Go, Team Scorpion

“Clash of the Titans” is delightful. Delightfully bad. Having recently suffered through the critically acclaimed, but mind-rapingly dull, “No Country for Old Men,” husband-critter and I decided to dip into the shallower side of the cinematic gene pool. Clash of the Titans is the perfect vehicle for some major Mystery Science Theater 3000 style snarking.  Oh, boy. We haven’t had this much fun since the equally vile “10,000 BC.”

It’s like a story recited by your eight-year-old nephew. One event leading to another with no apparent connection, told to you in a breathless rush. It doesn’t make a lick of sense.

Other than the trailer, shown before this newer, more CG-y version of the tale, I’ve never seen the original version of Clash. But this is hardly an improvement. It fiddles with the story from original–Andromeda isn’t Perseus’ love interest this time around–and replaces a wooden Harry Hamlin with a buff, and apparently bored Sam Worthington (who seems to be wishing he’d found something else to do while waiting to shoot the sequel to Avatar).

The absence of a love story with Andromeda, in this case, is a good thing. Andromeda is a saccharin, old-time Disney Princess. She suffers, suffers, I tell you, for the plight of the poor, and feeds bread to starving children. (I dunno. Maybe it was enriched, Wonder Bread?) I’m surprised the filmmakers didn’t throw in cute little bunnies and other woodland animals to gaze at her adoringly. Anyway, she’s a dud.

Liam Neeson, as Zeus, is shiny like a lightbulb, and oozes misery (or maybe he’s just plotting the murder of his agent). Ralph Fiennes as Hades seems to be suffering from a Botox overdose, as he never moves his mouth while speaking. The rest of the cast is so unmemorable, I can’t even remember their names.

Mostly, the film is guilty of larceny. While watching, phrases like, “‘300’ called; they want their wardrobe back” and “Lookee, it’s the Scorpion King!” come to mind.  (Unlike “300,” Clash of the Titans suffers from a profound lack of man candy. It’s like casting went out of their way to find homely men. And wardrobe/makeup worked their butts off making the few good looking chaps hideous.)

And yeah, I was rooting for the giant scorpions.

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