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Tuesday, September 02, 2008


Yesterday was a lovely day out. The sky was a startling blue, like gazing up into the eye of God Himself, and I couldn’t help but feel humbled and blessed to be alive in our beautiful valley. The first glimmer of autumn hinted at its arrival by painting the oak behind my house a vibrant gold and orange. And how did I celebrate such a magnificent afternoon? I descended into the darkness of the Essex Cinemas and watched the worst movie of the year. I know I said in my review of Disaster Movie that Speed Racer held that title, but that was before I saw College, and, trust me, College makes Speed Racer look like Academy Award winning material by comparison.

It’s hard to even know what to say or where to begin with this hot mess. The first shocker is that this poor excuse for adolescent boys to come to the movies just to see a lot of topless women, and guys drinking and puking, is directed by a woman. Then again, that woman is Deb Hagen, and she has only one other credit to her name, a 2004 (!) short called Pee Shy. I guess it totally makes sense then that the focus on urine throughout this picture must have been right up her alley, but for me, it was just one more reason to be pissed off at the whole sloppy movie.

The D-list cast of barely known’s stars Drake Bell of Nickelodeon’s hit kid show "Drake & Josh",
whose only reason to be here it would seem is so he can channel his inner adult and drop “the F bomb” a few dozen times in front of a camera. He plays Kevin and is what passes as the high school hunk of this flaccid comedy. Joining him is 2006 “American Idol” reject Kevin Covais (the one they called “Chicken Little” for obvious reasons) as his nerdy friend Morris, and rounding out the trio is the rotund, foul-mouthed and sex-obsessed Carter (Andrew Caldwell; Drillbit Taylor).

There’s not much of a plot other than that Morris needs to meet with a scholarship committee at a college his father and grandfather attended, so he feels a great responsibility to be at his best while visiting there, yada yada yada. Instead the guys crash at a fraternity where the frat brothers treat them like sh… well, you can imagine.

Let me say that the only other people in the theater with me were four kids around the age of ten or eleven, without a parent or guardian as supervisor. I asked before the movie started what they were doing in the theater since this was an “R” rated film and they said one of their mothers had purchased the tickets for them. I am forever amazed at the lack of thought parents put into raising their children today. They can be so lazy or just don’t care about what goes in their kids’ heads, but I can’t imagine the mother who would be proud to admit that she sent her ten year-old son to a movie where he watched high school boys being forced to guzzle whiskey poured through the hairy ass crack of a gay frat brother, or later, when her son views a scene that includes Verne Troyer (“Mini-me”) taking aim to urinate in Kevin’s mouth. Would mom brag to the PTA that her son is the first one in the fourth grade to watch simulated oral, vaginal and anal sex as well as sex with a blow-up doll?

Those are the sort of things that I’d have loved to ask her when she came to pick the kids up when
College was finally over, but, in what can only be expected from the typical parent who would let her kids go to such a stinker, Mom was nowhere to be seen. That’s right. She was late and the kids were stuck sitting out front waiting for a ride, and not just for a few minutes either because I stopped to chat with Essex Cinemas’ manager Dale Chapman for 20 minutes or so before I finally went to my car. Obviously, she was not making them a top priority.

I wouldn’t make
College a top priority either. There’s not much more than what I just described, and unless you enjoy losing your time, money, and perhaps even your lunch, you’d be better off flunking out of this crapfest yourself.

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