I'm not sure if users ought to be allowed to review films after only sitting through half, but I'm afraid I just couldn't stand another minute.
If this abject excuse for a film doesn't have the late, great GP spinning like a wheel in his grave, then I doubt anything will.
The excellent review above 'Not a film for Parsons fans' sums up most of my feelings. How dare a (second rate) director and writer attempt something to which they're so clearly incapable of delivering. What were they thinking? Where to start?
THE SCRIPT: I thought I'd be getting a slice of bittersweet Americana. What I got was poorly executed slapstick with no cliché left unturned. Stupid hippy? Check. Stupid fat cop? Check. Awful plot contrivances? Check. Embarrassingly written female characters? Double check. Total disregard for the story which you're trying to portray? Check.
After a while, you realize that what you're watching is a soap and not a very well written one at that. Scene with Knoxville. Scene with Ex girlfriend. Scene with Knoxville which hasn't moved on much. Scene with Ex girlfriend which was a bit like the last one. And so on...
THE DIRECTION: My friends and I decided, after some consideration, that watching this was like watching a bad episode of Quincy, or maybe a particularly poor Dukes of Hazzard. That's how bad the direction was. Terrible jump cuts, awful camera work, clunky ins and outs to scenes. God, it was cringeworthy. And then I discovered the director was an Irishman who's most noteworthy recent work is a really lousy BBC Sunday night drama called Monarch of the Glen (trust me, it's lowest common denominator TV). And then it all made sense...
THE ACTING: Are we now so critical that when some random guy from the TV decides to give acting a go, if he's not so bad, he stinks, we applaud his efforts? Knoxville JUST ABOUT manages to get through every scene. Poor Christina A. has no such luck. Her performance is a car crash (though what you do with those lines, I don't know). The 'hippy' in the hearse: oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Have we not moved on since Cheech and Chong?
I could go on, but I think you get my drift. What I would say is that, as other reviews have mentioned, no one on this film clearly gives a flying damn for The Byrds, The Flying Burrito Brothers or Gram's solo work. They knew nothing about the American road movie and they certainly give a damn about trying to do anything with an admittedly decent story from rock mythology. This film was shallow, failed to explore anything and was jaw droppingly unfunny from beginning to...oh wait, I didn't quite make the end. And I suggest you stay away too.
If this abject excuse for a film doesn't have the late, great GP spinning like a wheel in his grave, then I doubt anything will.
The excellent review above 'Not a film for Parsons fans' sums up most of my feelings. How dare a (second rate) director and writer attempt something to which they're so clearly incapable of delivering. What were they thinking? Where to start?
THE SCRIPT: I thought I'd be getting a slice of bittersweet Americana. What I got was poorly executed slapstick with no cliché left unturned. Stupid hippy? Check. Stupid fat cop? Check. Awful plot contrivances? Check. Embarrassingly written female characters? Double check. Total disregard for the story which you're trying to portray? Check.
After a while, you realize that what you're watching is a soap and not a very well written one at that. Scene with Knoxville. Scene with Ex girlfriend. Scene with Knoxville which hasn't moved on much. Scene with Ex girlfriend which was a bit like the last one. And so on...
THE DIRECTION: My friends and I decided, after some consideration, that watching this was like watching a bad episode of Quincy, or maybe a particularly poor Dukes of Hazzard. That's how bad the direction was. Terrible jump cuts, awful camera work, clunky ins and outs to scenes. God, it was cringeworthy. And then I discovered the director was an Irishman who's most noteworthy recent work is a really lousy BBC Sunday night drama called Monarch of the Glen (trust me, it's lowest common denominator TV). And then it all made sense...
THE ACTING: Are we now so critical that when some random guy from the TV decides to give acting a go, if he's not so bad, he stinks, we applaud his efforts? Knoxville JUST ABOUT manages to get through every scene. Poor Christina A. has no such luck. Her performance is a car crash (though what you do with those lines, I don't know). The 'hippy' in the hearse: oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Have we not moved on since Cheech and Chong?
I could go on, but I think you get my drift. What I would say is that, as other reviews have mentioned, no one on this film clearly gives a flying damn for The Byrds, The Flying Burrito Brothers or Gram's solo work. They knew nothing about the American road movie and they certainly give a damn about trying to do anything with an admittedly decent story from rock mythology. This film was shallow, failed to explore anything and was jaw droppingly unfunny from beginning to...oh wait, I didn't quite make the end. And I suggest you stay away too.