Extract | Review By Matt R.
Posted by Greg Weinstein | Filed under Culture, Film
I used to work in an extract factory too. There is no joke here. Welcome to this movie.
Jump, jump. The Daddy Mack will make you…
The fabulous, fantastic, and lovely Mila Kunis is a con artist. She uses her adorability to steal a guitar from a random music-nerd Hal Sparks cameo. Unfortunately, I do know who Pat Methany is, the King of Jazz fusion, and that is in no way a proper punch line to this scene.
Bateman owns a factory that makes extract. Extract is a cooking ingredient used to enhance flavor. This movie could have used some enhanced flavor. All of his workers are morons. Not the redeemable wacky kind, who come together in the end. These folks are hopeless caricatures. But Bateman barely notices because if he doesn’t get home by eight o’clock, Kristen Wiig’s sweatpants go on and then he gets no sex.
Kristen Wiig is one of my most favorite people roaming the earth right now. She’s hilarious, and can be dolled up to look gorgeous, or uglied out, to look hideous. It’s this hi-low spectrum of hers that drives me wild, which I think may be the definition of true love.
Bateman’s best friend is played by Academy Award winner Ben Affleck. He does drugs and generally gives Teenwolf Too bad advice. Even if The Pineapple Express hadn’t come out and crushed this character forever, Affleck still would’ve been just another Oscar winner in a bad wig here.
The bit players are just as wasted as the stars. J.K. Simmons a.k.a. Verne Schillinger has one joke the whole movie and it’s not about Juno and the Previa. David Koechner a.k.a. Champ Bailey plays an even more worthless version of the “Don’t Steal My Stapler” guy from Office Space. And yes, he dies at the end—for no reason. And finally Clifton Collins Jr., the upcoming third Boondock Saint, actually gets his testicle cut off in the movie thru a series of “random” occurrences and spends the rest of the movie as the butt of ball jokes.
It’s never explained why they work an extract factory instead of a doorknob factory, or a sweat sock factory, or a goddamn rocking chair factory. The only highlight is Gene Simmons as the dirt bag lawyer and the kid from the new 90210 as the Male Gigolo, Brad Chavez. Otherwise, nothing really happens plot-wise, so very little comes together during the conclusion.
I give this 1 out of 5 Teddy Bears in a tutu, because I’ve never seen another one like it before.
