Sounds like torture.

Look, I get it.

I just took a new job seventy miles away from my house. I'm not even sure what I'll be doing (or when I'll be doing it), but with the money I'll eventually be making, I'd be foolish not to. I mean, sometimes, no matter how absurd the whole thing might be, you just gotta make some money. F--k what anyone else says.

Then he gets in your pants.

Sure, maybe you don't hear me, but after suffering through 2014's No Good Deed, my man Idris Elba certainly does. Because financial gain can be the only reason a guy that talented (and handsome) ends up in a shit show like this.

For those of you lucky enough to not know, No Good Deed tells the story of Colin, a psychotic killer on the way to his parole hearing. It seems he's responsible for the murder of FIVE YOUNG GIRLS (they say this a lot). He might look and sound like a reformed man, but after ten minutes of a-holes essentially looking into the camera and telling us otherwise, ol' murderous Colin is sent back to prison. Apparently Con Air was overbooked, so this unbelievably soulless bastard is headed back to the pen in something Jim Bob Duggar takes grocery shopping. Good thing this van is helmed by Polite Old Black Guy and Paul Blart's angry cousin. Needless to say, after killing those two f--kers without hesitation, the first of Colin's not good deeds are done. Or his good deeds are not done. Undone? I don't even know what's going on anymore.

Anyway, from here, the film heads to that awful moment where any civilized person watching stands up and politely utters a hearty F--K YOU to the screen. See, Colin, on the way to likely murder more young girls (did I mention he killed FIVE YOUNG GIRLS?) crashes his car due to the overwhelming problem of foggy windshield. He stumbles into the adjacent wonderful neighborhood, and knocks on the door of Terry (a consistently bewildered Taraji P. Henson). Yes, it's raining, and yes Elba's tight shirt is clinging to his rock-hard frame, but there's no way in Hell that this woman allows a stranger into her house. Not only is she not dressed for company, but her husband's out of town and she's home alone with her two small children.

While letting this strange man in her house may be the dumbest shit ever, it might not even crack the top ten of ridiculously stupid things that happen in this one. Honestly, there was a point I thought the actors would just turn to the camera and say we got you, bitches! and the real movie would start, but alas, that was not the case. And despite only clocking in at a scant eighty-four minutes, No Good Deed feels a Hell of a lot longer.

Also overstaying their welcome, are the Yays and Boos. While we were all excited to see a new (to DVD) movie, there was a point where we were hoping a stranger would knock on the door and murder us all. Unfortunately, that sadistic f--k let us finish the flick instead. Dick move, man. Dick move.

I can't decide.
1) I'd have a shovel too, if I was knee deep in this much bullshit.
2) It's fitting he used a shovel to kill a ho.

Yaaaaaaay!

• I don't care. I still love Elba. Though, I'll admit, I missed the accent.
• Dude. His ex-chick was pretty hot. I probably would have made out with her, you know, before smashing her head in with a lamp. Okay, fine. I probably would have made out with after, too. 
• I like (to look at) Leslie Bibb, so clearly I enjoyed all the weird girl-girl touching. My wife's college friends really need to visit more.
• Best worst line ever? Where can I smoke....without getting wet?
• Terry pulls out some pretty sweet trickeration near the end. I was actually hoping she'd climb down the sheets (with a kid in each hand), but her move was marginally less ridiculous.
• My wife never swears. Well, hardly ever. But when Terry lets him in? F--king IDIOT! Calm down, sailor. Jeez.
• And finally, even though just about every page of this script should be launched directly into the sun, I will admit I was kind of surprised by the twist. Yes, clearly I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed (I did pay to see this), but I really didn't see that one coming.

Booooooooooo!

• I really hope you like expository dialogue! See, expository dialogue is when the characters tell us information in an unnatural way, likely because the writer has no other way to explain it.
• Oh, and I also hope you like it when you are given literal definitions of terms, too. I guess they know that only stupid people would sit through this.
• Sure, I secretly love them, but holy shit the cliches get out of hand. Husband's out of town? Check. Construction on the house (that won't be finished....um, or relevant)? Check. Huge storm that gets worse at night? Check! What's next? Downed power lines? No cell service? Checking the body for a pulse? A broken window that occurs exclusively to ease the sexual tension?
• Terry lets him in. Bad. Then, she fixes the cut on his head. Really? I've been alive thirty-five years and not once has someone who f--king knows me ever treated a wound on my head. Though it should be mentioned, I don't think I've ever really cut my head open....but still.
• Did I mention that Terry used to be a lawyer? And that she used to put away guys who hurt women? Did I also mention that Terry has no f--king clue that Colin is the state's most notorious perpetrator of violence against women?
• There's this moment when Terry is running that they decide to show us in slow motion. No one's behind her, there is no imminent threat, but apparently this woman navigating a f--king hallway needs to be shown at half speed.
• Bibb plays her dopey college BFF...who happens to live next door? The f--k?
• That bit with the car alarm going off at random. Someone turn the alarm off, please. Then, kindly run over my eyes with that vehicle.
• This is kind of a Yay, but Colin forces Terry to stand in the shower with him. Yep. That's what you get, lady. You want to blast me in the face with a fire extinguisher? Now you gotsta watch me scrub my balls. Lesson learned, I'd say.
• We get two 'f--k yous' in this one. Back-to-back, in fact. I thought there was a limit of one f-bomb in a PG-13 flick? If we're making exceptions, couldn't we have got a titty or something? 
• And finally, me, m. brown. I really want to watch good movies. I promise. But I can't stay awake anymore. With short ones, I at least have a chance. Why does every short movie have to suck so hard? Please help. Please. 

Okay, even though you may be reading this in the morning, I have to get my sorry ass to bed. My two children are safely sleeping in their beds, and I'm going to tuck myself in for the night. Well, unless a handsome stranger knocks on my door and needs to use my phone of course.