Penis Penis Penis
And Something About The Eagle or Whatever
Hi, everyone. Thanks for coming. Before we get to the movie review, I've got a little HR paperwork to take care of. Specifically: YOU AND YOU AND YOU AND YOU AND ESPECIALLY YOU ARE ALL FIRED FOR NOT TELLING ME ABOUT CHANNING TATUM'S HILARIOUS PENIS INJURY. Do I have to go over it again? There is only one rule in this office: ABC. Say it with me: Always Be Checking (on the state of Channing Tatum's penis and alerting Lindy as to whether or not it is on fire). Put that mug down. Coffee is for penis checkers. You make me sick.
Apparently, during the filming of The Eagle (getting to that—calm yourselves) C-Tates's penis—or, as I call it, the Royal Tater Tot—caught a bit of a chill. So some enterprising "crew member" (my money's on Donald Sutherland, that mischievous imp) took it upon himself to grab a whistling kettle of water, pour it down the front of C-Tates's wet suit, and thereby boil his penis alive like a fingerling potato or small mud lobster. "It just went straight down and pretty much burned the skin off the head of my dick," Tatum told Details magazine (IN JANUARY OF 2010—FIRED!!!), adding, "I'm good... now. Now my penis is fantastic! One hundred percent recovered. Put me back in the game, Coach." Thank you, Baby Jesus. I will never make fun of you for not existing ever again.
So anyway, the movie. Tatum plays this one dude named Marcus, a Roman centurion who volunteers to take charge of the jankiest, most-barbarian-surrounded Roman fort in all of Britain. The men of the fort think he's just another soft, pink, bureaucratic ladyboy ("Where's our newly minted commander?" "Probably unpacking his rule book"), so they're shocked when he turns out to be megagood at impaling hill people. Secretly, though, Marcus is only there because he has a plan to climb over Hadrian's Wall and find this stupid golden eagle baton that his dead dad lost two decades earlier.
Before he can get going on his plan, however, Marcus is wounded in battle and has to go lie down for a while. The Romans award him the Bangle Bracelet of Conspicuous Gallantry and pack him off to kooky Uncle Sutherland's house to eat grapes and bang wenches until the end of time. Then Marcus cries for 100 days because all he can think about is those dirty Scottish cave mutants playing with his dad's sparkly eagle rod. So as soon as he can, he takes his slave/BFF Billy Elliott and heads north.
Basically, this is a buddy-cop comedy about imperialism and mud. To its credit, The Eagle does touch on the fact that Marcus wouldn't have to ride into hostile territory to steal his dad's eagle staff back from those barbarians if his dad hadn't marched up there in the first place to bonk said barbarians to death with said eagle staff. Dummy. On the other hand, C-Tates only takes his shirt off like once and boinks exactly zero feral mountain ladies. Rip-off. I give this movie a B. And, yes, you are still fired.