Why I am even writing a review on this "movie"? I guess because I feel I should do the world a public service by not make anyone in their right mind waste an hour and 1/2 of their life on this dump heap. So, your welcome.
I had the opportunity to watch the great and wonderful Cyrus over the weekend with a buddy of mine, and needless to say, we were expecting the ever funny Jonah Hill and John C. Reilly to come out blazing with a barrel of laughs about a battle of wits and shenanigans between new boyfriend and passive aggressive, bastard son Cyrus,fighting over Molly (Marisa Tomei)...in which she plays Cyrus's odd,immature mother. In essence, we thought this was going to be a COMEDY. WE WERE WRONG.
As it turns out, the only funny thing about this movie happens to be the irony that the directors (the Duplass Bros.) who apparently have about as much skill and qualification at making movies as a person who works the snack bar at the local bowling alley, actually got signed on to make a full production film. The joke was on us...Bravo Duplass siblings, you just disappointed the world.
So here is the story, and yes, it contains spoilers, but tough sh*t, I'm doing you a favor. We got a guy named John (Reilly), who is a burnt out, worthless slob of a man who got dumped and divorced 7 years prior by his now ex wife (Catherine Keener)..probably due to his personality, which resembles that of a wet mop left behind a toilet in a summer camp outhouse. And he still cant shake her, as we shortly find out after the ex wife walks in on him cranking one out with is pants down, which he of course uses "jock itch" as the excuse. Already the brown stain of Reilly's improv skills shows its true colors, right off the bat. So anyway, Keener and her new husband feel bad for John and decide to bring him to a house party, hopefully to have him meet some new people and ultimately get him laid. After getting overly drunk, he proceeds to dance like an complete A-hole and make a fool of himself to the song "Dont you want me" by Human League. No John, no one wants you. Not even Mama Cass, and shes dead. BUT WAIT!! after deciding to urinate on the outside patio tree with no remorse, along comes Molly(Tomei)and blurts out "nice penis" I guess this is how the Duplass duo interprets comedy, because this is probably the ONLY funny part in the movie. So from there its love at first sight and of course the still hot Tomei unrealistically has the hots for John *queue the Beauty and the Beast cliché* and they hit it off, enough to become an item...so much that Molly sleeps with John that night after the party..Go john!
Now after some strange behavior from Molly that throws John for a loop, he decides to follow her home where he proceeds to stalk around her house like a peeping tom. This is where we meet Cyrus,Molly's vapid, rotund, and hard to look at son played by Hill, who you may recall having a penis drawing addiction in Superbad ( a real comedy)
Anyway his character in this crap-fest is a weird, awkward, needy and deceiving individual, who basically has an Oedipus Rex syndrome fascination for his mom. I mean seriously, get a grip Cyrus. I expected to next see him walking around in a diaper with a binky in his mouth.
The rest of the movie consists of a tension between John and Cyrus...at one point Cyrus, the great lard-ass deceiver, triumphantly hides Johns shoes in closet which John later finds out and makes a big stink of "what are you going to hide next on me, my f*&king belt?" I take this as the crappy climax to the film (btw, my buddy had already fallen asleep on the couch, woke up and headed for bed, but I had to be the glutton for punishment, staying awake to watch the whole thing, refusing to believe that a movie could be so utterly worthless). So Molly finds out and blames the situation on Cyrus's clingy upbringing and her own over-bearingness to the morbidly obese brat, who at this point you feel like taking out to the parking lot and slapping the Man-gina out of him. John cant take it anymore, moves back to a dumpy apartment and tries to go back to his sad existence curing his jock itch. Molly, finally growing a pair tells Cyrus to buck up and start acting like an adult. Cyrus goes back to John to beg for him back, but not before getting drunk at a wedding and wrestling John to the ground and saying "leave us the f*&k alone!!!" I am sorry, was I supposed to shed a tear at this scene? because instead I just stared at the screen in amazement that this movie was still even playing in front of me and hadn't done something more productive with myself, like for instance, taking a dump or popping that pesky zit.
So the movie ends abruptly, like most "indy" ones tend to do pretentiously, hoping to leave you with a sense of wonder and the begging of question "oh no, did John work it out?" "I hope Cyrus worked out his problems" or "Molly was such a deep character, she must of had some underlying problems of why she sheltered Cyrus"
Samantics. a movie with a identity problem, filled with boring dialogue, mixed in with want-to-be profound shaky camera and zoom in and out over and over that would even make Andy frigging Warhol want to put a gun to his head.
that is my review of Cyrus. Now excuse me, I have more important things to do, like cleaning out the cat box.
I had the opportunity to watch the great and wonderful Cyrus over the weekend with a buddy of mine, and needless to say, we were expecting the ever funny Jonah Hill and John C. Reilly to come out blazing with a barrel of laughs about a battle of wits and shenanigans between new boyfriend and passive aggressive, bastard son Cyrus,fighting over Molly (Marisa Tomei)...in which she plays Cyrus's odd,immature mother. In essence, we thought this was going to be a COMEDY. WE WERE WRONG.
As it turns out, the only funny thing about this movie happens to be the irony that the directors (the Duplass Bros.) who apparently have about as much skill and qualification at making movies as a person who works the snack bar at the local bowling alley, actually got signed on to make a full production film. The joke was on us...Bravo Duplass siblings, you just disappointed the world.
So here is the story, and yes, it contains spoilers, but tough sh*t, I'm doing you a favor. We got a guy named John (Reilly), who is a burnt out, worthless slob of a man who got dumped and divorced 7 years prior by his now ex wife (Catherine Keener)..probably due to his personality, which resembles that of a wet mop left behind a toilet in a summer camp outhouse. And he still cant shake her, as we shortly find out after the ex wife walks in on him cranking one out with is pants down, which he of course uses "jock itch" as the excuse. Already the brown stain of Reilly's improv skills shows its true colors, right off the bat. So anyway, Keener and her new husband feel bad for John and decide to bring him to a house party, hopefully to have him meet some new people and ultimately get him laid. After getting overly drunk, he proceeds to dance like an complete A-hole and make a fool of himself to the song "Dont you want me" by Human League. No John, no one wants you. Not even Mama Cass, and shes dead. BUT WAIT!! after deciding to urinate on the outside patio tree with no remorse, along comes Molly(Tomei)and blurts out "nice penis" I guess this is how the Duplass duo interprets comedy, because this is probably the ONLY funny part in the movie. So from there its love at first sight and of course the still hot Tomei unrealistically has the hots for John *queue the Beauty and the Beast cliché* and they hit it off, enough to become an item...so much that Molly sleeps with John that night after the party..Go john!
Now after some strange behavior from Molly that throws John for a loop, he decides to follow her home where he proceeds to stalk around her house like a peeping tom. This is where we meet Cyrus,Molly's vapid, rotund, and hard to look at son played by Hill, who you may recall having a penis drawing addiction in Superbad ( a real comedy)
Anyway his character in this crap-fest is a weird, awkward, needy and deceiving individual, who basically has an Oedipus Rex syndrome fascination for his mom. I mean seriously, get a grip Cyrus. I expected to next see him walking around in a diaper with a binky in his mouth.
The rest of the movie consists of a tension between John and Cyrus...at one point Cyrus, the great lard-ass deceiver, triumphantly hides Johns shoes in closet which John later finds out and makes a big stink of "what are you going to hide next on me, my f*&king belt?" I take this as the crappy climax to the film (btw, my buddy had already fallen asleep on the couch, woke up and headed for bed, but I had to be the glutton for punishment, staying awake to watch the whole thing, refusing to believe that a movie could be so utterly worthless). So Molly finds out and blames the situation on Cyrus's clingy upbringing and her own over-bearingness to the morbidly obese brat, who at this point you feel like taking out to the parking lot and slapping the Man-gina out of him. John cant take it anymore, moves back to a dumpy apartment and tries to go back to his sad existence curing his jock itch. Molly, finally growing a pair tells Cyrus to buck up and start acting like an adult. Cyrus goes back to John to beg for him back, but not before getting drunk at a wedding and wrestling John to the ground and saying "leave us the f*&k alone!!!" I am sorry, was I supposed to shed a tear at this scene? because instead I just stared at the screen in amazement that this movie was still even playing in front of me and hadn't done something more productive with myself, like for instance, taking a dump or popping that pesky zit.
So the movie ends abruptly, like most "indy" ones tend to do pretentiously, hoping to leave you with a sense of wonder and the begging of question "oh no, did John work it out?" "I hope Cyrus worked out his problems" or "Molly was such a deep character, she must of had some underlying problems of why she sheltered Cyrus"
Samantics. a movie with a identity problem, filled with boring dialogue, mixed in with want-to-be profound shaky camera and zoom in and out over and over that would even make Andy frigging Warhol want to put a gun to his head.
that is my review of Cyrus. Now excuse me, I have more important things to do, like cleaning out the cat box.