Do you like going to the dentist?
I sure don’t.
I know I need a root canal—it’s in my upper left molar. Hurts like the dickens.
But I’d rather have every one of my teeth pulled out—one after another—sans anesthetic—than be forced to waste another two hours of my life watching yet another insipid episode of the “Pitch Perfect” film series.
Oh, you aren’t familiar with these female nitwits—a.k.a The Bellas—who are the “stars” of these insipid two-hour dramas?
Count yourself among the fortunate few.
Where do I start?
Well, there’s Fat Amy played by the plus sized Rebel Wilson, leading this gang of eight would be a capella singers. Included in this mix is Beca (Anna Kendrick) who wears perpetual black eye liner (day and night—even in the shower) which makes her uber creepy.
Of this dysfunctional girl-group, Kendrick can actually sing—having played the wayward Cinderella in Disney’s misfire
“Into the Woods” in 2014.
The official synopsis says, “Beca, a freshman at Barden University, is cajoled into joining The Bellas, her school’s all-girls singing group. Injecting some much needed energy into their repertoire, The Bellas take on their male rivals in a campus competition.”
I watched this first “Perfect” film (and its inevitable sequel) at our home—Casa Ruffolo Uno—the other night to prepare myself to having to watch this third dull and boring outing.
Throughout this initial, two-film, four-hour gag fest, I kept asking myself if this is what is really happening in the majority of colleges back in America with nubile 20 something men and women constantly bursting into song?
My generation was mired in the now-classic, “National Lampoon’s Animal House” in 1978 where controlled insanity from John Belushi reigned supreme.
Really silly stuff with only a scant hint of sexual impropriety.
But here in 2018, you can lay in the gutter, passing the slime filled butter popcorn to your heart’s delight.
Case in point, not 10 minutes into the first “Picture Perfect,” group member Aubrey (Anna Camp) hurls up her lunch—right into the assembled crowd.
Then does it once again by the film’s ending.
Oh … the joy of being a film critic.
Of course, the Bellas win the singing contest at this film’s ending and all is well in the world.
“Pitch Perfect 2” jacked up the tastelessness starting with Fat Anna splitting her form-fitting “dress” and going … commando in front of former US President Barack Obama at the historic Kennedy Center.
Sorry about that folks and let’s always remember that the Cebu Daily News is a family newspaper!
Now from the synopsis of that film: “After a humiliating commando performance at The Kennedy Center, the Barden Bellas enter an international competition that no American group has ever won in order to regain their status and right to perform.”
Ah … sure.
Which now bring us to the review of this third film of the series, “Pitch Perfect 3,” which is, without a doubt, the most narcissist, self-serving, egotistical of the three.
I cannot express into mere words how much I loathe this movie and the entire series of films.
And for those of you still reading this review, here is this synopsis: “After the highs of winning the world championships, the Bellas find themselves split apart and discovering there aren’t job prospects for making music with your mouth.
But when they get the chance to reunite for an overseas USO tour, this group of awesome nerds will come together to make some music, and some questionable decisions, one last time.”
Oh, my goodness.
What a bunch of has-been losers!
Just for the record, the USO is a US Government “NGO” that puts on musical and comedy performances for US military members and their families all over the world.
Now with the Bellas heading to Europe, you know the start of World War III can’t be far behind.
Yes, this all-girl band continues to constantly burst into song—with a full musical soundtrack behind them—all at a moment’s notice.
The marketing mantra of “Pitch Perfect 3” says that this is the finale of the series.
Can we be so fortunate?
Someday when Fat Amy and Beca become rotund grandmas with thighs so think from eating thousands of fast food cheeseburgers they can no longer hold their own weight, they (collectively) will pop a DVD of their films into a space capsule and send it off to one of the new Martian colonies.
Every Earthling has spent decades laughing at them.
Not with them.
Let’s give the Martians a chance.
Questions, comments or travel suggestions, write me at firstname.lastname@example.org.