“How can you go on living your life knowing you harmed so many people?”
Mark my words: The Ridiculous 6 , the first of a multi-picture deal with Netflix, will sweep more awards than any other film in 2015. I’m talking about the Razzies of course, the statuettes dedicated to only the driest and most pungent dingleberries of the year. Normally I sit to review a movie and am done within an hour, the words flowing like vomit before being cleaned and scrubbed down to aseptically appease a reader. But here I cannot find coherence, or structure, or a suitable stake to mark the grounds of my critique because this movie is so damn bad. The Ridiculous 6’s worst grievance is its unknown ignorance that reduces the power of the entire comedic satire medium. The jokes don’t click, the politics falsify principles, and the picture stands for nothing, which is the epitome of America’s worst contemporary films. Ladies and gentlemen…we have finally found the deepest depths of the Sandler Sea, and they are more lifeless and shallow than we’ve come to expect. Surprise, surprise, surprise.
Adam Sandler, a victim of his own intolerable indifference, stars as White Knife. He’s a Caucasian man raised by “Injuns”, taught to respect women, shepherd his flock of fools, and be as quick as a gunslinger with a blade. The Ridiculous 6 kinda sits there like a dirty load of week’s old laundry in dire need of a high-speed cycle to wash away its overflowing bleached hate. And somehow, while the movie constantly succumbs to the overshadowing and ghoulish presence of the film’s own worthless lead character, it is a breeze to look at. 60 million dollars was thrown into this production budget. Most of that barely makes its way on-screen, I’m sure, but what does is visually appealing and nothing more. Then you remember the inflated budget, and the story about long-lost thieves banding together through their father’s poor sperm donations and allocations, and wish it had deposited the specimens elsewhere. Abort, abort, abort.
White Knife may as well be Batman, witnessing his Mother’s death and left orphaned by a criminal father. He’s driven by vengeance. Incredulously, Sandler employs all of the same talents as in his last few comedy ensembles. We even get the likes of Dan Patrick as Abraham Lincoln and Vanilla Ice as an absurdly hip Mark Twain. Both are as funny as they read. But the most notable trouble is the length of the film, running a massive two hours, continuing to siphon for fuel from an empty well. This is more like old games of tag on the recess grounds than it is filmmaking, and by the umpteenth time a new member of the fraternity jumps in to play, yelling and screaming “you’re it!”, our brains shut down to prevent further draining damage. I mean, what’s funny about a half-wit (an exasperating Taylor Lautner) fondly recalling the pleasures of servicing himself with a cantaloupe? Shame, shame, shame.
For whatever reason Sandler’s movies have become increasingly depraved and obscene. We’re supposed to find laughs in a man playing a piano with his pecker, a burro who has explosive diarrhea on those he likes, and a man gouging out his lone good eye. The thing is, all of those could work in a better movie. There’s nothing impossible in cinema. Looking back on Blazing Saddles, a film that this clearly tries to copy, you gloss over the satire’s blatant racism. And you do so because it knows how to be a satire, whereas this is a broad story pieced together and seemingly written with pop-up parts for whoever wanted to join the cast. The success of Blazing Saddles is a credit to Richard Pryor for properly handling the racially driven jokes. All Sandler can do is throw up his white flag and pen down bathroom humor. At one point, his character disguises himself as tumbleweed, and had this been set in modern-day, that’d be the equivalent of a plastic bag drifting through a Wal-Mart parking lot. Not even the American Beauty loner would look at such rubbish and say, “this is beautiful.” Trash, trash, trash.
“I don’t think he’s waking up from that one.”
Rating: 0 out of 5