Four of Them

-A pet with an identity crisis (Johnny Depp) gets lost in the desert, meeting up with a town desperate for (uh) a hero. And junk.

-First, let me tell of my experience seeing this business. It was, see, a Tuesday afternoon. It was awesome. The theatre was empty, and me and my sister motherfucking danced up the aisles, chatted with the imaginary projectionist (our theatre, like all the others, have switched to digital), hurled abuse at the too-easy trivia quizzes, provided running commentary for the trailers, but then, of course, some people showed up and we were stuck being normal patrons. My ass.

-On to the show. This was the weirdest kids' movie I've ever seen (in these watered-down days, anyway). Everything's covered in a coating of beautiful, beautiful grime, there's all sorts of exisential angst, people get killed and hardcore-threatened and there's some sirens following our Hero Rango.

-Speaking of, he's not terribly likable. A cowardly asshole at the worst of times, he, of course, redeems himself, but I kind of wanted to throttle the little shit. Depp switches from Kermit-voiced vaudville to mumbling wisecracks in some alright voice work. Isla Fisher is the love interest, a BAMF farmgirl, Ned Beatty is a slightly less molesty version of the John Huston character in Chinatown (complete with a water control plot), some other people are some other things.

-We're running out of water, bro. Shit.

-HOLY MOTHERFUCKER, know who shows up? Hunter S. Thompsan and Dr. Gonzo? Yeah. The Man With No Name? Fuck yeah. My life is complete.