Well, the “The Interview,” hit Netflix! After it flopped its way through YouTube, Sony and Kim Jong Un bringing us to the brink of annihilation , I finally got to see the epic in its entirety. Wow! What a fortune cookie. Now, I’m not a movie critic. Movies that get lampooned by more critics than the characters on a MicroSoft product code turn out to be the ones I like, but I never realized how much I knew about gauging a bad film until I watched this little masterpiece.
Ok, here’s the plot: Talkshow host gets the idea to interview Kim Jong Un. CIA tells him he’s got to shake hands with the North Korean president, whereupon some deadly poison will be transferred into his system and twenty-four hours later Kim will be as dead as fried chicken. He gets tight with the CIA, no PROBLEM, he gets into North Korea, no PROBLEM, but then he starts to like Kim. Oh yeah. Kim’s a really cool guy. I really think they should have had Jackie Chan play the leader with all those racy one-liners, but who am I, right?
Right away they screw up. One of the presidents staff EATS the poison, thinking it’s gum. And, right on cue he pukes his stomach up twenty-four hours later at a state banquet. That was. . . special. Then the CIA has to fly in by drone, a replacement, which conveniently hits a tiger in the head, and saves the TalkShow host’s producer, who just HAPPENS to be crawling around the presidential compound dressed like a fat ninja, and when the presidential guard discovers him, said producer shoves the rather large container up his bottom hole to hide it. In my humble opinion, anyone who can shove an object as large as a can of Campbell’s Soup up his butt has been there before, but, yet again, who am I? This part may be possible, that’s possible, not probable because I’ve seen some pretty weird X-Rays from the E. R.
Anyway, back to the story. The North Korean guards return the producer to his room without killing him, I might add, he retrieves said capsule (Preparation H, anyone?) and we’re all set, yet again for the big kill. Well, like I said, the host is really getting into Kim by now so the producer takes it upon himself to do the assassination. Oh, yeah, and there’s a sex scene. There’s this propaganda chick who works for Kim who comes onto the producer, and at one point she ends up on his lap jumping around like a drunken homecoming queen after the game. I seriously need to check out Asian chicks. Well, then the host takes a little stroll through town, no PROBLEM. No police, no army, doors unlocked on a grocery store, and he goes in to check out all the food. Lo and behold it’s all pictures and fakes! The only food in the whole country just happens to belong to his little fat buddy over there in the presidential compound. Now, bear in mind these cats all live on rice, so if the country is starving do the math!
By now the two have discovered that little Miss Propaganda Hot Pants is really in the resistance and she doesn’t want to KILL Kim, she wants to embarrass him. That way his form of government will be destroyed when the Korean people suddenly realize the error of their ways, do a one-eighty, and all start dancing to Gingham Style! Sounds reasonable to me! So, we progress to the interview, which is why the movie is named “The Interview.” I figured that out all by myself. There’s the TalkShow host sitting with Kim, discussing mundane subjects, and all of the sudden the host asks why the people of North Korea are starving. I must say, Kim sidesteps pretty good until the host sings some song that reminds him of his father and he starts crying like a little girl for the whole PLANET to see. Oh, and he farts, forgot that part. You have to see the movie to find out how that fits in. One thing leads to another and the president shoots the host and storms out.
While this is transpiring, Propaganda San is starting a people’s revolution in the control room where she, and the producer are fighting with the engineers, getting fingers bit off, and shooting people as the Korean engineers try to cut the feed because El Presidente is being reduced to a pool of Won Ton Soup because his daddy didn’t love him. So, here come the guards. Ok, now picture this. The presidential compound of the craziest leader in the world, soldiers charged with the ultimate protection of their leader, the cream of the rice paddy, and they come up with , um, ten guys!! I crappith Thee NOT! Of course, our little foxxy turncoat dispatches them with her trusty, belt fed machine gun without ONE of them returning fire, (good thing they weren’t Cleveland Cops) and Pyongyang Rose, the TalkShow Host, and producer (Sans Fingers) all escape the compound, finding their way to a handy tank with the keys still in it. By this time, Kim has found out that the host was still alive, so he decides to incinerate the world with his nuclear bombs, thereby proving he is bigger nut than his father. Not to worry, folks, TalkShow host fires a single shell from the tank into the president’s hovering helicopter, and the day is saved. Of course, because of the brilliant interview, and the death of Kim Yong Un, North Korea applies for statehood, goes into the laundry business, thereby revolutionizing the world, and bringing down the price of Chicken Chop Suey world wide. Womp, Womp, Womp, Womp Oppa Gingham STYLE!
Uh, I want my two hours back. Kim Jong Un shouldn’t have hacked Sony, he should have SUED Sony! That is defamation of character. I mean, Kim, the REAL Kim looks funny enough already. I know it’s a comedy, and a farce, but they really should have raised the level of credibility a tab above Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, ok? There’s one scene where Kim gets drunk and starts raving about nuking the planet, and THAT’S even silly. I never laughed so hard about Armageddon in my LIFE! Oh, and when they start to launch the missiles it’s ONE button, and the guy who’s in charge of pushing it decides to have an egg roll instead, and the world is saved.
All I can say is that if Kim Jong Un really did hack SONY, we owe him money. Saved Anonymous a lot of trouble. Now, here’s what I really think happened. Sony produces this film, see? They soak a LOT of money into it, go into promotion when suddenly someone who’s NOT smoking too much pot says, “DUDES, this like. . . SUCKS!” So they come up with this story, telling everyone that they’ve been hacked to buy time while they beat feet BACK to the cutting room, unfortunately there wasn’t THAT much room on the cutting room floor. While the world is teetering on the edge of oblivion, Sony hits the street and voila, YouTube steps up and takes the bait! Sony emerges, reasonably unscathed after palming the film off on YouTube, but when that didn’t get more hits than some thirteen year old girl playing a soda straw with her nose they cut a deal with Netflix. Let me inform you on something. When Netflix gets your film before the prints are dry there’s a message there. Jus Sayin! Now, bear in mind, all this time, the North Koreans are ordering bootleg copies by the Rickshaw full, and nobody gives a second thought. Uh, please note Youtube did not get shut down and I’m watching Netflix right now. Of course, I’m watching a film that is a little more believable. Something about alien bases on the moon.
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