Friday, April 19, 2019

DOUBLE REVIEW: Unplanned / Us (2019)

Jimbo returns to the drive-in with two flicks proving once and for all that neither godless, honky-hatin’ liberals or Planned Parenthood-despisin’, evangelical conservatives know how to do “social commentary” worth a damn


By: JimboX

Now lemme get this outta the way early — when it comes to abortion, I don’t really got no strong feelings one way or the other. So yeah, I guess that makes me the only person on the planet who feels indecisive on what’s supposedly the most polemic issue in American society.

If abortion is outlawed outright, I wouldn’t care, and if it was made mandatory, I think I would be equally unconcerned. But in most respects, I guess you could say I’m pro-death on most subjects; I’m pro-death penalty, pro-war, pro-legalization, pro-gun, pro-violence, pro-just about anything that means there’s less traffic on my way to work and a couple more parking spaces opened up at the local Costco. But I am willing to concede a little bit of ground to the anti-abortionists out there: I do, genuinely and honestly, consider abortion to be murder. I mean, shit, what else would you call the conscious, willful destruction of living tissue using state of the art technology designed solely to maim, mutilate and dismember? Try as they may, there’s no amount of mental gymnastics the Planned Parenthood crowd can employ to circumvent the fact that their organization makes heaps of moolah from scrambling fetuses — which, left alone, would’ve grown into full-fledged, independent human beings — into a fine paste of pureed internal organs. To be a proponent of the Planned Parenthood causa sui means literally dehumanizing people so you feel better about liquifying their guts into oblivion; at heart, pro-abortionists, the really adamant, political ones, are no different than the rabid alt-righters that consider Jews, blacks and humans subhuman scum; the only difference, of course, being the fact that Planned Parenthood kills WAY more African-American children than the Klan ever could.

But here’s the thing; I genuinely don’t give a fuck about fetuses being murdered. As a matter of fact, I’m kinda’ like Thanos in the fact that I unironically believe the world would be a lot better off of half of everybody on the planet just suddenly died at the same time. Shit, there’s mathematical algorithms that prove quality of life is directly proportional to resource availability, and since other mathematical algorithms show resource availability is directly associated with population levels, you can just distributive property that motherfucker to scientifically prove that life for everybody gets worse the more people who are born. So really, the more people who DON’T get born, the better, and the more old people who die instead of lingering around to syphon off funding from Uncle Sam, the better, too. If anything, we ought to expand the definition of what abortion is so we can legally execute senior citizens who don’t contribute to society. And fat people, too, especially the short ones.

Of course, the conservative Christians folks who are totally aghast over abortion are usually pretty hypocritical about this kinda’ stuff. Sure, they want the babies to be born — even though their parents generally lack the economic or cognitive responsibility to take care of an easily killable, proto-human being on their own — but they’re usually pretty hesitant to, you know, adopt retard babies themselves, or the brown ones with AIDS. Instead, they’re more than cool with the child getting neglected and abused and maltreated by its parents, up until the point it’s removed by social services and then placed in another setting of some sort where it’s going to be neglected and abused and maltreated by somebody else. There’s a shit ton of corruption and criminal wrongdoing going on in the nation’s foster care systems and to an even larger extent within the nation’s social services infrastructure — but when was the last time you saw any of this Jesus-lovers dressing up like the Grim Reaper and splashing blood on people who work at family and children’s services?

But the pro-abortion people are just as bad, if not worse. These assholes will NEVER acknowledge that the whole reason Planned Parenthood exists is because a super-racist eugenicist wanted there to be less black people in America. And the statistics show that, even now, black fetuses remain a disproportionately large slice of the abortionee pie, to the point black women are abortin’ their young uns at a rate 2.7 times higher than their less melanated cohorts.

Indeed, data from Kaiser shows that black abortions account for 40 percent of ALL abortions in the United States, which is a rather remarkable piece of numerical trivia considering black women make up just 6 percent or so of the total national populace.

So if you’re for abortion, you invariably find yourself in a position where you’re publicly ADVOCATING for the ethnic cleansing of black people in America. To this day, I’m shocked why the anti-abortion crowd hasn’t jumped on this one and turned abortion into a racially-loaded hand grenade — shit, who even needs the KKK when NARAL is already mass murdering millions of black children each and every year, and with the full, unwavering support of the leftist hivemind, no less?

Which brings us to the absolute end of modern day liberalism, folks. You may have heard about Ohio’s efforts to pass a bill that would make it illegal to do abortions after a fetus’ heartbeat can be detected. Well, what you may not have heard about is the work of State Rep. Janine R. Boyd, a suspiciously light-skinned Democrat who proposed counter-legislature that, if passed, would make African-American infants exempt from the legislative requirement.

And just when you think things can’t get any more ClownWorld(™) on us, naturally, she blamed slavery for all of this mess.

“I consider the slave trade and how black slaves were once treated like cattle and put out to stud in order to create generations of more slaves,” Boyd remarked. “ I consider how many masters forced their slaves to have abortions, and I consider how many pregnant slaves self-induced abortions so that they would not contribute children they had to this slave system. … And so I ask you, with all of your values, to consider that and vote yes to this amendment.”

Instead of commenting on that one myself, I’m just going to let Rachel Stovall — who does indeed appear to be a sassy black woman — do the rejoinder for me in this op-ed published by The Colorado Springs Gazette:

“African American leaders or organizations supporting eugenics are only interested lining their pockets,” she writes. “Some within the black political elite see abortion as a path to economic empowerment. They believe that they are elevating the race by killing off the most vulnerable in it. They are convinced that black women are incapable of raising the children that they carry. This is their internalized racism – belief in white supremacy — manifesting as hatred of blackness.”

Well, I for one never expected the frontwoman from Phat Daddy and the Phat Horn Doctors to knock it outta’ the proverbial park when it comes to the intrinsic hypocrisy displayed by the liberals on the subject of abortion, but as the commercials say, life comes at you fast sometimes.

You can sugarcoat it with whatever highfalutin, bullshit terms you want, but deep down, we ALL know that abortion isn’t about “muh women’s rights,” it’s about the State’s right to employ laissez-faire eugenics in an open market, and even subsidize it with taxpayers’ money if it comes down to it.

So the next time you encounter some raging Democrat talking about how great and dandy abortions are, try using this little trick on ‘em — after they’re done  spouting all their nonsense about feminism and right to choose, simply ask them “so, why exactly do you want so many less black people being born?”

Because ultimately, that’s what abortion in the United States is all about — thus, making it the one subject where legitimate neo-Nazis and ultra-leftist communist larpers come full circle and actually agree for once on federal policymaking.

Who would've ever thought that a movie made by the same company that gave us God's Not Dead would be so preachy?

Anyhoo, speaking of gross ineffective things, we’re starting off this week’s double-header with Unplanned, the brand new anti-abortion movie PureFlix, the Christxploitation masterminds behind God’s Not Dead and The Case For Christ and a whole buncha’ other movies only your evangelical friends from high school on Facebook have seen, let alone heard of.

So this un’s about this broad named Abby, who’s a Planned Parenthood director in Texas, who gets called into the back to help lube up a patient and she gets royally traumatized watching a fetus get Dirt Deviled into oblivion. Then we flash back to Abby getting recruited by some cowgirl in a pink hat at Texas A&M, and then we revisit her internship as a volunteer escort wearing a yellow smock on Abortions-Only Saturday while demonstrators who look like Guy Fieri scream at clients to keep their legs closed.

After that there’s another flashback to Abby getting knocked-up by this 40-year-old country bumpkin and how she had to get a credit card to pay for an abortion in Houston — concluding with a scene where she munches on crackers in the post-op room, slouched over in her seat looking like an anemic crack whore in a room chock full of other post-abortion zombies.

Then she gets knocked up AGAIN, and this time they give her an RU486 pill for $400 and she takes it and starts puking everywhere, then she bleeds out a pulpy fetus on the toilet and has to pick chunks of it out of the shower and flush it down the commode, then she spends the next 12 hours crying and rolling around in baby guts.

So Planned Parenthood convinces her to become a recruiter, but her mom is all upset about and gives here a lecture about how she was a baby from the moment of conception, then Abby gets married again and becomes a PP counselor, where she keeps telling teenagers that their fetuses are just lumps of tissue that can’t feel pain and encouraging them by saying abortion isn’t something you want, like a brand new car or ice cream. Then she gets put on petri dish patrol in the infant spare parts room and gets pregnant again, and her bitchy bug-eyed boos tells her she wants her to replace her when she goes to Houston, and kinda’ subtly tries to convince her to have another abortion. Then this one high schooler comes in and her parents are pressuring her to abort her fetus (by the way, all of the abortion scenes in the movie are filmed in ultra white light, like some sort of futuristic, alien abduction sequence) and when she does, she has a whole bunch of complications and the bitchy director won’t let nobody call 911 because she’s afraid it’ll give PP bad publicity.

Then Abby’s coworkers throw her a baby shower after a hard day of terminating 38 fetuses in a row and then some protesters get her on camera and accuse her of dehumanizing people and a black girl gets an abortion while her mom hangs outside the gate crying and then Abby looks at her own ultrasounds in a PP folder and Hurricane Ike strikes and Abby’s daughter asks her why she has blood all over her shoes and then the bitchy PP boss tells her they need to increase their chemical and late-term abortions in order to pay for a new building.

Then George Tiller gets killed while she’s eating Mexican and a whole bunch of protesters want to pray over a blue barrel of fetus remnants and Abby gets reprimanded by her bitchy boss in Houston and … oh shit, we STILL have 43 minutes of movie left.

Long story short? Abby leaves Planned Parenthood and kvetches about doing all those abortions and says prayer reduces abortions by 75 percent and the bitchy boss says she’s going to sue Abby and she can’t fight it in court because PP is bankrolled by George Soros and Warren Buffet, so she hires some crappy lawyer off a billboard and the the whole case is decided in favor of Abby in about 58 minutes.

Then we learn the PP building she worked at got closed down in 2013, and everybody in town cheers when its signage gets yanked down. And that, my friends, is Unplanned in a nutshell.

Anyway, let’s hit the high points of the movie, why don’t we? We’ve got five abortions, including one chemically-induced one. No bare breasts or buttocks. Gratuitous high schooler sponging. Gratuitous Christian contemporary soundtrack. Gratuitous fetus mopping. Ultrasound fu. Protester fu. Water sprinkler fu. RU-486 fu. And, of course, the thing more or less responsible for this movie existing in the first place … you better believe we’ve got some SERIOUS evangelicalism fu going on in this motherfucker.

Starring Ashley Bratcher as Abby Johnson, the protagonist who says "Here's for all of my unborn children, sacrificed on the altar of inconvenience," at the very end of the movie; Robia Scott as Cheryl, the bitchy moon-faced Planned Parenthood director who says “Nonprofit is a tax status, not a business model”; Brooks Ryan as the hubbie Doug, who really doesn’t add much of anything to the movie; and Tina Toner as Renee, the one PP nurse with a pixie cut who’s probably a lesbian in real life.

Written and directed by the tag team of Chuck Konzelman and Cary Solomon, who probably deserve a little credit for coming up with dialogue like “"Abortion is our fries and soda” and somehow getting their actors to still say it with a straight face.

Yeah, needless to say, this one’s just plain preachin’ to the choir. Some of the early abortion scenes are pretty gristly, and at times the movie does indeed take on something that feels like actual tension and ambiance, but on the whole? It’s just one big evangelical hugbox that totally deteriorates into a James Dobson lecture in the last 30 minutes. The best I can give this one is a very sub-par ONE AND A HALF STARS OUT OF FOUR; pretty much the only reason anybody should bother spending money on this one is if they think it’ll get them a hand shandy from the loosest girl at bible study.

Unfortunately, the director doesn't have the brass to come out and say the movie was inspired by a black supremacist child molestation cult that thought everybody had seven clones and aborted fetuses are living underground in the nation's sewer system.

For our second flick of the week, however, we’re going just the opposite direction on the sociopolitical spectrum, as we take a look at Jordan Peele’s much-celebrated “elevated-horror” offering Us which, really, is just further proof that critics today will praise ANYTHING as long as it’s made by a black person and its entire motif is just some mild reworking of “fuck da’ evil white man.”

Sure, sure, the race baiting going on in Us isn’t as obvious as it was in Get Out Peele’s last film, whose entire narrative framework LITERALLY revolves around the premise that black people are superior physical specimens to their inferior mayonnaise-colored counterparts — but at least that movie HAD a few glimmers of decency in it. Us is just about the WORST example of a sophomore slump I’ve seen since Hootie and the Blowfish’s second album, and I am CONVINCED that the Hollywood-Industrial-Rotten-Tomatoes-Reddit hivemind has been mind controlled into believing this rubbish is anything CLOSE to approaching great filmmaking.

So the movie starts off with some rolling text reminding us that there’s thousands of miles of sewer utility pipeline in the U.S., and then they show us this old ass Hands Across America commercial, but really, the only thing most of you will notice is the VHS copy of C.H.U.D. right next to the TV. Not that you need me to tell you this, but subtlety is not this Peele guy’s strong suit.

So then we see this one black girl roaming around a boardwalk while guys in Black Flag T-shirts try to get her to waste her mama’s money on skeeball and this one hobo runs around with a Jeremiah 11:11 sign and she ends up sneaking into a “Vision Quest” spookhouse and she sees SOMETHING that weirds her the fuck out while her daddy is too busy playing Whack-A-Mole.

After the opening credits — which is just rows and rows of rabbits, with a couple of black bunnies sprinkled into the mix here and there — we join Lupita’s character in progress about 25 years later, when she’s now got a fat ass husband and two kids of her own and they all drive around listening to old Luniz songs … possibly, because Skee-Lo wasn’t too keen on giving up his music licensing rights.

So the family goes to a beach house and the kids talk about fluoride in the tap water and then, uh oh, all of these doppelgangers invade their home and put everybody in sleeper holds like Brutus the Beefcake Barber used to and give them a lecture about “tethering” and eating rabbits or some other bullshit. But mainly, the carbon copies just sort of stare at them with bulging eyebrows and licking their lips, threatening to chew their tracheas out at any minute.

Then a totally different family of mutant sewer zombie lookalikes show up at the rich white family’s house next door and the dad makes a joke about O.J. Simpson and then the dopplegangers massacre the whole lot of ‘em and the wife tries to get her Alexa to call the cops, but instead it plays “Fuck tha Police” by N.W.A., and then the two black kids show up and beat their teenage daughters to death with golf clubs. Because, again, subtlety.

Then the black family watches some news footage of protesters wearing red making a human chain on a freeway in front of some dead black guy — boy, I wonder what the director could be alluding to there? — then the family hatches a plan to flee to Mexico and the husband’s idea to string up some Home Alone-like booby traps is quickly vetoed.

After the family sets a retarded zombie child on fire, Lupita returns to the carnival spook house of her youth and finds this underground lab with a classroom in it, where her zombie doppelganger gives her some exposition on how the government created clones of everybody and made them live in the sewers for no discernible reason whatsoever. So, uh, is Peele trying to insinuate that cracked out, mentally ill homeless people aren’t victims of their own excesses and stupidity, but government experiments gone awry? Trust, me this movie makes NO goddamn sense, and the more you try to “figure it out,” the worse your migraine is gonna’ get.

And after one of the WORST concluding karate fights to the death I’ve seen on the big screen in quite some time, OF COURSE Peele would hit us with this long, drawn out, pseudo-intellectual plot twist about the doppelganger being the REAL Lupita the whole time.

The next Shining, you’ve heard? Forget it — this movie ain’t even good enough to be the next Street Trash, the more I think about it.

OK, the highlights — or lack thereof? We’ve got 18 dead bodies. No bare breasts or buttocks. About 200 sewer zombies. One flaming child with Asperger’s. Gratuitous face carving. Gratuitous zombie lip glossing. Throat slitting. Speedboat fu. Fire poker fu. Scissors fu. Alexa fu. Golf club fu. Geode fu. And the thing more or less responsible for this movie existing in the first place … some major Hands Across America fu going on in this one.

Starring Lupita Nyong’o as Adelaide, who says “This is the time to run, not sprinkle Micro Machines on the floor”; Winston Duke as Gabe, the out of shape dad who says “You don’t need the Internet, you’ve got the outernet”; Elisabeth Moss as the random white friend who is inexplicably married to one of the guys from Tim and Eric; Shahadi Wright Joseph as Zora, the daughter who nine-irons two white girls to death; and Evan Alex as the probable autist son Jason, who has the best line in the movie — “Maybe you can kiss my anus, Zora.”

Written and directed by Jordan Peele, who is quickly turning into the next M. Night Shyamalan — and no, I don’t mean that as a compliment.

I absolutely cannot fathom how this movie is getting rave reviews. In fact, this is one of the most inexplicably celebrated Hollywood productions in recent memory, a film that is so ripe with plot holes and nonsensical storytelling that I’m pretty sure even the director himself had no goddamn clue what he was trying to get at by the time the movie was over. Anybody comparing this to the work of Kubrick, I assure you, is a pure D moron; the absolute best I can give this absurdly overrated dreck is a paltry ONE AND HALF STARS OUT OF FOUR, and even then, I might be being too generous.

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