Across the Universe Is a Bad Movie: A Review

I just wasted ten dollars, and I want it back.

If you couldn't tell by the title of this blog, or by the subtle-as-a-baseball-bat-with-nails-in-it opening line, I do not find Across the Universe (or "Across the Universe" or Across the Universe or however the balls a movie is supposed to be referenced in text form) to be worth a ten dollar admission fee. Or a *free* admission fee, for that matter. In fact, if I discover that any of you have spent any amount of money to have this pathetic excuse for a film forcibly eye-rape you, I reserve every right to perforate your upper and lower torso with whatever rusty objects happen to be nearby. In order to keep my brain running at a level that came *close* to knowing what the hell was going on, I had to divert energy from my right foot. This movie sucks so hard, it put my foot to sleep.

Alright, now that that's out of the system, let's get specific. Spoiler Alert; I don't give a damn about revealing whatever I need to in order to prevent another catastrophe like the one I just experienced.

First: The plot. Or lack thereof.
This is what I pieced together from my torture in the theatre: An English guy (Jude) takes a boat to the States to meet his father, an ex-marine who, while on leave in Liverpool, impregnated Jude's mom, either with or, more likely, without consent. After meeting his father, he meets some guy (Max) and, inexplicably, gets really drunk and decides to stay in America a while longer. Like, forever (side note: His plan is later ruined when he is kicked out of the country). It could have something to do with Max's hot sister (Lucy). What ensues is a strange, disjointed tale of love, loss, war, revolution, singing, drugs, and weird circus-mutants doing the splits. I'm being told that, in order to appreciate this movie, one needs to have an appreciation for the Beatles. That's one possible explanation, one with a surprising amount of merit. Another is that Across the Universe is a shitty movie.

Second: The characters.
At best, the characters in Across the Universe are annoying. Except for Lucy; she at least has her hottie status going for her (she's still annoying, mind you). At worst, the characters in Across the Universe are annoying/stupid/inane/fucking crazy enough to drive me to murder. Characters are introduced, then killed literally minutes later. This is probably supposed to convey some sort of message, but it was lost in translation. The translation to movie, from steaming pile o' shit.
Oh, and a bunch of the characters are hippies.

Third: The singing.
I'm not going to say that the singing itself in the movie was bad; far from it. The quality of the characters' voices is probably the movie's strongest point. Unfortunately, no matter how well the cast can sing, it doesn't change how atrocious the lyrics are, in some cases. Yes, I realize that a majority of the retarded lyrics come from Beatles songs, so I might be treading on the toes of many a fanboy out there, but come on. It doesn't matter how successful the Beatles were. Success doesn't make the words "I am the walrus, coo-coo ka-choo" make any more fucking sense. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN. For any of you that have not seen the movie in question, and are not fans of the Beatles, a character in the movie *does* actually sing this. With a straight face, and perfect confidence in how much (little) sense he is making. It's right before the gang gets off the psychedelic bus and meanders through a field home to all sorts of crazy carnival creatures. Tall blue dudes and shorter, tan-coloured dancing freaks abound. Oh, and they meet up with one of their friends (Prudence) who mysteriously disappeared, and just happened to show up in a place THREE THOUSAND MILES from where they were, and join the circus. The group is then magically transported back to New York, their place of origin.

Finally: The utter impracticality of it all.
About that Prudence chick: While the then-Prudence-free gang is hanging out in their apartment/condo/loft/whatever, Prudence comes in from the rain by CLIMBING THROUGH THE BATHROOM WINDOW, without being shot, stabbed, or otherwise murdered by the people living there. In NEW YORK, for Christ sake. She doesn't even get yelled at. Or, for that matter, questioned as to why the flying fuck she just clambered in through the window unannounced. These are things I would like to know, if a stranger decided to come in through my window, and then drip water on my floor. Jude, ever the gentleman, grabs Prude a towel. Take notes, kids: If a stranger climbs in through the window, don't ask why; just grab them a towel (substitute sandwich for towel if it's not raining).
Also, people sing while playing basketball. NO ONE sings while playing basketball. It's impossible, it's impractical, it's stupid. It's bad enough that we have to suffer through these amazing coincidences, but at least TRY to maintain some level of believability, eh?

In closing: Don't see this movie. Or rather, don't see this movie sober in any way. If you *must* go submit yourself to this atrocity, first grab twenty thousand dollars. Spend said twenty g's on assorted drugs. Place said drugs in a blender. Place said super drug-tonic in a syringe. Shoot up, and enjoy.
Alternately, mix ice in the blender with your drugs to make a flavourful beverage named "Overdosuccino".
Or, you know, you could just not go see the movie.