Movie Reviews. From the Hip.


"What should we see this weekend?"

"Will that be any good?"

"What would DORIEN SAY?"

... Here's what DORIEN SEZ.

Welcome to the premiere movie reviewer that JUDGES FILMS BEFORE THEY COME OUT! Armed only with a few previews and a crack-shot snap judgment, I bring you the most succinct, accurate, and cocksure film reviews this side of the River Wild... which sucked!


Monday, January 23, 2012


On one of the more shameful days of my life, I purchased a ticket to Clash of the Titans -- in 3D, by myself, with real money from my pocket.  I watched the movie, beginning to end, and then I left.  I can't fully account for these actions, but what's done is done.  I paid the price in dollars and headache, and I suffered the awful writing, terrible direction, and Sam Worthington's inane per-bore-mance like Caviezel on the cross.  Well, it turns out that donkey shit can have babies!  Wrath of the Titans is the sequel to the mythology-inspired schlockbuster, and it's even worse than the first.  The screenplay is once again a jumble of badass utterings and pseudo-mythical nonsense, the action sequences are noisy and convoluted, and you'll see more compelling acting in any given episode of According to Jim.  The whole movie is a familiar and shitty mess, and I'm getting tired of finding messes like this in the movie-toilet of my life.

Worthington returns as Perseus, half-mortal son of Zeus and slayer of beasts and such.  He killed the monstrous kraken ten years ago, and now wishes only to live quietly, and raise his son in peace.  (Which is odd, seeing as while doing so he seems grumpy -- all the time.)  But, as fate and lazy writing would have it, Perseus is swept back into a dire undertaking: rescuing papa Zeus (L. Neeson) from the underworld, lest dominion over the earth fall to the likes of Hades and the Titans.  The Titans are big, scary types, and I think they might be half-gods.... my 8th grade mythology unit was a long time ago, and it doesn't matter anyway.  The plot is an empty frame upon which to hang gnarly greenscreen action.  That's a harmless enough endeavor, and a lot of the especial effects are impressive, but without the distractions of decent dialogue or halfway interesting characters, it's hard not to focus on the absurd spectacle of grown men in leather dresses play-acting like they are brave friends doing battle!  It's embarrassing.  And as stiff, humorless heroes go, Sam Worthingman takes the cake, stabs it, then breathes heavilhy.  His scowls, impassioned speeches, and heartfelt chats with his Woman will leave you trembling... with indifference!  Worthington is Unworthing of my respect!

We sometimes need a little dumb entertainment, but this film makes Radio look like I Am Sam.  That is to say, it's fucking dumb.   It trumpets itself as the overblown sequel it is: Bigger!  Better!  More Special Effects!  Mind-Blowing 3-D Action!  Maybe so, but we've seen it all before, and all it amounts to is a loud and furious wanking.  I was raised better than to watch that kind of thing in public.  So save your cash, enjoy your dignity, and do a good deed today: do not see Wrath of the Titans!

Dorien Sez: D
Watch the Trailer:

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