I recently reviewed the latest Romero zombie pick a bit higher than most, which is to be expected of me, as I am a raging DEAD fanboy. So that didn’t worry me much.
This weekend however, I saw a movie called THE AMATEURS which I thought was cute and funny, and—were I not a lazy ass—would probably give the film a four star (”Great”) review. (But since I hate reviewing comedies, you can forget about that.)
Then I go to Netflix’s page for the film, and notice that the professional critic reviews are terrible. Richard Roeper couldn’t even spare the slightest fraction of a star. (I’d love to know what he said about it, but all of E&R’s reviews are online in video format, complete with commercials. No thanks.) What’s worse, I go to Rotten Tomatoes, and nearly everyone there trashed it.
14%? Really? It’s not quite into Uwe Boll rating territory, but it’s pretty freaking close!
OK, so THE AMATEURS didn’t move mountains or change my life, but I thought it was really funny. I didn’t know I’d be putting myself so far out on a limb saying so.