The only enjoyable moments in this mindless paen to wannabe retro hipster hippie shitbags, The Brian Jonestown Massacre and The Dandy Warhols, is watching their self-destruction. Their personal and sad little druggie fuck-up moments of self-annihilation bring a satisfaction I cannot begin to explain.

It's bad enough that one is forced to live in a world where semi-retarded drug addicts would recreate the worst elements of 60's rock music, but to commit their self-worship and congratulatory masturbation to film is, in its own way, a special crime. (Not to mention how it shows how bad people's vocals can be and still be made to sound reasonable within a studio context.)

Junkies producing soulless, dull mope-rock makes for a bad viewing experience, but the real story is in their total lack of understanding of the world around them. Bad music and bad ideas seem to shock them as they take a toll on their collective careers. And marvel at the Jonestown's angsty teen rebellion as they make hippie speeches about the evils of corporate music before breaking into droning sitar tracks and jealously mocking The Dandy's, despite how desperately obvious it is that they want to be them. Anguish with them as they fuck up their career over and over again, only to still have fans, somehow.

I can say that the one upside of the movie is The Dandy's cute little keyboard player, but a cute, drug-choked, retarded chick is hardly cute at all.

This movie is really only for the masochistic sort who loves terrible music and stupid people or sadists who enjoy watching the willfully ignorant suffer. Falling into the second category, I can say that it is satisfying to watch their failures, but it hardly makes up for their pretentious bleeding-dry of the Beatles for the rest of the film.

Never has being so untalented been this glorified by so many cunts.

In Cold Blood, while not being the most stylish movie of its time, delivers a tale that ramps up your interest until its final moment, an abrupt climax to what is not as much of a crime drama as you would imagine.

The movie, at very least, spurs on my urge to read Capote's interpretation of events. What starts off a simple story with less than stellar dialogue quickly begins to piece together an interesting tale of two men on the run, climaxing with the revelation of the crime they committed and the damage that drove them to it. Interspersed are lines that deserve a place in the annals of movie history, smart, sharp and restrained dialogue, throwing down questions that tear at the foundations of our culture and are by no means less pertinent today than they were 40 years ago: Does the media act as a proactive force (or even responsibly) in its dealings with high-profile crime and criminals? Does capital punishment help deter crime or does it add to the list of murders committed senselessly? And does the government do anything to deter the continuation of these circumstances or does it merely persist in the motions of an endless circle?

Most importantly, this movie is a character study. We get glimpses of the Capote-like reporter, the driven but thoughtful state agents, bystanders, and the shadowy ghosts of the murders' families, but the important characterizations hone in on the murderers themselves. And the plot itself is constructed entirely from following these hated and pitiable characters. Robert Blake turns in a truly compelling performance as a very human character, a man haunted by his past, his upbringing, and his family, and unravels slowly under the weight of those traumas, and this film rightly chooses to make him its central character. The movie plays out his past slowly, dealing the final, most important pieces in the puzzle just minutes before the final execution of our characters and its cold, resounding end.

And this climax features all the finest moments of the film, coming together to paint the most excellent imagery, pacing, and characterization of the entire film, heading full speed into the abrupt end. It's the type of movie that feels like a decent journeyman piece of filmmaking until the end, when it seems to mentally transform into a much more powerful movie. And that is one of the signs of a great movie, one that isn't necessarily a brilliant piece of moviemaking skill, but that has you walk away from the movie thinking about everything you've just seen.

This movie is fucking retarded.

Some might expect that or prefer it, but this movie wastes all its comedy on incompetence.

What seems initially to be a movie that knows how to handle American imperialism with irony and a deadpan sense of humor eventually shows its true colors as another one of Trey Parker's projects cursed to spastic incompetence. It could be gleefully dumb if it weren't trying to beat you over the head with its own pseudo-Republican agenda of bashing actors for having political opinions. You know, just like they're doing with pretty much this entire film. But, on the other hand, your average actor actually knows more about politics than Trey Parker does and has more to say than making crass shit jokes while badmouthing smarter people who bother to actually learn things instead of spending all their time pickling their fucktarded brains. Yes, Trey... All actors are "fags" who just "read the paper and then repeat it on air", unlike you, who doesn't bother to read. Pundits that toe the line, study nothing, and care about nothing more than their side's position are trained professionals and actors who have opinions should be mocked and chided for having those opinions and daring to mention them publically. Because anyone who you've heard of before obviously has no right to say anything about their own country's politics... Well, probably just the ones that disagree with you, you snivelling cunt.

Its few moments of comedy consist of the typical "South Park"-ian songs that Trey Parker parodies and crafts so well, as well as the usual use of profanity to humorous effect.

But the heart of this movie is the inane political satire that ham-fistedly misses every reasonable point or logical conclusion to spout their typical brand of half-retarded, juvenile, uneducated moralizing that serves no one but their audience of stupid uneducated douchebag racist 14-year-olds.

Whatever humor there is (and there was humor in there) is pissed all over by their attempts to be clever (which they aren't).

The best thing possible would be for me to set Trey Parker's smug idiotic face on fire and fuck the ashes.

Whatever credit South Park's better times, Cannibal!, Orgazmo, and Baseketball may have earned in their earnest comedic dumbness has been burned the fuck up by this monstrosity of dumbfuck idiocy.

If you enjoy this type of shit, please see to it that you euthanize your ugly children and facefuck yourself with a clip full of bullets.