Wrath of the Titans

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By Mark Ramsey | 2012/04/04

When last we met, Perseus had defeated the dreaded Kracken but has since settled into life as a simple plumber where he battles the far more common butt-kracken.

“Common, but no less appalling a specter,” said Perseus.

Ralph Fiennes returns in his ever-to-be-typecast role as the personification of evil – Hades, ruler of the underworld and, from the looks of it, ruler of the Doobie Brothers.

“When I’m not in Hell, my band is opening a winery tour for The Amazing Kreskin,” said Fiennes.

From Hell’s heart I stab at thee! It’s Wrath of the Titans!

It’s the sequel nobody asked for to the remake nobody wanted! And it deserves the wrath of the audience if not the wrath of Khan!  Bring on the tequila-strength buttered popcorn.

Wrath of the Titans is long on gratuitous CG and unruly beards and short on story and battle skirts. I was just beginning to pretend the first chapter didn’t exist when, lo and behold, Warner Bros. greenlights a third chapter.

A third chapter?!

“Actually it was more of a greenish-yellow light,” acknowledged a Warner’s spokesman, “dappled with flecks of humiliation and powered by the MacBooks of a thousand rhesus monkeys!”

The great Zeus is captured and held captive in the most dramatic rose ceremony ever. You dare chain a God?!

Flash back to the original Clash of the Titans when Laurence Olivier’s eyes were rolling so furiously they spun off into a jar that remains today on the desk of producer Michael Bay who has a taste for eyes if not material.

So Perseus must save Zeus. But first, he must mount a flying horse and gallop over the horizon, proving that aerodynamics is nothing more than a myth of the liberal media elites.

Not content to take itself or its audience seriously, Wrath of the Titans also features Wrath of the Attempted Comic Relief – occasional stabs at humor which might have been more effective if they had stabbed closer to the hearts of the filmmakers.

Look out! It’s a giant with only one eye! “Depth perception is another myth of the liberal media elites,” explains Perseus as the giant swats at him but instead slaps himself upside the head.

Enter Bill Nighy, who has never played a role he couldn’t improve by covering it with his own spit.

“Bill is Hollywood’s saliva go-to guy,” said Wrath’s casting agent. “He’s mister ‘spray it and play it.’”

“I have spit upon Hollywood’s biggest stars in Hollywood’s most overblown character roles,” said Bill, handing me a towel to wipe myself down.

This is one of those movies populated by brothers who address each other as “Brother…” as in “Brother, that is a really cute skirt.”

Thanks go to Sam Worthington, who has spent most of his career battling a blue screen and will spend most of what’s left battling a bottle.

Can Perseus stop the slow-moving giant rock monster Kronos? Or will the monster’s own incredible lack of inertia do that for us?

Either way, you’re in for a treat.

And when you find one please alert me.

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