Parker

WARNING: This review is hidden because it reveals the content of the film.
Click here to show this review. There needs to be another rating that says," 4f -Sheer fantasy: pay for a ticket only if you don't have a life, or a brain". I was bored last night so I decided to take a gamble and go out to a movie, some luck! I've never seen a cops and robbers movie where a leading character gets so absolutely and totally beaten up every ten minutes or so - I mean absolutely bloodied and wounded beyond any normal man's ability to withstand such carnage - and who can still manage to get to his feet, go after his assailants full speed ahead and kill them all. I mean, c'mon... ! There are knives skewering the hand, knives through the back of necks, knives through the heart, knives through the chest, broken necks, shattered knees and legs, mass slaughter from guns and all around killings galore. Our baddie hero is a walking wreck who still gets the girls at the end, who apparently have no lives of their own, who are drawn to and taken in by this uppa-clahss speaking English neanderthal who knows no pain but who can nevertheless speak in a purfeck "Americun" accent because, as one gal says "... we-ell-ll...," with her eyelashes fluttering," ... that's just the wa-a-yy-y he IS!" How stupid are American women supposed to be these days? J Lo, sshmaylo! Those fat cat billionaires in Palm Beach, Florida where the story largely takes place, are not only filthy rich but the writer would have you believe that they are also totally deaf, dumb and blazing guns-challenged. Not one of 'em heard all those guns blazing away in their backyards and neighborhoods. They couldn't even be bothered to look out the window to see what all the fuss was about. You'd have thought that at least one of those wingnuts could have dialed 911 at the very least to let the cops know that all was not well in la-la-land but hell, no such luck. By comparison in my neighborhood, the simple act of an alley cat turning over a tin garbage bin can be met with a fleet of city squad cars, with lights a-flashing and the old red and whites a-twirling, careening full tilt into the alleyway with cop guns drawn ready to send anything that moves into the next life. But then again, filthy rich fat cats like Romney who occupy their own parallel universes aren't even sure they live in a place called America and besides the movie more or less insinuates that the super-rich deserve to be robbed by such ruthless Robin Hood-like characters such as our hero, but anyway, he wasn't really the one doing the robbing the screen-writer says, it was our heros cohorts-turned-enemies who did the real robbing and who deserved to be deep-sixed n'so our hero killed them all and easily cleaned up the spilled loot, walking off with 50 million bucks in diamonds and other precious gems which he self-righteously and unselfishly shared with his two vacuous girlfriends and, oh yes, also with his old bank-robber partner. *yawn* *yawn*... someone give me a Tylenol, please. I mean... after this excuse for entertainment my brain hurts, my eyes are raw and my ears have become tone-deaf. The best and most humorous part of the story was when in a one-on-one fist/karate/knife fight to the death with an unknown assailent our hero grabs the lid of a bathroom toilet and cracks him over the head with it, momentarily putting the guys lights out whereupon the lid shatters after the hero drops it to the floor! I mean... duh-h-hh?