By: Henry J. Fromage (Six Pack) –
When I first discovered Thunderpants existed, I knew I had to watch it. It’s a goddamned movie about a kid with an overactive gastrointestinal system, and I’m the guy who willingly watched and reviewed A Talking Cat!?!, Doogal, and Foodfight! among others. This was more fated than Excalibur showing up in Arthur’s hood all stoned and shit.
Thunderpants is the epic tale of Patrick Smash (poor, poor Bruce Cook), born with two stomachs and the curse and blessing of non-stop raunchy flatulence. His best friend, who can’t smell of course (because this is totally a thing, see: Dewey Cox), is a genius scientist who finds out how to harness his power for good. Since Pat always wanted to be a “spaceman” and NASA is having trouble getting a rescue mission off the ground, I’ll give you no guesses how this turns out. Before that, though, he hits the perfect note and helps make an opera star, powers an engineless aircraft, and is convicted for murder. He’s basically Fartest Gump.
Hey, I never claimed to be better than what I critique
This movie made me laugh several times. I think that has a lot more to say about me than the movie, however (see: terrible pun above). Part of the reason why is in appreciation of how few fucks this movie gives.
A surprising amount of money was invested in this premise, and a bizarrely game cast including Paul Giamatti and Ned Beatty give it more shrift than you’d think they would. Just imagine Beatty being brought this script by his agent. Also putting bread on the table are Rupert Grint and, in a one line appearance, Keira Knightley. Yes, there was a time when Rupert Grint had more industry clout than Keira Knightley.
About young Grint- in Thunderpants he is everything that people who fear or hate gingers fear or hate. I’d recommend a shot for every time you want to slap him, but that would kill you.
Just… just look at him.
The movie begins with a British Conan O’Brien catching a baby shooting out of his mother’s vagina like Calvin Johnson in the red zone. Then the baby farts. The humor pretty much rolls downhill from there.
The entire design of the film is well thought out and consistent, but also unfortunately looks like what would’ve happened if Tim Burton took a really wrong turn after Edward Scissorhands. It’s going for a certain mis en scene, but an annoying, occasionally revolting one.
This movie, more than almost any I can think of, begs the question; “How the fuck did this get made?” There’s real talent, creativity, and budget here, all in the service of a 87 minute flatulence joke. For Birdemic or The Room, you can point to one crazy, beautiful visionary, but this movie truly is a (wholly bizarre) team effort.
The director of this, Pete Hewitt, was actually the guy who did Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey, but after this he found a taste for juvenile CGI-infested least common denominator family fare like The Garfield Movie and Zoom. We have this move to thank for that, and also for not being able to call Bill Murray on the telephone anymore.
Don’t worry, Bill, the Coen Bros. will start on Garfield 3 anytime now.
You can’t say Thunderpants turns out to be anything but exactly what it wants to be. There’s something noble in that, but at the end of the day it’s still about a fat little boy piloting a space shuttle with his farts.
Take a Drink: for every toot on the ‘ol colonic whistle
Take a Drink: for every injury it occurs
Take a Drink: every time he has a best or worst day ever
Do a Shot: if you or anyone you watch it with sympathy farts at any point during the film
Do a Triple Shot: if it’s a shart