Every now and then, a film is released that’s so edifying to the human soul, so poetic in its dreams that it wraps itself around your heart and lifts your spirit in such a way that is completely unexplainable.
And then there’s Big Money Rustlas, which made me want to hurt this movie so badly. The tragic thing is that I can never hurt it in the way its hurt me. I went toe to toe to brash ugly stupidity, and lost when it reared its hideous head, cornered me, then pummeled me with the lowest common denominator of the human experience.
In the end…I was defeated by this movie. I just couldn’t finish it. I crawled away from it and thought of happier days – the pull of the tide, the laughter of children. Its hard to say when I’ll feel like me again.
There’s a plot – the members of the Insane Clown Posse, still confused on why no one will take them seriously, put on westerny clothes and pretend they’re making a movie. There is a plot that I assume was hastily written on a napkin, which was used to wipe off wing sauce, which then fell on the floor. I’m also assuming the editing floor was surprisingly clean after this was deemed good to go.
Here’s some moments. I hated all of them.
Separately, I could tell you what these words mean. Put together, I just don’t understand.
You can make me read all you want, movie, still going to hate you.
Tom Sizemore shows up for no reason. Don’t you have a urine test to fail somewhere?
Here’s what you need to know about this scene. Purple and gold are complimentary colors. Unlike this man and acting talent.
Let’s say you’re involved in a shootout and want to stay hidden. Might I suggest you don’t where bright white clown makeup?
I’d make a horse’s ass joke here, but its just too easy. Also my soul was hurting at the time.
Hey guys – let’s decide who we’re shooting at before we commit to putting this scene on film.
I hate everything about this movie. I hate the fact that people got up at dawn and brewed coffee, sliced bagels so that the crew would have the energy to film this movie.
Once upon a time, this was a mother’s little miracle. And now I hate everything.
Bridget Nelson and Jimmy J Walker finally together in a scene that nobody asked for, doing things that nobody wanted.
The well crafted dialogue and cinematography blend so perfectly together in this story, its hard to pick up on the subtle racism that peeks out of the blankets of filmmaking, then hits you over the head with a oversized clown hammer.
I…just can’t. If this had been a real injury, I’d just assume that we were watching God’s judgement unfold in real time.
Everytime a clown laughs, a child’s dream dies a dark humiliating death.
This movie made me wish for the deceptive simplicity and heart strings tugging approach of Convoy. May this film be translated to film stock then stored in a dark damp place. Like a cheese factory. Or the ample mouth of a member of the Insane Clown Posse.