Epic Movie 04.03.2007
The tag line “from the creators of Scary Movie and Date Movie” should bring horror to the hearts of any sane person. If each Scary Movie gets sillier and more idiotic, then it belies comprehension just how much worse a third franchise could be compared to the second and first.
I mean, wow.
Imagine this scene:
You’re in your room. The lights are out. The crickets are chirping. Cars are passing through the road outside, and the stars twinkle in the night skies. You hear a strange whining sound. You open the window.
And suddenly there’s a big gust of wind and off you go, through the open window, down the side of the house, crashing head first onto your neighbor’s dog who is surreptitiously crapping outside your bedroom and is whining from the pain of continued constipation.
You land on the poor thing. “Woof!” he goes, the air squeezing out of his lungs whilst with a great big wet smacking sound of something deep and primal breaking free from its shackles, backed-up dog shit spews all over your head that’s currently bleeding from a massive concussion.
In this scene, the bits of dog poop that work their way through the spreading cracks in your skull and give you horrible, deadly, painful shit-induced brain cancer would the film called Epic Movie.
It’s that bad. Really.