I’d like to go on the record and state that this movie sucks. I try so very hard to defend things – usually things that can’t defend themselves – mostly people though, not movies but I guess but this is a movie blog so we’ll stick to that. There’s a piece of my heart I have saved on this place for movies that are abhorrent, disgusting, vile, I’d-rather work-in-New-Jersey-again heinous that I will call Most Unclean but I don’t feel like watching those types of things any more. A long time ago I was basically stuck in a box with no windows for nine hours a day and would have to take my chances on something and see what happened. Note – this was around seven or eight years ago before the modern conveniences and technologies we have now – back when you couldn’t stream at work so you had to download something ahead of time or had to handle a physical DVD from Netflix and you were stuck in that fucking box in a job that you had grown to hate but you’re not the kind of person who leaves their station early or does truancy or loiters outside with thugs and vagrants milking the clock even though you’re salary and could totally do all of that but you’re still fucking loyal to the job that got you out of that fucking 90 hour a week kitchen twenty years earlier so you don’t. Things like American Maniacs or Dear God NO! or this movie about this guy who rapes and kills some girl so the dad kidnaps the guy, turns him into a woman and then rapes and kills him. I forget the name of that bucket of shit but, I think you get the deal. While this isn’t that bad, it sho isn’t any good.

In fact – this thing is so boring and stupid I’m going to have to get creative to try and put some words together about it. I know this is my thing and I have positioned myself to have no deadlines or word counts or – in fact – shit obligations but The OCD demands at least something. In fact number 2 – this movie is so boring and stupid that I can only find the ONE picture from this movie out there for the taking and it’s above. That’s Jane there, on the left.

Here I’ll take a second and make a fart a note. On this beautiful site is a tab called The Team. I have always wanted to have a site where more than one person (that would be = myself) wrote things on it but that’s never really come to fruition. Aside from my Shame, there is one Beloved person who ponied up her brains to write for this place, although she never has despite her beautiful intentions and her thoughts are currently sitting in the drafts section. That’s no big deal at all to me (see the references earlier to no obligations or deadlines) so my eternal and goddammed point to all of that shit is that, if anyone else ever wanted to write here – I have this one rule – no making fun of people (see below: ¹) or hurting animals (is that two?) Unless you want to make fun of the Greeks or the French, they’re fair game. And you’re allowed to use the word ‘cocksucker’ as liberally as possible because of: Deadwood.

With ALL of that out of the way and if we can forget about the INCREDIBLE douchebag cocksucker wearing socks and flip flops or even – if your mind is wandering – the décolletage on the bottom right, let’s see if we can figure out what happened here.

Hey look! With this fancy design software I pay so dearly for and never use, I made Jane’s picture look like an old photograph! Ah man! It’s like good memories!! But they’re really not – don’t be confused by my crafty mind manipulation abilities.

I suppose, maybe, this sounded up my alley: “See Jane Run is a horror film from jenkev productions, Inc. about psychological instability, religion, suburbia and good old Texas BBQs. In the same vein as classic horror movies from the 1970s, this film begins with four teenagers picking up a hitchhiker. When the advice from a local auto mechanic turns deadly, the travelers find themselves trapped in a warped version of the American dream from which only a disturbed mind can escape.” K – sounds good. To start, four teenagers (uh…. not – I would be very surprised if these people were still in their twenties) are lost on some highway in Texas, delivering their lines very awkwardly, like they had all forgotten them and were waiting for cues, one of which is Jane – who stares and stares and stares and stares and stares and stares and stares – she’s the, um, “quiet one”. Obviously there’s three other forgettable cast members in that car and then there’s the fifth – a guy they pick up off the road who isn’t even actually hitchhiking and doesn’t even want a ride, but he takes it anyway and they end up at a garage run by your typical garage-running-imbecile.

im·be·cile/ˈimbəsəl/ noun INFORMAL: a stupid person.

¹ I don’t really understand how the people that made this movie were trying to portray Jane. Is she supposed to just be…. dumb?

Spoilers – if you care:

As it turns, the imbecile at the garage can’t get the car part until tomorrow, blah, blah, blah and he sends them to his cousin’s restaurant for some BBQ. The restaurant is a very nice looking house, the BBQ is human meat and everyone gets killed – rendered by the some of the worst CGI I think I have ever seen in my life and I am not just saying that glibly – it’s really, really fake. Well, not everyone gets killed, Jane doesn’t, see. She gets out of that miserable place, see. But she doesn’t run at any time. She sits and stares, walks and stares, stands around staring, stares at two people doing it on the kitchen floor, gets tied up and stares and then moans endlessly as her friend gets burned to death with a clothes iron to the face. No running. The viewer will not at all, once, ever See Jane Run. Oh yeah – the end of the logline / description, “from which only a disturbed mind can escape“: Jane escapes by kneeing the guy in the balls a few times and walks calmly out the door.

I have nothing against anyone involved in this moving picture (except for maybe the guy in the socks) but I don’t get it. No running. No screaming. No emotion. No eye acting. Not even any lip acting, really. Just some staring and then some ball kneeing. I could probably just re-create that in ten minutes if I ever ran into Michi in life. Although I wouldn’t be trying to BBQ anyone. Something to the effect of: “It is Film Miasma?” “Yes.” Pauses, gives a stare. Knees to the balls. Note the plural there, one knee probably wouldn’t be sufficient from Michi’s perspective. “Here’s one. Here’s two. Here’s one for mentioning me in your fucking post.”

I don’t know what else to do here, I want to say they tried but I’m not really so sure about that and we’re all about honesty here. And quality writing ².

² Film Miasma’s readers give constant and collective knees to his balls after that last sentence.

Filed under: CRAP.