It wants to be The Birds. It really does. It dresses up as The Birds when no one is home and acts out scenes; throwing it’s cape and wings into the closet when it hears its parents coming in. Every day it falls asleep crying. Large, painful, soul destroying sobs lamenting the fact it will never be The Birds….
Or even a good film.
Everyone mumbles. Like Juno. The camera angles are odd. Like Juno. It thinks it’s deeper then it actually is. Like Juno. It’s pretty funny. Like Faces of Death.
Billy Connelly is Billy Connelly; Jack Black is Jack Black; Jason Segal is English; Catherine Tate has massive breasts.
That is literally all I have to say about one of the worse pieces of cinema ever.
And I like Carry on movies!
Same day. Same hangover. Screw you channel 10 for showing a double bill of Frankie Muniz. Screw you remote control for not being within reach.
This film is so unbelievably cheap, it’s actually insulting. Look, even the trailer gives up.
I was hungover when I watched this. I vomited halfway through. The vomiting was pretty intense. The movie was not.
