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Don't be fooled by the billboard. This is a movie meant for elderly Caucasians who are tired of violence and cussing in movies, and it sucks anyway.

Director George Clooney has proven he can direct with "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind" and "Good Night and Good Luck," and now he's proven that he has no problem being a Hollywood douchebag that would make a piece of shit movie like this one for his own amusement.

I saw this goddam thing for free and I still want my money back. You, on the other hand, will want more than imaginary money, you'll want the real thing, which is ten times more frustrating when the time comes. The worst part of this mess is that even though the flick's goal is to be an obnoxiously cutesy piece of apple pie that recalls a time where guys could slug it out all night and not suffer so much as a nosebleed, black people were perfectly fine and cheery about their sing-songy position in America, and running from the cops after knocking their comrades unconscious and stealing their uniforms was a wacky romantic moment accompanied by Chaplin-esque silent film music, it doesn't even accomplish that goal.

It just looks like a couple of Hollywood douchebags (played here by Clooney and... no, God, please, no... Renee Zellwegewhateverthefuck, who still won't just die of a goddam cocaine overdose and spare us anymore of her crap) having fun.

While the zippy-fun-witty-clean dialogue is something Clooney has the charm to pull off as an actor, Zellweguagrgh has failed before at this with crap like "Down With Love" (phuck you, I got dragged into the theater by my then-girlfriend and still walked out after five minutes, stop calling me gay), recites her sassy little lines like some high school drama class retard who won a contest and got to star in a movie with George Clooney.

Even if you walk into this thing in such a good mood that you could take two hours (TWO HOURS, and holy shit was this thing pleading to be 90 minutes) of this kind of silly-billy bullshit, you'd still be pissed off at how much they failed in their delivery of it. If you want some old fashioned cutesy romance, rent "Breakfast at Tiffany's" or some other Audrey Hepburn flick and pretend you just paid an hour's wages on the dvd rental, that way you can save your real money, not have to go to the theater, and never have to suffer this nonsense.
 
The plot? Oh yeah, I guess they kind of had some bullshit series of events in there that I was supposed to give a bloated rat's ass about. John Krasinzki (I'd care if I spelled that right if I were reviewing one of his "The Office" episodes, but I don't care right now) is a high school football hero back in 1925. He goes off to The Great War (yes, World War 1) and becomes a war hero. Meanwhile in America, Clooney's professional football team gets the axe, so it looks like there will be no pro football in the US of A until he recruits John the American hero to play football and make it popular.

Zellwhuahuaaaguaa is a sassy reporter who's 31 and yet looks like a 45-year-old coke whore in a 20's chick costume that I'm sure she had lots of fun wearing (you can actually HEAR her Hollywood douchebag interview for "Access Hollywood" as you watch this thing, a lot of it sounding like "It was so fun! George is such a hoot to work with! He picked out this hat with this giant feather in it for me to wear in my first scene at the last minute, and we just went with it and then people started improving lines about how silly the hat looked and we just kept that take! Yeah! It's the one you see in the movie!! And I got to actually ride a motorcycle, one of those old ones from the 20's, and, oh, it was great! Where's my coke?").

Her job is to expose the truth behind the rumor that John isn't really a war hero, just a looker who got undeserved publicity. If this were something the movie inspired us to give a shit about in any way, maybe they could've gone somewhere with it, but it doesn't, and they go so far that you're begging every character to commit suicide after an hour just so this dumbass crap can end.

John likes Zealwuuaah, Clooney does too, Zeualfdhoighvnkvnuirtnboi flirts with John and uses him for her story but likes Clooney, so we have to be glad that a shitty and self-serving character played by a horrific and scary-faced actress ends up with the guy who's more famous in real life than the guy who's still only a TV actor. Oh, wait, did I spoil it? Oops. Well, don't worry, it's meant to be one of those deals where you know what happens in the end from the very beginning, and that's the only part of the deal that gets dished out, so don't feel cheated yet.

Phuck this movie. You're a scumbag if you see it after reading this, I've warned you, and you should just kill yourself if you go see it and then like it, because that doesn't mean you like cute movies, it means that you wanna be the next Rene Zellefjrithujgdfionisoujk and make a living off taking people's money for playing make-believe with neat costumes. Go to hell.
 
(one bong to smash over Renerji9jofglhaotihjvkmug's head)

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