Scrambler

​An Australian Creative Director and Strategist fumbles through life in America. Live from New York.

An Australian Creative Director and Strategist fumbles through life New York City.

Entertaining Myself (Part Three).

Time to return to a DonkeyFire favourite - where I post reviews of films I’ve watched to keep myself entertained. Unfortunately, after two cracking documentaries, my run of excellent films has crashed mightily to a halt, like a train full of orphans colliding with a train full of kittens and petrol.

After watching the Chernobyl-abortion that was ‘No Strings Attached’, I can report on two things immediately: one, Natalie Portman is the best worst actress ever (or more specifically, the worst Best Actress ever), and two, I don’t think any actual adults took part in the writing of this film - instead, it was written by overly horny, dimwitted high school fucktards, who have never met a black person, a gay person, or more than one woman in their lives.

Synopsis (urgh, this film licks the bag): Ashton Kutcher (why did I watch this film?) and Natalie Portman are massively drawn to each other, but *record scratch!*, she hates commitment. So they just bang casually, and attempt to avoid falling for each other. I CAN’T STRESS HOW MUCH I DISLIKE THIS FILM.

Specific low lights in bullet point form:

  • Kutcher makes Portman a mixtape of period-inspired songs, and later in the film she cries when she hears ‘Bleeding Love’, which was on the tape.
  • All the characters are in the mid to late 20s, with difficult/mediocre jobs, yet they all live in wicked, pimping houses
  • All the peripheral characters are stereotypes: the gay guy is way too gay to function (thank you Mean Girls, a film that proves that ‘chick flicks’ can be completely awesome), Ludacris sets African American culture back 30 years by playing the most misogynistic, retarded black character on film, and Portman’s character’s friends prove that being a doctor doesn’t mean you can’t be dumb as fuck, and a huge waste of space
  • Finally, two of the characters become lesbians 2/3rds of the way through the film, and then Natalie Portman’s character attacks them in a drunken rage. NONE OF THIS IS EXPLAINED IN ANY WAY.

I recommend no one ever see this film, ever. All the copies of this film should be buried under Fukashima, or used to torture people.

No fingers in the eye, out of a possible 10.    

This film actively made me less attracted to Natalie Portman, which is even sadder than the fact that I actually watched this whole film.