Gigli (2003)

If there was a movie that could single handidly destroy a large amount of classic genres, it would be this horrible piece of history that im sure a lot of people pay a blind eye to. This (as well as a partial request from someone) is the only reason I have watched this movie again (seriously no one should ever have to experience anything from this movie once, but twice...eh) No one should ever hear it's haunting name, let along watch the damn thing. This is probably the worst modern movie I have ever seen. Let me break it down into a vast cake baking contest I thought about last night. A cool Summer day on the country side....

Our head chef (baker, im not sure what he would be called) Martin Brest, who was actually an acclaimed direct..baker before today (Beverly Hill's Cop, Scent of a Woman, Meet Joe Black), but like most people in his area of work he wanted to be innovative (or he was apparently tired of being good at what he was being paid to do). He decided to do something a little different for todays competition, he decided to hire a brand new crew of helpers for this ( a couple of washed up has-beens and something called a "Bennifer" amongst others). Brest was going to go all the way with this, he has got some big named actors and a couple that is the eye of all media attention in those days. The only problem is when he wasn't looking someone switched all his chocolate out for shit, and he apparently has a bad nose.

First on the list (seriously the list is long) is the foundation of every cake, the humble list of ingredients (the script here people) used to ensure the rest of the cake will taste better than everyone else's and thus winning several awards. Brest stopped at the Devil's Food Store before the competition and picked up a few things that would help him win all the awards simultaneously and forever crown him the master of the cake (movie) world. The cashier should have warned him he was just buying different colors of the same stinky shit. The sript tries to blend all of these different genres of film (gangster flims, the buddy picture, a romantic comedy, the endearing tear-jerker and some weird rendition of a Three Musketeers) with it's quirky speeches that no one would ever say in real life. By the time these people get through with there "Triumph of the Will" dictorial reapings, no one is paying attention and quite frankly no one really knows why the hell someone would say that stupid shit. If you want something done right, cut out the fucking words and just do it. This is only the tip of this porta-potti iceberg.

Brest gets back to where he will be baking this cake and lays all of what he just bought out on the table. He entourage crowds behind him to see what they will use to win this little competition, and apparently they are all deaf, blind and dumb because they dont realize the train wreck that lay before them. One over-zealous cook backs away from the table with a smile, he can feel it, this is his moment...

This poor souls name is Ben Affleck, and he has had a somewhat moderate success in this world (he has been hit and miss his entire career), but he shows the world that he is the greatest baker (not the main baker, but the...whatever it is called) in this world or the next. Now, I understand the confusion here (if you aren't confused yet, congrats), "wait, isn't this movie horrible?" you say to yourselves, and yes it is probably the worst movie made in the last 10,000 years, but the only reason im giving Affleck such commendation is only because no one can act that much like a douchebag and not laugh in every scene. Affleck is amazing at keeping his composure despite knowing that this is making him look like the biggest ass on the face of the planet, and he puts his soul into it. Fact-Affleck cannot (CANNOT) be someone with a certain amount of "higher power"(in this case, some weird mafia affiliation) Fact-Affleck cannot (CANNOT) be a bad ass, he just isn't cut out for it, he is better off getting emotional over some lesbian (who isn't his wife (at the time)). Fact-Affleck's character is the father of all douchbags across the globe, he is the soul providor of all of their actions and ways of living, and he did this without anyone seeing him act in this movie. To sum it up, Affleck was not made for this part and it is quite sad to see him call himself a "gangstas' gangster true mack daddy pimp" or whatever the fuck it was. Brest does not realize this and he keeps crafting his ultimate shit storm.

The woman clung to Affleck as he begins mixing the flour with the eggs and butter(all made of shit by the way) is someone who I actually enjoy in a movie or two (The Cell (we will get to soon) and when she played Selena (the singer)), but for some reason she can't seem to stop holding onto Afflecks arm and plus she is dropping all the other shit into the wrong bowl and fucking up everything else as well, just burning the frosting (ive never been to a bake off, so im sure these are the only things left to do). She also suffers from being just a laughable character. She is some lesbian hitman or some shit who has a certain fondness for Thanksgiving (I will not ruin this for you, and the fact that you will never watch this movie will leave this little comment a mystery). She is both caring and cold, but bad at both on levels previously unknown to the world. Just a very unbelievable character in a cluster fuck of a world. Still burning the cake pan and the frosting, she smiles as she looks at her wedding ring. Insert the bells of tragedy here.

The young man sitting under the table yelling at the top of his lungs is Justin Bartha and he has every right to hide because he is an utter shame at what he does in this film. I guess I have to commend him for playing someone with a challenging life, but the sole fact that it is in this movie makes it an ignorant mocking of people with problems. Just bad taste is what it is, its not endearing when he has Affleck read ingredients to him or the fact he wants to go to "The Baywatch" its just salt in an open wound, and boy does it sting.

We look around Brest's cooking area and we see two old farts in the corner seeing who has the more badass DeNiro impression (he could not be there as he was preparing for the shitstorm Godsend). Al Pacino and Christopher Walker were the key ingredients in the crew of cooks and helpers that were destined to bring the blue ribbon home. The only problem is that both of these actors became irrelevant in the 90's (unless you think Scarface is amazing or you just can't get enough of Walken and his thing for a cow bell), but because they were somebodies at sometime Brest thinks that just having them in the movie (or baking the cake) he will score good numbers at the boxoffice (or judge's table). Im pretty sure i don't have to explain these two, as everyone knows they need to just retire with a little, if any, glory still left in those wrinkled skin bags of theirs. Bleh.

Everything else is just bad, bad, bad, bad. Im not going to waste anymore time here.

Brest is sweating as he carries his cake to the table to be evaluated by the sharp-eyed panel of judges. It's awfulness is dripping off of the platter it sits on and thus killing the green grass it touches as it lands. There is a brown aura that lingers around the 45 foot tall pile of hell-spawned refuse, but this doesn't stop Brest. He plops it onto the long table and the cake folds under its own horrible exsistence and seven of the 45 layers explode sending a thick brown sludge into the faces of the judges, burning them alive (there were flames and everything) and winning him absoluteley nothing, no ribbon, no nothing. Although someone does stop him and tells him that he has created the worst thing he has ever seen. Brest doesn't believe it, he turns to his crew as he knew they would never abaddon him in these times. His booth is empty, even the ghosts that dwell in ghosts towns and such aren't even there. They have all gone back to their homes to live with what they have done to the world, as it could not be taken back now. Brest is distraught and will never bake again (never direct again). Close curtains. Thank God.