FUUUUUUUUHCK! How many times did I pray the scary-faced guy would sneak up behind me and slit me from ear to ear? As I was watching this third-rate retread, something occured to me: I need to write some “rules” for shitty slasher flicks, similar to the ones discussed in the original “Scream.”
Rule #1: How ’bout some jugs, huh? A little beav maybe? OF COURSE NOT! We have to drop on our collective knees and pleasure the horde of snot-nosed drug-addled youngsters who are doing more fucked up sexual shit than Rufus has ever dreamed of, but we can’t allow them to see it!!! Forchristsake, the friggin’ POTUS (President of the United States) is gettin’ his knob slobbed by a fat self-obsessed intern and he suggests we need to crack down on teens getting into R-rated movies! What we need is someone to slap him upside his fat head and tell him that no one gives a flying fuck about what he says anymore because he’s a GODDAMNED LIAR! Anyhoo, as I was saying…If I’m gonna sit through a couple hours of inane shit, at least have the common fucking decency to show some friggin’ skin! Jeeze! Jenny McCarthy is in this movie…certainly a media whore like her wouldn’t mind giving up a little screen ass. It’s not like she wouldn’t know what to do.
Rule #2: Fortheloveofgod, why can’t we see some better gore? Any blood observed in “Scream 3” was already dry by the time the corpse hit the floor. Trickling blood isn’t going to get it Wes! Rufus needs throbbing entrails! (and tits….and lesbians)
Rule #3: I guess the thing that bothers me most is that despite the increase in gunfire in “Scream 3,” they’re still not using anything that would even pierce ol’ Rufus’ skin. If you wanna whack a psychomotherfucker, you gotta step to ’em wit some POW! You wanna piece that will at least break a motherfucker’s ribs even if he’s wearing a bulletproof vest. i’m talkin’ at LEAST a .45 if not a 44 magnum or one of those kick-ass Israeli 50 caliber Desert Eagles. If you’re gonna pop caps, rip the bastard a Lincoln Tunnel in his chest.
You get the picture. There’s other shit I want, but let’s face it, I won’t get it from those stuck-in-a-rut pricks in Whorrywood.
This movie is so flaccid, the only thing that scared me is that for a moment I thought I’d lost control of my bladder. And what the hell is up with Courtney Cox’s haircut? Talk about a friggin’ hack job.
The bottom line is this…lots of people get stabbed, shit gets broken, and the person you least suspect did it all. And still, no unleashed gazongas…FUUUUUUUUHCK!!
Scream 3 gets…300 Swayzes: