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1 review, 2 user ratings

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Blonde and Blonder
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by brianorndorf

"Heterosexuality is not worth this much pain"
1 stars

Boy, this is the last time I listen to my penis for movie selection advice.

Dee Twiddle (Pamela Anderson) and Dawn St. Dom (Denise Richards) are two morons who strike up a friendship during an airplane flying lesson. Bopping around Canada looking for work, the duo happen upon a mob hit carried out by the deadly assassin, The Cat (Emmanuelle Vaugier). Assumed by organized crime stooges (John Farley and Kevin Farley) and Canadian law enforcement officials to be the perpetrators of the murder, Dee and Dawn head to a Niagara Falls casino, where they get mixed up with a crime boss named Mr. Wong. On their tail are The Cat and her partner The Kit (Meghan Ory), who aim to murder Dawn and Dee so they can receive full credit for their crimes.

I walked into “Blonde and Blonder” with some degree of knowledge that what I was about to watch probably wasn’t going to be of the highest quality. It’s Denise Richards and Pamela Anderson; we’re not exactly talking Lemmon and Matthau here. Hell, they’re not even Carrey and Daniels. Still, “Blonder” stunned me with its unpleasantness; the movie truly gives stupidity a bad name in the manner it spazzes around like a class clown nobody can tolerate, frantic for laughs, yet only repulsing further with each wretched grab for comedy. You know a movie reeks when you bank on low quality and the picture fails to meet even that depressing level of anticipation.

We’re talking clapper jokes, flatulent turtles, and several “Who’s on First?” routines; there are miles of slapstick that feel like a 10-year stint in solitary, scored with Ringling Brothers-like subtlety by tone-deaf William Goodrun, who even tosses in not one, but two “wa-wa-waaaaa” trumpet stings to underline pratfalls. Swear to God. It’s almost something out of a hidden camera show, where they capture hilariously horrified reactions from the audience to the garbage that takes up every square foot of this antagonistically unlikable motion picture. I watched “Blonder” with my mouth agape, wondering how on earth a movie like this actually finds funding.

Turns out the film is the end product of a Canadian tax break and the screenplay is co-written by Pamela’s brother, Gerry. Mystery solved.

I understand that “Blonder” comes to the world in the name of harmless fun, I just can’t believe this much malarkey passed in front of a camera unquestioned. It’s bad enough to have Anderson and Richards, two delightfully glammy performers that have no idea how to act much less execute humor, hired as the leads, but “Blonder” encourages the supporting cast to ham it up just as assertively. Oh, there’s no hell quite like watching Chris Farley’s insipid brothers improv nonstop. Strangely, “Blonder” is more of an ensemble affair, with our fair-haired leads flat-out disappearing from the story for extended periods of time.

Another question arises: just who is “Blonder” for? While not outright violent, the story concerns various murders with assorted puddles of blood left behind, thus leaving it out of pre-teen hands. Then there’s Anderson and Richards who, while dressed provocatively (do you really want Anderson any other way?), still keep to the PG-13 edict of sex appeal the movie bizarrely holds itself to. This will not make unhappily married dads and unstable single men (the unofficial target demo) happy. We’re left with a comedy with bloodshed, and sex without appeal. Go Canada!

The end credits of “Blonder” dedicate the film to Bob Clark, the “Christmas Story” director who was killed in 2007. Clark’s connection to the film is a bit of a mystery (Seńor Google tells me he directed “Blonder,” yet a “Dean Hamilton” is credited as the official helmer on the credits and packaging), and even the man who gave the world “Baby Geniuses” doesn’t deserve a dud like this on his resume. “Blonde and Blonder” is an insistently bad, frightful imitation of a giggly good time. While the leading ladies certainly retain their attractive qualities, watching Anderson and Richards squirm, shimmy, and squeal their way around this stinker is enough to make one give up on the dream of overinflated, untalented starlets forever.

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originally posted: 02/07/08 07:40:53
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User Comments

4/05/08 smrtpants fondled and fondled-er...but just w[h]i[t]ch [bitch] is w[h]i[t]ch...? 2 stars
2/17/08 ceredo don't even add it to your 'watch when it comes out on DVD" 2 stars
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  N/A (PG-13)
  DVD: 05-Feb-2008



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