Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer

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This is an entirely appropriate angle for the poster since one is usually looking up at it from the floor after a fit of laughter/nausea/testicular rupturing.

Donkey: By now there is most likely one thing above all else that is apparent to anyone who has read through this blog in its entirety: the three men involved in this ritual of pain are geeks. Not the social outcasts you’d find in the extreme realm of the spectrum, as we can speak to women other than our mothers without looking more panicked than a pothead forty five minutes into a conversation about alien abduction, and we don’t happen to place personal grooming on our list of personal priorities about five notches beneath researching blueprints for our next Star Destroyer Vs USS Enterprise argument, but we’re geeks nonetheless. As such, there are certain stereotypical hobbies that the three of us enjoy. Seeing as we had experienced great cinematic adventures in the bowels of one of our favorite pastimes, videogames, our natural proclivities led us to explore another shared passion: comic books. Our expertise in the field is quite varied, and I represent the most modest element of the group. My comic collection as a child consisted primarily of whatever my father found at garage sales or comic book shop bargain bins, so while I’m quite well versed in most popular characters and their origins, my enthusiasm is fairly limited. After all, reading Justice League International #324 is only so captivating when you haven’t read issues #1 to #323 and know that you’ll probably never read another one again. Conversely, Blombo is fairly hardcore, as he seems to either own or have read every comic book that any hack writer and his moderately under-talented illustration partner have spewed up onto a napkin over a 3 AM coffee session at Denny’s. Milobar, on the other hand, lies somewhere in the middle…

Milobar: I hate comics. No, I’m serious. “But Mr. Mayor,” you whisper seductively in my ear, “if that is the case, why do you know so much about them?” The answer is twofold. First, once upon a time when I was a short, fat, pimply child, comics were an easy way to escape from the cruelty of my peers. Now that I am a short, fat, pimply man, I train in MMA so that I can just kick the shit out of my peers and ignore their cruelty. Second, you can’t truly hate something unless you have intimate domain knowledge on the subject.

What’s that? I’ve explained why I know so much about comics but not why I hate them? Let’s see, goofy costumes, disproportionately big breasted women, cliched heroes, cliched villains, a severe phobia of words with more than 2 syllables, retardiculous plots… do I need to keep going? Of course, comics are meant to be read by kids, right? So who cares if they are garbage? Well much like videogames, another product typically considered to be ‘for kids’, the true market is 25-35 year old men because we’re the only demographic that can afford the fucking things. The main difference between the two mediums being, according to Jack Thompson, videogames make me kill people. It’s hard to imagine a more adult-oriented product than that.

Donkey: But unlike movie adaptions of videogames which are almost universally regarded as Hindenburg-level disasters, when it comes to movies based on comics, there is quite the variety to be found. There are some that bring genuine legitimacy, that push the established boundaries of the medium and prove that these movies can be enjoyed and taken seriously by people whose age and IQ are larger than their shoe size. And that’s why you’ll never see us do a review of The Dark Knight, The Watchmen, or even Iron Man on this site. We are, however, quite willing to discuss Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer. After all, this movie is the polar opposite, as it tries to destroy the legitimacy of comic book movies in the same way that Paris Hilton pops a squat on the face of the advancement of women’s rights.

The Plot:

Donkey: Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer is the second chapter in the continuing misadventures of four people pretending to be productive members of, rather than extreme burdens on, society. This time they face a threat to not only their haphazard team, but the very existence of the entire planet. An entity known as Galactus is traveling through the universe, looking for tasty planets to devour with a side of potatoes au gratin. But Galactus is apparently a fan of Iron Chef as he has a refined palette that will only be satisfied by the freshest planets, so he enlists the aid of an alien misanthrope we come to know as the Silver Surfer. In exchange for not destroying his planet and by extension the woman he loves, the Silver Surfer agrees to travel ahead of Galactus and scout out new choice menu items and possibly 2-for-1 coupons. The Silver Surfer therefore becomes a harbinger of death and destruction, as a visit by him means that your planet will soon be passing through the lower colon of a giant space cloud. Think of him as the young, cock-eyed nephew that a near-immobile gastropod of a fat man has charged with scouting out a buffet so that he doesn’t have to waste valuable time or scooter battery power looking past the vegetables to get to the deep-fried-anything, and you start to get the picture.

Just when the Invisible Woman and Mr. Fantastic, or Sue Storm and Reed Richards as anyone who is not willing to enable their co-dependent delusions of relevance refers to them, are about to get married and take their first steps together down a path of shared sexual frustration and emotional alienation which will inevitably reach its conclusion in one of the most hilarious divorce proceedings known to humankind, the Silver Surfer arrives on Earth. The Silver Surfer travels through various locations around the globe, sucking out the energy of all that he passes, causing oceans to freeze and snow to fall in Egypt. This is rather appropriate seeing as this movie itself will suck the life out of anyone watching it, leaving only a hollow and dried up husk where a soul once existed. Despite their insistence that their wedding should be their top priority, the Fantastic Four are repeatedly hounded by General Hager and the US military who have this ridiculous notion that if the planet and every living thing on it is expelled out into the cosmos as space dookie, their wedding will be about as relevant as a Simon & Garfunkel t-shirt at a Slayer concert. But just as we’re set to witness the most significant coupling in human history since Diet Pepsi engaged in a freaky mating ritual with vanilla, cherry, and jazz, the Silver Surfer conveniently flies directly over Manhattan and brings the ceremony to a halt. Seeing his opportunity to shine while the other three are bathing in their own indignity, the Human Torch sets off in pursuit, only to be thoroughly molested and infected with a super hero STD. We soon discover that this strange infection causes him to swap powers with anyone he comes into contact with, but not in a way that would conform to any basic rules of logic.

In their first collective confrontation with the Silver Surfer, the Fantastic Four very literally accomplish NOTHING. Beyond failing to even engage their opponent in even the simplest way possible, they also manage to completely fuck up the very modest task of saving a goddamn Ferris wheel. So to counter the abundance of incompetence being displayed, General Hager looks for assistance from the newly resurrected Dr. Doom. Apparently the general public didn’t seem to notice that he was the villain in the first film. Forced to co-operate, the Fantastic Four and Dr. Doom manage to remove the Silver Surfer from his surfboard, which is apparently the source of his power.

But just as the day seems to have been won and everyone will be able to go home with ice cream sandwiches and an overinflated sense of importance, Dr. Doom betrays the military and the Fantastic Four, taking the surfboard as his own. Seeing as they have proven time and time again that they are about as capable of working together as Pat Robertson and common sense, they instead opt to give Johnny “The Human Ballsack” Storm all of their powers instead, instantly transforming his arbitrary STD from a source of wacky comedic tomfoolery to a convenient plot point that helps to resolve the film. With all of their powers combined, Johnny is able to remove Dr. Doom from the surfboard and return it to its rightful owner. Of course, by this point the Silver Surfer has already revealed himself to be not a menacing destroyer of the Earth, but as a sympathetic pawn. With his surfboard returned to him and Sue Storm giving him a tiny erection, the Silver Surfer decides to stand up to Galactus (who could not have picked a better time to appear) and save the planet from its imminent digestion.

And in case you’re keeping score, yes, this means that even by the end of the film, the Fantastic Four still manage to accomplish nothing as a team. What a great fucking movie.

The Case for Greatness (aka The Lowlights):

Milobar: Get ready for it, here comes Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer.

Donkey: Or as I like to call it, Bad Idea II: The Teabagging Of Irrelevance.

Milobar: I personally like to call it Pppppllllgggghhhh: My Balls!

Donkey: The movie begins with what we will later discover is Galactus ravaging a planet, consuming it much in the same way that actually reading a Fantastic Four comic would erode your imagination and basic motor functions.

Milobar: It’s pretty gay that they turned Galactus into a giant interstellar cloud, but I suppose it’s still less gay than if they kept him the same as he was in the comics. A giant space dude in a purple outfit. Fuck you, Stan Lee.

Donkey: I disagree. A giant dude in a purple suit and a ridiculous hat backstroking his way through the depths of eternity would be just the kind of hilarity that would fit right into this catastrophic clusterfuck of a movie.

Milobar: As Galactus finishes consuming a random planet, the left over pieces of the lifeless husk rocket into space like so much intergalactic diarrhea. In the center of this ‘shit storm’? The Silver Surfer!

Donkey: I’ll go on record right now to say that the Silver Surfer is one of the worst fucking comic book characters of all time, right up there with Captain America. A naked dude on a surfboard? Are you fucking kidding me? I would sooner read a fucking comic book series about a gold plated dog traveling through space in a goddamn Ford Focus, searching for the most pungent anus in all the galaxy to give a good sniffing. Seriously. Give me a fucking burrito with a cleft lip riding a Philips screwdriver as a character instead. Anything.

Milobar: You can tell that he was created in the 50’s when surfing was considered cool or extreme. Nobody gives a shit about surfers these days. As the opening credits roll by we get to see a lot of names that I do not, and hopefully never will, recognize. I’m sure one of these people is the physical model for the Silver Surfer, but the voice is done by Lawrence Fishburne. Fuck, Lawrence, what were you thinking?

Donkey: At least he’s not actually in the movie. Perhaps he looked at this the same way that many actors look at doing ridiculous advertisements in Japan: the odds of anyone seeing this movie are slim, and those who do watch it probably don’t have the processing capacity to recognize his voice or read his name in the credits. Hell, so few people will see this that I hear the FBI has considered using any future Fantastic Four movies as a safe haven for people in the witness relocation program.

Milobar: The Silver Surfer finally arrives on Earth and starts ‘surfing’ around the planet. I say ‘surfing’ because what he is doing is actually flying, flying around on a surfboard. It makes me feel like I am watching Marty McFly in Back to the Future 2 scooting around on a hover board. He passes over Japan and manages to freeze a large area of the ocean because, apparently, he absorbs all the energy from the environment. Of course when he flies over New York, all he does is turn off all the lights.

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Hey guys? I think I broke my ass...

Donkey: “I fell overboard onto a picture of the ocean. Help!” Seriously, that doesn’t look remotely close to the actual ocean. That’s so lazy that the Japanese fisherman might as well be sitting on a sheet of plywood labeled ‘ocean’.

Milobar: Enter the cream filling of this shit sandwich, the Fantastic Four! On a plane. Flying coach. Why would the Fantastic Four fly on a plane in coach? They’re goddamn super heroes. And Reed Richards is supposed to be a stupid rich motherfucker. Shouldn’t they have rocket boots or something?

Donkey: They’re told by the ticket agent just before boarding that the flight’s overbooked and that they’ll have to be bumped to coach. Honestly, if you had to bump people, would you really do it to the Forgettable fucking Four? These people are supposed to be world famous heroes at this point. You wouldn’t even bump Lindsay Lohan, and last I checked, she’d done even less to contribute to humanity than these dipshits. It does, however, set up a couple of minutes of hilarious situational comedy. A man nearly shits his pants when he sees that he has to sit next the Thing and Mr. Fantastic uses his arm to stretch across the plane and put his bag into someone else’s overheard bin. Now that’s comedy!

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Jackpot! I found the in-flight porn!

Milobar: How did his fucking jacket stretch with his arm? Seriously? Come on. At least the Human Torch is smart enough to not bother flying on a commercial airline.

Donkey: Johnny declares that he doesn’t fly coach and the movie tries to make him look like kind of a douche for saying that, but come on. Who wouldn’t just fly themselves, if they had the choice? I don’t remember seeing Superman riding the goddamn red eye.

Milobar: Who would let any of these assholes onto an airplane? Isn’t that just begging to have someone try to blow up your goddamn plane?

Donkey: We could only wish. Within only minutes of its running time, it’s already clear that the movie really is the greatest combination of all time. The only way to top the absolute uselessness of the Fantastic Four is to add in the irritable genital wart that is the Silver Surfer. Once the Flushable Four have reached their destination, we’re treated to banter about Sue and Reed’s upcoming wedding, as Reed tinkers away at an insanely fast pace on a PDA.

Milobar: Apparently he can move his thumbs extremely fast just because they’re all rubbery. That doesn’t make any goddamn sense. It looks like Johnny agrees with me and tries to get Reed to cut loose by throwing him a bachelor party. As these three dudes, who very obviously and very depressingly only ever hang out with each other, sidle in to a night club it becomes painfully apparent that they are all still virgins. The Thing, resigning himself to his fate of being a giant orange turd, chugs a beer at the bar and then burps so hard that it blows back another dude’s giant afro! HILARIOUS!

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I've never been to one of these places before, what do we do now?

Donkey: While Johnny is off somewhere trying to pretend that he’s not secretly gay, Reed’s wild night starts with explaining the Big Bang Theory to random bar stars. How the fuck did that come up? “Say ladies, can I offer you a drink? No? How about a long, exhausting lecture on the current theory of the origin of life in the universe? Bingo.” But he’ll have to be careful showing off that giant throbbing brain of his. After all, everyone knows that girls in the clubs loves them the booksmarts. All he has to do now is pull out a protractor and he’ll be handed the key to Orgytown.

Milobar: Obviously impressed by Mr. Fantastic’s ability to hold a one sided conversation with perpetual loneliness, the girls drag him out to the dance floor where he gets his groove on like only a white man can.

Donkey: Yes…horribly and in a sweater vest.

Milobar: Man, if I had abilities like Mr. Fantastic, I’d use them to punch everyone in the room all at once. Constantly. What I definitely would not do is the goddamn worm dance with my arms, unless it was supposed to be some sort of hypnotic prelude to me punching everyone in the the room all at once.

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My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.

Donkey: Judging from his character so far, I’m willing to bet that it was meant to be a prelude to a series of reacharounds. But just as this scene is reaching its climax of funk, the totally unpredictable happens as Sue Storm enters the club with General Hager and a team of military personnel who had shown up at the Baxter Building earlier, desperately in search of the Farcical Four. And as only the truly elite among us would guess, Sue is immediately angry at the display that she is forced to witness. What a clever scene.

Milobar: Are you serious? He’s dancing with girls at his bachelor party. Grow the fuck up honey.

Donkey: I’d understand if she were mad because she caught him ball-deep in a hooker’s ass, but this is a little much. Once they catch Reed’s attention and he stumbles his way through trying to diffuse Sue’s anger, our four heroes all gather in the club’s kitchen for a quick briefing. General Hager hands them a completely generic photograph, looking at them like they should be using it to decipher the DaVinci Code.

Milobar: Reed confidently states that he’s never seen anything like this! It’s a white streak against a starry background for fuck’s sake. It looks like someone blew their load on a picture of the Big Dipper.

Donkey: Almost every picture of a comet looks exactly like that. But no matter the arbitrary evidence of what appears to be nothing that they’re presented with, Reed and Sue are having none of it.

Milobar: Sorry I can’t help save the world, I’m getting married. That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard. What kind of selfish, self-centered bitch not only accepts but expects that answer from her significant other? “Good. I’m glad you decided not to save the world so that we can get married because that’s more important than surviving this potential disastrous holocaust and saving the lives of billions.”

Donkey: The type who deserves a spineless man who would fold to that kind of request. Honestly, it’s entirely appropriate that Reed Richards is a giant rubber band, as he clearly has no backbone. But while they’re shedding all the basic moral responsibilities that come bundled with being entrusted as heroes, their old nemesis, Dr. Doom, is in somebody’s basement somewhere in Europe paying a dude to put a blowtorch to his face. He’s that kind of kinky, apparently.

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Fred Garvin, Male Prostitute

Milobar: In the first movie Dr. Doom’s skin turned into metal, so technically when that mask comes off it should just be muscles and tendons underneath. Unfortunately we get to see this guy’s ugly mug instead. I would have preferred the muscles and tendons.

Donkey: The movie soon transitions back to the long awaited wedding. As the guests begin to file in, we are forced to bear witness to Stan Lee’s mandatory cameo. This whole schtick is so fucking old. Yes, you deserve credit for creating a lot of these classic characters, but how many times do you demand that we pay tribute to you? How many dozen times is enough? This guy is the goddamn Kanye West of comic book movies. And as he’s being turned away because the security guard doesn’t recognize his name, we discover that he’s actually playing himself in this one, which is even worse. What kind of fucked up meta situation is the movie trying to create there?

Milobar: As she’s getting ready for the wedding, the Invisible Woman starts having second thoughts, wondering if her life is always going to be a circus. YOU HAVE SUPER FUCKING POWERS. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU EXPECT YOUR LIFE IS GOING TO BE LIKE?

Donkey: It seems like a perfectly reasonable thought to me. The Invisible Woman, head of Accounts Receivable. And as it shows Reed Richards preparing for the his nuptials, we discover that even though he promised he wouldn’t, he actually was working on a device for the military to help them track the Silver Surfer.

Milobar: Fuck, weddings are retarded. This one especially. I’m going to make you a promise right now, sweet and tender reader. One day I’m going to build a time machine. Then I’m going to use it to find the guy that invented weddings and punch him in the ballsack so hard his testes will disappear up his asshole like some sort of crazy upside down version of whack-a-mole. Finally, I will use my time machine to seduce your Mother and become your Father.

Donkey: In the middle of this rooftop wedding, the Silver Surfer ambles by once again to destroy the device Reed built to track him, causing the city’s power to go out. In amongst the mayhem, one of the helicopters filming the ceremony begins to crash, flying across the length of the entire rooftop and smashing everything with its propeller blades. Has a helicopter ever actually crashed like that? If we’re going to stick that close to reality, why not also have it spraying beef gravy and used copies of Rick Astley’s seminal 1987 album, Whenever You Need Somebody? Sue Storm and the Thing manage to stop it before it can kill anyone, which proves to be one of the only things in this entire movie that they actually do right.

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This is why you don't invite helicopters to your wedding.

Milobar: Of course, all the Invisible Woman really cares about is, “My wedding’s been ruined!”

Donkey: For the first time we finally get to see the Silver Surfer as the character as he is, a random naked dude on a surfboard, rather than just a streak across the sky. And he looks magnificent.

Milobar: Personally, I preferred the streak.

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Is the Silver Surfer gonna have to choke a bitch?

Donkey: After some time, Johnny manages to finally catch up to the Silver Surfer, only to be grabbed by the throat and lifted up into the atmosphere.

Milobar: Too bad he didn’t go a little bit higher and take the Human Torch right out into space.

Donkey: He may as well have. The Silver Surfer takes Johnny high enough that his flames extinguish, and then drops him back to the Earth. If he’s high enough up that you can see stars, the Earth below, and there’s no oxygen, shouldn’t Johnny be dead? Regardless, the Human Torch eventually makes his way back to the rest of the team and recounts his rather pathetic tale, saying that he knows it sounds crazy, but it really was a dude on a surfboard that he was chasing. No, it doesn’t sound crazy. It sounds stupid. Really, really stupid.

Milobar: Crazy? I’ll tell you what’s fucking crazy: an orange dude made out of rock criticizing a story about a silver dude on a surfboard. Are you fucking kidding me? This entire goddamn movie is crazy! It’s like taking a leisurely stroll through the Village of the Damned in Gymkata!

Donkey: Johnny, feeling strange and not knowing that he’s contracted space-syphilis, jumps off the Baxter Building to test his powers only to plummet straight to the ground. Granted that I don’t know much about the specifics of the Human Torch and his powers, but shouldn’t that either kill him or at least really hurt when he hits the ground? I know he can cover himself in flames and fly, but I would have thought that the impact would hurt him as much as anyone else.

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Almost as embarrassing as being in a movie with Dane Cook.

Milobar: Seeing her brother in trouble, Sue comes to Johnny’s aid, and when she touches him they swap powers. Naturally she inadvertently and immediately lights herself on fire. Johnny touches her again, and they swap their powers back. Of course now she’s naked. She turns herself invisible and asks “why does this always happens me?”. Because you’re the one with titties honey. That’s why they always have to make the same tired joke about you being naked. It just wouldn’t be as funny if a wang were involved.

Donkey: Although I think it would make this movie a lot more interesting if during one of her naked scenes, a wang was revealed. Throw a pre-op tranny in there and the Fantastic Four starts to make a lot more sense. As a side note, the movie doesn’t address it, but I’m rather curious as to what would happen if Johnny touched a regular person.

Milobar: They’d end up with a really small penis.

Donkey: A short time later the Flamboyant Four are gathered in a room of giant monitors and science where Reed is taking them through the path of the Silver Surfer, sharing his discovery that every planet that the Silver Surfer has visited was destroyed exactly eight days later.

Milobar: Where exactly did Reed Richards get all this information? Wikipedia?

Donkey: How does he calculate that these planets had died within exactly eight days of the Silver Surfer arriving there?

Milobar: Ummm… fuck! Who cares? Fuck this movie. Turn it off.

Donkey: I love it when a comic book character is proclaimed to be a genius, so you therefore don’t have to justify how they comes up with all of this shit. He’s smart, so he’ll find a way. Enough said.

A short time later the Fantastic Four are traveling with the military, flying to what they believe will be the Silver Surfer’s next location. They piss and moan like school kids, as the Human Douche and the Thing whine about how the other two should have told them that they were considering dropping out of the team to try to start a normal life, while Sue and Reed defend themselves about as well as a quadriplegic being attacked by a swarm of locust. Once their argument gets to a point of maturity that could cause someone to mistakenly believe they were watching an episode of Dora The Explorer, General Hager brings the conversation to an abrupt halt, asking, “what the hell is wrong with you people?”

Milobar: Good fucking question General. I suddenly just realized that he could have been asking that question to the two of us, or anyone else who has seen this movie.

Donkey: Once they arrive at their destination, London, we’re treated to a display of how fucking useless the Fantastic Four truly are. As the Silver Surfer begins his dramatic entrance, the famous Ferris wheel on the Thames River starts falling over and it takes three of them to hold it up. After a considerable amount of bungling, all they manage to do is spot-weld the thing back into place, thus permanently fucking that thing up beyond repair. And that’s it. That’s all they do. Thank you, Fantastic Four! Now since this goddamn wheel will never turn again, how about you stick around and help the people in those top carriages get back down to the ground? No? Fuck you, Fantastic Four!

Milobar: A Ferris wheel? Between the four of them they barely manage to repair one Ferris wheel? This has got to be the most retarded super hero team ever.

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That's actually not even a super power. It just really, really burns when he pees.

Donkey: They didn’t spend so much as a moment actually fighting or even talking to the Silver Surfer. Once they step back to look at the destruction that was caused while they were busy being useless, they notice the entire Thames River is completely gone. That seems a little more catastrophic to me than this movie is making it seem. If the entire Thames River was annihilated tomorrow, I think there would be significant consequences.

Upon returning from their exceptionally productive trip, the Fellatio Four find out that General Hager has enlisted the assistance of Dr. Doom.

Milobar: The General, in the typical inspiring style of the American military, tells the Fantastic Four that they are useless. And while granted, they are, what has the army done this entire time? Stumble around and bitch that civilians aren’t working hard enough. Which I guess is pretty much their entire job description, so carry on General, carry on. After watching a video of an earlier encounter, they all conclude that the surfboard is the source of all the Silver Surfer’s powers. This premise is so fucking idiotic. Just take his surfboard away from him and he’ll lose his powers. Maybe he should follow suit with real surfers and attach an ankle strap to his board, just in case.

After the debriefing Johnny gets reprimanded by a female military officer that he, of course, has the hots for. She tells him this isn’t a game. You’re right, this isn’t a game, this is a shitty movie. I wish it were a game, because then I could swap out the Fantastic Four for some better characters.

Donkey: Let’s not get too hasty. I seem to remember a certain someone playing the videogame based on this shitty movie with me and Blombo and getting very angry after playing four straight levels of the exact same thing.

Milobar: That game was fucking horrible! Do you remember that level that had the elevator that wouldn’t go down, even though we pushed the goddamn button it told us to? So we ran around looking for a key, or a switch, or a cyanide pill to end our suffering, and after about ten minutes, right before we were about to turn the game off, the elevator just decided to start moving on its own, with no interaction from us whatsoever. Oh yeah, now I remember! THAT WAS THE FIRST FUCKING LEVEL!

Donkey: Actually, I think that was every level. That game is the perfect companion piece to this film. Next we see the gang setting up their trap for the Silver Surfer somewhere in the woods. Hopefully this time they’ll manage to at least catch his attention. Maybe even get him to look their way.

Milobar: As the Thing is setting up his portion of Reed’s intergalactic anal probe, a bear wanders by. They growl at each other and, as is often the case in a who can be the loudest asshole competition, the less educated of the two wins and the bear stumbles off in defeat. This movie is so goddamn retarded it makes me feel like I am having a heart attack IN MY BRAIN.

Donkey: And much like Spinner in Arena or the dogs in Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins, there goes my favorite character in this entire movie. Come back, bear. I’d rather watch you wrestle the Silver Surfer than these turd burglars.

Sir, doesn't this eliminate the point of wearing clothes that are supposed to blend us into the environment?

Sir, doesn't this eliminate the point of wearing clothes that are supposed to blend us into the environment?

Milobar: Hey didn’t you say they were setting up a trap in the woods? So why are all the army personnel wearing blue cammo?

Donkey: Green is too average. You’ve gotta wear cammo that’s ‘catalogue only’. Miraculously, Reed’s plan actually manages to work, and the Silver Surfer is knocked off his board. Soon after, they’re all taken to a secret bunker in Siberia where the Fantastic Four are forced to wait in a small holding room while the military interrogates the Surfer. I know this is something small and stupid, but how is it that the Silver Surfer, an alien from a different world who has no technology at all, speaks English?

Milobar: The Power Cosmic my friend. A gift from Galactus.

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Jesus, this guy's about to have some nasty diarrhea.

Donkey: That seems pretty fucking unnecessary, seeing as he’s not being sent around to negotiate with these planets. He’s just checking them out and giving Galactus the thumbs up. Say, does the Power Cosmic also allow him to show a DVD on his stomach? Because once Sue breaks into his interrogation room to talk to him, that’s exactly what he does to explain who Galactus is and why he’s working for him. Damn, if I could project random Youtube videos on my stomach, that would make the Power Cosmic the greatest thing I’ve ever heard of.

Milobar: Moments later we see Galactus passing Saturn. Why doesn’t he just devour that planet?

Donkey: It looks like he’s fucking up Saturn pretty good as he’s passing it too, as the rings are being absolutely obliterated. Again, you would think that would have some repercussions for the solar system. This reminds me of that goddamn spell at the end of Final Fantasy VII that consisted of a comet ripping through the universe, destroying all the planets in its path, and exploding two inches in front of your characters’ faces. It seemed rather dramatic until your enemy casts it more than once, blowing up the same planets over and over. In both cases, it’s clear that nobody is bothering to account for the repercussions of the actions they display, which takes all the drama out of the event in the first place. Rather than being significant, it’s a goddamn side note. The other thing that I love in this particular scene is that you can clearly see Earth as a small blue planet in the distance from that point. Are you shitting me? You can’t fucking see Earth that well from Saturn.

Milobar: Of course you can. The Earth is massive. I hear it’s huge in Japan right now. As they’re interrogating the Silver Surfer, the military allows Dr. Doom to just walk into the room where they’re keeping the surfboard. They don’t think that’s dangerous? I don’t understand why they’re allowing him to wander around and do whatever he wants, and yet they’ve got the Fantastic Four locked up in a room.

Donkey: As I’ve mentioned, I haven’t seen the first one and therefore didn’t see how it ended so I can’t speak definitively, but you’d think that it would be obvious to everyone at this point, particularly the military, that he’s a villain.

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Victor Von Doom, Male Prostitute

Milobar: Especially since he also has super powers. Super lightning hand powers. After incapacitating the guards Dr. Doom takes the time to change his outfit before claiming the surfboard. Victor, I think we need to have a discussion about priorities.

Donkey: Once he’s in his finest evening wear and has finally mounted that bitch, Dr. Doom hits General Hager with something that causes him to instantly shatter.

Milobar: Next up, the destruction of the Fantastic Four! I’ve been waiting for this the entire movie! Victor, where are you going? You left the Fantastic Four down here. Come back! Kill them! Shit! Quick Reed, pursue him in your shitty flying car, literally called the Fantasticar. You know, it kind of bothers me that I know that.

Donkey: It bothers me that you know that. That name’s even dumber than the Batmobile, and I always thought that name was fucking wretched. Wait, what? On the hood of the Fantasticar, you can clearly see that this thing is a Dodge. WHAT?! If he built this himself, why is there a corporate logo on it? Or did he have the boys in Detroit build this for him? If so, they’re not going very fucking far.

Milobar: Mr. Fantastic points out that his flying Barbiemobile has a Hemi in it. A Hemi in a flying machine? That makes no goddamn sense.

Donkey: At this point, the movie makes it clear that the rest of the team didn’t know about this car’s existence. Which means that Reed built it in his own free time. That’s fucking ridiculous. Reed Richards may be a scientist and a genius, but how did he manage to build something like this in his spare time without anybody noticing? It’s not just a matter of designing and putting together a couple of parts. He had to bend and mould steel, for Christ’s sake. He had to weld all that shit together. He had to manufacture all the parts. How did nobody notice that?

Milobar: And for some reason none of the seats have canopies, which means it’s bug stew for dinner tonight!

Comment

A glaring and catastrophic design flaw? Yep, that's a Dodge alright.

Donkey: Not to mention that once you start flying even moderately fast, you wouldn’t be able to actually draw any breath. But I also find it hilarious that once they’re in the air, the audience and the team discovers that this Fantasticar also splits into four parts, so that they can all fly individually. You know, you might want to tell the others that they’re going to have to pilot their own shit before that point, and maybe even show them how. Perhaps an instructional demo before you go live, or a fucking Lunch And Learn (sorry folks, office humor).

Milobar: A shitty corporate DVD…”Your Fantasticar And You”.

Donkey: After they’ve chased Dr. Doom for some time in their flying AMC Pacer with absolutely zero success at slowing him down, the Feeble Four finally chase him to a cityscape, where they land and regroup. Suddenly, Dr. Doom decides to throw a metal spear at the Silver Surfer and kill him. Okay, not really sure why he’d bother at this point, but let’s just go with it. Just as it seems like the world will be rid of this naked silver travesty, Sue Storm steps in the spear’s path and attempts to block it with a force field. Just to keep par on this course, she fails miserably and ends up being impaled through the chest. Well done. As things are now getting more desperate, the other three fire up the two-cylinder weed whacker motors that they refer to as brains to try find a way to break this long running streak of absolute failure. And right about then, Galactus makes his appearance in the stratosphere above them.

Comment

Have you ever consider vaginoplasty?

Milobar: That is one very large intergalactic space vagina. In response to the hovering space vagina, Johnny comes up with a plan which includes everybody on the team except Mr. Fantastic, The Thing, and The Invisible Woman.

Donkey: Realizing that they can’t possibly work together, even though they’re very specifically supposed to be a goddamn team, the other three members of the Fantastic Four finally decide to make use of Johnny’s random STD and give all of their powers to him. To do this, of course, they all touch him at once. There is a massive problem with this little point, however. Seeing as he’s exchanged powers with everyone that he’s touched so far, this SHOULDN’T FUCKING WORK. You would think that they’d all just randomly switch powers at that point.

Milobar: Or he’d gain all of their abilities and they’d get his.

Comment

This is why, this is why I'm hot.

Donkey: This is fucking stupid, ridiculously convenient, and of course facilitates the movie to resolve everything incredibly quickly. After about two minutes of grappling, Johnny manages to knock Dr. Doom off the surfboard. Watching the Human Shit Stain fight using all their powers together, it’s really obvious that if the four of them had just worked together, they could have accomplished the exact same result.

Milobar: If they were a team and not just a bunch of douchebags who wear matching outfits every damn day.

Donkey: Johnny returns from his pathetic tussle and immediately touches all the others to give them back their powers. That’s just as fucking stupid as him getting them all in the first place. How did he manage to dispense those out to the right people, instead of randomly? They don’t bother to consider this, because even the writers just wanted the movie to end already. At this point the Silver Surfer has decided, after being touched by the Invisible Woman’s sacrifice to save him, that he is going to stand up to Galactus and actually ends up defeating him. Maybe it’s just me, maybe this is easier said than done, but why wouldn’t you have just done that in the fucking first place? Why not stand up to him before you’ve destroyed countless planets? What took so goddamn long?

Milobar: I’m going to guess that other planets don’t have baked Pizza Pops. Because once you’ve had a baked Pizza Pop, man, you’ll do anything to save that shit. Best Pizza Pop you’ll ever eat.

Donkey: Goddamn right. That’s an orgasm in the mouth, pizza style.

Milobar: After being defeated by the Silver Surfer, Galactus explodes within low Earth orbit and sends a massive shockwave in every direction.

Comment

Tomorrow's forecast: mostly cloudy with a chance of fiery space debris.

Donkey: In no way is the Earth even modestly affected. You know, considering how badly a simple comet hitting us would fuck up the planet, I’m pretty sure we’d all be pretty dead after this. But once again, why bother to consider consequences. Assholes.

Milobar: “What did I miss,” asks the Invisible Woman as she returns to consciousness. I’m going to say acting lessons. Now that everything is resolved, Reed and Sue decide to have their wedding in Japan. And somehow they get the same fucking priest from New York.

Comment

These people are such fuck ups that I'm surprised they didn't accidentally make a '6'.

Donkey: Afterwards, they all fly off in the Fastasticar. I can’t think of a better way to end this shitty movie.

Milobar: How about drawing a giant ‘4’ in the air?

Donkey: Sweet Jesus. Then two minutes into the credits, the movie shows the Silver Surfer floating in space, appearing to drift lifelessly after having defeated Galactus. But suddenly…his eyes open. He’s alive! FUCK! That’s the final kick in the balls this movie delivers, and that makes this whole goddamn story even fucking dumber. Not only did he choose not to sacrifice himself to defeat Galactus in the first place, saving his planet, the woman he loves, and countless lives that were lost thereafter, but he didn’t even fucking have to. He didn’t have to sacrifice himself at all. He fought Galactus, killed him, and lived. Fuck, you cancel out your own threat that way, making this whole thing pointless. Why build up this massive threat to the universe that is so fucking easily destroyed, thus proving that you could have done it at any time? That means the whole story should have been done in two minutes.

Milobar: That’s why comics are fucking retarded my man.

Donkey: This is the worst fucking example of it that I’ve ever seen. This is such fanboy bullshit. This whole goddamn movie is so fucking lazy.

Milobar: It’s the type of shit a dumb British woman with bad teeth writes in her dream journal in some fucking coffee shop in London. Then it gets published and sells a million copies because all the fucking idiots out there with a grade three reading level gobble it up. And then those same motherfuckers go to work in the morning and write Fantastic Four comics.

Donkey: This is the type of comic book movie that sucks the life out of any hope that people could actually respect comic book movies because it’s so unimaginative in every way. It’s filled with horrible jokes that only a five year old could laugh at, surrounded by a plot that even they would consider retarded.

Milobar: Just consider Reed Richards building the Fantasticar. I can accept him building something in theory, but at least give me a montage, don’t just pull that shit out of your ass.

Donkey: Instead, Reed Richards builds in his spare time when no one is looking. WHEN? There are only so many hours of the day that you can be productive. Did he build it when everyone else was out for fucking pizza?

Milobar: Then we have the consistently horrible jokes throughout the entire movie. Awkwardly asking how the big rock dude and the blind woman make with the humpy humpy. The Invisible Woman burning off all of her clothes and people staring at her on the street while she’s naked. Really? Are we fucking seven?

Donkey: I think you’d pretty much have to be.

Milobar: Now granted, it was pointed out to me by a friend that this movie is supposed to be for kids. But the jokes about sex and showing a dude’s body get blown in half. Come on, that’s not really “G” rated material.

Donkey: If nothing else, this movie is a great indicator as to how old a hardcore comic book fan truly is at heart.

The Verdict:

Milobar: I went in to this movie hating the Fantastic Four and I came out of this movie hating the Fantastic Four, so I can’t really say I disliked it. In fact, I feel almost obligated to say that I enjoyed this movie simply because it reaffirmed my belief that the Fantastic Four are the epitome of horrible comic book characters. This film delivered on and exceeded my worst expectations, which is quite a feat, because I’m really good at being extremely cynical. As such I hereby bestow up Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer (aka Pppppllllgggghhhh: My Balls!) the coveted rating of one Flame-on out of one Flame-er.

Donkey: The single biggest flaw that I have found in any comic book series is that they take a moderately good idea and then subject them to a slow, agonizing death to be witnessed by prepubescent males who would rather be patronized than try to read a story that isn’t set to pictures. After all, no matter how interesting your characters and their circumstances are, there is no way to maintain that over the course of several hundred issues. Therefore, movies based on comic books theoretically provide the opportunity to showcase the best that comics have to offer, with concise and complete stories that can focus on the origins of the character and their nemeses, pitting them against one another in a conflict that conveys the overall theme of the book. That being said, Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer is concrete evidence that neither the Fantastic Four or the Silver Surfer were ever a good idea in the first place. But even with terrible source material, this movie still takes a substantial budget and manages to make a complete waste of it. This kind of genuine failure provides some great Shitty Movie Night laughs, but I have to take a little bit of credit away due to the sheer laziness involved. I give this movie four ‘flaming men’ out of five poorly hidden gay innuendos.

What We Learned:

Milobar: Despite evidence presented by the Super Skrull to the contrary, the only thing more effective than a team of heroes with super powers, is one flaming dude with that team’s same super powers. Coincidentally, the only thing more entertaining than watching this movie is watching anything else.

Donkey: Absolutely nothing, without a doubt. So instead, I thought I’d take a moment to test the knowledge that you’ve gained through our recounting of this exceptional film. Please answer the following questions and remember, you will be graded on correctness, poise, and the volume at which you scream your answer. Good luck!

1) The Fantastic Four fight for…

a) …truth, justice, and the American way.
b) …indifference, used French-Polynesian office furniture, and the possibly Norwegian way.
c) …government subsidies to continue funding their ongoing personal research into the wearing of asses for hats.
d) …the right to party. Alone, but party nonetheless.
e) …something that can never be defined, as they fight so poorly that it would require you to characterize the term ‘nothing’.

Answer: B. Who knew?

2) The Silver Surfer was created by…

a) …a man who hated himself nearly as much as he hated all of you.
b) …a third grade student scrambling after having forgotten to bring his Pet Rock for show-and-tell.
c) …Henry Winkler.
d) …a CIA subcommittee after launching a new program aimed at gathering up what the government refers to as the “ultra-stupids”.
e) …a man that Marvel Comics should have horsewhipped rather than encouraged, if there really was a just and loving god.

Answer: C. Damn you, Fonzie. Damn you straight to hell.

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