I had this post started a week ago. The anecdote was ready to go, and I thought it was going to be a great setup that would be interesting, and maybe even a little humorous at times. But then I realized....
...I already told that story.
Sure, maybe I could jazz it up a bit, present it in a new and exciting way, but honestly, I couldn't pull the trigger. Yeah. The past is the past, but there's nothing worse than doing a shittier version of something you did years back. It's in this moment that I realized that not only am I running out of ideas, but this format I've created for myself? It may indeed be choking the life out of me.
Good thing I'm not the only one.
Outside of a few jump scares and a general sense of what the f--k is going on here?, I was bored out of my skull during M. Night Shyamalan's latest horror/comedy flick, The Visit. And this is coming from a person genuinely happy just to be near a movie theater, let alone f--king inside one. Well, not f--king inside one, but...nevermind - you know what I mean.
Clearly ol' M. Night is taking everything less seriously these days, which I support wholeheartedly, but this found-footage flick needed an edge. Or something. The setup is laughably absurd, the performances peak at not terrible, and the patented surprise ending made me wish I was dead people. And that's without mentioning all the white-kid freestyle rapping, for f--k's sake.
If you haven't heard (lucky!), The Visit is about two teenage siblings heading to their grandparents house...for the first time ever. For a week. Many years ago, their mom had a falling out with her folks, so these wascally wabbits decide to get to the bottom of this family squabble and document the entire thing. Sounds like a perfectly acceptable plan, right? Right.
Well, it might have been, except for the fact that ol' Nana and Pop-pop aren't exactly camera-ready, if you know what I mean. Turns out Nana is a f--king lunatic, prone to walking around in her own vomit when she's not scurrying around like a coke-fueled, underwater spider. And Pop-pop, when he isn't trying to (rightfully) kill himself, is busy collecting the nastiest shit ever. No really, he collects shit. I wasn't being clever.
Perhaps if I hadn't been feeling like ass, hadn't gone alone, or wasn't just a joyless dickhole, I would have had a decent time with The Visit. Some people in the theater seemed to really enjoy themselves, audibly gasping again and again. Not me, however, as this film was yet another reminder of how far the mighty have fallen. Shyamalan's early work, for me, seemed to speak of a master storyteller, capable of creating entire world's filled with somber beauty. Here, it's crass and stupid, and quite literally, a steaming face full of shit.
Which reminds me, here are the Yays and Boos!
Apparently this was shot on a pretty modest budget, and was Shyamalan's attempt at getting back artistic control.
Hmm, working for nothing but getting to call the shots...and still ending up with another soul-crushing failure?
Good thing I'm not the only one.
...I already told that story.
Sure, maybe I could jazz it up a bit, present it in a new and exciting way, but honestly, I couldn't pull the trigger. Yeah. The past is the past, but there's nothing worse than doing a shittier version of something you did years back. It's in this moment that I realized that not only am I running out of ideas, but this format I've created for myself? It may indeed be choking the life out of me.
Good thing I'm not the only one.
Clearly ol' M. Night is taking everything less seriously these days, which I support wholeheartedly, but this found-footage flick needed an edge. Or something. The setup is laughably absurd, the performances peak at not terrible, and the patented surprise ending made me wish I was dead people. And that's without mentioning all the white-kid freestyle rapping, for f--k's sake.
If you haven't heard (lucky!), The Visit is about two teenage siblings heading to their grandparents house...for the first time ever. For a week. Many years ago, their mom had a falling out with her folks, so these wascally wabbits decide to get to the bottom of this family squabble and document the entire thing. Sounds like a perfectly acceptable plan, right? Right.
Well, it might have been, except for the fact that ol' Nana and Pop-pop aren't exactly camera-ready, if you know what I mean. Turns out Nana is a f--king lunatic, prone to walking around in her own vomit when she's not scurrying around like a coke-fueled, underwater spider. And Pop-pop, when he isn't trying to (rightfully) kill himself, is busy collecting the nastiest shit ever. No really, he collects shit. I wasn't being clever.
 |
| I took a picture of the guy sitting next to me in the theater. (Yeah, our theater's pretty run down) |
Which reminds me, here are the Yays and Boos!
 |
| I too contacted my mom to get me the Hell outta there. |
Yaaaaaaay!
- Even though I couldn't shake the fact that she looked like Ana Gasteyer's younger sister, I could appreciate that every time Kathryn Hahn showed up Skypeing to her kids, it was oddly...booberiffic. Uh, Mom, your...uh, tits?
- Ah, 30th St. Station. Even though I don't live in Philly anymore, I really enjoyed seeing this place on film. Wait, it's actually because I don't live in Philly anymore, I enjoy seeing this place because f--k all that traffic.
- I maybe, just maybe, smiled at that Amtrak Guy. That running gag was kinda charming...I'll admit.
- I mentioned that Nana does some weird shit, right? Well, she does (bitch is cuh-razy). But, one time, I'm pretty sure she was making raptor noises, and f--k me, that's fantastic.
- Even though I kind of hate them, there were some pretty f--king rad (and cheap) jump scares. Two of the three got me good, and last I checked that ain't bad.
- Oh, I love a good game of Yahtzee. Not, like, shit-your-pants love, but pretty close.
- And finally, even though it's entirely ridiculous, there's a good bit at the end where it all just kind of hits the fan. I think the bit with the refrigerator door, even if I was wishing that were my head, was a nice way to close the gooey bits, you know?
Boooooooooooooo!
- F--k off The Visit, as like five minutes in we're told that at Nana and Pop-pops? Yeah, there's no cell service. Shit, I think even in The Village I got two bars.
- The brother, the little lispy turd that he is, just so happens to be a total germaphobe. Will this ultimately matter? Depends.
- Oh, and speaking of this annoying a-hole, for some godforsaken reason, he is a freestyle rapper. No, I really wish I weren't kidding, but someone actually signed off on the idea that this f--ker gets to rap on more than one one occasion. It was so groan-inducing, it made me want to punch Macklemore in his cock-a-doodle doo, sir.
- Bed time is at 9:30. That sucks, but I've been there. Worse? They go on an ill-fated cookie run. Even worse? Been there, too. (and I almost killed my grandmother's precious cat in the process)
- We get arguably the worst under the porch scene in the history of cinema. Fine, maybe the only under the porch scene, but f--k you, it still qualifies as the worst one ever.
- Which leads to...Nana's asscheek. Again.
- Here's the awful routine in this movie: 1) unimaginably f--ked up thing happens. 2) Vague response, reiterating well, they're old people. 3) Total acceptance. 4) Audience hates life.
- Nana gets cookie dough stuck all over the webcam. Yep, that's what I told my wife it was, too. Cookie dough.
- The whole Can you get inside my oven...to clean it shit was sooooo stupid. The first time. The second? No, Becca. Don't do it! LET ME.
- There's this random football story that made me wish I had a concussion. Or was a Raiders fan. Honestly, it's possibly the most pointless thing...in a found-footage movie.
- Lil' Brother freaks out when there aren't any tissues. Freaks. Out. Nana's scratching the walls like a f--king cat in heat, but the lack of Kleenex really ruffles his feathers.
- Finally, FINALLY, the kids get in touch with mom and demand YOU GOTTA COME GET US! Her response? Do you know how long that'll take me?
- Oh, man. The twist. I can't believe I didn't see it coming.
- And finally, unless I missed it, I don't think M. Night made a cameo in this one. Really, dude? Are your movies so bad even you don't want to appear on screen? Say it ain't so!
Apparently this was shot on a pretty modest budget, and was Shyamalan's attempt at getting back artistic control.
Hmm, working for nothing but getting to call the shots...and still ending up with another soul-crushing failure?
Good thing I'm not the only one.