At the Movies: Death Race 2000

I'd take the whole affair more seriously without the helmet.

A week after jumpstarting Cammy’s heart using a failed musical, our heroes are gathered on the couch. They revel in mutual unemployment, slowly working permanent grooves into the cushions.

Byron: I was thinking. Why don’t we play a video game for some variety? Alan’s got an Xbox over there.
Cammy: With nothing but single player RPGs. It’s the most anti-social game collection on Earth.
Alan: I apologize for nothing.
Cammy: Whatever. Just put in another DVD.
Alan: What, and get up? Why don’t you do it?
Cammy: Gentlemen wouldn’t let a lady walk all the way across the room.
Byron: Are you both serious? Are you really that eager to shirk off moving a few feet? You should change the DVD to redeem yourselves.
Cammy: Nice try. I am one with the couch.
Alan: Hold up. Crisis averted. We’ve got Netflix.
Byron: Thank God.
Alan: No.
Byron: You’re an asshat.
Alan: An asshat with an HD TV.
Byron: I’d smack you, but I’d have to walk to the other side of the couch.
Cammy: Strong words. Hey guys, it’s recommending Death Race.
Alan: That’s because you screwed up all my ratings.
Cammy: Details, details. It’s a classic.
Alan: It’s your kind of classic, meaning it’ll either be a train wreck or pretentious indie clusterfuck.
Byron: Hey, sometimes she recommends pretentious indie train wrecks.
Cammy: Ouch. I didn’t expect that from you.
Byron: I have my moments.
Cammy: Hmm. Well, it’s an action movie where cars smash into other people and occasionally each other. For points.
Byron: I’m in.
Alan: I hate majority rule. Hmm. I see the President of our dystopia-for-dummies does as well.
Cammy: I think he has a great platform. Take the Cliffs notes from 1984, and add a trans-continental destruction derby. Political genius.
Byron: I’d watch it.
Alan: In a way, this is an inbred version of Cabin in the Woods.
Byron: You’ve lost me.
Alan: I know. Here’s the link: both movies aim to highlight the perversity of the audience’s lust for violence. But this movie, at the end of the day, has nothing going on for it beyond exploding heads and Sylvester Stallone’s hilarious goddamn accent. The satirical core is there somewhere, but it’s buried under an avalanche of stupid.
Byron: To be fair, there are a lot of those exploding heads.
Cammy: If you ask me, every movie needs a rivalry between a Nazi and an extra from Gunsmoke.
Byron: Is that David Carradine? I guess we all have to start somewhere.
Alan: True. However, in this case “somewhere” was Kung Fu.
Cammy: Never again has a pacifist mangled so many men.
Byron: This is sort of like a movie version of Wacky Racers.
Cammy: Did they mow down civilians in Wacky Racers?
Byron: They should have.
Alan: I’m sure Wacky Racers will get its own gritty reboot. Everything else already has.
Byron: What about-
Cammy: To be fair, an extreme version of The Smurfs couldn’t be worse than the actual movie. Or show. In fact, the society in this movie somehow makes less sense than The Smurfs. You have to love the future trap.
Byron: What’s the future tra-
Alan: No.
Byron: I want-
Alan: I’m not playing her game. She baits us into asking her to explain her latest ganja-fueled buzzword. If she wants to rant, she’s going to have to save it for her shitty blog.
Cammy: I’m not sure what you’re talking about.
Alan: Great. Then there’s nothing to worry about.
Cammy: Fine.
Byron: I liked the scene where-
Cammy: AGH! A future trap is when sci-fi writes itself into a corner by choosing the near future. It’s 12 years past the supposed date of this movie, and American society is yet to degenerate into a paranoid autocracy.
Alan: You must not be into the news.
Cammy: Fully degenerate.
Byron: Am I going to get to finish a sentence tod-
Cammy: Of course! You got several earlier.
Alan: It’s not like you’ve been going for anything too insightful anyway.
Byron: Go fuck your-

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