As a former frequent flyer of the friendly skies, I've certainly had my share of delays, cancellations and missed flights. They totally sucked at the time (holy shit, now I would kill a bitch for some unaccounted hours), sure, but looking back, there was always a silver lining.
Ten hours in Brussels? Ate a waffle out of a vending machine.
Eight hours in Minneapolis? Rented a DVD player and watched American Pie [so 90s]
Stranded overnight in Honolulu...on Christmas? Ate a burger (and two scoops of rice) on a picnic table. At midnight. With my dad.
But, honestly, I would have traded that greasy burger, Nadia and all the Belgian waffles in the world for one thing, and one thing only:
William H. Macy.
Well, okay, not the actual f--king guy or anything (nice as he may seem), but rather the entire premise of the last film Macy directed, 2017's limp misfire, The Layover.
Enthusiastically pissing in the face of anything resembling women's progress, The Layover tells the story of two impossibly beautiful women, seemingly of the BFF variety, shredding all forms of human decency in an effort to f--k the shit out of a guy with a severely bent dick.
What, that's not what you were expecting? Here's another shocker: I f--king hated every single minute of it.
Once again, my love ofwondrous bosoms Alexandra Daddario ruined what should have been a nice evening, as The Layover fails on every front imaginable. It's boring, stupid, decidedly female ass free, and worst of all, painfully unfunny. I'd rather watch an eighty-eight minute version of a typical in-flight safety video than ever see this bullshit again. Like, please, please Flight Attendant Lady, show me again how to buckle a f--king seat-belt. I totally missed it the first time.
You probably know that I love a bad movie anyway, but you throw the booberrific combo of Kate Upton and Daddario in the mix, and I'm beyond sold. Or, I used to be.
Frankly, I think part of me died during this one. At least a fraction of my general will to continue. Oh sure, if this were 1999 and I had just turned twenty, you would have asked the one question that every guy asked when they heard about a movie like this, but you wouldn't have liked the answer.
Well, of course it sucked, but at least ________ got naked, right? No, Guy Waiting for a High-Five. ________ doesn't get naked. Not for a second. Unless you wanna fill in that blank with Random Jerk.
Speaking of random jerks, might as well trot out the Yays and Boos for this sub ninety-minute epic. As for selecting better movies, we're not really sure where we go from here, honestly. British period pieces? Eye-opening documentaries? Spider-Man 3? We need redemption. And we need it soon. Oh, and boobs, too. If only because that's what got us into this mess in the first place.
...but that it was even possible. Sex? On a plane? Holy shit.
Imagine what they'd do, say, in a hotel, when their flight was cancelled.
Oh, right.
Absolutely nothing.
Ten hours in Brussels? Ate a waffle out of a vending machine.
Eight hours in Minneapolis? Rented a DVD player and watched American Pie [so 90s]
Stranded overnight in Honolulu...on Christmas? Ate a burger (and two scoops of rice) on a picnic table. At midnight. With my dad.
But, honestly, I would have traded that greasy burger, Nadia and all the Belgian waffles in the world for one thing, and one thing only:
William H. Macy.
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| Turn the box over, and all the hardcore scenes are on the back. |
Enthusiastically pissing in the face of anything resembling women's progress, The Layover tells the story of two impossibly beautiful women, seemingly of the BFF variety, shredding all forms of human decency in an effort to f--k the shit out of a guy with a severely bent dick.
What, that's not what you were expecting? Here's another shocker: I f--king hated every single minute of it.
Once again, my love of
You probably know that I love a bad movie anyway, but you throw the booberrific combo of Kate Upton and Daddario in the mix, and I'm beyond sold. Or, I used to be.
 |
| I'll give you four reasons why this movie ever got the greenlight. Five, if you count my boner. |
Well, of course it sucked, but at least ________ got naked, right? No, Guy Waiting for a High-Five. ________ doesn't get naked. Not for a second. Unless you wanna fill in that blank with Random Jerk.
Speaking of random jerks, might as well trot out the Yays and Boos for this sub ninety-minute epic. As for selecting better movies, we're not really sure where we go from here, honestly. British period pieces? Eye-opening documentaries? Spider-Man 3? We need redemption. And we need it soon. Oh, and boobs, too. If only because that's what got us into this mess in the first place.
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| Probably the most inspired bit in this entire movie... ...has a women, covered in shit, rolling around in trash. |
Yaaaaaay!
- I'm just going to assume that wherever the Hell this movie takes place, the jobless and utterly broke can pay their rent with cleavage. Yes, usually unrealistic bullshit is a Boo. But this is some top-shelf decolletage, so I'm gonna let it slide.
- We've all been the last person to our seats on a place before, meaning we've all been forced to ride bitch, right? Right. But just imagine, that once, once in your awful life, that you drag your sorry ass to row 925...and find your seat is between Kate Upton and Alexandra Daddario. I'm not sure if you can vomit when you've got a raging hard-on, but I'm grabbing everyone's air sickness bag just in case.
- Bad movie or not, a car ride singalong is always an enthusiastic Yay. And if the song is Human's League's Don't You Want Me ? It's basically out of my hands.
- As shockingly unfunny as this whole affair is, there is a bit of physical comedy in a disgusting-ass gas station bathroom that actually made me not want to punch a basket of kittens for a second or two.
- The pool scene. It's not great. But it's also not...bad.
- And finally, ladies, all of you, you do like, a million sexy things a day, okay...but that thing where you reach in your dress and adjust your boobs? Get on the podium, girl. That's your anthem they're playing.
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| Uh, this is your captain speaking...the plane is still on the tarmac... ....but my pants have reached a cruising altitude of 39,000 feet. |
Booooooooooo!
- Daddario plays a high school teacher. That all the kids ignore. Maybe I missed the part where it's revealed she works at a school for the blind, deaf and dickless.
- Upton's initial scene has her begrudgingly smearing some sketchy cosmetics on her lips. Uh, Kate. We have the internet, even if it's none of our business, we know you've done worse.
- Seconds before the movie started, BN flashed on the screen. Brief nudity? BRIEF? Initially, this was a crushing blow. But when I saw what that guy's flabby ass for a split second, I was okay with brief. And then, the more I thought about it, I wasn't okay with anything anymore.
- (this is painful) -----------> a note I actually wrote during this film
- Kumar, is that you? Oh, thank God. Kal Penn is in this. Wait. No. No thank God. I like Kal Penn.
- I love a good dance scene. I do. But this? This is a terrible dance scene. Set to even worse music.
- One of our lovely lady has a wardrobe malfunction during the aforementioned dance scene (mid twirl). And let me tell you, the conversation revealing this fact? It was terrible.
- Remember, both of these fine ass ladies want to have sex with the same dude, right? Meaning they have to routinely cooter-block one another. You know, instead of finding any other guy on the planet.
- But then he finally gets one of them. And they do it like dogs in the street. (Hold up, that's not fair to dogs. Dogs have the decency to take their f--king shirts off.)
- The hot-air balloon ride looked just north of middle school play.
- And finally, the whole concept of nudity/gratuitous sex in films. Look, nine times out of ten, we all know it doesn't need to be there when it is. And then, in a movie like this, where it probably should be there, it isn't. The Shape of Water which will probably win a few Oscars and is full of legit actors, had all kinds of weird sex. But The Layover, full of B-listers (at best), won't win a damn thing and is basically void of the naughty bits. And it's about f--king, for f--k's sake!
...but that it was even possible. Sex? On a plane? Holy shit.
Imagine what they'd do, say, in a hotel, when their flight was cancelled.
Oh, right.
Absolutely nothing.