The Million Dollar Jerk

Hi, I’m The Jerk.

You might remember me from that time the League of Outraged Catholic Ladies had me censored for saying …


Um, no. Look, all I said was K-Lo is kinda …

Fine. I get the gist.

Well, the outraged ladies have won, as Simcha has told me that I’m not allowed to do this movie review without an in-blog editor checking it to make sure I’m not being too offensive. Anyway, here he is, “Dr.” Johnboy Zmirak:

Hehuh, hehuh, You wanna hear about how not voting for Romney is like …. You know … hehuh hehuh hehuh

Actually, I’d hate to. But speaking of onanism, here’s this week’s movie:

You know how you can tell a movie is good? I mean really really good? Well, finding it for sale in the discount bin at the gas station where I buy my beer is a surefire tip this one’s a winner.

hehuh hehuh hehuh, Wanna know where I buy my movies? hehuh hehuh hehuh


This movie has it all:  stupid characters with pointless quirks, a story that starts slow and stays slow, Bono singing Lou Reed songs on the soundtrack, and some rank antisemitism.

You forgot to mention me.

Yup, Mel Gibson stars in this movie as a FBI agent with a secret past. That past? He grew up as a circus freak with either an arm or a Jew growing out of his back. The movie is never really clear about Mel’s deformity, but it is clear in its feelings about the Joooooooos.

Hey, don’t you think Mel Gibson jokes are a little cheap?

Good point Johnny, but you should zip up now.

Hehuh hehuh hehuh.

Lookit, Gibson is a tragedy of booze, crazy, bad decisions, and more crazy. This guy is seriously talented: a leading man who can act, a unique storyteller, and a hell of a director. But you can see, in this pre-“sugar-tits” incident movie, the seeds of his destruction are there …

You said SEED hehuh hehuh hehuh.

ANYWAY, Mel’s character is hired by a Jewish media mogul to find out who killed his son, Israel, a junkie poet living at the Million Dollar Hotel.  Spoiler – Israel is the movie’s real villain who sets off tragedy and quirks by raping the heroine. The mogul explains he and “his people” control the world, so Gibbo had better do a good job and find the killer.

What’s wrong with that?

Ugh. Look, if Jews really ran the media do you think that Simcha would put up with me?

Is it really all Mel’s fault, though? No. It is not. This stink burger was directed by Wim Wenders, the guy who made that movie about angels and crap.

And the lady acrobat who wore a leotard hehuh hehuh hehuh

Yeah. And let’s not forget the writer, one Paul David Hewson, also known as Bono.


No, I said Bono.

I’m pretty sure I heard boner.

I bet you did.

The movie’s hero is Tom Tom, played by some guy. Does it really matter?  Really?

I was hoping you’d kinda forget I was in this.

Oh, don’t worry, you were plenty forgettable.

Tom Tom is what you call “movie special needs.” You never really know what his deal is, but he’s got one. I think he has Independent Movie Quirk Syndrome. It was first discovered by Johnny Depp in the 1990s, but scientists have yet to find a cure.

I keep my farts in a bag.

IMQS seems to afflict everyone in this movie, from the guy who thinks he was a Beatle, to the hooker with a heart of gold plating played by  indy movie queen Amanda “Honey Bunny” Plummer, to even Jimmy Smits as a native American painter who paints with tar. Yes. Tar. Jimmy, why?

Hey, you never complained when you saw my ass in NYPD Blue.

Not an argument, Jimmy. Not an argument.

I was always a big Dennis Franz fan myself. Hehuh hehuh hehuh.

Of course this movie features Milla Jovovich as the fragile and broken heroine, because the producers couldn’t afford Winona Ryder.

And because I make my own costumes out of newspaper and spit paste.

She plays crazy/quirky about as well as ….

WAIT! She was in that one movie, with the aliens, and she wore those white band-aid things AND YOU COULD SEE hehuh hehuh hehuh EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE I think I’m getting a new idea about politics!

Damnit John, you’re ruining my review and all the hand towels. I watched this whole dumb movie, and I don’t even get to write the review without your nonsense.

Well, until next time, amigos.

So, wanna hang out later? I promise not to try and squeeze your balls.
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