Posted at 4:11 PM on April 21, 2006
by Euan Kerr
I began watching "God Wears My Underwear" last night, one of the films showing this weekend at 2006 Minneapolis St Paul International Film Festival. Then I did something I have done only a couple of times in my life.
I stopped watching the movie after about 15 minutes because I just couldn't take any more.
Nominally it's the story of a woman who believes she is the reincarnation of a Tibetan buddhist monk who taught in Berlin when Hitler came to power. I'm not sure though because I didn't make it that far into the film.
The acting was embarrassing, the plot incomprehensible, and digital effects which were meant to glue everything together just made it even more disjointed. There was a cartoon parrot which seemed to have flown in from a Sesame Street animation, and a woman who, when she wasn't sitting in the bath staring at herself, causes friction through her aggressive enurisis.
So I just gave up.
Imagine my surprise when I opened the Star Tribune this morning and saw Colin Covert had given the film 4 out of 4 stars.
"Here is a film of such transcendent ineptitude that it is truly so bad it's good," he writes.
"Rare is the chance to see a film that would make Ed Wood weep."
Beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder. I'd be interested to hear what anyone else who sees it thinks. "God Wears My Underwear" screens Sunday evening at the Bell Auditorium.
And as ever I'm intrigued as to hear what anyone else has seen and enjoyed/hated.
I had the same experience with this film. After seeing NORTH KOREA, A DAY IN THE Life (which I enjoyed -- propaganda's fun if you see it correctly), I found this film so brazenly horrible I couldn't say more than 15 minutes. I couldn't even appreciate it from the camp/ironic standpoint (irony's WAY played out). Comparing this to Ed Wood insults Ed Wood to no end.
From someone who sat through the entire film...
I think the guy who walked out after 15 minutes has got to be one of
the biggest idiots ever to "review" a film. The first 15 minutes were
arguably the best part of the film -- the overhead shots of the
choo-choo train coming from Tibet -- the title indicating that Himmler
was the son of a chicken farmer -- the outrageously funny scene with
the gravelly jewish mother and the shrink taking funny notes on her
ravings -- is a comic gem of a short-short film in its own right. I was
laughing out loud and would consider condemnation by a nincompoop
shmuck of a goyishe kop of this density to be a compliment in reverse.
And you can take that to the bank.
CHAIM IN AMERIKA