Jackass 3D

Bomb Rating: 

Some shit just has a shelf life. Dumbass pranks fall squarely into that category. Sure, it was fun to jump your bike off of Old Man McCready's barn into a pile of horse manure when you were 15 years old, but now that you’re 35 with a mortgage and kids, those kind of hijinks just don’t have quite the same appeal. It's also a lot harder to explain to local law enforcement why you're running naked down the street in full clown makeup once past the tender age of 21 – especially if your other naked buddies are videotaping the spectacle.

Jackass 3D is kind of a sad testament to shit that used to be fun but is now just awkward and perhaps grounds for some kind of 12-step intervention process. This sequel to a sequel brings back the entire Jackass crew, lorded over by a skeletal Johnny Knoxville who honestly looks like he just spent four weeks in a crystal meth rehab center. For fuck's sake, almost everyone in this movie has now aged past the point where their bodies are able to recover from the dumb shit they spent the past ten years doing, and it shows. I'm talking scrawny, emaciated motherfuckers who appear as though they should be selling blood downtown to pay for habits that they no longer even understand, much less derive pleasure from. About the only ones in this movie who didn't make me cross myself were Bam Margera and Wee Man, who have both apparently parlayed their fame into a diet that consists of more than Red Bull and coke cut with broken glass.

Even sadder than the sallow, sunken-faced Jackass team are the stunts that they've had to recycle for their next hit off of the Hollywood crack pipe. Headbutts from livestock, shit and vomit erupting every 10 minutes and someone dressed up like an old man doing mildly disturbing things in public – you've seen it all before. Only in the past, there was less reliance on gross-out humor and more actual enthusiasm for trying something new and entertaining. Jackass 3D offers no joy and no hope – these bastards are locked into a prank assembly line that will see them having killer bees staple-gunned to their genitalia until they become too anemic for blood transfusions to save them.

And about that 3D bullshit – what the fuck is that all about? I had to sit there for two hours with some cheapo glasses on my face that probably had more lead in them than a New Jersey public water supply so that I could see someone's four-inch cock pop-fly a ping pong ball? No thanks, America – call me back when 3D involves me actually getting a hand job in the theatre from someone not wearing a black raincoat and Depends.

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I think you're being a little hard-on

RidingFool's picture

err, hard on people who wear Depends under raincoats. There's a reason for that, you know.

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