Boat Trip

When I went to see Boat Trip with a friend recently, I remarked to the ticket seller that we wanted to see the movie that symbolized Cuba Gooding Jr's career going down in flames. His response was that I should have come last year for "that dog movie."

He was right.

The only star-powered movie that I've seen lately that was worse was Pluto Nash.

Didn't Cuba once have a career? On Oscar award winning career? He has a great smile, and, according to my companion for the evening, he has a hell of a body. He's likable and talented. What the hell happened?

BT plays on every straight and gay stereotype imaginable. This in and of itself could lead to a funny script, but instead leads to a bloated, messy, incoherent script with just a handful of honest laughs. The Swedish tanning team inclusion was not a stroke of genius, it was just annoyingly juvenile. The giant sculpted ice penis wasn't brilliant satire, it was just a giant sculpted ice penis. My compatriot and I walked out of the theater in silence.

"What'd you think?" I asked.

"It was," she paused, searching for the right phrase, "a bad movie."

We giggled and said that we should tell everyone we knew that it was great, just so that they would have to endure the badness of it, too. It was the best laugh of the entire evening.