And then there is the movie Body Shots, which is a new type of pain altogether.
How bad is Body Shots? Bad enough that the audience booed it at the screening. A free screening, no less. Wow.
The story (if it matters) goes something like this: Eight twentysomethings (four men, four women) spend a night drinking at a club. They each get plowed, tanked, blotto! Crazy things happen, things like:
1. Sex in a parking lot...
2. Sleeping in a gutter...
3. and Rape -- oh my!
The next morning, the eight of them try to patch together the previous night. Relationships are ruined. Friendships are made. Charges are filed.
This is what happens when you get drunk. At least that's what Body Shots says. Not "this can happen," but "this will happen." It's like an after-school special for twentysomethings (who, of course, are all really attractive and all really successful). For two hours Body Shots lectures the audience on the perils of mass alcohol consumption (duh), informs us that sex in a parking lot with someone you don't know can lead to awkward situations (really?), and enlightens us about the fact that drunk football players sometimes force themselves on women (no shit?).
But these lectures aren't even the biggest problem with Body Shots: The worst part is that the film is completely condescending to the audience. Employing about the laziest storytelling tool around, the film's characters often address the audience directly, offering their insights on love and sex and alcohol. The actors, all of whom are relative unknowns (except for the fat kid from Stand By Me), stumble through these moments, trying their damnedest to flesh out their meager characters, talking down to us like we're eighth graders. But even eighth graders would find these characters annoying.
At its worst, Body Shots borders on offensive. At its best... oh, never mind.
Body Shots Bites
Body Shots Bites
