Saturday, March 28, 2009

Tammy and the T-Rex


Once in a blue moon, modern cinema will purge all normalities and excrete on the idea of a mercy rule to what films should be green lit. Out of this chaos erupts what is known as a "sleeper hit" and with this holy grail of cinema does film academia find itself a barren oasis. Film making techniques can no longer benefit society. The only thing left is a flourishing vat of knowledge called Tammy and the T-Rex. From this experience, you will gain gusto and marvel at subversive techniques at creating homosexual tension and race discrimination once more. It's once again cool to laugh at the queers as you watch a black, gay, only child get mocked by his father's deputies warning each other not to drop anything.


Think Carnosaur with a touch of sexually charged Howard the Duck moments. This divine interaction of both man and machine warrants a strict emotional hard hat zone. From the mental concept of Tammy and the T-Rex, the words "Hallmark" and "ABC Family" spring immediately to mind. Furthermore, you'd be a damn fool to expect a family friendly environment from this film. Soon into the film's precious running time, you're treated to excessive homophobia and a mock Kwanzaa enthusiast. Before you have time to catch your breath from the colorful, yet subversive hate speech you are soon catapulted into a "testicular standoff" with a young Paul Walker wearing a crop-top and a virtually unknown George Pilgrim. After seeing this scene, we begin to make conjectures as to why Mr. Pilgrim had such a short acting career. The answer? He couldn't handle the immense popularity he no doubt received from starring in this dinosaur arthouse experiment.

Who's awesome? You're awesome!

Seen here, Paul Walker was an early example of motion capture technology. As you see Walker-Rex awkwardly waddle down a green screened street, it's easy to imagine Paul Walker making these same awkward movements especially if you've seen his long jump in the new Fast & the Furious trailer pre-Soulja Boy version. If any of this were the truth, Paul Walker would had to of had his shins bludgeoned with a nail bat in order to recreate the painful movements created by the animatronic crew. Mechanical puppeteers have never before been witnessed to create accidental art other than in the case of Tammy and the T-Rex. Before I get carried away on the royal excellence of many subjects advocated in this trash piece, allow me first to alleviate confusion that I've caused with this review of a grandiose opera. Paul Walker is the rebound bitch to a young Denise Richards. Her ex-boyfriend doesn't like this very much so one night he kidnaps Paul Walker and leaves him in a wild animal reserve to be mauled by a lion. Enter mad scientist Dr. Wachenstein who hatches a plan to burgle Paul Walker's brain to transplant it into a mechanical T-Rex. After awaking to find himself in the body of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, Walker-Rex decides to get his girlfriend to help him find his body. Also, Dinosaurs dialing pay phones.


Knowing what you know about the contents within this explosive package, do you find yourself brave enough to have your expectations blown out of the water? I didn't, in fact, I walked into this film with no knowledge of the synopsis other than an image of Denise Richards straddling a Mesozoic creature with her infamous grin that shocked fanboys alike with her performance in Starship Troopers. In case you haven't seen Starship Troopers, Denise Richards plays the "piteous bitch" who broke Johnny Rico's heart. While Tammy and the T-Rex unfolded, I found the many thematic twists and turns to be utterly shocking. So many scenes with differing emotional weights do nothing but leave you in a constant state of sensitized whiplash. With my final words approaching, the viable labels for placing this film in a specific genre could be range from anything. For instance, Tammy and the T-Rex could be the greatest and only contemporary film noir with dinosaurs.


Tammy and the T-Rex reminds us exactly why the moving image was created and crafted into the largest form of entertainment today. This is a film that will throw some light romance at you, mix in some gang violence, pop out some premature urban humor, and then ravage the light-hearted mood with a botched castration via T-Rex foot. Some people beg to reveal to thyself the meaning of life. I, however, find myself asking what the meaning of cinema is. Well, my friends, the meaning of cinema is Tammy and the T-Rex. This is dutifully illustrated by the scene following a fight in which Denise Richards lets out a guttural wail that sounds as if a Yeti throat fucked her upon birth. I have long awaited the eventual reinvention and postmodern prototype of the directorial process and this is it, no strings attached...cause it's animatronic. Get it?

A very special thanks goes out to Nachtraaf for uploading this beauty.


-mAQ

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