As many of you may know, the summer movie of the year is apparently called Barbenheimer. Some readers may have been curious about the film but were unable to visit their local Central Theater. There may be others who have yet to be enticed to see and/or are waiting for the movie to appear on streaming. To both types of cinephiles I say, do not fret. As a courtesy, I went and saw the one film for you.
Before we dive into my film review of Barbenheimer, I would like to preface with two opening facts.
Firstly, this film is long. Unbelievably long if I do say so myself. It felt like I was in the movie theater for two whole weeks. Two whole weeks sitting in the Ely Central Theater just to watch this so-called Barbenheimer flick. Can you imagine trying to sit in those Central Theater seats for that long? Not on your life. But I braved it for you, dear reader.
Secondly, there is a chance that the reason Barbenheimer felt so long is that before it started, I may have taken half a bottle of Ambien, a handful or two of MDMA, and topped it off with an immeasurable amount of Adderall. Hey, it’s not my fault that you can’t bring your own snacks into the theater. I pre-gamed to be in the movie mood accordingly. Anyway, let’s get to it.
This movie sucked. It was all over the place. One moment we’re in so-called Barbieland with Margot Robbie’s legs (no complaints there). Then next, it’s World War II New Mexico waiting for a bomb to destroy the world! Where did that come from? I’m trying not to let my disdain for New Mexico interfere with this movie review, but I don’t know if I can help it. New Mexico sucks roadrunner butt and so does this movie.
Also, avoid this film if you have a problem with random flashes of pink, to black and white, and then back to pink. I had no idea what was going on. It was almost like I was watching two different movies.
But I think my biggest gripe is the fact that our two main characters never meet each other. Barbie, who kinda seems like she would benefit from some MDMA herself, and this Stephen Hawking-type fella, if Stephen Hawking had the power of two legs and drooled less, never cross paths. Listen, I’m not a professional filmmaker. But if you’re going to make a movie with these polar opposite characters, wouldn’t it be interesting for them to interact at least once? Scorsese did something like that in one of his boring films. Just copy him.
Honestly, I think I’m just upset they don’t make movies like they used to. Like Indiana Jones. Now those were good classic movies. They didn’t require pre-gaming senselessly with numerous stimulants. Unfortunately, they don’t even make Indiana Jones movies like they used to. Nowadays… let’s just say that I keep Economy Drug in business and their name couldn’t be more fitting. What do I need to get by in this economy? Drugs.
So, as you can imagine, I’m giving Barbenheimer zero stars. I couldn’t follow the plot. I don’t know what the director was thinking. Why didn’t they just make two separate movies? One could have been called Barbie. The other could have been called Oppenheimer. Such an easy fix. They should have called me.
I’ll also be looking to get my money back from the Ely Central Theater.
Emphasis on “theater”, not “theatre”. “Theatre” refers to the art form in which thespians and the like partake. A “theater” is the location in which “theatre” is performed. Therefore, it’s Ely Central Theater, not Ely Central “Theatre”. No matter how much Don wants to spell it that way, he will always be wrong. I will die on this hill.
P.S. – Give me back my confiscated Ambien. I’m sure I wasn’t making as much of a scene as you claim.
P.P.S. – No amount of mess I could’ve made on your theater floor can compare to the one made in my pants. Stop complaining, some of us have real problems.
P.P.P.S. – Dear reader, please do not attempt to attend the cinema under any such substances as described in this article. Not because it isn’t fun…because it is, but because trying to make it through that extremely creepy slide that’s placed before every movie in which dead-eyed corpses of characters ask the audience for “No Talking” is not for the faint of heart. Especially while high. Don, on behalf of all of us, please: Take. That. Slide. Out.