Gone in Sixty Seconds

Jerry Bruckheimer sucks ass.

He makes movies, the kind which make me want to stab random people in the neck with a butter knife.

I wonder what thoughts go through Jerry’s head when he’s considering making a crime against humanity like “Gone in Sixty Seconds?” What kind of asshole reads a script like that and says, “Oh yeah, I gotta make this”?

I ran from the theater, toward the light, as soon as the final credits began to roll. It HAD to be written by a twelve year old, right? It HAD to be a twelve year old who has never actually spent more than an hour a day outside a locked closet.

P.T. Barnum predicted the rise of the great thief, Jerry Bruckheimer. Wasn’t it Barnum who said “there’s a sucker born every minute?” Bruckheimer is the guy taking toll at the moron booth at the county fair.

Okay, okay, I’ll get to the body that lies festering on the autopsy table before me…

Nicholas Cage “portrays” a retired car thief whose brother gets into the family business after he gest out. An old friend tracks “Memphis” down to get him back to Los Angeles, the plastic asshole of the universe, so that he can ride in on a white horse (or a ’67 Shelby Mustang) to save the day. Memphis Cage proceeds to mastermind a successful car stealing spree that gets his brother off the hook with the local underworld bad-ass, everyone loses ten pounds of body fat, gets an I.Q. of 150 and a three wishes from a genie.

While we’re on the subject of underworld bad-asses, let’s ponder the phenomenon as portrayed in Hollywood. What characteristics would you expect to see in a thug? Well, in “Gone in Sixty Seconds,” the pasty, crumpet-crunching limey who plays the underworld bad-ass likes to build furniture. He curses a lot. He’s got a gun. Whoooooo! I’m scared! Don’t get me wrong, Rufus has some damn fine furniture, but rest assured, it was made by bass fishing rednecks who get their liquid enjoyment from a red, white and blue can, not some ass-faced Brit barking about how boring baseball is on the telly…obviously written by the aforementioned twelve year old in a closet.

Th plot is stupid and slightly reminiscent of the second Rambo movie. Rambo Cage, car thief extraordinaire, is called out of retirement for “one last mission” and destroys everything that stands in his way. The dialog is slightly reminiscent of the Teletubbies. One scene in particular is so ludicrous and juvenile that I didn’t know whether to shit or go blind. Memphis Cage is sitting in a car with Angelina “I have a disturbingly weird relationship with my brother / I married an inbred wife-beater named Billy Bob” Jolie, waiting for an appropriate moment to steal a Lamborghini Countach while an L.A. playboy-type undresses his anorexic, brain-dead model girlfriend/prostitute. Cage begins chatting up Jolie, talking dirty to her as though she was a car. The begin pawing at each other talking about carburetors and transmission linkages. Twelve year old in a closet…

Gone in Sixty Seconds gets 376 Swayzes:
x 376

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