The Legend of Zorro
The Legend of Zorro serves several purposes. It allows the actors involved in the project to fill their important
schedules. It provides an important opportunity for everyone involved in the production a pay check. From the hundreds jobs
for workers in the sound department, visual effects, stunts and general support crews that have vanished up to Canada or
over to Australia, Sony's sequel has at least provided local Californian union members with work. Wait, no, it was filmed
in Mexico, scrub that purpose.
Finding inspiration to write a review for The Legend of Zorro is like trying think of an appropriate Christmas gift
for a colleague or co-worker that you really don't know, or like enough to want to get to know. You wonder why you have to
expend the effort to buy a present for them at all. But you're a good person, and the gesture is to save face. It's to
be polite, even if your idea for a gift turns out to be a dud. Like a tacky mug with a picture of a chick in a bikini
whose attire disappears after you fill it with a hot drink. Having seen The Legend of Zorro feels like you've been
presented with that dud gift yourself, and now you've gotta say thanks. Your thanks feels forced, about as forced as a
movie review who's second paragraph digresses into an analogy about thinking about what Christmas presents to buy. But
you've bought that present, you've received one as well, so even if the movie was bad, you've to write a review for it. The
movie took the time to get itself made after all. You're polite, right?
The choice is, do you write a great review, one that turns out to be the literal equivalent of that perfectly appropriate
gift, or one that reads like a mug covered in soft porn? The fact that I'm into paragraph three now and I've mentioned
nothing yet about the movie, probably means that The Legend of Zorro - which has a few ok stunts peppered throughout
but is decidedly too kiddy to entertain - deserves that latter, crappy gift and a review appropriate for it.
With a shot of a train exploding, The Legend of Zorro's trailer perhaps convinced some to see the movie. The mug was
white, perhaps that was the key to convincing someone to buy it. You've reservations about paying to see the sequel, but it
has Catherine Zeta and Antonio Banderas returning, two actors you think are fine, although not on the top of your
favourites list. Perhaps they can do a decent job, equaling what they did for the first movie. Well, you kind of like the
person you are exchanging gifts with as well, so they'll choose something alright, right? It'll be fine, think of a nice
gift for them, because what you'll be getting will be thoughtful and appropriate. Take a leap, spend the money because
you'll be rewarded. How are you to know that once the wrapper comes off or the curtains pull apart, that what awaits
within will be either Rufus Sewell-like inadequacy or that fully-sick DVD set you dropped hints about over the last month?
The Legend of Zorro's plot involves a drunken Zorro stumbling about and a marriage to Elena that involves various
arguments about the sate of their relationship. Their spats also cover his continuing heroic exploits, something that was
supposed to stop for the sake of their marriage and their son. A plot, which was may have been downloaded from a Spongebob
Squarepants website, features shipments of soap and California becoming part of the United States. I'd assume that picture
of the woman that was featured on the mug may have been seen previously either on unsolicited pop-up adverts or spam
e-mails, either way I don't think the image was licensed for preproduction in this fashion. What this has to do with
Zorro at all confuses me, but it's less confusing than the reasons behind why I have this fucking useless
scheisgeschenk of a mug.
To summarise, if you cannot properly gauge the level of thought which will be given to the presents you'll be exchanging,
it's probably best to ask. It might be embarrassing to do so initially, but at least you can give a shit present as well.
If you jump into more expense than necessary, it's really your own fault, be it through lack of research or misplaced
faith. If you're after thoughts on what the actual movie was like, well, it's like an unwanted present. You'll go through
the motions of accepting the gift with good grace, or not heckling the screen, but afterwards you'll slowly grow to resent
it.
out of ten
"Reviewed" by Paul Boschen
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