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Oxford Murders

I had not read this very clever and scorching review of The Oxford Murders before watching the movie. The movie is for times when you want to be mentally lazy. This is a movie to doze off, catch up on sleep. If you wake up intermittently (as I did) you will still follow the plot-line. I believe there is a customer need for such cinematic fare as long as people manage their expectations appropriately. But the author of this review was stirred at a much deeper level:

Perhaps if I were to say that the film is utterly pathetic vapid awkward boring pig-ignorant pretentious ridiculous patronizing slop, it might stir in you some dim inkling of the depth of uselessness of this toxic piece of cinematographic excrement. But that would be understatement, and I hate to understate. This movie has a badness value that cries out for new numbers to be invented. Ten on a scale of ten is nowhere near enough.


Reading his diatribe was way more entertaining than watching the movie itself plus I was glad to have discovered a fun blog that I will return to. The best reviews are written when the body and soul of the person responds to what they were subjected to:

I was developing a very bad feeling about our whole movie outing, within about ten minutes of the opening credits — that strange phenomenon when your body knows something awful is happening before your brain figures it out.
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