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Oooops, we forgot to laugh!

I went to the theatre to see Paul Blart: Mall Cop; “I’m sorry, I did a bad thing and I won’t do it again!“. I don’t know what really urged me to see this movie. It must have been the promise of the comedy of the year or the sweet memory of that convivial Kevin James from King of Queens, but my eyebrow lifted in disapproval after the first five minutes, even though I had handfuls of popcorn richly coated in butter, the generator of cinematic pleasure.

 Bebeloi tried to laugh a few times so we didn’t declare the evening totally compromised, while I was there praying that, at least this time, a minute would have less than 60 seconds.

 Mall Cop is to my, of course, unproficient opinion, such a flimsy, lightweight story, it makes me surprised it was even released. What I mean is that, when it comes about movies, the American consumer takes everything very seriously, their expectations are high and there is no place for errors.

In these two little years of America (they still have baby teeth), I’ve seen tons of good movies, movies that saturated my desire for value, that had outstanding acting and good directing, whether fictions or nonfictions. But this new face of Kevin James and his production have nothing to do with what was intended to be (or maybe not?) a quality moment of laughter.

One Comment

  1. Mike says:

    It’s a shame, too, because I really wanted to like that movie!

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