The wranglers of Movieline’s Bad Movies We Love (me and me alone) always dredge up dismissible teen comedies from the early 2000s, in case you haven’t noticed. What’s with them (me)? Wait, I know: Those movies are bad and we (I) love them. Yes! Right! On that note, say hello to Orange County, the breakout vehicle for Movieline pal and Lucky star Colin Hanks, who holds together this funny but aimless romp with the help of Jack Black, a thrilling supporting cast, and a botched Beatles haircut.
Orange County follows a respectable high-schooler (Hanks) as he applies to Stanford to “become a writer,” discovers he didn’t get in, and finds himself gawking at the braindead O.C. denizens who surround him in his marooned existence. The movie spews comedy gold for the first 20 minutes before slowly taking on an overly earnest tone in the latter half. Thankfully, it’s only an 81-minute movie. The funny remains funny without turning into a time-suck! Stick that glowing endorsement above the marquee, Mr. Downtrodden Matinee Proprietor!
As usual, I’ve distilled our Bad Movie into five lovable components. Onward with the rankings.
5. Jack “Teddy Vedder” Black
You probably forget that you love Jack Black, even if it’s that conditional adoration you associate with Las Vegas, Ritz Bitz Peanut Butter Sandwiches, or Madonna. You remember Nacho Libre and Gulliver’s Travels, but High Fidelity and Shallow Hal seem like dilapidated, ashen cities of yore. Do wake up. Jack Black is a feisty hybrid of James Hetfield and Rowlf from…
St. Tropez better declare a CODE ANTOINE DODSON (Hint: Lock up errbody!), because Kunty Karl has landed and he can’t wait to slurp up a drop of local non-fat virgin blood off his Chanel coke spoon. Don’t worry, Kanty Karl will force one of his slaves to throw themselves over his body so he won’t risk staining his pristine white jacket with mortal blood.
Speaking of Karl’s slaves, why isn’t one of them carrying his zombie clutch for him? Karl’s hand bones are much too fragile for him to carry his own clutch. Karl better punish them later by making them moisturize his culo lips with the tears of his victims.
Here’s more pictures of Kunty Karl struttin’ that ass through St. Tropez yesterday. If Dr. Claw got a job as a maître d’ at a fancy gay vampire lounge, he would look just like Karl!
