Six Flags Roller Coaster Death-Papa’s Basement Radio Show
Last week, to the shock of amusement park fans everywhere, a woman plummeted to her death off of a roller coaster at Six Flags, Texas. My reaction to the news? […]
The logic behind comic book movies is rather insidious. People are drawn to the familiar, especially things that excited them as a kid. It’s why Joe Camel was so effective at sucking in smokers once they turned 18 and the reason your childhood affinity for playing in a ball pit at McDonald’s might doom you to an adulthood as a burger-inhaling lardmound. It’s also why, despite the fact that the vast majority of us don’t actively read comics or play with toys, whenever a new X-Men or Transformers flick is released, we perk up like a canine hearing a dog whistle and are in the theater before the logical side of our brain has a chance to think, “You know this movie is going to suck, you dunce. Avoid it.”
It is through the prism of that glowing preamble one must view The Wolverine, the 98th comic book movie to be released this summer. Is the film necessary? No. Does it say anything new? No. Is there a singular reason for it to exist outside of moving new action figures, fast food tie-ins and make new, young Wolverine fans who will in turn consume Wolverine-related media for the rest of their days? Nope.
As a movie, there is exactly one reason to watch Wolverine: Hugh Jackman. Why? Because that dude is gayer* than a forest of penis trees yet he’s somehow convincing as the manliest superhero of them all. His talents make Brando appear to have the nuance of a Bollywood matinee idol by comparison. I’m sorry, but no man able to do this can also maintain an erection while inside a vagina. They are mutually exclusive abilities. But I do doff my cap to the thoroughness of Hugh’s charade.
So, if you want to pump a few more bucks into the marketing machine that would have ensnared your imagination from the time you were a zygote if it had the technology, by all means, watch The Wolverine. I’m sure it’s a perfectly innocuous means of spending your time, like a Sunday afternoon nap or 90 minutes of halfhearted masturbation. The difference is, those options don’t put you out the $15 bucks for a movie ticket. Choose wisely.
*I have no proof Hugh Jackman is gay and the statement was made for comedic effect. Oh, how I flatter myself by acting like this post will get enough reads to justify covering my ass legally. I could title the article “Hugh Jackman Sucks Cock-Photos Inside” and I’d be fine.
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