Under our television, we have a small area dedicated to housing the three photo albums we own. Curiously, next to the albums of vacations and baby pictures, is my 12th grade yearbook. I'm not entirely sure why it's there, but as it's the only yearbook I own, I'm okay with it. And I'm assuming that if you stumbled across it, even if you didn't know me that well, you'd probably open it and at least turn a couple of pages. You kind of half to.
Good or bad, there's something about seeing where it all started.
Like Scotty P, I had no ragrets adding Roadracers to my Netflix queue. I just pressed the button and went on perusing the depths of Movie Hell. But as I actually went ahead and decided to sit down and watch the f--king thing, I was quickly overcome with a sense of panic. Was I really about to dedicate ninety-plus minutes to a made-for-TV movie from the mid-90's? Yes. Yes, I was.
Between you and me, Salma Hayek was enough. Early Hayek + an R rating made me think I was playing with house money. Throw in a young(er) John Hawkes, writer/director Robert Rodriguez, not to mention the timeless intensity of William Sadler and I felt like this one had a chance. And while maybe it wasn't outright horrible, it sure as shit isn't anything you have to see.
It's not very good, nor is it f--king terrible, so essentially I can't recommend it. Oh, and it's nudity free, too. So everyone hoping to see Deputy Dewey's ding-dong? Sorry, fellas. Maybe in Scream 5. But if you can make it past the awful opening title music (I swear Rodriguez has stock in saxophones), and the hyper-active editing (again, thanks RR), you might have a half-way decent time. My wife actually hung in for thirty minutes, so...there's that.
Good or bad, there's something about seeing where it all started.
Between you and me, Salma Hayek was enough. Early Hayek + an R rating made me think I was playing with house money. Throw in a young(er) John Hawkes, writer/director Robert Rodriguez, not to mention the timeless intensity of William Sadler and I felt like this one had a chance. And while maybe it wasn't outright horrible, it sure as shit isn't anything you have to see.
It's not very good, nor is it f--king terrible, so essentially I can't recommend it. Oh, and it's nudity free, too. So everyone hoping to see Deputy Dewey's ding-dong? Sorry, fellas. Maybe in Scream 5. But if you can make it past the awful opening title music (I swear Rodriguez has stock in saxophones), and the hyper-active editing (again, thanks RR), you might have a half-way decent time. My wife actually hung in for thirty minutes, so...there's that.
