The Return of the King
I waited a long time to see this movie, due to many things. Among them were acts of
God (when I did try to go and see it, the theater flooded fifteen minutes in), having a
'job,' and things I like to call 'hobbies.' I simply don't often have seven hours to devote
to a dark room with a huge screen; I don't like skipping meals and I really can't stand it
when other people are there to totally mess up my cinematic experience... by dying of
old age next to me.
I did finally get around to seeing it on pay-per-view; did I mention digital cable is rad?
Well, it is. Anyhow, I saw the bastard. I liked it. I knew I would like it. It was good. Great
even. Just like the other two really long movies. They were great..... Blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah blah. Seriously, ask anybody.
Look, I know the books had a really huge following and those legions of dirty, pothead,
hippie-scum can't help but jizz themselves every time you mention the name "Frodo,"
but I'm just not thrilled. I'm moved, I'm amazed at the visuals and the near perfect
adaptation of the books, but I'm not thrilled. There are several reasons for this but the
number one reason, if it isn't obvious by now, is the retarded length. MAKE FOUR
MOVIES NEXT TIME! Did Peter Jackson really think that we wouldn't go see a fourth
one? His fans would see his used toilet paper substituted as their bed sheets for
Christ's sake. And don't get me started on the special editions with the super bonus
scenes. Snore.
"Oh, Mr. Frodo, don't give up on me now! I'll carry you! Smeagol is bad! Charge!"
By not saying the previous three lines over eight hundred times we could have shaved
a little monotony off these bitches and I would have been grateful. But, you want to
know the lamest part of The Return of the King?
Everything after the ring melts.
I waited a long time to see this movie, due to many things. Among them were acts of
God (when I did try to go and see it, the theater flooded fifteen minutes in), having a
'job,' and things I like to call 'hobbies.' I simply don't often have seven hours to devote
to a dark room with a huge screen; I don't like skipping meals and I really can't stand it
when other people are there to totally mess up my cinematic experience... by dying of
old age next to me.
I did finally get around to seeing it on pay-per-view; did I mention digital cable is rad?
Well, it is. Anyhow, I saw the bastard. I liked it. I knew I would like it. It was good. Great
even. Just like the other two really long movies. They were great..... Blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah blah. Seriously, ask anybody.
Look, I know the books had a really huge following and those legions of dirty, pothead,
hippie-scum can't help but jizz themselves every time you mention the name "Frodo,"
but I'm just not thrilled. I'm moved, I'm amazed at the visuals and the near perfect
adaptation of the books, but I'm not thrilled. There are several reasons for this but the
number one reason, if it isn't obvious by now, is the retarded length. MAKE FOUR
MOVIES NEXT TIME! Did Peter Jackson really think that we wouldn't go see a fourth
one? His fans would see his used toilet paper substituted as their bed sheets for
Christ's sake. And don't get me started on the special editions with the super bonus
scenes. Snore.
"Oh, Mr. Frodo, don't give up on me now! I'll carry you! Smeagol is bad! Charge!"
By not saying the previous three lines over eight hundred times we could have shaved
a little monotony off these bitches and I would have been grateful. But, you want to
know the lamest part of The Return of the King?
Everything after the ring melts.
