Hola all. Massawyrm here.

You know, a few weeks ago I was over at Harry’s for his Super Bowl party. He had a killer spread. Chips & Queso, beer, a Twelver of Dr. Pepper with my name on it and Father Geek had even cooked up some magnificent brisket wrapped in bacon to be served with sausage and baked beans. The place was wall-to-wall AICNers and we were arguing over commercials, hollering about plays and dropping almost as many film references as the Bears were dropping passes. Then the commercial for Wild Hogs came on and the room got eerily quiet. For a moment.

Then the heckling began – and oh how it began. There was laughter, comments about bleeding eyes, noses and rectums and of course the inevitable discussion of the theoretical anomalies created by two black holes of comedy existing within each other’s event horizon. Hell, Harry was there, so I’m sure even his balls were mentioned at some point. Then Sister Satan looked over at me and asked “Wyrm, don’t you have anything to say about that?” I looked at her, furrowed my brow and bellowed “Laugh it up, Fuzzballs. But I’m the mother fucker that actually has to sit through it.” An explosion of laughter. A few pats on the back for support. Then I heard the dreaded high pitched giggle of the fat man behind me. I swear to God, when they finally take me away and throw me in that padded cell, I’ll be making that very same giggle.

That giggle came back to haunt me tonight as I sat down to finally watch this thing. Because I was reminded of that room, that heckling. And guess what? I was the only person in that room to show up tonight. And yet, I can still tell you what every person in that room’s reaction would have been to it.

Look. If that room sounds like your kind of place, if you could readily identify who I was referring to when I mentioned two different black holes of comedy and if your asshole puckers up as if someone had uttered the words “Uwe Boll somehow got the rights to The Hobbit” every time you see the trailer or TV spot for this, then let me tell you now. THIS MOVIE IS NOT FOR YOU. Hell, this movie wasn’t even for me.

But it is for my mom. And probably your mom. You see, never before have I seen a film so succinctly marketed, that knows its audience so well and yet isn’t targeted at some small demographic or group like us geeks, but instead is targeted right at the very heart of middle America. Imagine the best geek aimed films you’ve ever seen. Films chock full of cameos that don’t bother to explain themselves – you know, like Miike in Hostel or Tom Savini of Dawn of the Dead – then imagine jokes geared towards the type of humor that gets you howling. Then, just to top it off, add in a pair of your favorite comedians, the hunky A-List actor you’ve been dreaming about/wishing you were since 1977 and then round that out with one of the best character actors alive.

Now imagine that instead of making that movie for you – someone tried to make it for your mom. That’s Wild Hogs. I mean, if you’re the type of person that will laugh at Ty from Extreme Makeover Home Edition showing up to rebuild one of the characters homes, then this movie is for you. If you think a Biker movie isn’t complete without an appearance by both Peter Fonda and the American Chopper guys, then this movie is for you. And if nothing gets you rolling in the aisles like good old fashion Mr. Roper/Jack Tripper sexual misunderstanding gay innuendo – then this movie is DEFINITELY for you. And on that level, every joke works. Hell, the audience in the packed theatre I was in was positively in hysterics. I couldn’t hear moments of dialog over the laughter.

This thing was scientifically engineered to be the Bread Basket’s favorite comedy of the year. I mean for Christ’s sake, Marisa Tomei is the romantic lead. No. I’m not kidding. The women next to me went apeshit. Wait! Who is that? That’s Marisa Tomei. Oh! I love her! Hell, during the Extreme Makeover gag, members of the audience all knew when to scream “Move that bus!” And they did.

This film knows its audience. This film is a crowd pleaser. And if you read this site with any regularity whatsoever, then this movie is absolutely, positively NOT FOR YOU. But you already know that. You saw the trailer for this, uttered the words No, fuck no and I’m here to tell you that you’re right. Just be ready for when your mom tells you how much fun it is. And no, you shouldn’t trust her. Just smile and nod.

That said, if for some reason you get roped into this, it won’t kill you. It’s cute and its heart is in the right place. It gets kind of depressing at times when you realize that there isn’t a single actor in the film that you haven’t seen in a movie ten times better than what you’re watching. Not one. Yes, even Martin Lawrence. But I have to admit there were some giggles and a smile or two – and hell, it only has one shot to the balls in the whole film, which makes it 57 times less base and bottom dwelling as Little Man. Sure, it’s playing to the cheap seats – just not the cheap, cheap seats. It aims low, but never rolls into the gutter.

So really, what I’m trying to tell you is no, you probably won’t want to see this, but it is probably an inevitability. It’ll be on at your sister’s house, or on cable, or back to back on TNT with Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man. So be ready. It’s gonna be bigger than you want it to and you’ll stumble across it eventually. It ain’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen – hell, it ain’t even the worst motorcycle movie with an appearance by Peter Fonda that I’ve seen in the last week. But I’ll never watch it again. And I can’t recommend it to you.

I will however call my Mom first thing in the morning and tell her to buy tickets for herself and my dad. They’re gonna love the living shit out of this thing.

Until next time friends, smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.

Massawyrm

See Harry – I told you I would fucking see it. Now stop giggling, you bastard. Everyone else can e-mail me here.