Geostorm (2017) Movie Review

By: Felix Felicis (Five Beers) –
I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know when it happened. But somehow Gerard Butler became the Tom Cruise of terrible action movies. I mean, Tom Cruise isn’t even really Tom Cruise anymore because, much like a Kardashian or 1980’s Jennifer Grey, he’s had a *little work done on his face (*A lot of work. Like all of the work). But get moderately drunk and snort a line of San Andreas, Day After Tomorrow, 2012, ArmageddonJack Ryan: Shadow Recruit, and Happy Feet. Congrats. You’ve saved yourself ten dollars and a hangover from the last of your dignity dying. And I’m not saying there aren’t AMAZING(ly) bad Gerard Butler movies out there so terrible they inspire awe(some hilarity). Please see for reference: Gods of Egypt. By all objective standards, Gods of Egypt is a hot dumpster fire of regrettable cinematic choices. I blame Hawk Ripjaw and our years of collaboration for this, BUT BY CTHULHU I LOVE THAT MOVIE FOR EVERY REASON I SHOULDN’T. Geostorm was not that kind of movie. Geostorm wasn’t even CLOSE. You might even say it was a… GLOBAL DISASTER FROM THE LIKES OF WHICH THE WORLD MAY NEVER RECOVER. You’re welcome. You’re welcome for that pun. Avast, ye, Boozers, spoilers ahead… ye’ve  been warrrrrrned.
Most of my thought process during Geostorm.

A Toast

Round of applause for Gerard Butler’s accent which does approximately 64% of his work for him (I don’t know if anyone here has seen P.S. I Love You but it’s responsible for the ocean level rising due to single women and their annual tearfall. HAHAHA “GLOBAL WARMING” IS A HOAX. Just kidding. Pet a panda. We’ll all be dead soon. Lulz. But back to things I enjoyed about Geostorm. Um. Some of the special effects were pretty cool. But that’s like saying there’s a room full of Jersey Shore cast members with a neat door that teleports you inside like Platform 9 and 3/4. I don’t care how awesome the fringe benefits are, there’s no way you’re getting me inside that room without a lobotomy.

Beer Two

The schizophrenic narrative and bipolar tone of Geostorm was impressive in its failure to decide if it wanted to be a straight-up disaster flick or a political thriller and thus parachuted into cinemas with a truly magnificent belly flop. Tornado! Intrigue at the White House! Tsunami! Murder in spaaaaaaaaaace! Presidential assassination attempts! Space Station hack with a sprinkle of global apocalypse!
BRB. Rolling my eyes FOREVER.
This badly-seamed Frankenstein’s monster of genre organ rejection never coherently gelled into anything more than a clusterfuck of terribly organized CGI disasters and political subterfuge with about as much narrative coherency as a shovel to the face. Not since Happy Feet and/or The Last Mimzy has such a thinly veiled environmental message been drilled into audiences with a lack of finesse previously reserved for government officials who use public beaches not open to the public during a shutdown and/or your dealer’s choice Kardashian clothing line.
Actual footage of me writing this review.

Beer Three

Some movies are awful but enjoyable… Some are in on the joke, and some ARE the joke. Geostorm is the latter. With a magnificent lack of self-awareness Geostorm deadpans its way though some truly godawful dialogue without the slightest wink or nod to the audience indicating that they’re having fun with it (so we should too). And that’s a shame because if ANYONE could’ve saved this movie from being a bathroom trash fire where dreams go to die, it’s Gerard Butler (who’s superpower is delivering ridiculous dialogue with such charm you can’t help but enjoy it). But they stick him in space and give most of the focus to his brother Max for the majority of the movie.
Yeah. That tracks
Some dialogic gems include but are not limited to:
“Hey Max, we don’t walk out on each other, that’s the unspoken code between brothers.”- Gerard Butler’s Jake
UM YOU LITERALLY JUST SPOKE IT.
And
“If you don’t wanna take this [hacking investigation] any further…”-Max
“I do, I do, I mean I do and I don’t, kind of like riding a roller coaster or eating Chipotle.”-Dana
The Chipotle shade in Geostorm is REAL, y’all.
And
[voiceover]
“As long as we remember we share one planet, one future, we will survive.”- Jake’s daughter, Hannah
SCI/FI MOVIE, MY ASS, MIMZY.

Beer Four

Sweet fuck can we just have ONE movie where there isn’t a marriage-hungry bish just THIRSTY for that societal validation of matrimony? Oh, you have a kickass female secret service agent assigned to the President’s detail (a criminally underused Andy Garcia). Cool, cool. BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE. She’s ALSO in an ethically and professionally questionable relationship with a highly placed government official (Jim Sturgess as Max). BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE. After a token protest, Abbie Cornish’s “Sarah” falls right in line with the collusion and kidnapping of POTUS because, like, the world’s in danger so no time to Netflix and Chill.
-Sarah, the ENTIRE movie.
BUT WAIT- you get it. Sarah does some BADASS driving in the middle of a weatherpoclaypse after which the President deduces that Max and Sarah are dating. He deadpans (for laughs) “Marry her.” Yeah. Okay. BECAUSE BITCHES AIN’T SHIT WITHOUT A MAN. Ughhhh. Can we not for like five minutes? I literally can’t even. But the best part is EVERY time Sarah meets someone after that she introduces herself as Max’s fiance, like, did I miss something? You know, like a PROPOSAL? Or the rise of FEM-say it with me-INISM?
Misogyny at its finest.

Beer Five

The mashed up, stale, decades old refried genre beans Geostorm is trying to reheat and pass off as a fresh burrito spits in the face of everything I love; movies and burritos. And Channing Tatum. And churros. And naps. But I digress. There’s nothing new to see here other than Ed Harris as the obvious villain from minute one onscreen (seriously though, if you see Ed Harris in a movie and he’s NOT the bad guy, there’s your twist). From the plot to the concept to the casting, Geostorm phones this one in and phones it in HARD with an incomplete jigsaw puzzle built with pieces from better movies, kind of like what Luc Besson did with my new benchmark-for-bad movie, Valerian And The City Of  A Thousand Planets (except Luc Besson stitched his shitshow together with bits from his own greatest hits showcase whereas Geostorm just borrowed from everyone else).
Valerian haunts me still.
The most realistic part of Geostorm may be a three-way tie between stopping the countdown clock on global destruction at one second and/or the ease with which POTUS was kidnapped to maybe the Cinderella-story dark horse of the weird sexual tension (HERE FOR THAT) and/or stilted interactions between Max and Jake. Pay attention to how Jake pulls Max in for a hug at the end there. The last time a guy did that to me IT WASN’T PLATONIC. Any way you slice it, Geostorm was clearly written by depressed hamsters snorting whippets locked in a room somewhere that only shows San Andreas, Day After Tomorrow, 2012, ArmageddonJack Ryan: Shadow Recruit, The Last Mimzy, and Happy Feet with a dash of the scene with the dog from Independence Day on a loop. Buuuuut if you feel like being blasted into space on a meh-diocre rocket-shit THEN HOO BOY HAVE I GOT THE FLICK FOR YOU.
YEAH, BACK OF THE NECK IS A REAL PLATONIC WAY TO GRAB SOMEONE IN FOR A HUG.

Verdict

Even before I saw Geostorm I could feel a “chill” in my soul; it was the last fuck I had to give, dying. Now I know how every Karen in HR feels, locked into that death spiral of futile resistance toward her destiny. HR belongs to Karen. Shitty disaster flicks belong to me.

Geostorm (2017) Drinking Game

Take a Drink: for each mention of the “forbidden” secret service romance and/or insanely improbable scenario in which a secret service agent is down to *clown (*violate the core principle of their organization MULTIPLE TIMES BUT IT’S OKAY SHE’S IN LOVE).
Take a Drink: for every brotherly argument, conversation, and/or (weirdly) sexually charged hug.
Take a Sip: anytime someone mentions the “Dutch Boy”.
Take a Shot: for every overt act of sabotage and/or voiceover.
Shotgun your Beer: BECAUSE HE’S THE FUCKING PRESIDENT.

About Felix Felicis

Filled with smart-assed sass and armed with the expletives to prove it, Felix Felicis is a critic adrift in a sea of dirty thoughts and tawdry humor. If you see her float by, toss Felix some beef jerky and a taser. She'll take it from there.

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