More like The Lame Escape
This reviewer is doing you, the reader, a great service. This reviewer is going to save you $12.00. This reviewer is going to s*#t all over the upcoming family comedy, The Great Escape.
For starters, the initial set-up is pure traif. A poorly maneuvered helicopter shot opens the movie, slowly (and I do mean slowly) zooming in on Kocker & Sons Crayon Factory. We are soon introduced to two bungling morons, Jim and John Kocker, twin heirs to the factory fortune. As is painfully predictable, Kocker Senior kicks the bucket, drifting off into presumable purgatory, but not before delivering a drawn-out, incredibly laborious monologue concerning the future of Kocker & Sons (annoyingly whispered by the ever-disappointing Alan Alda). Alda wants the twins to be happy, to pursue their ultimate dreams of being artists, but also to know that closing the factory would put the town in grave danger of running out of crayons. A tricky dilemma if ever there was one.
Without ruining the plot (hard to do, as there is little plot to speak of), much of what happens over the next excruciating 30 minutes is silly hijinks, ridiculous physical shtick, and the kind of mistaken-identity only Mr. Magoo could justify. And I have yet to mention the songs! Lyricist and composer Paul Schaeffer truly delivers disgusting drivel. With such songs as “In the Red” and “Kocker Mouth” (a tune discussing the childish and confusing code-word language the twins use with one another), it’s no wonder not a single toe is tapping. Well, at least not with musicality, but rather with impatience.
Viewers may be expecting salvation from the two lead characters, Jim and John Kocker, performed with blind exuberance by The Office’s John Krasinski and Seinfeld’s Jason Alexander, respectively. Alas, the viewer will be gravely disappointed. Krasinski is a doofus, tripping over his own feet and barely able to keep a straight face—which is odd, considering what he’s working with. Alexander, in turn, is just disgusting. No other words are applicable.
All in all, the film (it’s painful to even call it a film) leaves the audience wondering, “Why did I come here? Why did they make this?” Not good questions to be asking. True, writer/director John Cleese can be credited with putting forth a noble effort. Props for the title. It is the only facet that makes sense. In the film, the twins are faced with tough choices—maintain peace in the town or provoke chaos? Live in a world with crayons for all or live in a world without crayons for all? Keep the factory alive and thriving or shut it down? As expected, the choice is made for them. A third party miraculously arrives in town, harboring a lifelong dream to own a crayon factory. The twins are thus granted a path to fulfill their dreams, escaping the past that kept them mired in sadness.
As for the audience, the title takes on a much more personal feel. Exiting the theater through the back door while Peabo Bryson sings the pop-version of the song “Kockers on the Loose” is a wonderful feeling—there is truly no greater escape.
This film gets negative 5 thumbs up out of 5.
For starters, the initial set-up is pure traif. A poorly maneuvered helicopter shot opens the movie, slowly (and I do mean slowly) zooming in on Kocker & Sons Crayon Factory. We are soon introduced to two bungling morons, Jim and John Kocker, twin heirs to the factory fortune. As is painfully predictable, Kocker Senior kicks the bucket, drifting off into presumable purgatory, but not before delivering a drawn-out, incredibly laborious monologue concerning the future of Kocker & Sons (annoyingly whispered by the ever-disappointing Alan Alda). Alda wants the twins to be happy, to pursue their ultimate dreams of being artists, but also to know that closing the factory would put the town in grave danger of running out of crayons. A tricky dilemma if ever there was one.
Without ruining the plot (hard to do, as there is little plot to speak of), much of what happens over the next excruciating 30 minutes is silly hijinks, ridiculous physical shtick, and the kind of mistaken-identity only Mr. Magoo could justify. And I have yet to mention the songs! Lyricist and composer Paul Schaeffer truly delivers disgusting drivel. With such songs as “In the Red” and “Kocker Mouth” (a tune discussing the childish and confusing code-word language the twins use with one another), it’s no wonder not a single toe is tapping. Well, at least not with musicality, but rather with impatience.
Viewers may be expecting salvation from the two lead characters, Jim and John Kocker, performed with blind exuberance by The Office’s John Krasinski and Seinfeld’s Jason Alexander, respectively. Alas, the viewer will be gravely disappointed. Krasinski is a doofus, tripping over his own feet and barely able to keep a straight face—which is odd, considering what he’s working with. Alexander, in turn, is just disgusting. No other words are applicable.
All in all, the film (it’s painful to even call it a film) leaves the audience wondering, “Why did I come here? Why did they make this?” Not good questions to be asking. True, writer/director John Cleese can be credited with putting forth a noble effort. Props for the title. It is the only facet that makes sense. In the film, the twins are faced with tough choices—maintain peace in the town or provoke chaos? Live in a world with crayons for all or live in a world without crayons for all? Keep the factory alive and thriving or shut it down? As expected, the choice is made for them. A third party miraculously arrives in town, harboring a lifelong dream to own a crayon factory. The twins are thus granted a path to fulfill their dreams, escaping the past that kept them mired in sadness.
As for the audience, the title takes on a much more personal feel. Exiting the theater through the back door while Peabo Bryson sings the pop-version of the song “Kockers on the Loose” is a wonderful feeling—there is truly no greater escape.
This film gets negative 5 thumbs up out of 5.
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