This movie is the "wipe when finished" edition.
Step on up, step on up as the circus continues to roll through town.
Anyone who paid a gold coin donation to view "Aftershock" is a court jester in training.
Driving around the ruins of Beirut, extras from the set of 1992's "Prototype" sit around doing nothing still.
The blond chick from one of Jason's movies, Kaitan, runs a hefty bag operation for the dead, as body bags are unsustainable for this future.
Apparently, she's been sent by Skynet to spy on John Saxon's factory run concentration camp.
Digital Man, aka Neil Vargas, plays the role of a transexual Tarzan, while MacGyver hits on a cave woman from an LDS clique.
Not making an ounce of sense, I'm beginning to question if any medical procedure can cure brain damage.
Is there a radical pill that can reverse the effects of horrible visual storytelling?
This apocalyptic crap about wastelands and nomads reminds me of that terrible Italian movie, "The New Barbarians." It came as a surprise that the main villain in that, who looked like Lord Arthur from "Army of Darkness," had a penchant for men.
And the costume at the end worn by Giancarlo Prete was straight out of The Village People's home collection.
Eddie Murphy, MacGyver, and the actress from the Jason sequel escape the futuristic factory and meet an underground network of Templars. It's love at first sight as MacGyver lays eyes on Christopher Walken at the 27:50-minute mark. Twinkly eyes-sparkle those shiny baby browns, as Lucille would say. He's definitely got the Revlon X factor.
1989's Snake Eater and Walken keep looking at each other with seductive eyes, which implies their past lies in the romantic division and they can't wait to reunite with passion and courtship in the fashion of The Templars. (Philly's city of brotherly love eat your heart out.)
Like all the other crap I've been watching lately, this movie has no plot or reason.
The soul of this film was ripped from its frame (if it had one,) leaving it to parade around a lifeless corpse of no substance.
The lady from the Jason movie is some kind of "Starman" who can ET her way through hairy situations with a glowing index finger.
Walken continues to work his deep-seeded gaze on Snake Eater as the actress from the Jason sequel makes all the boys feel uncomfortable around her womanly presence.
Years of being confined in a bomb shelter have made all the dudes converts to the Templars teachings.
Walken's magnetic gaze is saddened when one of his Barbarian brothers acts out his suicide bomber desires and sacrifices himself to blow up an empty storage building.
These two, with their transfixed affection for one another, remind me of that "Seinfeld" episode where the guy has hypnotic eyes that bore through you.
Finding The Templars company unusual and incredibly boring, the actress from "Friday the 13th, Part 7" hooks up with one of Gacy's clown portrait models when suddenly an egg-shaped man, wearing lipstick, and the transsexual Tarzan Watusi their way on screen, cause static, then shoot the Gacy clown dead.
I'm really struggling lately to understand what the sole purpose of these movies is.
Look at this piece of cinematic brilliance, for instance: at the one hour and 18-minute mark, MacGyver, aka Snake Eater, beats up James Lew and handcuffs him with his own manacles, and the goon is resigned to defeat even though he has the key on his person to free himself.
Movies like "Aftershock" are akin to xylitol: if you consume too much, you soil yourself.
Don't forget to wipe.
Step on up, step on up as the circus continues to roll through town.
Anyone who paid a gold coin donation to view "Aftershock" is a court jester in training.
Driving around the ruins of Beirut, extras from the set of 1992's "Prototype" sit around doing nothing still.
The blond chick from one of Jason's movies, Kaitan, runs a hefty bag operation for the dead, as body bags are unsustainable for this future.
Apparently, she's been sent by Skynet to spy on John Saxon's factory run concentration camp.
Digital Man, aka Neil Vargas, plays the role of a transexual Tarzan, while MacGyver hits on a cave woman from an LDS clique.
Not making an ounce of sense, I'm beginning to question if any medical procedure can cure brain damage.
Is there a radical pill that can reverse the effects of horrible visual storytelling?
This apocalyptic crap about wastelands and nomads reminds me of that terrible Italian movie, "The New Barbarians." It came as a surprise that the main villain in that, who looked like Lord Arthur from "Army of Darkness," had a penchant for men.
And the costume at the end worn by Giancarlo Prete was straight out of The Village People's home collection.
Eddie Murphy, MacGyver, and the actress from the Jason sequel escape the futuristic factory and meet an underground network of Templars. It's love at first sight as MacGyver lays eyes on Christopher Walken at the 27:50-minute mark. Twinkly eyes-sparkle those shiny baby browns, as Lucille would say. He's definitely got the Revlon X factor.
1989's Snake Eater and Walken keep looking at each other with seductive eyes, which implies their past lies in the romantic division and they can't wait to reunite with passion and courtship in the fashion of The Templars. (Philly's city of brotherly love eat your heart out.)
Like all the other crap I've been watching lately, this movie has no plot or reason.
The soul of this film was ripped from its frame (if it had one,) leaving it to parade around a lifeless corpse of no substance.
The lady from the Jason movie is some kind of "Starman" who can ET her way through hairy situations with a glowing index finger.
Walken continues to work his deep-seeded gaze on Snake Eater as the actress from the Jason sequel makes all the boys feel uncomfortable around her womanly presence.
Years of being confined in a bomb shelter have made all the dudes converts to the Templars teachings.
Walken's magnetic gaze is saddened when one of his Barbarian brothers acts out his suicide bomber desires and sacrifices himself to blow up an empty storage building.
These two, with their transfixed affection for one another, remind me of that "Seinfeld" episode where the guy has hypnotic eyes that bore through you.
Finding The Templars company unusual and incredibly boring, the actress from "Friday the 13th, Part 7" hooks up with one of Gacy's clown portrait models when suddenly an egg-shaped man, wearing lipstick, and the transsexual Tarzan Watusi their way on screen, cause static, then shoot the Gacy clown dead.
I'm really struggling lately to understand what the sole purpose of these movies is.
Look at this piece of cinematic brilliance, for instance: at the one hour and 18-minute mark, MacGyver, aka Snake Eater, beats up James Lew and handcuffs him with his own manacles, and the goon is resigned to defeat even though he has the key on his person to free himself.
Movies like "Aftershock" are akin to xylitol: if you consume too much, you soil yourself.
Don't forget to wipe.