FU!!!

Last night I made an effort to watch something with some friends that I was sure would be stupid. I succeeded, and luckily it was also a perfectly enjoyable movie. Fired Up! is the kind of movie that tries to appeal to the horny 14-year-old in all us that for whatever reason feels like it needs to have some sort of narrative thread. These films usually end up disastrous because the boobs and plot are not very well balanced, but this one somehow came out on top.

Two highschool star football players/poon winners, played by Eric Christian Olsen (the clever one) and Nicholas D'Agosto (the one who gets an arc). They decide to ditch two weeks of masculine football camp in favor of winning more poon at the cheerleading camp with all those girls there and stuff. They go. Blah Blah. Shit happens. D'Agosto falls in love with the morally upstanding cheerleader (Sarah Roemer), Olsen gets hit on by gay dudes, everybody has copious amounts of high school sex, and then it ends.

At some point the movie is forced to make Olsen care about, and so they do. They achieve this simply by suddenly making him say as much. This is the kind plot development writer Freedom Jones has used to fill out his/her (I just can't tell from that name) story. There's also all kinds of flat humor, tasteless homophobia, and awesome Lou Bega karaoke. That's right. Freedom has created a wonderful character in Dr. Rick (David Walton), Roemer's douchebag college boyfriend. This guy really blew my mind with stupid douche jokes I could not stop laughing at.

And to be completely honest, this film is adequately put together by Will Gluck's simple direction. I've certainly seen worse. I'm glad there are some movies made to be nothing but stupid entertainment for virginal middle schoolers that can actually deliver on the promise.
Fired Up! : 6.2

I also watched they early Emily Blunt film My Summer of Love. Pawel Pawlikowski's film of young lesbian love failed on almost every level to hold my interest. This is probably not fair, given that last night might qualify for one of my strangest double features, but it's telling that the highest compliment either I or my friends could muster was, "Well, there were pretty colors in the beginning."

And that's all I got for that one. 5.8