Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Balls of Fury - Kate's Perspective


Sorry for the lack of updates, everyone (and by everyone I mean the two people who might occasionally stumble across this blog while looking for porn). Life, excuses, whatever. You know.

Anyway, the other night I had lots and lots to do, so naturally I ignored everything and watched adolescent movies with my dad. Somehow, in the sea of much better options (The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, Zodiac, American Gangster, even Ratatouille) we ended up with Balls of Fury. Oh, my dear readers. Oh. Oh.

I assumed that Balls of Fury would be mindlessly entertaining, much in the same vein as Blades of Glory, Talladega Nights, Dodgeball and other such funny but not terribly intelligent films. It was, after all, a recycled concept--a movie about an obscure sport with a surprisingly large underground fanbase. What I did not assume was that the movie's entire script would be recycled. This was clearly a silly assumption.

Fat, unattractive, unambitious but somehow wonderful protagonist: "OMG bathroom joke!"
Blind-when-convenient, crotchety-enough-to-be-cliche-but-not-enough-to-be-endearing old Asian mentor: "OMG racist joke!"
Sexy, tough-yet-provocatively-dressed frigid bitch of a "heroine" who still ultimately needs to be saved by a man: "Don't touch my ass!"
Protagonist: *touches ass*
Everyone: "OMG sexist joke!"
Gay joke waiting to happen: "HAY GUISE DUN FORGET MEH LULZ"

I just checked the running time on IMDB and was beyond stunned to see it listed at 90 minutes. Because it seriously had to have been at least four hours long. It just Would. Not. End. Every time I thought "oh thank you lord jesus for ending my pain" Christopher Walken would pop up with some new sort of electric bondage gear and a funny hat and start the whole thing over again.

It's not that I'm snobby. Really. I quote Anchorman as much as the next college nerd. But all I really ask for is a tiny pinch of originality and a funny, quotable script. It doesn't have to be of Juno proportions--I just ask that its humor be entirely based on not knowing that the scary Chinese overlord is actually Christopher Walken (which you find out halfway through), waiting on the tiresome, unfunny protagonist to get the attractive yet inexplicably hostile girl (which happens before the big tournament even unfolds), and finally, kicking the dead horse on its way out by having the Chinese mentor fall down an elevator shaft. See, it's funny because he's BLIND, get it?!? HAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauggh.

Someone make me a thirty-second version of this movie that's funny. It shouldn't be that hard.

Final grade: D

No comments: