Quik.
Kool.
Tanner.
The one that be Warren G.
I don't have a lot of interest in DJs, outside of hiring one for my wedding (he's in jail for murder, by the way), so it's not like I'd purposely seek out a movie about Pauly D when scouring Netflix a couple of nights back. But when I, perhaps desperately (uh, it was overwhelmingly desperate), searched the name of one of my favorite actresses like the pathetic hermit I've become (well, further become), a movie about a guy vigorously pushing buttons on his laptop seemed like quality cinema. I mean, as long as the impossibly sexy (and, if I'm honest, impossibly curvy) woman was featured?
Push those buttons, good sir. Oh, and if you could, do it with your head on your shoulder. So dope. Cool, cool. Now, with two hands bring the slider down, then up. Bro, you're killing it.
Look, I 'teach' (or used to teach?) f--king ultra-uninterested children for a living, so believe me, there isn't a job I'd ever really shit on. That said, I headed into We Are Your Friends thinking the whole idea of being a DJ was silly at best, unrelentingly pretentious at worst. And while I still think it's all kind of ridiculous, there's way more skill than I ever gave it credit for. And boobs. Boobs also seem to be a part of the profession.
Just not the ones I was expecting.
Zac Efron, also not slacking in the chest department, plays Cole, a young dude trying to make it as a DJ in the party-scene of southern California (back in the glory days when people were allowed to leave their homes and gather). Cole is actually a pretty good dude, but he may or may not be fully held back by his trio of friends, Bald Guy, Hat Guy and Other Hat Guy. These bros are close as f--k, and have formed some sort of Volton-like creature, that when assembled, might impact the periphery of an exclusive club or two. They dream big, but it's beyond obvious that only Cole has a chance of making something of himself. If only he could meet some kind of Mr. Miyagi type, who could take him under his self-important wing, and show him the way. Cue DJ Bootleg Wolverine.
Kool.
Tanner.
The one that be Warren G.
I don't have a lot of interest in DJs, outside of hiring one for my wedding (he's in jail for murder, by the way), so it's not like I'd purposely seek out a movie about Pauly D when scouring Netflix a couple of nights back. But when I, perhaps desperately (uh, it was overwhelmingly desperate), searched the name of one of my favorite actresses like the pathetic hermit I've become (well, further become), a movie about a guy vigorously pushing buttons on his laptop seemed like quality cinema. I mean, as long as the impossibly sexy (and, if I'm honest, impossibly curvy) woman was featured?
Push those buttons, good sir. Oh, and if you could, do it with your head on your shoulder. So dope. Cool, cool. Now, with two hands bring the slider down, then up. Bro, you're killing it.
Just not the ones I was expecting.
Zac Efron, also not slacking in the chest department, plays Cole, a young dude trying to make it as a DJ in the party-scene of southern California (back in the glory days when people were allowed to leave their homes and gather). Cole is actually a pretty good dude, but he may or may not be fully held back by his trio of friends, Bald Guy, Hat Guy and Other Hat Guy. These bros are close as f--k, and have formed some sort of Volton-like creature, that when assembled, might impact the periphery of an exclusive club or two. They dream big, but it's beyond obvious that only Cole has a chance of making something of himself. If only he could meet some kind of Mr. Miyagi type, who could take him under his self-important wing, and show him the way. Cue DJ Bootleg Wolverine.
