Cinemavenger

   The funniest, nastiest movie reviews anywhere.

Mr. Right

Your friendly, neighborhood Cinemavenger ain't afraid of no Coronavirus.  Or ghosts.  To prove it, I'm going to drink nothing but Corona and play with a Ouija board all night.  Then I'm heading to my local hospital to lick every doorknob before going bobbing for apples in a bin of used needles with the Wuhan Clan.  I'm just that bad a motherfucker.

So you can be surer than herpes on a harlot that flu fear had nothing to do with why I didn't make it to a new release at the movies again this week.  We're still inching our way out of the beginning of the year movie black hole, and there just isn't much in theaters to compete with the coke-fueled supermodel orgies that make up my average day. 

Plus, when I saw that Mr. Right was on Netflix, I had to check it out.  It stars Anna "Banana" Kendrick, Sam "I Always Feel Like Somebody's Watching Me" Rockwell, and Tim "Timmy!" Roth, three of my favorite words-sayers, and yet I'd never heard of it.  If this thing was in theaters, it was in and out faster than a virgin on speed.  The fact that it was "released" five years ago was also a bit of a nut scratcher.

Then I figured it out.  The Almighty Hollywood Algorithm spat this thing out on Netflix here in early 2020 for two obvious reasons.  First, Kendrick is as funny as she is easy on the eyes, so both men and women tend to like her.  Second, Rockwell played a key part in the recently Oscar'd Jojo Rabbit.  For the $1.50 Netflix probably paid for it, it was a guaranteed money maker.

Is Mr. Right a good movie?  Well, it's definitely a quirky movie.  Actually, given that Rockwell plays a dancing, banana-eating, clown nose-wearing hitman, and Kendrick goes full on wack job, it screams that it's a QUIRKY movie from its first shot.  Both leads are game enough, and Roth, despite a muddier than the Mississip' Southern accent, is as fun to watch as he was bleed out in Reservoir Dogs.  Which is all to say that while Mr. Right doesn't sniff great, it also doesn't get anywhere near fuckawful. 

You might not take Mr. Right home to meet the folks, but you'd definitely fuck it in the back seat of a Suzuki Sidekick.

March 6, 2020