$5 a Day

Time.

Larry King has a cameo as Sharon Stone's stunt double.

Time is a menstruating woman - it cannot be stopped or reasoned with. All you can do is try to stay out of its way as it slowly devours the joy and life from your withering husk, and hope that it doesn't leave too much blood on the carpet.

This is to say that time is cruel. Just look what it did to Sharon Stone. Remember when everyone would watch Basic Instinct for that one shot of her fajita, even though it looked like a photo of Robin Williams getting open heart surgery? Now it probably looks like that Tauntaun scene in Empire Strikes Back. You know the one I'm talking about.

Anyway, Basic Instinct was a shit movie. It's basically a sixty-something minutes of B grade erotic thriller book-ending the world's shortest and least exciting porno. Sharon Stone's vagina is looking worse for wear these days. Ever see the movie 127 Hours with James Franco? Believe it or not but that movie was filmed entirely on location inside Sharon Stone's massive gaper. Franco was quoted as saying "Had I actually been stuck inside (Sharon's) vagina, I would have chewed through my own arm in 127 seconds, let alone hours."

Not really, but... I mean... probably, you know? I wouldn't blame him if he had. I'd rather get polio than see her naked.

I should probably talk about the actual movie I'm reviewing now. It's fucking garbage. The whole premise is a middle aged man going on a road trip with his father in a salmon pink PT Cruiser with Sweet'n Low brand sweetener decals. They don't even have a mixed tape for the drive, amateurs. It stars Christopher Walken, the brother from Face/Off, Dean Cain and Sharon Stone - looking like she's spent the last 15 years preparing for the role of Skeletor in a Guillermo del Toro remake of Masters of the Universe.

$5 a Day is a movie about being stuck somewhere you don't want to be, and they capture that sensation pretty well. I immediately didn't want to be there watching it. The story goes that Walken (Nat), an old conman, tells his son (Ritchie) that he's sick and dying, and that he needs him to drive his old arse to New Mexico for a cure. They manage to eat along the way by using fake IDs to get free birthday meals at IHOPs. They end up in New Mexico to collect money from an old business partner of Nat's, and Ritchie ends up finding out that not only is Nat not sick, he isn't even his real dad - which makes all those bath-times a little suspicious. Ritchie runs off with the money but does some soul searching and goes back to Nat, who then decides to collapse and get actually sick. Then Ritchie and his ex-girlfriend sneak Nat out of hospital so he can go skinny dipping, and then die. Awesome job, guys. A very unsatisfying end to a very unfulfilling movie about people I genuinely don't care about. Who wrote this thing? A husband and wife couple that have written nothing but subpar TV movies since 1994. Seems about right.

If you were to offer me the choice of watching this movie again or being injected with all the vaccines, then austism me up, Scotty, because it's a far less cruel fate than 98 minutes of this testament to mundanity.

Christopher Walken hams his performance up big time - even by Christopher Walken standards - and looks like he was dressed entirely by thrift store donations from the 1970's. And then his hair... Is it even real? It looks like a helmet in the shape of a wig designed by the architect who did Pangu Plaza. And... is he paying those hairdressers in Phone cards and coupons? Yes. Yes he is. Somehow I get the idea that he does this in real life too, because he seems genuinely bat-shit crazy. And don't even get me started again on Sharon Stone. She's the third least convincing woman in the Hollywood, behind Madonna and Bruce Jenner.

All in all, an utter waste of an hour and forty minutes that could have been better spent volunteering or spending time with the underprivileged (read: anyone who isn't a white male).