Icarusintel
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http://www.aintitcool.com/node/33560
Highlights below.
Emphasis added. Thank god someone came out and said it.
Highlights below.
It's not every day that I risk incarceration to review a film. But sometimes you've got to do what you've got to do. Sometimes you have to be the only grown man in a theatre that doesn't have a daughter with him. Some men run marathons. Some men climb mountains. Me? To prove my endurance I sit through all 110 minutes of Bratz: The Movie. What no one told me going in was that this totaled 6600 seconds, each one longer than the one before it. This isn't just a movie geared at little girls. This is their Lawrence of ****ing Arabia, an epic tale of friendship, love and a Passion for Fashion (tm). In fact, David Lean should totally sue. They ripped his ass off.
You know the dolls I'm talking about, right? They're the ones you see in the grocery stores that look like they were modeled off of the girls you see in those internet videos that begin with the question "Do you know the password?" and end with the question "are you ready for the fiesta?" And these dolls are of vital importance to the future of this nation, and really, this society as a whole. Do you think guys like me can just get laid and reproduce on our own? No. **** no. It takes years of systematically breaking down the self-esteems of young women, of filling their heads with impossible expectations and then leaving them empty and hollow with a void that only booze and an endless string of faceless cock can fill. And that's where I come in. Just as we need pervert fathers eager to touch their daughters buttholes in order to keep the poles of this nation's stripclubs filled, so too must we give our daughters dolls that they can never live up to. Bratz.
Here McNamara takes big creative risks by eschewing the classic notions of story in exchange for a surreal, nonsensical series of music videos, montages and irrelevant plot points that hint at a story rather than simply delivering one. And why bother developing characters beyond simple stereotypes when there's little for them to do but pose and occasionally speak? What's important isn't what they have to say. It's what they have to do. And that's look good, have attitude and stand by your BFF, even when the only thing you share in common is your overdeveloped sense of rampant consumerism.
Throw in a deaf kid who becomes a DJ, a sleazeball 7th grader who seems to have a thing for younger women, and Jon Voigt wearing a prosthetic nose and you have a director that seems to be reaching to be the David Lynch of the Myspace generation. If there is sense to be made of this thing, it is by smarter men than I. And before you ask yourself What the hell is Jon Voigt doing here?, ask yourself this. Isn't that what we always say when he shows up these days?
Look, odds are your daughters don't want to see something this heady and intellectual. They're most likely interested in some insipid, vapid entertainment geared more towards selling a soundtrack and toys than it is passing on positive wisdom to the youth of America. But if your daughter feels far too good about herself or has bought into all this It's what's on the inside that counts bullshit, then you not only owe it to your daughter to take her to this, but you owe it to the 20 or so guys that in ten years will be tagging her while she lies face first in a puddle of her own vomit. These girls don't make themselves. They need your help, Dad. They need Bratz.
Emphasis added. Thank god someone came out and said it.