Take a Drink: whenever Jupiter gets her flush on at work.
Take a Sip: every time Caine goes all Silver Surfer with his rocket boots.
Take a Shot: whenever you hear a canine/dog joke.
Take a Drink: for every battle and/or time Jupiter gets rescued from the brink of death or really bad idea.
Take a Drink: anytime you hear Russian or “I hate my life” or “Earth” or “I wanna go home”.
Shotgun a Beer: FOR THE WINGS OF MOTHERFUCKING LOVE. Literally.
By: Felix Felicis (Four Beers) –
It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest I go to than I have ever known. That’s motherfucking Dickens, y’all, and it explains the shit we critics go through for you so that you won’t have to. Jupiter Ascending is like the unicorn of films; mythical in its shittiness, damn near impossible to understand, and teenage girls will fucking lose their minds when they see it. But it’s frothing zealotry will somehow suck you into this fecal SciFi tornado and spit you out stunned and slightly confused as to why YOU STILL KIND OF LIKED IT.
Jupiter Ascending follows Mila Kunis as, get ready for it, “Jupiter Jones”, a mediocre malcontent maid who gets swept up into an interstellar intergalactic political soap opera for the very fatey fate of earthy Earth. Cards on the table, I might be hammered right now (just roll with it). But I digress. Jupiter and her half-human, half-albino-wolf-spliced-genetic-soldier with, no, without, no, with wings (maybe) bodyguard, Channing Tatum’s “Caine Wise” (get it, Caine? Canine? *sigh*) race to claim her birthright and topple a tyrannical regime in time to make it home to clean some more toilets. Or something. They fight her fate, falling in love with each other, and some whack-as-shit alien henchmen along the way. Will Jupiter save herself? Will she save Earth? Will mullets ever come back en vogue?
This movie was so bad it circled back around to good, so terrible it hit Mach Awesome, so fucking ridiculous it went to infinity and beyond. Jupiter Ascending had a drop of Twilight mixed with a dollop of Divergent served scrambled (like the brains who came up with this shit YEAH I’M LOOKING AT YOU WACHOWSKI SIBLINGS) on a bed of Fifth Element. Oscar hopeful Eddie Redmayne, who’s in the hunt with The Theory Of Everything, has seriously screwed the pooch with this one… IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE. His sibilant whispers combined with frothing, rage-induced spittle (his saliva alone deserved a cameo credit) and alternating paralysis/flailing puppet-on-a-wire acting as villain “Balam Abrasax” was magnificently, majestically bad.
Everything good about Jupiter Ascending is pretty much a laundry list of what was wrong with it but, like, so wrong it was laughably right… BUT STILL WRONG. The best part was how serious this movie wanted you to take it, trying to hammer home galactic grandeur with an epic scope but dropping the ball so hard it was almost as funny as watching toddler and geriatric YouTube fails. I was primed to like this movie, practically salivating to get in the door and I haven’t been let down this hard since my Tamagotchi died in eighth grade. R.I.P Mr. Snuggles.
A shorter list would’ve been what DIDN’T go wrong with this box-office bomb. From a pushed back release date, (traditionally the kiss of death, Godfather-style to movies) and dialogue so idiotic I can only assume they hired a team of genetically modified ferrets fed nothing but young adult romance novels and crystal meth to churn out bad joke after bad joke until your face melts off Ark Of The Covenant-style, as you weep with gratitude that the pain has finally ended, Jupiter Ascending slowly snowballed like a runaway train picking up speed towards what may be the most stupidly hilarious SciFi shitsicle I’ve seen in years.
By the end of this movie I can’t honestly say if I was crying hysterically or laughing so hysterically I was crying, but the result was the same: glares from the row of teenage girls to my left. To them I say: Please suck it at your earliest convenience. What really got me witch-cackling, though, was the combination of scriptural asshattery combined with dead-earnest performances so inconceivablish I was waiting for Ashton Kutcher to pop out onscreen at any moment telling me my ass just got Punk’d. Here are a collection of dialogic gems I managed to write down before the ink started blurring with sloshing tequila from my booze-bra:
“This is too dangerous.” -An emotionally-constipated-yet-concerned Caine
“I know, but this is not your decision.”- A doe-eyed-yet-earnest Jupiter sadly not talking about the ramification of late night Taco Bell binges.
“Your Majesty, I have more in common with a dog than I have with you.”- Caine
“I love dogs. I’ve always loved dogs.”-Jupiter
“Beauty… And her Beast.” -Titus (HOLY FUCK ANOTHER DOG JOKE I JUST SPRAINED A CORNEA MY EYES ROLLED SO HARD)
“I CREATE LIFE! … And I destroy it… To live is to consume.”-A wildly bipolar screaming Balem/throaty whisper of doom and doomyness Balem
“You’re a hunter who’s been searching for something his whole life… If you wanna see her again… You get down there and (oh god here it comes) start digging.”- A finale pep talk from Sean Bean’s “Stinger”
I saw this in IMAX 3D and the already choppy-as-fuck and blurry-as-shit action sequences, liberally sprinkled throughout Jupiter Ascending anytime it looked like you were beginning to understand what was going on, blew up and popped out of the screen to aggressively take a Cleveland Steamer on your eyeballs. If you do go see this, do it in 2D because the extra dimension just makes Jupiter Ascending extra shitty and harder to follow. Don’t get me wrong, this movie was godawful in the best way (just, you know, save your money and splurge on 2D tickets and sneak in a box of wine instead).
I’ve touched on this already but holy fucking mother of overacting, Batman, this cast was star-studded (mostly with stone-cold stud Channing TatYUM who, if you read The Felix-Ripjaw Debate, you’ll know Hawk Ripjaw and I have an unhealthy obsession with) and managed to have tiny sparks of chemistry with each other, though those embers were quickly smothered by terrible dialogue and character arcs so predictable I had time to knit my dog a sweater, make Valentine’s Day reservations for our furrmantic dinner out on the town, and silently resent my mother all before the credits rolled. But the actors, who the fuck knows how, still managed to be relatable and (for some) even likable if still laughably bad. Mad props to Bob the Advocate.
Lana Wachowski: So should we write a coherent plot?
Andy Wachowski: *crosses eyes at optical illusion puzzle*
Lana Wachoski: ANDY.
Andy Wachowski: Uh, what?
Lana Wachowski: Fuck it, we’ll just shove exposition down their throats in-between space fights.
Andy Wachowski: I still can’t find Waldo…
Lana Wachowski: *pinches bridge of nose* Fuck my life.
The terrible dialogue, blurry action sequences, and insane overacting may have actually been a genius plan hatched by the Wachowski siblings to distract you from the fact that NOTHING FUCKING MAKES SENSE. To be fair, the sweeping space-scape visuals were pretty cool… But I can’t begin to describe how confused I was as to what was happening, why it was happening, where the fuck anyone was, and how the ending was remotely plausible. Buy a blender. Got it? Good. Shove a copy of Oedipus, Romeo and Juliet, and some rocket boots in that bitch and pulse until it’s sloppy slush. Congrats, you just made Jupiter Ascending.
I can’t give this tornado of shit more than four beers because it was the best worst movie I’ve seen in years. Jupiter Ascending is a cocaine-fueled hamster of hilarity bouncing around the cinematic cosmos leaving you simultaneously entertained and disgusted. Two SciFi nipples way, way up. No, down. No, up. No-