New York Minute

Bomb Rating: 

If you stand under a urinating elephant, you're going to get pissed on.

I would like anybody (teenage girls excepted) who thought this film would be even remotely tolerable to stand up now and walk to the middle of an open field far away from other people, because I can absolutely guarantee that you are about to spontaneously explode due to the overwhelming pressure of your own stupidity.

Seriously, it's hard enough being Mr. Cranky without getting e-mails from dipshits with this basic message: "Dude, why didn't you review (insert name of any movie for which you are not even remotely the intended target audience here)? I was hoping it would get the nuke."

"New York Minute" is not getting the nuke. Hell, it's not even getting the dynamite. And let me just say this before I go on: I am not defending this film at all. I didn't enjoy a single moment of it (well, except for fantasizing about being in a naked Olsen twins sandwich - more on that later). However, the fact of the matter is: If you stand under a urinating elephant, you're going to get pissed on. I got pissed on, but it wasn't like I didn't expect it. As far as I'm concerned, "Van Helsing" is a worse movie than "New York Minute." "Van Helsing" had a huge budget and the ability to hire anybody in the world to make the thing and still it was a piece of shit. "New York Minute" had the Olsen twins and it was a piece of shit. Now, I ask you in all honesty, which is the greater crime?

Of course, this film is draped in sexual innuendo. Let's see if we can get to the bottom of it in some remotely honest manner, starting with this basic fact: The Olsen twins are hot now. There appear to be three basic responses to this within the film critic community: ignore it, make a joke about it, or respond indignantly. The "indignant" camp consists of film critics who type out their disdain for any prurient interest in the twins with one hand, while lustfully rubbing themselves with the other. The most "indignant" critics have probably seen the film four or five times. You know why Hollywood sexualizes young girls? Because it works. What's makes it especially offensive is when everyone starts getting coy about it. Me, I'm more honest: I have fantasized about being in the middle of a naked Olsen twins sandwich, but I should note that the setting for this fantasy is the twins' 18th birthday party, so it's all perfectly appropriate. Also, in this fantasy, I've just turned 13 and I'm dressed as a clown. Hey, it's a fantasy -- I didn't say it was healthy.

Okay, now I must prove I have actually seen the film: Ashley and Mary-Kate play sisters. I believe that in Hollywood parlance, this is what they call "a safe move." Jane Ryan (Ashley) is the smart, obedient one. Roxy (Mary-Kate) is the wild, crazy one. Jane is trying to get to New York to give some speech, Roxy goes with her for something else, and together they get mixed up in a variety of mishaps. First of all, Max Lomax (Eugene Levy) is chasing Roxy for ditching school. Then the sisters happen upon Bennie Bang (Andy Richter), who drops some chip into one of their bags and then wants it back. They also have numerous run-ins with Hudson McGill (Darrell Hammond), who turns out to be one of the judges for Jane's speech.

Really, if you want to see professional pain, just check out the effort of Darrell Hammond, who looks as though he'll be spending some time in prison shortly after murdering his agent. He awards Jane a scholarship for a speech she never gives based on the fact that he reads it off some cards she's dropped. I wondered at this point whether the nitwit who wrote this thing thought that the audience would somehow be massively disappointed if Jane didn't get her scholarship, and just threw the award in there to be nice.

Honestly, that's the point of the movie where it probably descends into dynamite territory, but since it was an Olsen twins film to begin with, I had scratched out my corneas long ago.

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