are only afraid of being outgunned. It’s a good thing the not-so-great State of Kalifornicate passed all those gun laws, huh? Now there are no shootings in LaLa Land, because gun control has solved the problem. Morons.
Mo’ betta PC smashes out of The Rundown in the character of “Mariana,†a li’l bronze beauty with a perspiration problem and a bad attitude. Her main event in life is to prevent Evil American Whitey from … well … being Evil American Whitey. “Why do we fight? Because of 65¢ an hour, that’s why,†says a defiant Mariana. She, too, wants the prized sacred artifact. She plans on stealing it from her sleazy gringo boyfriend after he finds it – never mind that he did all the research to find it. It’s okay to steal it from him, because he’s a Caucasian and we all know they owe the world … something or other. Even worse, she needs to keep it out of the hands of Christopher Walken – an even mo’ Evil Whitey who will use it to further oppress hapless sacred minorities into slave labor. He’s like Snidley Whiplash with ADHD; “Nyah-ahh-ahhh … uh … what?†This is Hollyweird’s view of American business superiority – that all US business overseas is predicated upon suppression of luckless third world toilers; that the problems of the third world rest squarely upon the shoulders of American establishments.
Bad American businesses! Bad bad bad!
Imagine the squawking from the liberals if Walken’s character had been played by a black man. Nah … who would buy that. The Arab Anti-Defamation League would file suit if the slave driver was a towel-headed tyrant. Nah … that would never happen. Self-proclaimed, so-called “minority†leaders would never abuse the maltreated hoi polloi.
Hey Hollyweird; you ever hear of Idi Amin? Charles Taylor? Saddam Hussein?
There are some fun things to see in The Rundown. Look for the horny monkey brigade – it’ll remind you of a gansta rap video. Look for a 2-second cameo by Ah-nold hisself. Look for Christopher Walken’s hilarious Tooth Fairy speech to a totally clueless tribe of natives. Walken also has the best line: “That’s a lotta cows…†Look for the Notre Dame “Fighting Irish†dashboard dolly in the Scotsman’s plane. Look for the sacred object to turn out to be a bowling trophy with teeth. Look for a really cheaply made CGI quarry matte shot. Ditto for “Hatchet-Town.†Look for cinematic nods to Raiders Of The Lost Ark, Island Of Dr. Moreau (“Are we not men?â€) and Romancing The Stone, among others. Listen for Mariana’s accent to disappear, reappear, then disappear again – hey, it’s not like she auditioned for the part or anything.
Naturally, a film like The Rundown is filled with implausibilities – it relies on them. Such as Walken apparently having no escape plan – but then we wouldn’t be able to see the sacred li’l bronze people get their revenge. Mariana has nice straight white teeth in the middle of the jungle. Just like in the WWE, people take a massive amount of physical punishment and come out with nary a scratch and not a tooth missing. Nobody ever asks the skinny white kid just how he knows where the gold bowling trophy is. The Scotsman walks right into the middle of a battery of gun-toting thugs and lets loose a bagpipe solo and does not get shot – try that in LaLa Land. And where are all the Caucasian Brazilians? Not to mention Mariana looks about as local to Brazil as I do to China. Plus for some reason, there is no South American Army anywhere near the gold mine – trust me; you find gold and somebody’s government will be at your doorstep in a heartbeat. Followed by Al Gore with a brown paper bag.
The Rundown has four of th five Bachelor B’s: Blood, Bashes, Beasts and Bombs. No Breasts. Come on now … Brazil is known for muchos tetas. So what gives here?
Halfway through the film The Rock looks right at the audience and dang near winks, “Yeah, I know this is stupid, but ain’t ya havin’ fun?†And it is fun, if not just to see a roomful of snotty NFL punks get their clock cleaned in a bar fight.
http://www.sierratimes.com/03/10/03/rockyd.htm
Politically Incorrect Movie Reviews
The Rundown
By RadioFree Rocky D
Cast:
Dwayne Johnson (Beck) – The Rock in jungle smackdown mode.
Seann William Scott (Travis) – Caucasian Steppin Fetchit.
Rosario Dawson (Mariana) – queen of the sacred minorities.
Christopher Walken (Hatchett) – the evil whitey.
Here’s a first: The Rock on film not doing his patented one-eyebrow-raised gig. The Rundown is a B-movie bonanza with more amusing bone-crunching wallops than a dozen WWE Smackdowns. This guy takes more hits than Robert Downey Jr. at a bong testing party. If you came to see a serious action flick, with a real plot and real characters, you’re out of luck. The Rock spends much of the time glaring right into the camera with a twinkle in his eye as if to say, “Psst! Hey … wanna see me open up a can of whoop, break lots of stuff and put the hurt on everything in sight? Watch this!†So get the HUGE bucket of popcorn, glop on the artery-hardening butter, sit back and let the jungle rumble begin. And should you feel like getting up in the middle of the movie and whacking your date over the head with a folding chair – go for it.
There’s a race on in Hollyweird. No, not the race to see which ahk-tor can repeat the most asinine socialist diatribe; I mean the race to see who will be the heir apparent to the action moo-vee-stah throne, currently occupied by an aging Sylvester “yo†Stallone and Ah-Nold “the Governator†Schwarzenegger. It’s a race between Vin Diesel (he of the tattooed-baldheaded-steroid clan) and The Rock (he of the full-nelson-with-a-sense-of humor clan). Neither one is much of an ahk-tor, but that’s a good thing; because the last thing we need to see is one of these meat-hunks emoooting. So far, my vote goes to The Rock, because even though he recites his lines with all the panache of a NPR announcer, at least I can understand what he says. Besides, The Rock already has more toy action figures on the shelves than Diesel, Ah-nold and Sly put together. On top of that, The Rock is – as Tiger Woods calls himself – “Cablinasian.†That is to say, he’s a little bit of everything: Caucasian, Black, Indian and Asian. So either everybody’s bithcin’ or nobody’s bitchin’.
Tiger got it close, but not quite. Geneticists who are not afraid to be politically incorrect (and that is very few of them) have informed me that there are only three distinctive groups of homosapiens: Caucasoid, Negroid and Mongoloid; i.e., whites, blacks and Asians. Anything else is a mix of two or all three. This lends to plenty of howling and hair pulling from the leftists who make their money by separating everyone according to “race.†The Rock really throws a monkey wrench into the liberal’s racial hiring quota plans. This is a guy who can truly check the “other†box on all government forms.
The PC tumbles out of The Rundown like steroids falling out of Barry Bonds’ locker. The plot itself reeks of PC nonsense. Most of the film takes place in the jungles of Brazil, where a greedy American capitalist (Walken) has built an entire town around his gold mine. Somewhere in the vacinity is the sacred object important to the indigenous people. Naturally the poor, abused and underpaid Brazilian mine workers want the artifact for purely altruistic reasons – they will sell it to a local museum for display and use the money to feed the poor. They are the good guys. The Evil Whitey Capitalist wants it because he is gluttonous and cares nothing about ancient history. He is the bad guy. Even his name is bad – Hatchett. What a hack (insert rimshot here).
The innocent li’l bronze people in South America do not suffer from oppression by communist governments; they suffer from American Imperialist Greed. It is America’s avarice that causes suffering in nations populated by sacred non-Caucasians. I know this, because Hollyweird tells me so.
And why does this mine exist in the first place? To make gold trinkets for hideous wealthy Americans. Not wealthy South Americans, not rich Africans, Middle Easterners, Chinese nor East Indians. Prosperous Americans are the problem. Even the Europeans are off the hook in this one. In fact, the only European in The Rundown is a shiftless Scotsman who flies a ragtag airplane. Last time I saw a Scotsman flying that far out of control, it had something to do with a bottle of Bourbon and a soccer game.
Or course, no slave-laborers are used to make gold teeth, chains and watches for gangsta rappers. Those are made by highly paid diggers.
Personal wealth is a bad thing (Hollyweird excepted). All personal earnings should go to Big Brother Government for redistribution to the less fortunate (Hollyweird excepted). American big business is corrupt and unfair (Hollyweird excepted). I know this, because Hollyweird tells me so.
More PC pops out like an eye-gouge when The Rock states, “I don’t like guns; they take me to a place I don’t wanna go … I pick up a gun and bad things happen.†Where’d that wussy line come from? Who are you, and what have you done with The Rock? Listen you dimwit; you pick up a gun because bad things are happening. Guns are the ultimate self-defense weapons; the great equalizers. Another character says, “I never met an American who didn’t like guns.†Damn straight, Skippy. Break into my house and you’ll be telling God the last thing you remember was me and my Glock .40.
Memo to Hollyweird: Bad guys are only afraid of one thing: Superior Firepower. They are not afraid of your lawyer, they are not afraid of the courts, they are not afraid of you. They are only afraid of being outgunned. It’s a good thing the not-so-great State of Kalifornicate passed all those gun laws, huh? Now there are no shootings in LaLa Land, because gun control has solved the problem. Morons.
Mo’ betta PC smashes out of The Rundown in the character of “Mariana,†a li’l bronze beauty with a perspiration problem and a bad attitude. Her main event in life is to prevent Evil American Whitey from … well … being Evil American Whitey. “Why do we fight? Because of 65¢ an hour, that’s why,†says a defiant Mariana. She, too, wants the prized sacred artifact. She plans on stealing it from her sleazy gringo boyfriend after he finds it – never mind that he did all the research to find it. It’s okay to steal it from him, because he’s a Caucasian and we all know they owe the world … something or other. Even worse, she needs to keep it out of the hands of Christopher Walken – an even mo’ Evil Whitey who will use it to further oppress hapless sacred minorities into slave labor. He’s like Snidley Whiplash with ADHD; “Nyah-ahh-ahhh … uh … what?†This is Hollyweird’s view of American business superiority – that all US business overseas is predicated upon suppression of luckless third world toilers; that the problems of the third world rest squarely upon the shoulders of American establishments.
Bad American businesses! Bad bad bad!
Imagine the squawking from the liberals if Walken’s character had been played by a black man. Nah … who would buy that. The Arab Anti-Defamation League would file suit if the slave driver was a towel-headed tyrant. Nah … that would never happen. Self-proclaimed, so-called “minority†leaders would never abuse the maltreated hoi polloi.
Hey Hollyweird; you ever hear of Idi Amin? Charles Taylor? Saddam Hussein?
There are some fun things to see in The Rundown. Look for the horny monkey brigade – it’ll remind you of a gansta rap video. Look for a 2-second cameo by Ah-nold hisself. Look for Christopher Walken’s hilarious Tooth Fairy speech to a totally clueless tribe of natives. Walken also has the best line: “That’s a lotta cows…†Look for the Notre Dame “Fighting Irish†dashboard dolly in the Scotsman’s plane. Look for the sacred object to turn out to be a bowling trophy with teeth. Look for a really cheaply made CGI quarry matte shot. Ditto for “Hatchet-Town.†Look for cinematic nods to Raiders Of The Lost Ark, Island Of Dr. Moreau (“Are we not men?â€) and Romancing The Stone, among others. Listen for Mariana’s accent to disappear, reappear, then disappear again – hey, it’s not like she auditioned for the part or anything.
Naturally, a film like The Rundown is filled with implausibilities – it relies on them. Such as Walken apparently having no escape plan – but then we wouldn’t be able to see the sacred li’l bronze people get their revenge. Mariana has nice straight white teeth in the middle of the jungle. Just like in the WWE, people take a massive amount of physical punishment and come out with nary a scratch and not a tooth missing. Nobody ever asks the skinny white kid just how he knows where the gold bowling trophy is. The Scotsman walks right into the middle of a battery of gun-toting thugs and lets loose a bagpipe solo and does not get shot – try that in LaLa Land. And where are all the Caucasian Brazilians? Not to mention Mariana looks about as local to Brazil as I do to China. Plus for some reason, there is no South American Army anywhere near the gold mine – trust me; you find gold and somebody’s government will be at your doorstep in a heartbeat. Followed by Al Gore with a brown paper bag.
The Rundown has four of th five Bachelor B’s: Blood, Bashes, Beasts and Bombs. No Breasts. Come on now … Brazil is known for muchos tetas. So what gives here?
Halfway through the film The Rock looks right at the audience and dang near winks, “Yeah, I know this is stupid, but ain’t ya havin’ fun?†And it is fun, if not just to see a roomful of snotty NFL punks get their clock cleaned in a bar fight.
