Truth or Dare (2018)

Truth or Dare

(2018)

 

The young actors of today are so ghastly; uninteresting; boring, tedious. They know nothing about their culture; they know nothing about the great legends of the past…”

So says the playwright-actor Steven Berkoff, obviously holding his words in check.  But watch this clip to see what else was bugging him:

 

 

Bejeezus, only for he said all of that three years ago I would have thought that he was talking about the talentless gang of cretins in director Jeff Wadlow’s Truth or Dare.  I’m not going to even list the endless amount of writers involved in this.  If I were them I would have taken my name off the whole witless piece.

Sweet June’s ass, will there be a worse film made this year?  I hope not.  Really, really hope not. 

Now, I’m as much up for a brain-numbing kill-the-annoying-young-people film as the next guy.  I LOVE that stuff.  Heck, I love the Friday the 13th franchise, which will tell you how low my standards are.  I find it very…oh, cathartic.     (Which I probably shouldn’t put down in print as I’ll probably end up on a list somewhere. It’s all right, officers, I’ll come quietly.)  There’s a kind of comfort in knowing how the story will go – especially when that story involves demon- cursed college kids being killed off in interesting ways.

But this piece of trash….this one takes the cake and the biscuit.

It starts off with a group of morons having their end-of-school party down Mexico-way. The kind who it will probably be my torment to spend all of eternity in Hell with.   And, needless to say, they are also the kind of unreconstructed plonkers who think that visiting Mexico consists of hanging out in tourist bars with other tourist knob heads who have the real Mexicans laughing their tits off at you.

Our heroes, in other words, are total dipshits who think that being in Cancun gives them the right to say that they were in Mexico.

They are the American equivalent of  the British and Irish twats who go to tourist Spain, get blind drunk and sing a few verses of ‘Olé, Olé, Olé’, annoying the heck out of normal human beings and then come back boasting about how great Spain was because they had so many shots that they can’t even remember being there.

Well, substitute Spain for Mexico and that’s the bunch we’re supposed to care about here.  Me, I was off the go rooting for the demon.

And that’s it, really: it makes no sense on any level except that a bunch of morons visit Mexico, get a curse on their stupid heads and die. Even the Joker grin that made it look interesting in the trailer gets really old, really fast.

The worst film of the year….so far.

The End.  I hope.  No sequels, please.

Author: Charley Brady

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