Passion of the Christ, II
by Dr. Science


"The box was shaped like this"
“Hellboy”, a logical sequel to Mel Gibson’s grotesque, passionately anti-semitic epic, “Passion of the Christ”, was released a couple of weeks ago and scored big in the box office. How did America, a country founded on the false pretense of piety all of a sudden reveal itself to be not just a God fearing nation, but also a satan loving one? Undoubtedly, Mel Gibson played a major role. Since the entirety of America has been smoking Lucifer’s farts and subsequently giving Hellboy a positive review, it’s time for an unbiased review of this cinematic turd.

Who is Hellboy? As a matter of fact, he’s a poorly thought out character created by bitter comic book nerds who’s life is lived vicariously through caricatures of improbably muscular men who have inherited “superpowers” through completely unrealistic means. These nerds conceived Hellboy as being born when Hitler tried to open a portal to hell, and a paranormal expert from the United States finds him when the experiment is foiled. Now Hellboy lives in anonymity thanks to the U.S. government who enslaves him in the fight against demons. This is the most believable aspect of Hellboy – as there defiantly would be no hesitation on the part of the American government to employ a demon.

Oh! So that's why Jesus was crucified.
What else do comic book nerds need? Obviously, they also need a female superhero – that way before they go to bed they can fantasize about unrealistic people having unrealistic sex. Forget foreplay, these nerds think sex involves tentacles, forcefields, and men in futuristic wheelchairs. In reality, people in futuristic wheelchairs do not get laid. Look at Stephen Hawking, who truly has a pimp wheelchair – he doesn’t get laid – the only way the pervert is capable of getting a boner is by musing on a phenomena he dubbed as the Big Bang. However, no obligatory love story would complete with out horrendeous dialogue, incongruent plot events, mechanical villains, and millions of dollars of product placement. The product placement is so horrendously obvious it renders Jesus’ crucifiction subtle. Let me have the pleasure of ruining the movie for you in this account of poor cinema making: imagine in the midst of a heated climax (some guy posing in front a green screen effectively) it breaks to an extraneous character who delivers the best written line in the movie (caution, movie spoiler ahead) – “Does anyone have a Power Bar?”. Well I sure don’t, since I’m a robot and would rather steal your Civic’s gasoline, but I have a hunch the the acne-scarred nerd humans just might.