Chloe (aka my Supreme Muffin) and I saw This is the End a few days ago and were almost physically sick because…well, here are a few reasons:
1. Penis and ejaculation jokes. The amount of times I had to hear Danny McBride (who the hell are you, anyway?) scream about ejaculating all over James Franco’s house got a little over the top. Incredibly, annoyingly, overbearingly over the top.
2. Mindy Kaling disappointment extravaganza 2013. The only reason I believed it could be a good movie was that Mindy was in it for three seconds. I love Mindy Kaling. I idolize her, and read her book in the middle of the night with a flashlight, and I secretly want to be her, and now she’s in the crappiest movie I’ve ever seen in my entire life. The crappiest movie in which Michael Cera is in a bathroom having a weird threesome with two girls while high on coke. And she chose to be in the movie. Sure, I believe Rihanna would be in a movie like that because she’s probably actually insane, but Mindy is a smart woman who does smart, funny things. And she was part of this and it made me sad.
3. When I originally planned to major in Creative Writing in college, people told me not to. It’s a hard field, they said. There’s only so much room for talented writers. And then tripe like this makes millions of dollars. My first draft of the teen romance novella that I wrote in high school is higher quality and more intelligent than this script. And guys, there’s a really awkward kissing scene in that novella that nobody ever needs to read…I think it’s total crap, but it is so much better than this movie. The realization that something I wrote out of angst and confusion at age 17 contains more meaning and profundity than something that earned a bunch of people millions of dollars makes me want to vomit a little.
Some person sat down at a desk and vomited this script up and said, “A few more rape jokes and it’ll be perfect” and that is truly tragic, my friends.
4. I don’t want to have to be the person who is grumpy about these things. I don’t want to be the one who rants in the car on the way home because this is not what funny is. This is just inappropriate and nonsensical and people screaming and chopping penis statues in half. It isn’t that we all need to have the same sense of humor, because that isn’t how I want the world to work at all. But can’t we be smart? Can’t we think of jokes that don’t involve our genitals or the objectification of women or semen or our genitals or semen?! I’m tired of trying to make sense and seeming uptight, when all I ask is that we all stop being twits.
5. It was clearly made for the group of three idiotic guys sitting in front of us at the movie, who had a rollicking good time and were gasping with laughter when the weird demon with a massive penis (why why why) raped Jonah Hill (so much why). That makes me sad too. Those guys are the minority of the population (or at least so I thought) and should not be the only group that is marketed to. They laugh at stupid, immature things because they’re probably sexually repressed and aren’t intelligent enough to find humor in something that doesn’t involve farting.
Somebody needs to produce a good movie that makes people think about themselves and the human condition at least a tiny bit while laughing their sides off. Laughing is good for you. Penis jokes, on the other hand, slowly make my brain disintegrate.
I want my $10 back.