Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Bad Guardian

Now, I know what you are thinking, “Oh Mistress Squidia, is there no bottom to the hole that is your taste in movies?” and the answer clearly is, “No, there is not.” In my defense, I did live in the Yukon Territories for four years, I do have some experience with survival techniques, and I do love all things “Northern”. Plus, I’m a fan of Dangerous Catch (for all the same reasons already stated). So, last Friday, despite my deep and abiding loathing of Abercrombie & Fitch Butt Boy Ashton Kutcher, as well as my mild nausea induced by Kevin Costner, especially when he’s in “I’m such a stud-hombre hero type person that you must bow down and give me snoogies right this minute” mode, and despite my own best judgment…oh god, I can hardly stand to admit it…I went to see The Gaurdian. Pity me.

There’s really not much to say about this movie, because even if you would rather gargle hamsters than see The Guardian, you’ve seen it all before anyway. It’s that predictable. All the usual suspects are on on deck: Dark And Disturbed Hero Man; Younger, Keener, And Even More Disturbed Hunk O’ Beefcake; and their counterparts-slash-disposable-female characters, Wise Old Woman Barkeep; and, Succulent Yet Feisty Tomato. Actually, Bonnie Bramlett (yes, part of 60’s folk group Bonnie & Delaney and slumming hard here) plays the Crusty Yet Loveable And, Like, Full of The Wisdom barkeep at Ye Olde Local Drinkin’ And Carousin’ Establishment. As such, she provides the movie’s only authentic moments, and gives a completely awesome speech on the joys of aging, “I look at my wrinkles and scars and think, ‘Those just mean I drank a lot, smoked a lot, and fucked a lot’”. Bitchin’, and words to live by too.

What happens in The Guardian you ask? Well, there is a fairly dramatic icy Alaskan ocean rescue-gone-wrong in the opening scenes, which explain why Our Mr. Costner is just so messed up in the head that he would have to take (shudder) a teaching job while he recovers from the psychic trauma. Ashton’s character has a deep dark secret of his own which leads his character to fits of ego, brooding, and eyebrow manipulations comic enough to keep you moderately entertained. Plus, he takes off his shirt a few times, and I gather that some people out there would find this attractive. Personally, and in spite of his obvious interest in older women, Ashton Kutcher make me barf.

Anyway, blah di blah blah; conflicts are resolved, people are rescued, some sex is had (which is really the only reason the Tomato got the job), Old passes the torch to Young (but without losing face), and a Great Big Sacrifice is made for the greater good of all. All of this plods on with unerring devotion to your standard Hollywood plotline, so much so that I had to wonder if the whole thing was scribed by Final Draft without human interaction of any kind. It all ends badly however, with an ending so cheesy it rivals that of Van Helsing, which was so cheesy that the state of Wisconsin went into catastrophic economic recession for the better part of a year after it's theatrical release. I think the ending of The Guardian might just be worse; it was so bad I almost threw up a little bit in the remains of my soda.

Still, I saw The Guardian by myself, and there is nothing wrong with two hours of alone time in the dark, if you ask me. Single moms everywhere will agree—a horrible movie with no one pestering you is automatically a masterpiece.

Verdict? Avoid at all costs, unless you are, 1) running way from a contract killer and have to duck in somewhere that no sane person would go; 2) a gay man with the hots for Ashton Kutcher’s rippling abs; 3) Demi Moore; 4) homeless and just want to get warm for a bit; or 5) a single mom in desperate need of some alone time and everything else is showing at the wrong time to suit your child care arrangements. For everyone else, rent Deadliest Catch instead. Those guys are the real chronic.


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