Ain't It Cool News (


I’ve been exposed to this title more than I have any other film title in history I believe.

Everyday for the last 30 days I’ve watched that damn kitty-cat swing back and forth in the upper right corner of my site like some sort of hypnotic pocketwatch with fur. As I checked the page, tweaked the code, still the cat swung.

‘You Will See LOVE STINKS,’ it beckoned. But I did not want to. I don’t care how much money they spend advertising on my site... I just really could give a rat’s ass about the film, I felt like I was a newspaper critic who knew the biggest bomb in the world had a full page ad in his/her MOVIE SECTION. He/she doesn’t control the ad, they must merely tolerate it and celebrate their paycheck while being absolutely honest with the audience.

Of course passes arrived at my house. Dad wrote down the date... yadda yadda yadda... And today comes along. First off... I hadn’t slept in 37 hours when I went to pick up Tom Joad from the bi-plane from Oklahoma with Father Geek this morning. I came home fully intending to sleep. It didn’t happen. I continued working on the site, answering email until I hadn’t slept for 42 hours. Then.... zzzzzzzzzz...

Suddenly I’m awake. Father Geek is exclaiming for me to hurry. I have to get to a screening. So without opening my eyes I get ready, stumble to the car. Get in. And I ask... “What are we seeing?”

LOVE STINKS! Then the car was in reverse, the doors locked, there was no escape. I’m pleading with him that this movie is so bad it will warp my unspent sperm into cellular yo-yos.

He preaches at me that we have had the banner on the site forever now, I need to see and evaluate the film for all of you. I argue back that none of you have been fooled into so much as even wasting a spare second to ponder spending a washer to see the piece of shit. But then we are at the theater.


I get my drink glass that’s refillable through 2000, figuring it would give me an excuse to leave and get it re-filled as well as getting up and leave and take a long piss. These are all standard safety procedures one must prepare in order to survive a film so bad that one’s own eyes will bleed like those miraculous HOLY MARY statues in the STIGMATA trailer.

I sit in the theater taking an accounting of what exactly I had done in my life to end up in a seat for a screening of LOVE STINKS. How does this happen? What did I do to Dad? Why has he forsaken me with this Judas move. The senators were circling and the ides were coming late this year.

The radio personalities came out to do their regular huckstering. The audience was growling. FERNANDO was being really upbeat and saying things like, “I hear really great things about this movie.”

When suddenly from the rear of the theater I hear.... “THAT’S NOT WHAT I’VE HEARD!”

Why were people in their seats? I mean, with that sort of self-whipping sense that they were expecting bodily harm from merely watching this film.... Why? One of life’s mysteries I presume.

I figured I’d get some shuteye during the film and dream of Luc Besson’s THE MESSENGER or Frank Darabont’s THE GREEN MILE. Anything and anywhere but this place and this time.

Then the movie began.

Basically what followed was a film with 20 minutes to 30 minutes of fun material splattered with an hour and ten minutes of banal idiocy that reeked of wasted hours and moments of life and resources.

I remember seeing THE WAR OF THE ROSES a few years back... Maaaannnn, it’s been 10 years now. Anyway, that was a pretty decent film covering the same sort of subject matter with a far better cast and director and cinematographer and writer... But it still wasn’t real good in my book. In fact the key thing I remember about that film was that it was the first time I ever set eyes upon THE SIMPSONS. There was this theatrical SIMPSONS short that was attached to the front of some prints of THE WAR OF THE ROSES. I believe it was the last film I saw a film at the ol Varsity theater here in Austin before it was gutted and transformed into a TOWER RECORDS.

Now on the upside for LOVE STINKS, the movie wasn’t soooo bad that my eyes bled, instead I sat there listening to the sporadic laughter, which... when it struck it was akin to the electric shock that Pavlov’s doggies loved oh so much, and sipped my drink... praying that my bladder would give me the ability to leave and play video games in the lobby... But the bladder held and the cup was never empty.

However, as I sat there I found that the film lulls you. It made me wish to travel out of my seat and do something productive like sipping cat urine in a gutter. You know... Something new. Something to really get a reaction out of me... like vomiting... But this film felt like the flourescent lights in JOE VS THE VOLCANO.

But I stayed. I didn’t walk out. I don’t do that. You owe it to the movie you are watching to watch the entire train wreck. Because perhaps there will be a spectacular body flying out a window breaking a tree limb and doing that really cool MAD MAX body spin thing. Alas... that didn’t really happen here.

At one point when Bridgette Wilson dresses up like Elvis and goes into a number from VIVA LAS VEGAS with French Stewart in the Ann-Margret role. Now perhaps if she had remained in Elvis mode whilst making love to French that might have been fun and worth seeing at least once in life. A gorgeous Elvis with breast screwing the hell out of one of the King’s followers. But alas...

The film is filled with bad gags and bad storylines and characters. The bright spots are as we begin to head into the more safe comedy commode of FART HUMOR. It’s actually kind of amusing sort of, the kid that reviewed this film was right. There was some pretty halfway decent attempts at laughter, whenever blowing wind was concerned. So basically when their love stinks, this movie doesn’t, but unfortunately the film is filled with TERRIBLE scenes of standing around smiling at each other. Tick Tock Tick Tock...

The highest praise I can give the movie is that I’m still... somehow, but the grace of the God of Caffeine, awake.

If you can see the movie for free... well weigh it carefully. The TV veterans of SILVER SPOONS, BEVERLY HILLS 90210, 3RD ROCK FROM THE SUN, SAVED BY THE BELL, COUSIN SKEETER, FRESH PRINCE OF BEL-AIR, BAYWATCH, PLAYBOY’S BLONDES BRUNETTES AND REDHEADS video special really ‘shine’ as dimly as you would expect them... ahem.... The film’s direction from the creator and director of FULL HOUSE is... well on par with that.

Oh... and just in case you were thinking of going to see the *ahem* ample talents of Bridgette Wilson and Tyra Banks... know this. There is no nudity in this R rated film. It soft peddled it’s way there with the use of the word ‘FUCK’ and ‘COCK’ mostly.

Go only if you are a fan of BAD BAD MOVIES that noone else you know can stand. Going in with that sort of expectation might lessen the blow you will experience.

So, remember... Don’t be fooled by the ad banner for the film. Clickthrough... check out the trailer if they have it. See for yourself. But if I could spray paint the word “AVOID” under the film’s banner, I would.

I feel a bit like Maria Ouspenskaya or the denizens of the Slaughtered Lamb telling you to, “Beware...”

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