Here's something you never wanted to know about me. I was a Roman Catholic altar boy. No, seriously, that's a fact. Every Saturday evening, I would race past the gang territory that surrounded my church and balance candles as various priests condemned the congregation that decided to go to the Saturday evening mass as opposed to the Sunday morning mass. God hates people who sleep in on the day of rest. It was an interesting job and with the occasional wedding and funeral proved to be quite lucrative. Unfortunately, God and I had a falling out and, despite his constant telephone calls and apology notes, I decided to worship the God of cynicism. Now, Chevy Chase is my God, followed by the saint of chain smoking Dennis Leary. For those of your who still believe, read the review of Dogma, may the peace of the Lord be with you.
Welcome to the end of reality as we know it. No, I'm not talking about another PBS fundraiser. Those are cool. Here's the deal: Two angels on Earth find a loophole in church doctrine that would allow them to return to heaven, good for them. Not good for us, though. By returning to heaven, they would inadvertently return the universe into nothing. Everything's cool though, God will stop it. Well, maybe not, God is currently missing in action. The voice of God decides to get the second best operative heaven has to offer, the lady from Men in Black. Combine her sense of brooding with that of Jay, Silent Bob, the Sheriff of Nottingham, Salma Hayek, and Chris Rock, and humanity might have a shot. On the other hand, we might just have another crap movie on our hands. Quickly read the title of the column and repeat that last word.
Dogma is one of those films that you want to work. As with most of Smith's work, attention is paid to dialogue over plot. The result is a piece filled with sharp wit and plot holes the size of Utah. For the most part, the acting is a mixture of hot and cold with most of the cast nailing their parts while Jason Mewes stares blankly ahead, figuring out how to make Chris Rock's head into a bong. Kevin Smith wanted to make a movie that offended. Unfortunately along the way, he succeeded in showing why he's an armchair director with a fading career and a loyal, if not completely misguided, following.
The film works for some people. For the rest of us who have seen movies outside of the Kevin Smith universe, the movie is a vague attempt at a message, with a collection of fart jokes thrown in to entertain the sixteen-year-olds who pay to see everything Kevin Smith does.
Your Moment of Insanity:Newman, you got your girlfriend drunk at last years Christmas party and then paid a kid from the mailroom to have sex with her while she was passed out, just so you could break up with her guilt-free when she sobbingly confessed in the morning. (Interesting fact, I made twelve bucks off this deal.)
You Should Look Out For:
Did You Know:Kevin Smith successfully protested his own film. Okay, I retract everything bad I've ever said about the man and officially return his status to awesome. Wait, he's still Kevin Smith, this means he's a thirty-something child.
A Stevehenish Tagline:Kevin Smith finds God. He was next to the car keys.
Words Thrown Together in Hopes of Pulling in Random Google Users
"Kevin Smith is the greatest director of all time"
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