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Better Here Than in Connecticut?

  Crescent Blues Movie Views

Editor's Note: Crescent Blues regular Jennifer Matarese may be vacating her reviewer's chair for a little while. For some reason, a September 8 showing of Highlander: Endgame at a local cineplex precipitated a small emotional…event. After Jennifer decapitated several rows of empty seats with a katana assembled from duct-taped plastic nacho trays, some very nice gentlemen driving a padded N.Y. Coroner's Department van whisked her away to a private facility at an unspecified site in Connecticut. Although Jennifer failed to submit her promised review of Highlander: Endgame, we feel the following letters (found among the few effects the coroners left behind) speak volumes about the movie.

Dear Highlander writers,
     Do you even read the scripts you write? Or do you construct them the same way that terrorists make ransom notes?

Dear Powers That Be in the Highlander world,
     Were you born that stupid or did it require practice? Was there some ganga and a lobotomy involved? 'Cause I'm curious.
     Why don't you listen to us?
     You heard me. Us -- as in, the fans. The people who know their stuff and love the Highlander universe. You don't listen to what we think -- if you even cared, you would've given us a Methos: The Series a looooong time ago. Instead you come out with reprocessed crap like Highlander: Endgame.
     First off, you did this plot before on Highlander: the Series. Duncan (Adrian Paul) and Connor (Christopher Lambert, who wore pancake batter on his face for this movie) got together to fight a common foe in the pilot episode.
Common foe runs a gang of young immortal idiots to do his dirty work -- you did that one, too. Duncan needs to appease an old significant other he pissed off -- try every episode!
Which is weird, because after throwing together a bunch of pre-processed plot elements, you didn't pay much attention to detail. Hey, geniuses, Duncan never married. You can't just cover up your stupidity by saying it's an alternate universe. It doesn't work that way. And you can't make us fans happy by putting Methos (Peter Wingfield) and Joe (Jim Byrnes) in the movie for all of six minutes.
I can't believe you people. We pay your bills, you know. Really. Because we watch your show and go to your movie, you get paid. Which means that if you keep feeding us this crap, you don't get paid.
Listen to us.
We want Methos. We want him now. We do not want some ex-model with a bad haircut or some lame villain whose idea of smart decorating is a white room where he can decapitate people.
Methos needs his own show. Give it to him, and you might actually be able to feed your kids next year.

Dear Peter Wingfield,
I'm working on it, I swear. See? Another crappy movie like this, and I'm sending the IRS after the writers. You in on it? If it's half as much fun as I think it'll be, we can follow it up with some Strip-O-Grams and bags of burning dog crap on their porches.

Dear rabid Highlander fans who actually liked Highlander: Endgame,
Don't make me hit you.

Dear Christopher Lambert,
Stop acting!

Dear Adrian Paul,
Buy a better toupee. I'm begging here.

Dear Villain-Whose-Name-Escapes-Me,
Stop chewing scenery. It's bad for the digestive track.

Dear Bimbo-of-the-Moment,
Stop letting a four-year-old cut your hair.

Oh, and I almost forgot…

Dear Bleached Blonde Flunkie,
Shaving your goatee into funny shapes does not make you a Backstreet Boy. Sorry, but it doesn't.

Jennifer Matarese

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