“What a twist!”
Dario Argento. George A. Romero. Lucio Fulci. Sam Raimi. John Carpenter. M. Night Shyamalan. All of these names have become synonymous with the horror/thriller movie genres, but one of them is not like the others. One of them just doesn’t belong. The films created by this “man” are as silly and stupid as his last name, yet for some reason have struck a chord with young fright fans of today. He recently ruined a wonderful cartoon that airs on Nickelodeon, though you’d have to pay me a hefty sum to watch his film adaptation. Let’s give this chowder-head prick the honor he deserves, for he has earned it many times over. Your Prick of the Month is none other than M. Night Shamamalamadingdong.
I know it’s been a while since our last POTM, so I figured I’d choose a doozy for you. The very sight of this guy makes me want to reach through the screen and clock him one. Every single one of his movies should be used in film school to teach the directors of tomorrow what NOT to do. He has this stupid fixation with out-of-left-field endings that do nothing but move my bowels in ways I don’t expect or appreciate. Take SIGNS for instance. Aliens come down to terrorize Mel Gibson, Joaquin Phoenix, Abigail Breslin, and a Culkin kid on their farmland property in Moonshine, USA. Shamwow teases the audience throughout the film with brief images of creatures streaking through the corn-field, monsters crashing a birthday party, and an invasion that you can only hear. God forbid we see rampaging space-men rip through the heart-land like a tornado from hell. That might actually be entertaining, and we all know Manoj (yes that’s what the M stands for) won’t give us something that cool.
Here’s the twist. Water, that amazing elixir of life, is what kills the aliens. Now I’m not the smartest man on Earth (in fact I’m quite positive I’m not), but know that if you were cruising the cosmos looking for a planet to fuck with you wouldn’t choose one that’s riddled with the stuff that will destroy you. That’s about as cleaver an ending I’ve seen since The Happening, and The Happening SUCKED!
Overly promoted as Shyaboopadoop’s first R rated movie, The Happening is about Marky Mark Wahlberg running away from tree pollen. That’s the movie. Tree pollen makes people want to kill themselves. Run for the hills, everyone! Please. My toenail fungus is more terrifying.
There’s one other thing that M. Night Shitpants does that calls for a world class ball-tag. This man loves himself so damn much that it’s not enough for him to be directing a film. Oh no. The fucker has to give himself a cameo in EVERY FUCKING FILM HE MAKES! Sweet Aphrodite’s areolas, Batman! At least Peter Jackson is cleaver about putting his flabby face in his films. I didn’t even know he was in each Lord of the Rings film until after I watched the bonus stuff. Hell, he’s practically unrecognizable in The Frighteners.
M. Night Scat-cat is like that overly popular guy in high school. You know that guy: captain of the football team, baseball team, wrestling team, and cheer leading squad; such an attention whore that he joins the drama club so everyone will praise him as the lead in the senior class production of Grease. What a monumental douche-bag.
I’m going to end this the only way I know how: M. Night Shyamalan…EAT A BOWL OF FUCK!