I keep forgetting that I wanted to write about this movie, which I watched almost a week ago now. That’s how stirring a movie it was. Good enough to kind of stick in my mind for a week but beyond that…meh. This little article will spoil the ending for you, though, so don’t read it if you intend to stubbornly waste your own time by watching the thing for yourself. Which I would assume you would only do if you have some sort of crush on that Bradley guy who stars in the movie.
Here’s my issue that I’ve been griping about ever since. Actually I’ve been griping about it since about ten minutes into the movie when I turned to my husband and let fly with the Inaugural Gripe.
Let’s say you take a drug that gives you a ‘four-digit IQ’ and turns you into a person who can profit in a down market through pattern recognition, a person who can write a novel in four days that is better than Karen Kingsbury. (Yes, I’m still stuck on her “I write a book in ten days” thing.) In short, this drug makes you super-duper-uber smart.
WOULDN’T YOUR FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS BE TO SOMEHOW SECURE AN ENDLESS SUPPLY OF THE DRUG?
Look, I don’t want to brag, but I’ve got a fairly high IQ. I say this to explain that even though it isn’t ‘four digits’ like the dude in the movie, the three digits I do have are not all the lowest integers in the pile. And I can assure you that when there is something I need to function–Methotrexate and Tramadol and Phenergan and Folic Acid, just for an instance–making sure I have those things, or a way to get those things is pretty much always at the top of my to-do list.
So this whole movie is basically a story of the handful of people who’ve had this miracle brain-opening drug chasing around to steal more from the other people who might or might not have a stash of it. There is a lot of running and shooting and cross and double-cross.
The smart thing, of course, is to find a chemist who can reverse-engineer the drug. But do these super uber smart people do this? No. Not until the very end after they’ve laid waste to half of New York City with their shenanigans and gunplay.
So I call shenanigans.
Also, if you want to convince people you’re sexy, you do not do that by lapping up someone else’s blood off the floor. Just sayin’.