Usually, I roll my eyes when I see Jack Black’s name attached to a moving picture project of any sort. I also tend to sway my ocular organs upwards whenever I see that the overpaid, pretentious fools in Hollywood with “Thalberg Syndrome” (a term that was coined, ironically enough, by George Lucas) have decided to look past the countless number of scripts turned in day after day by talented, hopeful and aspiring writers who offer some truly original ideas; favoring instead the chance to make something that had already been made several times over. Their method behind this madness, of course, is that once something has been proven successful, it’ll keep making money. Another oft-imprudent Tinseltown belief is that they can enhance that which had previously been hailed as “definitive” by incorporating new-and-improved special effects into a tired old story and subsequently abandoning said story altogether.
When I saw the advertisements for yet another version of Gulliver’s Travels, I thought to myself: “Hmm. Maybe they could actually pull this one off — even if it does star Jack Black.”
Yes, I was actually willing to give this one a chance, people.
Now, were I a religious individual, my initial reaction to the 2010 adaptation of Jonathan Swift’s immortal tale, Gulliver’s Travels, would have been a solemn and rather feeble “Why, God? Why!?” However, seeing as how I am not of the pious nature, my first retort to seeing the crack of Jack Black’s ass as it engulfed a poor, wretched Lilliputian soldier somewhere near the beginning of the film was a stern and very forceful “Fuck you, Hollywood!”
And, in case the horrific image of such an occurrence hasn’t succeeded in developing within your mind, here’s a screen-cap to give you nightmares for years to come.
You’re welcome.
Now then, let’s proceed with pointing out several other things about Gulliver’s Travels that should make you not want to see it (or remind you why you wish you hadn’t, in the event you already did). The story opens with a peek into the personal life of our hero, Lemuel Gulliver (as portrayed by Monsieur Noir) — a childish, overweight dweeb who has worked as the mailroom clerk of a New York newspaper for the better part of ten years who seemingly exists to do little more than play with his vintage Star Wars action figures (hey, at least he’s not foolin’ around with those damn PotF toys!); waste time with video games; and house a secret, 95%-creepy crush on the paper’s travel editor, Darcy (Amanda Peet, who no doubt longs for the days wherein she played second fiddle to Jason Biggs after this one).
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