![]() ![]() Speaking of totally retarded senses of humor, director Hagan and screenwriters Dan Callahan and Adam Ellison have scored big-time in the Suckiest Rip-Off of Superbad Ever department with their excruciatingly unfunny debut feature, College, a film so persistently loud and annoying that it single-handedly makes the case for drugging yourself with a roofie, Nembutal, and GHB cocktail (add bitters to taste) prior to entering the theatre. Fear and loathing? Sometimes, sure, but mostly we just lob water balloons at the edgier, crackier, tweak-binger types, and they flee (stagger, shamble, collapse) in terror from what appears to be a wrathful deity with a totally retarded sense of humor. ![]() ![]() Actually, it's kinda fun: Whenever we feel our voyeuristic tendencies kicking in, my friends and I can enjoy a virtually invisible second-story alley view of young (and not-so-young) Austin in all its hedonistic overload, from cringe-worthy quick lubes atop filthy Downtown Dumpsters to the crazed-weasel consumption of pretty much every controlled substance this side of Hunter S. I have lived in Austin for the better part of my life and resided not 50 feet shy of Sixth Street, Austin's increasingly feral nightlife epicenter-cum-love pit/vomitorium, for the worse part of a decade. ![]()
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