Reviewing The Words Without Having Seen It

The Words looks like the biggest movie coming out today, so I’ll write about it. (They really don’t like putting any movies with a budget up against the NFL’s opening weekend, do they?) It’s a movie about a book, a concept I’ll never understand. You don’t make a car about a horse or a black wide receiver about a white wide receiver, yet here we are.

The narrative goes as follows: Bradley Cooper is a broke writer married to Zoe Saldana. A talentless boob, he worries he will lose his wife if he doesn’t get something published. Then, one day, he finds an old, lost manuscript that is, for lack of a better word, amazing–worlds beyond anything he will ever be capable of producing. So, in an act of desperation, he publishes it as his own. Suddenly, he’s the toast of the literary world. Renown and riches are his, and he has rewarded the patience of his adoring wife.

But wait! What’s this? We can’t have a movie where a cheat and a thief wins because that’s too akin to reality? Somehow, the book’s actual author (Jeremy Irons) is still alive (even though, in his movie makeup, he looks like he was old enough to use the word “colored” without raising eyebrows), and he’d like a word with the man who stole his work.

Will Jeremy Irons crush Bradley Cooper like a bug? Will BC come clean and face the music like a man? Will Zoe Saldana get naked and masturbate in front of a body-length mirror for 24 minutes of the film’s run time? I can tell you this much: I only care about the answer to one of those questions.

Here is the problem that I see with The Words: There is only one aspect of it that’s believable. Wanna know what it is? Bradley Cooper playing a talentless writer. Man, does that guy look like every retard frat boy I’ve ever seen all grown up. Actually, not even that part is believable, because guys like that don’t get into writing–they drift into high-paying corporate jobs based upon their ability to perform secret handshakes and remember that time Boomer totally got so wasted that he accidentally shit on the chest of that freshman he was titfucking, then blacked out on top of her face and suffocated her. So screw The Words and everyone in it. Except for Zoe Saldana. She cannot put on her Starfleet uniform and sit on my face fast enough. Don’t judge me. It isn’t a crime for a white man to enjoy a little cinnamon on his porridge.

Tagged as: Movie Review.