A large Tyrannosaurus Rex might be be able to smash a cheaply-made bedroom door by shattering the door frame, but a big bear wouldn’t be able to do that…sorry. So right away the credibility is out the window. Plus the CG stinks. If only Werner Herzog had written and directed this…seriously.
Cocaine Bear (Universal, 2.23) stands ready to fling damp fecal matter upon our cinematic temple and lower the levels of cultural discourse. It’s the new Snakes on a Plane, and that piece of cheap exploitation blew chunks to begin with.
The tone, obviously, is one of absurdist action humor of the lowest possible order.
There’s clearly no opportunity to buy into the fantasy — every shot in this trailer says “don’t believe this crap!…are you a moron because only stoned morons would derive the slightest enjoyment from a film this idiotic and ludicrous. I mean, it’s not even good enough to be called perverse.”
Universal Pictures, director Elizabeth Banks and screenwriter Jimmy Warden aren’t the core problem here. They’re just looking to make a buck and pay the bills. The skeevy, scurvy, bottom-of-the-barrel chumps out there in megaplexland who find this live action-meets-Wile E. Coyote-type humor funny or even slightly amusing…they’re the problem.
An actual Georgia-residing bear (a guiltless creature of basic instinct and no ulterior motives) died of self-ingested cocaine poisoning in 1985, and 37 years later a movie company has made a dark comedy out of this…A COMEDY!! If this isn’t a searing indictment of a thoroughly rancid and morally corrupted lower-middle-class culture, I don’t know what could be.
You know who’s going to like this film and tweet about it endlessly? Trumpies!
I’ve changed my mind — Banks and Warden need to answer for this. After Cocaine Bear is released and streaming to great profitability, they’ll need to check themselves into a moral rehab facility.