Urban Legend: Final Cut
Watching this film congratulate itself on being clever is sort of like watching a conceited, one-legged genius give a tap dancing lesson.
There is a rule of dental hygiene that I have found to be most useful and rewarding: "Bring floss wherever you go." About 30 minutes into this film, it came in handy. I scurried outside, and tied one end of the floss to the back bumper of an idling city bus. Then, I unraveled the entire package as I made my way back to my seat, and tied the other end securely to my scrotum. Two minutes later, at 7:39 PM precisely, I experienced the kind of joy I have rarely known in my life, so much was that pain an improvement over the pain of watching this film.
Someone should venture to Foucault's grave and dig up his skeleton because they could drill a couple oil wells with the torque as the ripple of this film's repulsive postmodernism spins him round. When his skull gives out, dig up Hitchcock, whose name is blasphemed repeatedly as the film school in the movie gives out the prestigious Hitchcock award for the best student film. Whether this is an homage, a tribute, or a suggestion that this film is a legacy of Hitchcock's, director John Ottman would be better off calling the award "The Nasty Dog Laid a Huge, Stinky Poo on My Lawn" award because this film has a lot more to do with that than anything Hitchcock ever did.
Certainly this is a horror film, but the horror occurs in the audience as they try to endure this thing. "Urban Legends: Final Cut" is yet another movie that tries to be clever by doing that film within a film thing. Amy (Jennifer Morrison) is a film student doing a film about urban legends and, lo and behold, there's a real killer stalking the campus. There's not one clever moment in the entire film -- not one moment when any reasonably intelligent person shouldn't know exactly what's going on. Watching this film congratulate itself on being clever is sort of like watching a conceited, one-legged genius give a tap dancing lesson. You just want to cut off the other leg.
The film opens with a fake scene of a plane traveling through a horrible storm and everybody playing in the aisles. That happens. Then there's the killer who leaves his victim with a cell phone. Then there's the painfully obvious "Blair Witch" camera-shaking technique. I mean, who takes the worst part of another movie and emulates it? And don't the teachers at the school notice that pretty much everyone there has been murdered in a two-day period? Ultimately, the film's most true-to-life scene happens with Amy, whose unwritten script magically materializes between scenes as if she wrote it during a brief trip to the crapper. That one had to be taken from actual experience.
To spread the word about this Urban Legend: Final Cut review on Twitter.To get instant updates of Mr. Cranky reviews, subscribe to our RSS feed.