During this film I wished I was a dog, so I could laugh at the silly humans sitting in the movie theater having the life sucked right out of them while I sat, curled up in a corner, licking myself. If you have an I.Q. over seventy-five and are older than about ten, it's impossible to sit through this film without asking yourself, "Hey, why aren't I at home pouring boiling water on my genitals?"
I don't care what proof anyone can offer me -- I'm convinced this film was shot without a script. Paramount Pictures just gave Chris Farley, David Spade and director Penelope Spheeris a few million dollars and said, "ah, just make it up as you go along." Seems Al Donnelly (Tim Matheson) is running for governor but he's got an idiot brother named Mike (Farley) who's embarrassing the campaign, so they hire one of the staff, Steve (Spade), to take care of him. After fat, stupid Mike does injury to himself and nearly kills a few people, Steve takes him out into the woods where Mike bumps his head into things and falls down a hill. Then they come back and as brother Al is losing the election Mike notices that a county has tallied more votes than voters. "Something ain't right," he says, before saving his brother's campaign from his corrupt opponent.
The only woman in the film is a bitch. The only blacks in the films are white-hating, ganja-smoking, reggae-playing Jamaicans. Two minutes of this on Saturday Night Live is bad enough. An hour-and-a-half movie is some kind of hell. But here's a way to enjoy some autonomy: Every time Chris Farley hurts himself, cheer loudly for him not to get up.
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