Thank God you're pretty.

Many months ago, and despite my love of bad movies and great racks, a certain film was announced and truthfully, I couldn't have given a single f--k. It was based on a TV show that I never really watched, didn't even hold any level of sympathetic nostalgia for. But then certain actors were attached, and all of a sudden, the Boner Meter (or, Bonometer) not only sprang to life, but went from beloved animal funeral to college Halloween party in record time. All the show had going for it was hot chicks running around in bathing suits, right? And now we were getting a movie version of that?

How could they f--k that up?

Well, turns out, they didn't.  The shitty show...well, shocking no one, became a shitty movie.

Aw, Hell. I summered in my pants again.

Looking back at my (pathetic) life before I laid eyes on the mostly-lame movie-adaptation of Baywatch, I seriously have to ask myself, well, what the f--k were you expecting? Did you really think it would be two hours of Alexandra Daddarrio tying up Zac Efron True Detective-style? No.

I just thought it would be funny.

And there might be some boobs. Like, any boobs. 

Turns out, I was wrong on both counts. Yeah, sandwiched in between flat jokes and round (but clothed) titties, director Seth Gordon's Baywatch movie, instead sets its sights on a dumbf--k mystery absolutely no one gives a salty shit about. It doesn't even go full-parody either, and plays entirely too much of its one hundred and sixteen minute runtime a half-assed version of serious. A welcome level of self-awareness surfaces occasionally, only to be dragged under by f--king moronic themes of family and trust.

While the nine credited writers and lone director should all be drowned in a sea full of dicks floating in whale semen, the casting department and the guy in charge of the high-speed film should both be doing the backstroke in Scrooge McDuck's money bin. The cast bounces and jiggles in all the right ways, and somehow manage to all escape this film as charming as they entered it.

It was hard to find a picture with only Alexandra Daddario in it. But I totally did.

Though...to be fair. I've always found women (and men?) with great boobs super charming. Like, tell me more about...whatever it is that you were saying. Uh huh, right. Sounds good. So...would it be okay if I...bought you something?

Speaking of words you probably aren't really paying attention to (their eyes are up here, okay?), here are the Yays and Boos for Baywatch. If early word means anything, they might want to put that Saved by the Bell movie on hold, you know? Haha...just kidding. They're not making one...I hope.

You know that sound that Tina makes when she thinks about butts?

Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!

• The slo-mo, whilst ever so rad, ain't all about the boobies. Nope. That kite surfing dude in the beginning was pretty f--king rad. As was the ensuing rescue!
• The title sequence is the manliest thing ever. Like, even the dolphins are chest bumping. Too bad this level of awesomely ridiculous bullshit could not be maintained.
• Mitch (The Rock) is the f--king man. No, really. That first five minutes? My face looked that stupid love-emoji thing...with the hearts for eyes...the one...oh, f--k you. I'm old.
• I was a big fan of all the shit Mitch gave Brody (Efron). The use of boy bands was pretty f--king clutch.
• Okay, there is no female nudity, right, but the cleavage is top-f--king shelf. And if this were 1989 and I was ten years old...it would have, you know, moved the needle. But, hey. at this point, I'll take it.
• The Beach Boys Wouldn't It Be Nice is a first-ballot selection for the Soundtrack Hall of Fame.
• Ronnie made my soul hurt 99% of the time he was on the screen, but I will forever love his brilliant dance moves. I don't know why this happened....but I simply don't care.
• That morgue scene was extra f--king retarded...but the dripping? Oh the dripping killed me.
• Brody, you just might be the dumbest character in a Baywatch movie, but that was some slick shit with the cooler.
• Initially, I wasn't all that into the new CJ (Kelly Rohrbach). Initially, I was a stupid f--king asshole. (though I found her waaaaaay hotter in clothes...is that weird?)
• That's good luck, pick it up! Okay, this made me laugh out loud.
• And finally, even though I honestly wish she were in a better movie (like, any better movie), let me put my clammy hands together for the blue-eyed goddess that is Alexandra Daddarrio. My goodness is she an impossibly beautiful woman. I almost feel bad saying that I appreciated all the slow-motion heaving bosom shots, but it's hard to recognize guilt (or any emotion) when there's no blood in your brain. 

The Boo? Daddarrio isn't pictured here.

(No) Boooooooo...

..oooooooooooo(bs)!

• Let me get this straight, uh, they have tryouts...for lifeguards? Like, the guy saving my life...might not know CPR? The f--k? 
• We're treated to two of the longest dick jokes in the history of cinema. Boner's are hysterical, I get it. Couldn't you give us a better reason to get one?
• The Vomit Comet? Guh-ross.
• It sounds stupid to even say this, but no lie, this movie has the worst continuity ever. Pick a scene, any scene...it's all f--king terrible.
• Normally I would cheer for an alum of The Office. But normally, I wouldn't spend ten minutes staring at his dead dick, either.
• Uh, there's an America Ninja Warrior course nearby? Really? We get it, man. Efron's jacked. 
• The rescue of those two drowning kids may be the most poorly staged event in any movie ever. I'm not exaggerating. Instead of actual kids, they should have rescued the half-sunken letters of the words P-L-O-T D-E-V-I-C-E instead. That wouldn't have made any less sense...
• Speaking of no sense...did I mention the only nudity we get is a man-dick and man-ass (honestly, I don't think I needed to add man- to dick, huh?)? DID I????
• Oh God, Villain Lady. Yes, her tits are always hanging out. Cool. But everything else about her made me want to shoot her with a Roman Candle.
• Lifeguards train by boxing? 
• There's a fire on the water. And she extinguishes it...with more water.
• Great, not only does my constantly flaccid wiener make me feel old, but for the first time in my life, I was annoyed by profanity. Seriously. Even the soundtrack curses too much! (I think I'm still reconciling that the all f-bombs are the reason for the R. And the dicks. [and NOT the titties. Did I mention there aren't titties?])
• There are serious parts in this movie. They were so painful, I thought about seeing if I could break my own neck in the reclining chairs.
• Was this script written in 2002? 2004? Sorry, I'm not sure what year guys thought saying taint was like, the coolest. 
• Some of the action is good. But the scene in the nursery was so bad, it made me hate babies. Forever.
• "You know what would be funny? Zac Efron in drag. Unnecessarily." - someone who needs a high heel shoved up their...taint.
• Thorpe f--king sucks. Just the worst performance. Remember how funny Ice Cube was as the pain-in-the-ass boss in 21 Jump Street? Thorpe is it's antidote.
• Holy shit, the obligatory Hasslehoff cameo was so f--king cringe-worthy I was hoping Kit would burst into my theater and park exclusively on my ballsack.
• As was Pamela Anderson's twenty seconds in this film. Good God, this was terrible. It looked just short of an old-school rap video where they super-impose a dead member of the squad dancing with everyone else on stage. F--k me. Pour a little out for the one-time Mrs. Tommy Lee, everyone. In fact. Pour that shit directly into my eyes.
• And finally, me. Yep, let's collectively Boo that stinky ol' a-hole m.brown. I bought an opening night ticket for this shit fest, thereby encouraging its existence. And my main beef? No boobs. Aren't you a f--king adult? Don't you have the internet? Do you even respect women? Uh...not really, yes, and I'd like to think so. But, hey. I have a pretty good excuse for all of this. I do. I'm a total f--king moron.

Maybe I would have appreciated this movie more, had I been a bigger fan of the show. Maybe I was just upset that I was one of the youngest people in the theater (the lady next to me was at least seventy and housed an entire f--king pizza DURING THE TRAILERS) and due to my impatience, had to go to Baywatch solo (which looked pervy, I'm sure). Hell, maybe they'll right these wrongs in the sequel.

Yeah, I said it. Another Baywatch movie might be the only way to fix this. And if they do make another one?

I'lllllllllllllllll be ready.