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I read James Hawes book. It was pretty neat, not great, but entertaining enough. Without having read the book I wouldn't have had the slightest idea what was going on, and it was still a stretch with that knowledge.<br /><br />Literally every element of this film is abysmal in ways I do not have the capacity to describe. Half digested fish could have made a better film with matchsticks and dayglo lipstick.<br /><br />Never before or since as a film made me feel so angry. The Mattress sequels came closest, but even they never reached such depths of utterly putrid nauseating appallingness that this bilge did.<br /><br />Since wasting 90 minutes of my life witnessing this plague on human kind I am now unable to even look at any book by James Hawes without feeling angry. That is the depth of hatred I have for this piece of sh*t. No, that's unfair. Let me apologise to all fecal matter for comparing you to the otherworldly evil that is Rancid Aluminium.<br /><br />Plain and simply a cancer on the world of cinema. |