Gerry Movie Review:


Gerry, Where’s My Car, Dude?

This movie is almost review proof.

It’s “Dumb and Dumber” without the comedy. It’s “My Dinner With Andre” without the appetizing first course or the intelligent discourse. It’s “Lost Highway” without the Lynch mystique (or Robert Blake). It’s “The Desert Fox” without Rommel, tanks, armies, or a war. It’s “Picnic at Hanging Rock” without a picnic or young girls. It’s “Looking for Signs of Intelligent Life” without CIA operative Jason Bourne. It’s “Good Will Hunting” without finding “Patch Adams.” It’s “To Die For” what? It’s “Mala Noche” after “Mala Noche.” It’s “My Own Private Mojave.” Its “Even Boy Gerrys Get the Blues.” It’s “One Way to Kill Yourself.” It’s “Not Finding Forrester, or Anyone Else.” It’s “The Blair Witch Project” without a witch, cameras, or that nagging bitch Heather. It’s “Phallus in Wonderland” as Gus goes down the rabbit hole watching two young, tight, male butts walk endlessly in front of his camera. It’s “Deserterata” without the poetry or the depth. It’s “Rabbit Proof Fence” without rabbits, a fence, or intelligent kids who know where they are going and how to survive getting there. It’s “Zabriskie Point” without a point. It’s “Sheltering Sky” without shelter or “Being John Malkovich.” It’s “Baghdad Café” without a café or the fat lady singing. It’s “Lawrence of Arabia” without Lawrence, a script, a cast, or music; otherwise, it’s epic too.

Evidently, the boys (Casey and Matt) were challenged to write a screenplay with parts for themselves (but not Ben ‘cause he’s got J-Lo) in less than 60 minutes. They met the challenge and Gerry was hatched. A Complete Idiots Guide to Day Hiking. Picture the Bush Brothers, George and Jeb, going to Iraq to find Sadaam.

The good news: it’s bold, it’s original, and it’s great looking on the big screen. The bad news: it had nothing to say. It’s strictly ethereal. It’s part of a trend. First came the reality daytime shows. Now, networks are fighting to regain viewers with a spate of inane reality shows in primetime and laughing all the way to the bank. This concept is starting to infect the indie movie industry. Just recently, we suffered through “Morvern Caller.” Then “All the Real Girls.” Now, this slice of surreality. What will get the green light next? “Jerry Springer, the Movie?“ Wait, they already did that. I, for one, hope this trend expires soon. As evidenced by “Gerry,” reality bites!

If you still want to partake in this wheel of misfortune, I suggest doing what the “old” Matt did; swipe some good “Psycho”tropics from a “Drugstore, Cowboy”, and you won’t get the blues. Sit back, relax, and watch your life go by in slo-mo. Sweet!

T R Black

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