The other day, the normally boring and expensive Showtime Channel brought us low in gales of laughter, so much so that tears flowed aplenty and my belly hurt. I had not laughed like that in years.
The occasion was the latest Hollywood rape of a classic story, namely The Three Musketeers. The King of France and the blade-wielders are played by juvenile metro-asexuals, and the lines they deliver are straight from, like, Mean Girls on Facebook, omg lol!!!! (collective eye roll, please!) The evil Duke of Buckingham arrives at Versailles in a gigantic airship, prompting the King of France to demand impetuously of the evil Cardinal Richelieu: “Why don’t I have one?” Speaking of Richelieu – well, I had better not. Oh, even the (evil) Cagliostro dashes down from the 18th century to make an appearance.
And then there is the (yes, also evil) Lady de Winter, who even looks frigid, as the name would imply. Now, this broad is some kind of prototypical Catwoman who can scale and descale (?) walls using highly sophisticated speed-rappeling devices that would make Seal Team Six blench with envy, do an Olympic-style gymnastics routine to penetrate a forest of razor-sharp wires to get to the French Queen’s jewels, and lay low six heavily armed Guardsmen with Jackie Chan-style moves without breaking a sweat – or a fingernail. Oh, she also survives a fall from the airship into the English Channel (or La Manche, if you favor frog legs), though she does get wet and even a little cold in that little escapade.
The sheer improbability of the plot, the horrific acting and the, like, totally 21st-century junior high school lines were… Well, if stupid were a crime, 99% of Hollywood would be on an Alabama road gang.
And speaking of comedy, there is also self-appointed deity of green, Al Gore, selling out to the oil-financed Al Jazeera, for a cool hundred million: quickly-quickly, before Obama’s new taxes catch him with his silken drawers down.