Pain and Gain (2013)
No film which can at all remind you from where Ronald Regan-era began to about the termination of the first incarnation of Tiger Woods -- all muscle, arrogance, and domination -- is going to really seem a Depression-era film, where stupid willfulness is going to be showcased simply as a sort of madness the hopeless adopt to believe they've got a chance in the world. In this film you've got Michael Bay as director, a bunch of body-builders as the main protagonists, and as well a very A-team-reminiscent van as home-base, so you basically get what you'd expect out of an 80's/90's film -- if you can amass a signfiicant amount of stupid wilfulness, you'll be treated as a meteor that's got to be allowed to destroy it's loaded-up fuel content of others' carefully procured affairs. If you show enough of yourself while daring to equivocate with them, it's "dispatch" for you -- as appropriately happens to the Miami porn-king, who tends to the gang's leader -- Mark Wahlberg -- the fact that a lot of what he says makes no sense at all. Neither did anything about Reagan or Tiger or Mr. T or Thatcher really make sense, but when society's obliging them big-time, your reality-checks will go unappreciated, thank you very much! Quite frankly, this film was delightful nostalgia -- the lady a few seats behind me laughed numerous huge-heartly laughs, and I chuckled along with her. The 80s, after all, as stupid as they were, were paradise to our current time when the only ones who can prosper are those who aren't will and muscle but just cany -- doing nothing but what the times allow, without even a fiber of muscle daring the alacrity of showcasing itself.
No film which can at all remind you from where Ronald Regan-era began to about the termination of the first incarnation of Tiger Woods -- all muscle, arrogance, and domination -- is going to really seem a Depression-era film, where stupid willfulness is going to be showcased simply as a sort of madness the hopeless adopt to believe they've got a chance in the world. In this film you've got Michael Bay as director, a bunch of body-builders as the main protagonists, and as well a very A-team-reminiscent van as home-base, so you basically get what you'd expect out of an 80's/90's film -- if you can amass a signfiicant amount of stupid wilfulness, you'll be treated as a meteor that's got to be allowed to destroy it's loaded-up fuel content of others' carefully procured affairs. If you show enough of yourself while daring to equivocate with them, it's "dispatch" for you -- as appropriately happens to the Miami porn-king, who tends to the gang's leader -- Mark Wahlberg -- the fact that a lot of what he says makes no sense at all. Neither did anything about Reagan or Tiger or Mr. T or Thatcher really make sense, but when society's obliging them big-time, your reality-checks will go unappreciated, thank you very much! Quite frankly, this film was delightful nostalgia -- the lady a few seats behind me laughed numerous huge-heartly laughs, and I chuckled along with her. The 80s, after all, as stupid as they were, were paradise to our current time when the only ones who can prosper are those who aren't will and muscle but just cany -- doing nothing but what the times allow, without even a fiber of muscle daring the alacrity of showcasing itself.
Good review Patrick. It's not Bay's worst movie, but it's by no means worth seeing if you're expecting something like The Rock. Not the wrestler, the movie.
ReplyDeleteThanks Dan. I agree with your point. It feels a bit like Michael Bay hanging out with friends and taking time off, while he prepares for the next Power Voltage. People who like Transformers' humor should get a good kick out of this, though. Laughing lady behind me sure did!
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