Why I Love Pajiba reviews.. the short answer:
Where else are you going to read/hear a review like this:
But Crank actually offers an appropriate ending to the 2006 summer season: It comes in with no expectations, no pretensions, no star wattage, zero character development, not an iota of intelligence, absolutely no fucking plot, and an originality quotient in the negative numbers. Yet, for a lack of better phraseology, Cranks kicks some sweet, sweet ass. No kidding. Just when you think you’re taking one for the movie-critic team, Jason Statham seemingly walks straight out of an amphetamine brothel and provides a cinematic high no less gratifying than Michael Hutchence’s final autoerotic seconds, squeezing every last bit of energy out of its premise and leaving you limp and gasping for air.
Damn! If I’m lucky I crank out a paragraph like this once a month… after pots of coffee, a couple beers. Usually, though, that combination just leaves me twitchy and sleepy at the same time.. unable to type a correctly spelled monosyllabic word.
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