Fur ball... no longer stuck in the back of my throat
Gentle reader, life is too short to spend a precious moment time reviewing an unbearably bad film. However, even the depraved individuals brought to my humble bloguette by googling the words 'old cu(e)nt' deserve to be warned about the film Fur.
One fervently hopes that a deranged animal rights protester attended the premiere to throw paint at the cast: it would be more interesting to watch that paint dry than suffer as I have!
A lifeless performances from Ms N Kidman, who seems to have something else on her mind throughout the film... wondering 'what was I thinking' perhaps, or trying to decide upon a new agent? She hasn't delivered such an unconvincing performance since... well, one can hardly blame the girl that no one bought that arranged Hollywood marriage, can we?
Let's not even mention Mr Robert Downey Jr. looking like the Beast from that pitiful US TV show 'Beauty and the Beast' that one is ashamed to admit one's mother watched back in the 1980s... appearing in the cast might be considered career suicide, if he had a career to risk!
During the filming, the director appears to have been away from the set at a repeat screening of 'Mulholland Drive' trying to figure out how the fabulous Mr D Lynch achieved the effects he clearly desired. A few clues, Mr Shameburger: attention to such superficial details such as acting, lighting, and music... and no, having someone drag a coin up and down a piano keyboard every time the leading character walks upstairs does not set a mood!
Prone to walking out in the middle of an unsatisfactory performance, all that kept me rigid in my seat was conviction that this was the worst film one has ever paid good money to see, and one determined to get one's money's worth, complaining about every last damn minute that I wasted watching it.
One fervently hopes that a deranged animal rights protester attended the premiere to throw paint at the cast: it would be more interesting to watch that paint dry than suffer as I have!
A lifeless performances from Ms N Kidman, who seems to have something else on her mind throughout the film... wondering 'what was I thinking' perhaps, or trying to decide upon a new agent? She hasn't delivered such an unconvincing performance since... well, one can hardly blame the girl that no one bought that arranged Hollywood marriage, can we?
Let's not even mention Mr Robert Downey Jr. looking like the Beast from that pitiful US TV show 'Beauty and the Beast' that one is ashamed to admit one's mother watched back in the 1980s... appearing in the cast might be considered career suicide, if he had a career to risk!
During the filming, the director appears to have been away from the set at a repeat screening of 'Mulholland Drive' trying to figure out how the fabulous Mr D Lynch achieved the effects he clearly desired. A few clues, Mr Shameburger: attention to such superficial details such as acting, lighting, and music... and no, having someone drag a coin up and down a piano keyboard every time the leading character walks upstairs does not set a mood!
Prone to walking out in the middle of an unsatisfactory performance, all that kept me rigid in my seat was conviction that this was the worst film one has ever paid good money to see, and one determined to get one's money's worth, complaining about every last damn minute that I wasted watching it.
Suggested caption: Quick, quick, let's disguise and leave before the critics and the audience start baying for our blood... We're only the leading actors, no one will notice our absence
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