Our Squadron has embarked on a most triumphant adventure, to ascertain the best-worst film of the 1980s. After a vast amount of study, and many efficacious screenings, we fell upon an IMDb endorsement
BMX Bandits. While none of us have ever seen this film, and judging solely on user reviews, the movie cover, and pictures from various scenes, we resolved to give it a viewing.
The opening scene produced smiles to everyone's faces with anticipation of the potential astounding phenomenon that was to come. Those same smiles metamorphosed to looks of bewilderment as this same opening scene dragged on for five, nay ten minutes. Not long after, the initial chase scene began and never ended.
Aside from the unquestionably awful acting, the requisite for a translator to decipher the dialogue, mediocre bike stunts, unequivocally incompetent bad guys, and absolutely no plot whatsoever never mind, it was just horrifying anyway you look at it. The only redeeming sorry, I did it again, there was no redeeming quality. It was just that vile.
Not many weeks before, we screened the film "Rad" and were mystified by its pure, unalloyed cinematography and tremendous BMX stunts. I deem it was a mistake, a most heinous mistake, to think that this movie could even come close to paralleling it. Some users compared "BMX Bandits" to the "Goonies." We all laughed and celebrated the scenes of our young heroes braving the copious traps set forth before them and relished in the memorable characters and musical compositions that would leave us singing these songs for days wait, sorry, it didn't have any of that.
When the credits finally completed rolling across the screen, I rose from my chair and gently flicked the switch to the lights above. The quiet hum they produced broke the silence that seemed to linger. What I saw next will forever be seared into my soul. Grown men, warriors who have braved numerous attacks and survived the harshest of environments were broken. Three lay on the floor, crouched in the fetal position, shaking and crying out for their mothers far away. One was bent over the nearby garbage can, emptying the contents of his stomach in an effort to cleanse what he had witnessed. Another simply sat in his chair as his bowels cried "no more" and emptied itself onto the ground. Yet the majority of us simply stared ahead, deep in thought. It wasn't in disbelief of what we had just forced ourselves to observe, but rather in self-reflection of how the deepest part of us will all be forever changed.
Even though we are fighting in Afghanistan, and any time away from reality is valued more than any wealth, none of us can get those 88 minutes back none of us. After the film we made a pact, once this review was complete, and submitted to you good people, we would never speak of it again.
The opening scene produced smiles to everyone's faces with anticipation of the potential astounding phenomenon that was to come. Those same smiles metamorphosed to looks of bewilderment as this same opening scene dragged on for five, nay ten minutes. Not long after, the initial chase scene began and never ended.
Aside from the unquestionably awful acting, the requisite for a translator to decipher the dialogue, mediocre bike stunts, unequivocally incompetent bad guys, and absolutely no plot whatsoever never mind, it was just horrifying anyway you look at it. The only redeeming sorry, I did it again, there was no redeeming quality. It was just that vile.
Not many weeks before, we screened the film "Rad" and were mystified by its pure, unalloyed cinematography and tremendous BMX stunts. I deem it was a mistake, a most heinous mistake, to think that this movie could even come close to paralleling it. Some users compared "BMX Bandits" to the "Goonies." We all laughed and celebrated the scenes of our young heroes braving the copious traps set forth before them and relished in the memorable characters and musical compositions that would leave us singing these songs for days wait, sorry, it didn't have any of that.
When the credits finally completed rolling across the screen, I rose from my chair and gently flicked the switch to the lights above. The quiet hum they produced broke the silence that seemed to linger. What I saw next will forever be seared into my soul. Grown men, warriors who have braved numerous attacks and survived the harshest of environments were broken. Three lay on the floor, crouched in the fetal position, shaking and crying out for their mothers far away. One was bent over the nearby garbage can, emptying the contents of his stomach in an effort to cleanse what he had witnessed. Another simply sat in his chair as his bowels cried "no more" and emptied itself onto the ground. Yet the majority of us simply stared ahead, deep in thought. It wasn't in disbelief of what we had just forced ourselves to observe, but rather in self-reflection of how the deepest part of us will all be forever changed.
Even though we are fighting in Afghanistan, and any time away from reality is valued more than any wealth, none of us can get those 88 minutes back none of us. After the film we made a pact, once this review was complete, and submitted to you good people, we would never speak of it again.