I think if you haven't seen this-thing-the other comments pretty much cover what goes on up there on the little screen.
[Actually, let's establish right here that no matter how detailed the comments are, there really is NO WAY IN HELL you can possibly imagine what actually goes on up there on the little screen without actually seeing this horrifying cowflop. But I digress.]
So I'd like to make a comment, vs. write a review. I've mentioned in other Comments that I found out early on that, in my hunt for the world's worst movies, there's different dimensions of "worst." There's big-budget worst (Skiddoo, Myra Breckrindge, Battlefield Earth), low-budget why-are-watching-this? worst (no finer example than Night of Horror), utterly whack wolverine-hit-by-a-car-eating-its-own-leg worst (Troll 2, Blood Freak), stately, elegant, completely insane worst (Godmonster of Indian Flats! Godmonster of Indian Flats!), run-screaming-from-the-theater worst (King Kung Fu), and just-plain-depressing worst (Pink Motel, Microwave Massacre).
Jimmy, the Boy Wonder, creates its own class of worst. Jimmy, the Boy Wonder, makes you want to rise, smoldering, from your Barcalounger, go out on the street, and assault perfect strangers with a two-quart Mason jar full of nickels. It makes you want to get a buddy with a jailhouse tattoo, drive to western Kansas, and do an entire family of hardworking Republicans in a remote farmhouse. It makes you want to go to an orphanage and pour sugar in the gas tanks of the busses. Jimmy, the Boy Wonder is violence-inducing worst. Instead of Mike and the Bots, Jimmy, the Boy Wonder needs a simple silhouette of Sam Kinison at the bottom of the screen, going, "AAAAAAH! AAAAHHHHH! AAAAAAAHHHHH!" for ninety minutes, to help you scream away your pain, but it won't help, believe me, it won't help, your humanity will fall from you and you will run out like a horde of Mongols on hairy ponies looking for a nunnery to despoil.
There's my comment. I'm going to go watch Night of the Zombies about forty times to wipe the memory of Jimmy, the Boy Wonder out of my mind.
[Actually, let's establish right here that no matter how detailed the comments are, there really is NO WAY IN HELL you can possibly imagine what actually goes on up there on the little screen without actually seeing this horrifying cowflop. But I digress.]
So I'd like to make a comment, vs. write a review. I've mentioned in other Comments that I found out early on that, in my hunt for the world's worst movies, there's different dimensions of "worst." There's big-budget worst (Skiddoo, Myra Breckrindge, Battlefield Earth), low-budget why-are-watching-this? worst (no finer example than Night of Horror), utterly whack wolverine-hit-by-a-car-eating-its-own-leg worst (Troll 2, Blood Freak), stately, elegant, completely insane worst (Godmonster of Indian Flats! Godmonster of Indian Flats!), run-screaming-from-the-theater worst (King Kung Fu), and just-plain-depressing worst (Pink Motel, Microwave Massacre).
Jimmy, the Boy Wonder, creates its own class of worst. Jimmy, the Boy Wonder, makes you want to rise, smoldering, from your Barcalounger, go out on the street, and assault perfect strangers with a two-quart Mason jar full of nickels. It makes you want to get a buddy with a jailhouse tattoo, drive to western Kansas, and do an entire family of hardworking Republicans in a remote farmhouse. It makes you want to go to an orphanage and pour sugar in the gas tanks of the busses. Jimmy, the Boy Wonder is violence-inducing worst. Instead of Mike and the Bots, Jimmy, the Boy Wonder needs a simple silhouette of Sam Kinison at the bottom of the screen, going, "AAAAAAH! AAAAHHHHH! AAAAAAAHHHHH!" for ninety minutes, to help you scream away your pain, but it won't help, believe me, it won't help, your humanity will fall from you and you will run out like a horde of Mongols on hairy ponies looking for a nunnery to despoil.
There's my comment. I'm going to go watch Night of the Zombies about forty times to wipe the memory of Jimmy, the Boy Wonder out of my mind.