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Jackass 3D

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Bullshit: Johnny Knoxville gets in, in 3D.


Jackass 3D

Directed by Jeff Tremaine

Opens Oct. 15

"Why am I Steve-O?" This is uttered in a most compelling "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?'-kinda way by, well, Steve-O, the most Jesus-Christly of the Jackass crew of Professional Victims, here with Jason “Wee Man” Acuña, Bam Margera, Spike Jonze, Dave England, Ehren McGhehey, and Preston Lacey, the only castmember listed as “writer,” (the only writer listed), back for yet another virulent hazmat-level load of not underestimating the taste of The American People via displaying novel ways to be hit in the head, knocked down, shot through the air, savaged by domesticated animals, defenestrated by various projectiles, etc., and boy is it stupid, and boy is it senseless, and boy is it, well, regrettably hilarious, how’s that for a movie-ad quotable with some stars next to it? Regrettably Hilarious! (Star-star-star-star.) But seriously, and with a giant novelty-sized asterisk disclaimer, should you buy the ticket and take the ride, some of the Things you may witness—and it is fair to say they are Atrocities—some of these Things could quite possibly inspire profound, irreversible, visceral sympathetic reactions on the part of the queasy of heart, so probably not a date movie, or at the least not a dinner-and-a-movie date movie, OK? Barf-tastic, there’s another quotable. Barf-tastic! (Star-star-star-star-etc.) Think of this not so much as a “review” of this movie and more of a Warning Label. Really, you have been Warned, and furthermore, it needs to be said, for your own mental well-being and self-respect, and not to ruin the plot, spoiler-alertwise, but there is a lot of shit in this movie, as in doo-doo, feces, in, on, around, and coming out of various Jackasses. Poo. Thankfully the Third Dimension of the 3D in this state-of-the-art 3D presentation is not smell, holy fucking shit, just, seriously, urrgh! If you care about the visual innovations, the most effective movie-tech gimmick is definitely not the 3D, it’s the super-de-duper slow-slow-sloooooow-motion photography, which allows the viewer to study the various ripples and contortions human flesh undergoes as it is sacrificed for cheap laughs. It’s totally fucking cool. When it’s not happening to you. Also, this film, hands-down the most homoerotic of all the Jackasses, owing largely to the abundance of general nudity, jockstrap, and thong costumes sported by the all-male cast, and the curiously male-stripper-ripped new and improved body of Head Jackass Johnny Knoxville, escalates the ever-increasing level of penis use in U.S. Cinema, with many displays of the mens department of American Genitalia employed in the cause of comedy. Anyway, back to poor Steve-O, in his Existential Moment, stripped down to a jockstrap, about to be struck with great velocity, and with his full knowledge and consent, directly in the groinal area by a batted tee-ball. Somebody has to be Steve-O. Be glad it’s not you.

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