District 9Or Baby Prawn Saves the Day … and My Good Mood

Dual Review: Rhonda Baughman & Joshua Dobson

So, we’re both in therapy – although for radically different reasons. I had this good-natured thought a movie at the dollar theater would provide ample distraction from the ‘goals’ we had each discussed in therapy, that is, enough time to allow said goals to percolate in a peppy fashion and even perhaps gather enough inspiration for an old fashioned dual Micro-Shock review.

God. Dammit.

When will I learn to just allow a great day to be great without attempting to sabotage it with one of good-natured thoughts?!? When?!?

Josh: Why does every movie you take me to feature someone puking up black bukkake?

Rhonda: Not all of them – just two.

Josh: Um, yeah – but we’ve only reviewed four films and that is a 50% bukkake rate. I say we shouldn’t spoil a good thing, you know? And honestly, I also say if you wanna see this movie and you don't have a hot lady friend who can loan you the buck fiddy, you can make your own copy of this movie at home by simply placing inside a pillowcase DVDs of Alien Nation, Cronenberg's The Fly, and Generic Interracial cop buddy movie #927. Then pry the lock off your parents' liquor cabinet with a screwdriver and pour a liter of the cheapest available gin into the bag and shake it until those DVDs hump. The misbegotten spawn = D9. Although, main dude is good when geeky and kinda reminded a bit of Lionel from Dead Alive.

Rhonda: This is the point where we tell our readers we didn’t actually consciously set out to watch three Peter Jackson movies in one day.

Josh: This is true, sweet bukkake lovin’ Reader. I can swear on the corpse of my dead ex in the basement – it all just sorta worked out that way. Both, I mean. The corpse and Peter Jackson Day.
 
Rhonda: I felt overwhelmed in a bad way – by the social commentary. Like I’m the baby seal, right? Or the baby prawn, in this case, yeah I like that – baby prawn. And there is a big fuckin’ club of social commentary just swinging away and often it bangs into the back of my skull and I lose prawn points. It was exasperating. You got the headache, I just got the deep sighing. Then the credits rolled. I now have to go home and put in Day of the Dead for some real social commentary, the kind of social commentary I already know, and care about, firsthand: capitalism has lost all humanity. Not: love thy neighbor and watch out for the white man, on any continent.

Josh: Actually, it was the score that announced my headache. It was … Enya on the first day of her period if she had just eaten a pill called MelodramamineTM. The prawns were nifty, but I coulda used more prawn.  Prawn it the fuck up, man.  And no scene of a prawn gettin' it on w/those black hoes??? What is the deal? The 'social commentary' was a nice try I guess, but rather trite: 'xenophobia is bad', 'middle management sucks',
'corporations are greedy and soulless and would gladly dissect you if it were cost feasible to sell the chemical constituents of your body for the 89 cents they're supposedly worth' … yes, we know. That fucking music was so melodramatic – all we were missing in the film was a brain tumor and an abortion.

Rhonda: Actually, there was a brief reference to an abortion.

Josh: Shit. You are correct. I must have blinked. A long blink …

Rhonda: Back to the best part, the only best part: baby prawn. I fell in love with the baby prawn. I don’t want more adult prawns (although the aforementioned interspecies sex scene would have been nice, instead of the 1984-esque reference at naughty sex, alien or otherwise, in order to destroy credibility. Fine. But show me … show …. me …. Seriously. I need to see the sex to believe it in this case.) But! More baby prawn, more baby prawn, I say. The adult prawns were all half C. Bale in The Machinist and half Predator. I want a baby prawn for my own. Like a little pet, really. I feel the way about the baby prawn like I used to about Pikachu back in the day. And Belial. I will always feel that way about Belial, though. And he would sleep with me, not in the basket.

Josh: What the fuck are you even talking about?

Rhonda: I don’t know, really. District 9? The baby prawn?

Josh: Good girl. And what do we think overall?

Rhonda: About the movie?

Josh: No, about prawns. Yes, about the fucking movie.

Rhonda: That, uh, the end battle scene was very wearying? Robot Jox meets a Transformer meets Sigourney Weaver in that scene from Alien? Or was it Áliens? And it kinda reminded me of the generic Snuggle Bear running from the Battle Tanks in that one commercial -

Josh: Uh-huh. Yes. And?

Rhonda: That you get to pick the movie next time?

Josh: Yes. Good. And?

Rhonda: This is the weakest Jackson and we’re annoyed there will most likely be a sequel? Ha! See there? What I said about Jackson and the recent death, the double entendre and -

Josh: Mmm-hmmm. And?

Rhonda: I speak in non-sequitors and you probably find it annoying.

Josh: Correct.

Rhonda: I liked the baby prawn a lot and watched for it like I did the gopher in Caddyshack when I was younger.

Josh: (silence) (incredulous stare) (lights another cigarette) (knows better than to argue with a woman or point out the weak link in her argument, especially when she is obsessed with a baby prawn) (Josh rides it out).

Rhonda: … and then Baby Prawn, who does need a real name, saved the day – and my good mood, you know?

Josh: I do. I know. We all know, Rhonda. Tell me more about the baby prawn ….