Gods of Egypt
What could you do with $140,000,000, the budget of the godawful Gods of Egypt?
You could buy 280,000,000 50-cent tacos. You could pay off 933 $150,000 mortgages. You could give 28,000 people $5,000 each. You could throw a Leaning Tower of Pisa pizza party for a couple thousand of your closest friends. And even if you've never even seen a movie - let alone written, directed or starred in one - you could make a better film than the $140M bucket of camel cum that is Gods of Egypt.
No fucking joke, either. I'm as serious as Geoffrey "In No" Rush's grey-braided, oft-flaming Ra as he hand-cranks his magic space boat through the sky and nightly fights Apophis, an enormous, smoky worm monster bent on spreading chaos throughout the universe. Which, believe it or don't, is one of the only parts of Gods of Egypt that actually gets at least a little bit of Egyptian mythology right.
Meanwhile, far away from Space Station Ra, bad-and-for-some-fucking-reason-Scottish god Set (Gerard "The Hunky Haggis" Butler) has taken over Egypt from its rightful ruler, allegedly-good-but-really-kind-of-a-whiny-prick god Horus (Nikolaj Coster-"Where's" Waldau). Horus teams up with a human thief, Bek (Brenton "Two Stone Tablets And A Microphone" Thwaites), making most of Gods of Egypt a 1980s-style mismatched buddy action-comedy . . . minus any heart-pounding action or knee-slapping laughs.
My pyramid-studded kingdom for some Nolte-Murphy goodness!
Speaking of Murphy, this cinematic shit stainincontrovertibly proves Murphy's Law. Everything that could go wrong did and in giant scarab-sized ways. The CGI, which fills most every scene, looks more fake than Pam Anderson's tits. The rest of the "special" effects, especially some basic green screen shots, couldn't be more fucked if they were porn stars. It sets up a Leonidas vs. Lannister death match, but all Butler can do is bellow and pose, and Coster-Waldau comes off like a wimpy bitch.
Oh, and virtually every actor is lily, wedding dress, Hitler-approved White. Because nothing says "Ancient Egypt" like a bunch of honkies prancing around with swords and sandals and vaguely British accents. They should have called it 50 Shades of Beige.
Gods of Egypt is sand in your panties bad. You know, when it gets all up in every crease and crevice, and you're hours from a shower, so you just have to sit and itch in genital misery wishing you'd told your boyfriend you fucking hate the beach instead of smiling and going along with him and his idiot friends with their stupid board shorts and cheap, warm-ass beer.
And no, it's abso-fucking-lutely not "so bad it's good." If anyone tells you that, back away from them slowly and go find help because they're dangerously unstable or, at least, have worse taste than week-old ceviche.