With both my kids playing youth sports, it should surprise no one that, as a family, we frequently find ourselves wandering the aisles of Dick's. And yes, that is the unfortunate name of the largest sporting goods store in our area. Nine times out of ten, the kids and I end up in the hunting section, and ten times out of ten you'd find us collectively wearing permanent WTF faces. Camouflaged everything is bad enough, but hides? Deer calls? Frickin' treats!?? All of this seems like a way unfair advantage, and honestly, the ultimate dick move.
But then again, outside of a bargain, I don't hunt shit. I'm not a f--king hillbilly redneck. *scoffs*
It's true, but not because of a freedom-crushing infringement on their lives, with like, a mask mandate or a children's book by an African American author, no. Instead these likely card-carrying Trump fans are ducking and covering from high-powered rifles, landmines and a general sense of absolute f--king chaos. I'm not sure why the game turns out to be so crudely elaborate, but I'm nine-hundred percent positive I had a good time watching it. When I wasn't looking away.
Honestly, The Hunt is a lot like other flicks in this weird sub-genre, as rich people hunting for sport is, sing it with me, a tale as old as time. It's bloody, it's over-the-top, and of course, wickedly subversive. I'm thinking The Deadliest Game and Ready or Not, with a dash of Battle Royale and The Hunger Games for good measure. And like with any (and all, if we're honest) of those movies, with the selection of the participants? Well, Someone done f--ked up. But it's not Ben Richards or the lady survivalist from You're Next [review] that the hunters should be nervous about, no - it's first ballot random movie Hall of Famer, Betty Gilpin. Believe the hype, as she's an absolute champ in this motherf--ker, start to finish.
