The Thomas Crown Affair

If you were sucked into “The Thomas Crown Affair” believing it had merit simply because a finely crafted piece named Rene Russo is in it, you’re sadly mistaken. You see my friend, Pierce Brosnan is in the movie as well. For those who aren’t familiar with Brosnan, imagine a British horse’s ass in a suit. And Pierce…wrinkling your brow and pursing your lips like a school-boy is not acting.

Here’s the poop: You may remember a little farce I reviewed a few weeks ago called “Entrapment.” If not, you may want to take the time to revisit it now. Substitute Catherine Zeta-Jones and her pear-like ass, the absolute center of “Entrapment,” with Rene Russo and her long legs and giving-Michael-Jackson-a-run-for-his-money plastic face. Jettison Sean Connery in lieu of modern day Bond, Pierce “Ass Face” Brosnan. Replace the lasers with similar high-tech security devices.

As I remember it, your average linguini-spined critic lapped up this diarrahea as it dripped forth from the sphincter of Los Angeles simply because Rene Russo’s package, when viewed through foggy Hollywood lenses belies the fact that she was eligible for Social Security retirement benefits years ago.

Let me assure you, this movie takes the donkey cock, gags on it, chokes on the spunk and dies, unable to breathe.

The REAL reason this horrid movie was so popular in because tired, flatulent old wind-bags driving SUV’s see Rene Russo’s artfully constructed body and believe they’re possible of being as attractive as she is and in the middle of a torrid affair with a pompus well-heeled prick.

The scenes in this movie that make my blood boil are too numerous to count. For instance, Russo’s character is acting like a hot super-sleuth she isn’t when she reaches for a cola…not just any cola…it’s PEPSI ONE! A drink that will make your old, cottage cheese lookin 42″ hips look like Rene Russo’s! Watch her slowly drink the PEPSI ONE as the camera focuses intently, forcing you to drink in the moment with her. Yes, PEPSI ONE will make you thin like her…at least that’s what the a-hole Hollywood producers of this bilge want all the jaded axe-handle-assed bitties in the crowd to believe.

Then there’s the scene where Russo’s character, whose name I can’t remember to save my life, steals ol’ Tommy Crown’s keys. They’re passed off to a law abiding peace officer who proceeds to make a copy of the key to his home. Now is when it gets good…que the Bond “air filled with tension” music and lighting fit for the Watergate burgulary…all this to: MAKE A COPY OF A KEY!!!! For christsake! It’s only keys!!!! Fuck! Making keys…I did that shit in high school at TG&Y for a buck ninety-five an hour!…we never had music and lighting like that! I REPEAT: THEY’RE MAKING KEYS…NOT BREAKING INTO FBI HEADQUARTERS!! (FYI: TG&Y is a third-rate Dollar General Store Abe and I worked at during high school.)

Then there’s the autographed photo of Cindy Crawford on a table in Crown’s crib (that’s house for you, whitey.) Gimme a friggin’ break. Everyone knows Crawford was married to Richard Gere…if that won’t turn you queer, I don’t know what will. So why would Crown, super-stud, have her picture on a table?

Or how about when what’s-her-name thinks, “let’s find out who has bid on Monets recently.” She then proceeds to pull up this information on the police station computers…this information THAT DOESN’T FUCKING EXIST!!!!! On a police computer no less…in thirty seconds. And people think we’re too hard on this suck-ass movies.

Let’s not forget about ass-wipe’s therapy sessions with Faye Dunaway, the only person in this movie with more plastic surgery procedures under her belt than Rene Russo. Every gazillionaire needs to be reminded by a plasti-woman that he’s childish and in need of a good spanking…that’ll keep him grounded. Isn’t that simply smashing dahling!?

If you choose to watch this colossal pile of monkey shit only to see Rene Russo’s less-than-a-handful tits, remember this: you were warned.

The Thomas Crown Affair gets many Swayzes:
x infinity

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