I Think I've Found The Worst Film Of 2007 Already
This is just going to be a UK Boondock Saints, isn't it? By which I mean, a mean-spirited, shallow, bigoted, smug, vicarious, fraudulent, barely two-dimensional attempt to get the public to think vigilantes are top folks.
Directed by Nick Love, who can be heard on a The Business commentary track near you whining like a little baby about how evil liberals don’t like his films. Starring Sean Bean and Bob Hoskins, who apparently no longer have anything better to do with their time. Also starring Danny “If It’s About Football And It’s Shit, I’m In It!” Dyer. Already uncritically adored by hundreds of pseudo-working-class poser cunts who end their sentences with “my son”.
Look, I don't enjoy being negative (possible lie), but when you look at this film's website, it's hard to believe it's going to have anything substantial to say about inner city crime. A "Nonce Hunter" video game? Flash-animated bullet holes and lynched bodies? The whole "ha ha, we're fackin' hardcore, my son, don't like it, fack off" attitude to the whole thing? Yeah, I’d love to fuck off if I don’t like it, but if I was living in a fascist state, I’d find it quite hard to ignore. Which is why I like to grab these things early.
The first maddening thing about it is that it’s based on a complete logical fallacy - that someone can kill a man in a responsible and moral way. The reason why vigilante justice never works is because the only people who can kill and maintain a degree of decorum are psychopaths - that’s what the term means. So excuse me if I don’t trust the innate decency and judgement of the dangerously unstable.
Secondly, that a turd like this poisons the drinking water for everyone; it no longer becomes possible to say you favour an increased police presence on the streets because everyone thinks you’re a National Front-tattooed psycho, and it’s no longer possible to decry meretricious shit like this because everyone thinks you’re an ivory-tower liberal who doesn’t know what it’s like out on the streets (my son). So thank you, Nick Love, thank you so fucking much. I thought Ann Coulter’s new book would be impossible to beat as the year’s most poisonous cultural artefact, but we have a new winner.
Oh look, it's even using the same tactic as the BNP - pretend you're "speaking for the working classes", so if anyone disagrees with your threadbare arguments, you can pretend they're a snob. Well, this member of the working classes says; shove your fucking gallery-playing big-boys-with-guns fantasy shite up your talentless arse, Nick Love, and fuck off and fellate Nick Griffin some more.
Directed by Nick Love, who can be heard on a The Business commentary track near you whining like a little baby about how evil liberals don’t like his films. Starring Sean Bean and Bob Hoskins, who apparently no longer have anything better to do with their time. Also starring Danny “If It’s About Football And It’s Shit, I’m In It!” Dyer. Already uncritically adored by hundreds of pseudo-working-class poser cunts who end their sentences with “my son”.
Look, I don't enjoy being negative (possible lie), but when you look at this film's website, it's hard to believe it's going to have anything substantial to say about inner city crime. A "Nonce Hunter" video game? Flash-animated bullet holes and lynched bodies? The whole "ha ha, we're fackin' hardcore, my son, don't like it, fack off" attitude to the whole thing? Yeah, I’d love to fuck off if I don’t like it, but if I was living in a fascist state, I’d find it quite hard to ignore. Which is why I like to grab these things early.
The first maddening thing about it is that it’s based on a complete logical fallacy - that someone can kill a man in a responsible and moral way. The reason why vigilante justice never works is because the only people who can kill and maintain a degree of decorum are psychopaths - that’s what the term means. So excuse me if I don’t trust the innate decency and judgement of the dangerously unstable.
Secondly, that a turd like this poisons the drinking water for everyone; it no longer becomes possible to say you favour an increased police presence on the streets because everyone thinks you’re a National Front-tattooed psycho, and it’s no longer possible to decry meretricious shit like this because everyone thinks you’re an ivory-tower liberal who doesn’t know what it’s like out on the streets (my son). So thank you, Nick Love, thank you so fucking much. I thought Ann Coulter’s new book would be impossible to beat as the year’s most poisonous cultural artefact, but we have a new winner.
Oh look, it's even using the same tactic as the BNP - pretend you're "speaking for the working classes", so if anyone disagrees with your threadbare arguments, you can pretend they're a snob. Well, this member of the working classes says; shove your fucking gallery-playing big-boys-with-guns fantasy shite up your talentless arse, Nick Love, and fuck off and fellate Nick Griffin some more.