Reviewing San Andreas Without Having Seen It

You can see how simple mankind is based upon what we spend the most time viewing. We like to watch things blow up and we like to watch people fuck. In fact, the first footage ever filmed was of a guy plowing a broad over the hood of a Model T until it exploded in a fiery ball of anti-Semitic assembly line efficiency*. As the decades have progressed since that first fateful fireball, mankind has crapped out countless entries in the disaster porn arena, from The Poseidon Adventure to Independence Day to Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (zing!). Much like real porn, you begin viewing disaster flicks brimming with adrenaline yet, as soon as the film ends, can remember nothing about them, frantically searching for a wastebasket in which to discard your metaphorical cummy tissues as you reevaluate everything in your life that led you to this moment. The latest in this proud tradition is San Andreas. And it’s going to suck.

There are a bunch of problems with SA (that’s what we people who are too lazy to type out San Andreas call the film. First of all, I can’t hear the title and not think of this (a strong entry in the embarrassingly long “cartoons I would love to have sex with” list). There’s also the fact that the film stars The Rock. I like the guy, but I’ve seen hungry pound puppies that don’t work as hard to be loved by an audience. And let’s be frank: Is anyone going to feel that much sympathy for Californians enduring a hellish earthquake? I mean, they’ve had over a century’s worth of warning to depart their sunny Sodom. If every ten years or so they made another boat called Titanic and it invariably sank, by Titanic IV, people would probably think that, if you got on that boat, you damn well deserved what was coming.

Not all is a loss, however: The movie does feature Carla Gugino, Alexandra Daddario and their fantastically fat dago tits. Unfortunately, with a PG-13 rating, the same earthquake that possesses the power to level half of California won’t be able to pop a nipple out of either of these ladies’ bras, but maybe they’ll throw us a bone via a swimsuit scene that I’d be into if I were five.

Avoid San Andreas like the plague and instead see Mad Max: Fury Road multiple times. Huge explosions and frenetic action don’t have to come at the cost of your self-respect. This isn’t a presidential election: There’s actually a good choice to make.

*-I made this up.

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Tagged as: Movie Review.