Dudes! Terrible Tom Green, like, trips out in this flick. He’s this guy, Gord, and he’s so cool. He’s, like, a skateboarder, and draws his own toons. And then there’s this babe, Betty (Marisa Coughlan), who’s like an amateur rocket scientist who’s hot (even though she’s, like, in a wheelchair) and all she wants to do (when she’s not working in this hospital or perfecting her rocket-powered wheelchair) is slob his knob! It’s a trip, man … it’s like you’re 14 and your Laffy Taffy got doped with rhino tranquilizer! It’s Tom Green’s new flick, Freddy Got Fingered.
Gord’s dad, Jim (Rip Torn), never fingered his 25-year-old little brother Freddy (Eddie Kaye Thomas). Gord just made that stuff up during family therapy to get Daddy off his back. Dad’s fed up with Gord’s Peter Pan-slacker agenda: He thinks it’s high time his 28-year-old boy shelved his toys, got a job and moved out of his basement. Whatever. But when Dad goes psycho and trashes his backyard skateboarding ramp, it’s war.
Did the gross of last summer’s movies disappoint you? Too much blabbing and kissy-face mush and not enough bone-shattering slapstick and carrion in Me, Myself & Irene? Not enough blood, semen and penises in Scary Movie? Freddy Got Fingered is short on plot, words and even syllables. Don’t worry about mush: Nothing says love for Gord and Betty like a caning and a blow job. Bones don’t just shatter, Gord licks the broken ends — and his road-kill suit should fulfill your carrion requirement. Blood’s splashed by the hilarious bucket, and the climax has Gord successfully jerking off an elephant. Green doesn’t just push the envelope of gross-out comedy, he rips it apart, smears it with something nasty and wears it like a party hat.
And he makes it laugh-out-loud, R-rated funny — somehow. At least the audience of unescorted kids who looked suspiciously under 17 thought so. Stronger than his raging dad, but still making him proud in the end, he’s their terrible slacker Superman.
What's the deal with all these gross-out comedies? Read James Keith La Croix's take on the scatalogical stink, in his Reckless Eyeballing column.
E-mail James Keith La Croix at [email protected].
