Throughout my adult life, I've been about as big of a fan of movie critic Rex Reed as Oscar the Grouch has been a fan of morning people with the last name of Sunshine. Sadly, when comparing the two, Oscar appears to be the more pleasant of the two specimens.
Before delving into my most recent beef with Mr. Reed, here's a brief list of his past controversies:
- For the South Korean film Oldboy, Reed wrote, "What else can you expect from a nation weaned on kimchi, a mixture of raw garlic and cabbage buried underground until it rots, dug up from the grave and then served in earthenware pots sold at the Seoul airport as souvenirs?"
- With regard to the Melissa McCarthy movie Identity Thief, Reed described the lead actress of the film with the following words: "tractor-sized," "humongous," "obese," and a "hippo."
- Reed was called out by The L Magazine's Henry Stewart for his review of the 2012 film The Cabin in the Woods, alleging "his review is literally about 50 percent inaccurate-factually, objectively wrong."
- The critic was also caught walking out of the film V/H/S/2 after just watching the first 20 minutes of it. After continuing to write a review for a film which he didn't see in its entirety, journalist Sam Adams called out Reed, saying he was "making a mockery of a noble profession while intelligent critics scramble for crumbs all around him."
So what did Oscar the Grouch's evil twin do this time? He wrote review, entitled, "'Mother! Is the Worst Movie of the Year, Maybe Century." Yes, the man loves subtlety like cats love tag-alongs named Shadow.
Here's how the grinch of film critique started his review:
"From the idiotic drug-addict hokum Requiem for a Dream to the overrated, overwrought and over-hyped Black Swan, which I called 'a lavishly staged Repulsion in toe shoes,' the films of wack job Darren Aronofsky have shown a dark passion for exploring twisted souls in torment. But nothing he's done before to poison the ozone layer prepared me for mother!, an exercise in torture and hysteria so over the top that i didn't know whether to scream or laugh out loud. Stealing ideas from Polanski, Fellini and Kubrick, he's jerrybuilt an absurd Freudian nightmare that is more wet dream than bad dream, with the subtlety of a chainsaw."
Idiotic? Overrated? Wack job? Subtlety of a chainsaw? It appears as though Mr. Reed is projecting here, doesn't it? Let's see what else Mr. Subtlety of a Chainsaw has to say...
"This delusional freak show is two hours of pretentious twaddle that tackles religion, paranoia, lust, rebellion, and a thirst for blood in a circus of grotesque debauchery to prove that being a woman requires emotional sacrifice and physical agony at the cost of everything else in life, including life itself. That may or may not be what Aronofsky had in mind, but it comes as close to a logical interpretation as any of the other lunk-headed ideas I've read or heard. The reviews, in which a group of equally pretentious critics frustratingly search for a deeper meaning, are even nuttier than the film itself. Using descriptions like 'hermeneutic structure,' 'phantasmagoric fantasia,' 'cinematic Rorsach test' and 'extended scream of existential rage,' they sure know how to leave you laughing."
Okay, so one thing appears to be for certain: Rex Reed is not seeking an invite to a movie critics party any time soon. Moving on...
"Although you will spend most of the painful, torturous and stressful two hours it takes to survive mother! trying to figure out what it's all about, I advise you to ignore the reviews entirely and make up your own fantasy. One critic says it's a satire on the chaos the dysfunctional world has been turned into by Donald Trump. Another says the title refers to the role played by Jennifer Lawrence, the director's current personal squeeze and cinematic muse, whom he slobbers over in endlessly annoying close-ups that emphasize her flaws and rob the viewer of the power of self-discovery. One reviewer says she plays the quintessential Earth mother who works feverishly to restore balance to a planet Earth that is being constantly torn apart by wickedness and savagery. I love the review that compares the movie to the 'lancing of a boil.' They all insist mother! is a metaphor for something, although they are not quite sure what it is. The only thing I agree with is that the film is indeed original. I admired the camerawork, the wide-angle close-ups of flaring nostrils, and the pandemonium of the crowd scenes in the second half of the film when it goes haywire and insanity reign. It's an odd sensation to still remember moments of technical brilliance in a movie I never want to see again. The actress's face occupies a full 66 minutes of the 120-minute running time, so I've seen quite enough of her, too."
Is is just me or does it appear as though Mr. Reed is one of those individuals who, whenever stumped, criticizes that which stumped him in order to convince himself he's intelligent? Okay, so what else do you have to say, Mr. Mensa?
"Lawrence, a woman restrained almost to the point of madness, lives in a creepy, remote mansion in the middle of nowhere with her husband (Javier Bardem), a rugged poet who refuses to give her a baby or even take her to bed. (Can a sensitive poet with erectile dysfunction also be an alpha male? Just asking.) As she grows more understandably neurotic every day, the house is invaded by nameless strangers (Ed Harris and gorgeous Michelle Pfeiffer, looking unbelievably haggard) who interrupt the woman's idyllic life with rude questions about sex, marriage, and why she isn't trying harder to procreate. Every effort to throw them out is thwarted by her husband, who craves attention and idolatry from his fans. Then their two sons arrive, bringing violence and mayhem. Dishes smash. Furniture is demolished. A murder is committed. A mysterious bloodstain appears on the floor, opening up a hole to the story below. Soon the house is filled with mourners, all encouraged to stay as long as they like by the husband, who ignores his wife's ensuing breakdown. Aronofsky derives tension from strange sounds and occurrences-a dying bee, a hot frying pan, an exploding light bulb covered with blood-filmed with unbearable tedium. As the uninvited guests grow in number, wrecking the plumbing, flooding the house with water, and littering the rooms with garbage, you begin to suspect there's more to this depravity than misguided hospitality. Lawrence goes nuts before the audience does, displaying a remarkable talent for screaming 'Stop!' at the top of her lungs-something I wished I had thought of first."
Oddly enough, many readers of Rex's work wish they had thought of that as well ("Stop!"). Anything else you'd like to add?
"Just when you think she's had all she can take, there's more. A baby is born amidst blood-curdling screams of childbirth as Lawrence crawls over piles of corpses in labor, and unruly mobs carrying torches arrive in a scene that looks based on the Charlottesville riots. In the ultimate destruction of the female gender, Lawrence tries to save the baby she has always dreamed of to make life complete, but Fellini grotesques in preposterous Halloween costumes fill the screen and burn the house down. The New York Times critic arrogantly warns in his review: 'Don't listen to anyone who natters on about how intense or disturbing it is.' Sorry, pal, but a mob that burns a screaming baby and its mother alive, then turns cannibal, eats the baby and rips its heart out to flush down the toilet while Patti Smith sings about the end of the world pretty much fits my definition of both 'intense' and 'disturbing.' What's yours?"
I don't want to speak for the New York Times critic, but I'm guessing his/her response would be, "Oh, I don't know, reading a review of yours." Okay, let's wrap this up...
"Nothing about mother! makes one lick of sense as Darren Aronofsky's corny vision of madness turns more hilarious than scary. With so much crap around to clog the drain, I hesitate to label it the 'Worst movie of the year' when 'Worst movie of the century' fits even better."
Ah, there we have it, the real reason Reed couldn't stand the movie - it didn't make any sense to him. So not only is Rex Reed "bigly" less pleasant to be around than Oscar the Grouch while neglecting to take his antidepressants, he's far less intelligent than he often projects himself to be. With qualities like that, it's amazing Donald Trump hasn't offered Mr. Reed a Cabinet position. Yes, I may have spoken too soon...
http://observer.com/2017/09/darren-aronofsky-mother-worst-movie-of-the-year/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rex_Reed
Before delving into my most recent beef with Mr. Reed, here's a brief list of his past controversies:
- For the South Korean film Oldboy, Reed wrote, "What else can you expect from a nation weaned on kimchi, a mixture of raw garlic and cabbage buried underground until it rots, dug up from the grave and then served in earthenware pots sold at the Seoul airport as souvenirs?"
- With regard to the Melissa McCarthy movie Identity Thief, Reed described the lead actress of the film with the following words: "tractor-sized," "humongous," "obese," and a "hippo."
- Reed was called out by The L Magazine's Henry Stewart for his review of the 2012 film The Cabin in the Woods, alleging "his review is literally about 50 percent inaccurate-factually, objectively wrong."
- The critic was also caught walking out of the film V/H/S/2 after just watching the first 20 minutes of it. After continuing to write a review for a film which he didn't see in its entirety, journalist Sam Adams called out Reed, saying he was "making a mockery of a noble profession while intelligent critics scramble for crumbs all around him."
So what did Oscar the Grouch's evil twin do this time? He wrote review, entitled, "'Mother! Is the Worst Movie of the Year, Maybe Century." Yes, the man loves subtlety like cats love tag-alongs named Shadow.
Here's how the grinch of film critique started his review:
"From the idiotic drug-addict hokum Requiem for a Dream to the overrated, overwrought and over-hyped Black Swan, which I called 'a lavishly staged Repulsion in toe shoes,' the films of wack job Darren Aronofsky have shown a dark passion for exploring twisted souls in torment. But nothing he's done before to poison the ozone layer prepared me for mother!, an exercise in torture and hysteria so over the top that i didn't know whether to scream or laugh out loud. Stealing ideas from Polanski, Fellini and Kubrick, he's jerrybuilt an absurd Freudian nightmare that is more wet dream than bad dream, with the subtlety of a chainsaw."
Idiotic? Overrated? Wack job? Subtlety of a chainsaw? It appears as though Mr. Reed is projecting here, doesn't it? Let's see what else Mr. Subtlety of a Chainsaw has to say...
"This delusional freak show is two hours of pretentious twaddle that tackles religion, paranoia, lust, rebellion, and a thirst for blood in a circus of grotesque debauchery to prove that being a woman requires emotional sacrifice and physical agony at the cost of everything else in life, including life itself. That may or may not be what Aronofsky had in mind, but it comes as close to a logical interpretation as any of the other lunk-headed ideas I've read or heard. The reviews, in which a group of equally pretentious critics frustratingly search for a deeper meaning, are even nuttier than the film itself. Using descriptions like 'hermeneutic structure,' 'phantasmagoric fantasia,' 'cinematic Rorsach test' and 'extended scream of existential rage,' they sure know how to leave you laughing."
Okay, so one thing appears to be for certain: Rex Reed is not seeking an invite to a movie critics party any time soon. Moving on...
"Although you will spend most of the painful, torturous and stressful two hours it takes to survive mother! trying to figure out what it's all about, I advise you to ignore the reviews entirely and make up your own fantasy. One critic says it's a satire on the chaos the dysfunctional world has been turned into by Donald Trump. Another says the title refers to the role played by Jennifer Lawrence, the director's current personal squeeze and cinematic muse, whom he slobbers over in endlessly annoying close-ups that emphasize her flaws and rob the viewer of the power of self-discovery. One reviewer says she plays the quintessential Earth mother who works feverishly to restore balance to a planet Earth that is being constantly torn apart by wickedness and savagery. I love the review that compares the movie to the 'lancing of a boil.' They all insist mother! is a metaphor for something, although they are not quite sure what it is. The only thing I agree with is that the film is indeed original. I admired the camerawork, the wide-angle close-ups of flaring nostrils, and the pandemonium of the crowd scenes in the second half of the film when it goes haywire and insanity reign. It's an odd sensation to still remember moments of technical brilliance in a movie I never want to see again. The actress's face occupies a full 66 minutes of the 120-minute running time, so I've seen quite enough of her, too."
Is is just me or does it appear as though Mr. Reed is one of those individuals who, whenever stumped, criticizes that which stumped him in order to convince himself he's intelligent? Okay, so what else do you have to say, Mr. Mensa?
"Lawrence, a woman restrained almost to the point of madness, lives in a creepy, remote mansion in the middle of nowhere with her husband (Javier Bardem), a rugged poet who refuses to give her a baby or even take her to bed. (Can a sensitive poet with erectile dysfunction also be an alpha male? Just asking.) As she grows more understandably neurotic every day, the house is invaded by nameless strangers (Ed Harris and gorgeous Michelle Pfeiffer, looking unbelievably haggard) who interrupt the woman's idyllic life with rude questions about sex, marriage, and why she isn't trying harder to procreate. Every effort to throw them out is thwarted by her husband, who craves attention and idolatry from his fans. Then their two sons arrive, bringing violence and mayhem. Dishes smash. Furniture is demolished. A murder is committed. A mysterious bloodstain appears on the floor, opening up a hole to the story below. Soon the house is filled with mourners, all encouraged to stay as long as they like by the husband, who ignores his wife's ensuing breakdown. Aronofsky derives tension from strange sounds and occurrences-a dying bee, a hot frying pan, an exploding light bulb covered with blood-filmed with unbearable tedium. As the uninvited guests grow in number, wrecking the plumbing, flooding the house with water, and littering the rooms with garbage, you begin to suspect there's more to this depravity than misguided hospitality. Lawrence goes nuts before the audience does, displaying a remarkable talent for screaming 'Stop!' at the top of her lungs-something I wished I had thought of first."
Oddly enough, many readers of Rex's work wish they had thought of that as well ("Stop!"). Anything else you'd like to add?
"Just when you think she's had all she can take, there's more. A baby is born amidst blood-curdling screams of childbirth as Lawrence crawls over piles of corpses in labor, and unruly mobs carrying torches arrive in a scene that looks based on the Charlottesville riots. In the ultimate destruction of the female gender, Lawrence tries to save the baby she has always dreamed of to make life complete, but Fellini grotesques in preposterous Halloween costumes fill the screen and burn the house down. The New York Times critic arrogantly warns in his review: 'Don't listen to anyone who natters on about how intense or disturbing it is.' Sorry, pal, but a mob that burns a screaming baby and its mother alive, then turns cannibal, eats the baby and rips its heart out to flush down the toilet while Patti Smith sings about the end of the world pretty much fits my definition of both 'intense' and 'disturbing.' What's yours?"
I don't want to speak for the New York Times critic, but I'm guessing his/her response would be, "Oh, I don't know, reading a review of yours." Okay, let's wrap this up...
"Nothing about mother! makes one lick of sense as Darren Aronofsky's corny vision of madness turns more hilarious than scary. With so much crap around to clog the drain, I hesitate to label it the 'Worst movie of the year' when 'Worst movie of the century' fits even better."
Ah, there we have it, the real reason Reed couldn't stand the movie - it didn't make any sense to him. So not only is Rex Reed "bigly" less pleasant to be around than Oscar the Grouch while neglecting to take his antidepressants, he's far less intelligent than he often projects himself to be. With qualities like that, it's amazing Donald Trump hasn't offered Mr. Reed a Cabinet position. Yes, I may have spoken too soon...
http://observer.com/2017/09/darren-aronofsky-mother-worst-movie-of-the-year/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rex_Reed
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