I think I should start reviewing films. I watch lots of them so why not, and I can sit through almost any film especially when I am not tired. As I don’t have any academic qualification as a arts-based critic, my “watch-o-meter” scale will be very simple (I am sure you are thanking your stars): dont-miss; pop-corn fare; no alternatives and go-do-your-laundry-instead – ranked from edge-of-the-seat interesting to I-just-wasted-X-hours-of-my-life!
\nSome films are born lame. They limp into cinemas or more fiting – straight to DVD.
\nOne such lame film is “No Bad Days”. If I was below 20, I could probably just say the films is just gay as in “it’s so gay!”
\nIt’s bad enough to give one a bad day if not for the fact that the acting is so laughable!<\/p>\n
The films itself seems to have 2 titles – “No bad days” and “Lost Treasure of the MAYA” – or is that the subtitle or the alternate title in an alternative universe where the film does not\u00a0register on\u00a0the “suck-o-meter”?<\/p>\n
I must tell you I just freed 714,260 KB of disk space on my Laptop and I am sure the disk will thank me for it.
\nI could have sworn that one of the tracks played in the film was by a Nigerian artiste. The song was definetely in pidgin english. Fastforward to the credits and the track’s title is “Gee Gie Jah Gaa, Gee Gie Gee Gie” written and performed by\u00a0 Jonathan Beah A.K.A. Big Joe and Amara Dukuray A.K.A Dee Castro.
\nThat title would be better rendered “Ji-gi ja-ga, jigi-jigi” and I am sure at least one of the artiste is definitely one of ours – most def.<\/p>\n
Skip this one. Go do your laundry instead.<\/p>\n
Try Staten Island (Ethan Hawke and Julian Nicholson) on for size. If you don’t like it, go stand in the corner with your face to wall for an hour.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I think I should start reviewing films. I watch lots of them so why not, and I can sit through almost any film especially when I am not tired. As I don’t have any academic qualification as a arts-based critic, … Continue reading