resident evil: afterlife
Sometimes you feel like a popcorn movie, and sometimes you don't. Of course sometimes you do, and you just don't even get that.
Resident Evil: Afterlife is, if such a thing exists a waste of popcorn, as well as a waste of admission. The movie, if I can call such a thing even that, is the horror rendition of the sequel to Charlie's Angels. By this I mean it makes little sense, and is chalk full of Ali Larter and Mila what's-her-name making super model faces and killing things. Not that this franchise will ever win any gold statues, but it seems to be getting dumber. Here's a thought: if your core audience is too stupid and shallow to watch a movie for anything other than the questionable hotness of the cast, then this movie should not be made.
“...There are so many ways of being despicable it quite makes one's head spin. But the way to be really despicable is to be contemptuous of other people's pain. You ought to have some apprehension that the man you see before you was once even younger than you are now and arrived at his present wretchedness by imperceptible degrees.”