Imagine you're Spike Lee in 1994: you just made this masterpiece and then some shithead named Quentin Tarantino steals your guy Samuel L. Jackson, slides 40 uses of the n-word into a cold post-modern pastiche of coldly calculated "coolness", wins the Palme d'Or and enduring acclaim, while becoming permanently engrained into the popular consciousness of the Western world, meanwhile you get shit all except some middling reviews.
Some bullshit.
Interesting: some of us have been claiming that raunchy comedies have entered a period, beginning around 2016 - maybe earlier with films like Bridesmaids - that sees them reinvent themselves as "progressive" by imagining the same movies with the gender of the protagonists swapped to female. And yet, here we have this 2002 flick penned by a female screenwriter featuring Cameron Diaz poked in the eye with gloryhole genitalia, Selma Blair getting a penis piercing caught on her tonsils, and…
Cezanne: I hate everything!
Zola: C'mon pal, cheer up.
Cezanne: U and all your friends are fake af and copy better artists.
Zola: Whoa there, that's not true!
Cezanne: Yeah it is and ur a little bourgeosie bitch.
Zola: I'm trying to be your friend.
Cezanne: ALL I GET TO DO IS PAINT PICTURES OF BEAUTIFUL NUDE WOMEN IN BEAUTIFUL FRENCH LANDSCAPES AND IT IS TEARING ME APART. (exits scene)
Zola (turns to camera): He's such a genius. What a special bond we have.
FIN.
No, "Batman v Superman" is not the disaster that critics are making it out to be. It is also not the masterpiece early fan reviews made it out to be. Instead, it falls in the middle ground, like most entries into the superhero genre.
There are some terrific highs in this movie. Jesse Eisenberg channels his Mark Zuckerberg from "The Social Network" brilliantly into egomaniacal genius Lex Luthor, and when Hans Zimmer and Junkie XL's diabolical theme kicks in one…
