This whole film is based on the premise that Natasha Henstridge cannot get a date. It seems reasonable to point out that any male who has seen "Species" would not only go out with Natasha, but would be willing to lie at the foot of the World Trade Center with his mouth open while Natasha squeezed a huge steamer off the 110th floor.
I laughed exactly twice in this film, a small burp of a laugh when a dog chased a little girl across the screen, then another big, obnoxious laugh toward the end, as I realized that sitting through this insufferable piece of crap had probably shortened my life by a few years, and that I could have better spent the two hours banging my penis between a couple of large rocks.
The story, if we insist on using that word, involves Luke Wilson meeting Natasha Henstridge, then living with some other woman while thinking about Natasha and getting advice from Janeane Garofalo along the lines of, "You need to be on your own for awhile." You would be correct in assuming that after an excruciatingly series of pointless meanderings around the dog park, Wilson and Henstridge meet and decide to give a relationship a try. That's it.
The film is advertised as being "from the mind of one of the creators of Kids in the Hall," or some such nonsense. I can only assume from such a statement that writer/director Bruce McCulloch had his brain transplanted into his rectum and that he writes his scripts using some sort of Morse code involving farting. At least that seems like an explanation which, if accepted, could allow one to resist the notion of hunting Bruce down with a couple of slavering rottweilers.
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