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   The funniest, nastiest movie reviews anywhere.

La La Land

Rodgers and Hammerstein are dead.  Fosse's fucked his last chorus girl.  Gershwin's a ghost.  Berlin's not seeing any more Xmases, white or otherwise.  Yet musicals, the Tinactin-resistant athlete's foot of theatre, continue to thrive on Broadway - and worse - in Hollywood.

NYC got all "What what?!" with Hamilton, so in the 1,076th round of anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better, LA clapped back with La La Land, an old-school BHM.  That's "Big Hollywood Musical."  Or "Big Hairy Man-pussy."

Speaking of which, do you think the reason gay guys can't get enough anal or musicals is because they're both huge pains in the ass, and that's just what gay guys are into?

Anyhoo, La La Land is an all-singing, all-dancing, glitter-shit daydream about Sebastian ("Lyin'" Ryan Gosling), a six-foot pianist who wants to save jazz by opening a jazz club, and Mia (Emma Stone "Cold Fox"), a barista who wants to be a movie star.  Gosling and Stone are two of the most talented, magnet-to-metal attractive, supremely fuckable actors working today.  Gee, do you think Seb and Mia will be attracted to each other and - between Griffith Observatory floating dance numbers - fuck?

You can bet Bing Crosby's wife-beater they will.

When it's not shoving its hothouse love story down our throats, La La Land transforms into a giant load of Tony Robbins-meets-Hallmark, "You can do it!" santorum.  Which it also shoves down our throats like it's force-feeding a terrorist at Gitmo.

Follow your dreams?  Fall hopelessly in love?  Sing and dance with reckless abandon?  What am I, a 12-year-old, queer unicorn?

Shiny and sparkly as that might be, it's not how the real world works.  Take a look around, La La Land.  One fucking look!

Those people you see - the parents, friends, aunts, uncles, co-workers and strangers on the street - aren't living their dreams.  They're gritting their teeth and paying their bills.  They're not crazy in love.  The ones who aren't alone and lonely are lying and cheating and hating each other a little more every day over petty shit like how the dishwasher gets loaded.  They're sure as carnies at a county fair not singing and dancing their way to jobs they dread that pay just enough to get by - or as often as not . . . not.

Most of the battered, pitiful wrecks are a bad haircut or speeding ticket away from slit wrists and suicide notes.

Fuck you, La La Land, you Pollyanna-ass motherfucker!  And your inevitable Xmas-themed sequel, Fa La La La Land!

April 28, 2017 - New video release review rather than new theatrical release review because dare to fucking dream.