Every Saint Patrick’s Day for several years I’ve watched The Boondock Saints. This year my wife bought the sequel and we watched it last night. I wish they had shown me a viewing of it before it was released. I would have bet the house I built with my own hands I could have written a better screenplay. The acting was horrible but at least it was better than the writing. The plot theme was completely different from the original and it seemed like a bad fan film written by dozens of different people with different goals. The antagonist’s motivations were not revealed until more than halfway through, and then they were presented in the form of multiple flashbacks and dream sequences that were so long that they pulled the watcher away from the actual plot. I suspect the writer(s) wanted to match the dark humor of the original and after failing settled for crude jokes about prison rapes. It had all the elegance of a public service announcement and appeared to be written at the same level of intelligence. The original was such a well written movie that sharing its name with this is an insult. Thank God I had watched a quirky little Icelandic film called White Night Wedding the night before. That was a good film. The memories of which kept me from chewing off my own arm in an attempt to escape after the wife and kids refused to turn it off.
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