One of the few horror movies to take place on Thanksgiving,
a single dad named Myles Laudermilk drives to a secluded Dollar General to buy cranberry sauce.
I did not forget it's a horror movie.
Zombies. Horse thieves. Aliens.
Michael Moore is there with a film crew, but is harassed by a local National Guard attachment that had been ordered by the state officials. He starts yelling at the Colonel and the others, even Lilo's Saudi royal love interest, and old Moore is just crowing, wailing, finally reaching a crescendo, working himself into a cathartic moment, holding them off by threatening to stab himself with an ink pen.
Three deputies are there, buzzed-on some Arbor Mist and Manneshevellicz, and one throws cheeseburgers, at a rapid clip, into the air at strafing enemy fighter jets, taking them all down, miraculously.
No comments:
Post a Comment