Ad’s All Folks: Ubisoft We Dare

The Wii console has become a bit of a cash cow since its inception. Its innovative interactive games have become a staple of family gatherings, Christmas and funerals. Its beauty is in its simplicity. Everyone can pick up a wiimote (Oh, I get it!) and be playing before you know it. Sure it is not like its cousins; PS3 and XBOX. Its graphics aren’t as smooth, its games catalogue somewhat limited, and, sometimes, when it call round to call its cousins they would pretend to be out or feign rigamortis till it got the message and left.

Then something went horribly wrong. Someone at Ubisoft decide that the family demographic wasn’t good enough. No, to truly make literal bags of money, the Wii needs to aim its sights at a newer more virile market. Forget your Greys, no you need to go for the people who like to stick wiimotes in any open orifice market.

In this ad for Ubisoft’s We Dare, we’re taken on a journey of sexy sexiness that can now be provided through Nintendo’s little white box.

With a backing track that sounds like a Doom level set in a brothel and an attempt to come across as sleek and glamorous, We Dare appears to be nothing more than a series of parlour games that could be played any numbers of ways other than what’s been shown.

 

But by Christ, they try hard to make you think otherwise. Take Jason Biggs here who spends the entire time looking a man who has been trying to get his wife into an orgy for some time now and, finally, FINALLY has the chance to do so thanks to Ubisoft.

If you ignore the ‘fun’ that’s going on, you’re suddenly distracted by the coldness of some the protagonists faces. Look into the eyes of this hapless feck.

They’re deadened not only from the knowledge of her husband’s soon to be infidelity but the understanding that, once again, it will be down to her to tidy away the body parts when this whole sorry affair reaches it’s inevitable bloody conclusion.

The reality is that most people who will even consider this titillating are middle aged couples whose thoughts of copulation are mulled over whilst peeling the sprouts for Sunday dinner and often involve several other like minded people.

 

Crappy Movies What I Watch: Gigli

So, yeah. I only really have myself to blame on this one. That said, I’m not going to let it stop me from commenting on what will always be known to me as that film where J-Lo compares a mouth to a vagina and a penis to a sea slug.

There are many things wrong with this film. Ben Affleck playing a cunt hole hit man? Wrong. Jennifer Lopez playing a sassy lesbian contractor? Wrong. The idea that lesbians just need a good dicking? Wrong.

The dialogue reeks of being written by a 15 year old impersonating a Tarantino movie whilst Justin Bartha seems to be auditioning for the Rain Man 2. In fact, if you’re going to see one film where Ben-A fucks a lesbian, make it Chasing Amy. At least everyone was likeable in that.

When we first meet Gigli (Affleck), we’re constantly reminded that he is a soft touch amongst the other gangsters. Such a soft touch, that when Justin Bartha’s mentally challenged act gets to much for him he pounds his head against a wall.

‘Oh please can the retard beater get together with the girl now! He’s ever so loveable!’

 

Crappy Movies What I Watch: F

Continuing on in the ‘chav horror’ vein as Eden Lake, this Daily Mail sponsored horror film tells the story of an alcoholic teacher trying to defend his daughter and school from a pack of faceless hoodies. Their motive? One of them got an F in an English essay. Fuck a doodle do.

For some unknown reason, the hoodies are skilful in the art of parkour. If you didn’t know, that’s the pointless sport of jumping invented by people who couldn’t be arsed to learn to skateboard. You’ll have seen it in BBC stings just before another episode of ‘ain’t it bleeding miserable down south’. Your average townie, whilst sinewy, could never perform the acts of athletic dexterity born witness to in this film. They leap from bookcase to ceiling whilst using chocolate milkshakes to write death threats in text talk i.e. U R DEAD. That’s when they’re not raping nubile PE teachers I should add.

None of the characters are particularly likeable. The hero himself is seen slapping his daughter around in the first half hour. Any thrills shown in the last 40 minutes are boiled down to suit the lowest common denominator. Lot’s of ‘OOOOH LOUD NOISE EQUALS SCARY’.

What irks me the most is that over the last ten years the horror genre has become nothing more than an excuse for cheap shocks and lacklustre scripts. Where are the 21^st century equivalents of ‘The Thing’, ‘Dawn of the Dead’ or even ‘An American Werewolf in London’? Films like this just batter further nails into coffin after abusing the corpse. Fuck you Eli Roth. I blame you entirely.