Plans to attend the Dragonball Evolution premiere were inscribed in stone long before its release. It was engraved into our very souls the moment it was announced, perhaps even long before, since we always knew the day would come. I say "we" and "our" because I was not alone on this quest. I was accompanied by my comrade Charles, a man equally deranged as I. We were destined to see Dragonball Evolution. We had to see it. It felt almost like it was our duty to see it, after being obsessed with the cartoon as kids. We had high hopes for the film. We were certain it wouldn't disappoint, and do the cartoon complete justice, not pausing to consider that maybe the source material is a little weird and kinda shitty. Watching the trailer only increased our hype for the film. If while watching your nipples don't experience tumescence to the point where it's physically possible to grate cheese with them, you're either a little weird, or you're lying.
... stop lying. Sweet jesus, look at those dislikes.
We had planned to neglect our education and catch the premiere during the day on a friday, where no one we knew would see us. But we discovered that the theater we chose refused to play it in their theaters, and it became clear that we could not enshroud our intent to see Dragonball Evolution. We began our journey later in the evening to the larger movie theater under the faint cover of darkness... in my mother's baby blue car. Yes only hierarchs of society are worthy enough to bare witness to Dragonball Evolution. Despite our excitement, our paranoia held no disguise when we arrived at the theater. We were certain someone we knew would spot us, and instituting a conversation in a movie theater leads to the inevitable question, "what are you seeing?" There would be no way to explain our intent to them. They wouldn't understand. We would be lauded as outcasts, and probably called homosexuals.
Luckily, no one we knew was at the theater. However, the theater was still crawling with people. We were careful not to speak of Dragonball Evolution out loud, and instead referred to it as DBE. We approached the front of the line. There sat a lady who asked me the question, "what can I do for you?" There was no escape from this, so I spoke the words, "I would like one ticket to Dragonball Evolution, please." I tried to fight it, but I burst out laughing before I even finished what I was saying. Telling another human being that I was seeking entertainment from Dragonball Evolution, that I was willing to spend hard earned money on it was absurd. Her reaction made it apparent that she was thinking the same thing. All became quiet, and she just stared at me, disturbed and confused, "... really?" "Yes", I replied.
We walked into theater eleven, expecting to see a mass of avid Dragonball fans, maybe even one or two in Goku costumes. We saw nine people. They were all so mysterious. Who were these people? The only ones I could understand were the two kids who dragged their poor mother along to see it with them. More people entered the theater after us after we'd found our seats, and we reached a final head count of thirteen, including us. Dragonball Evolution was within our grasp.
The lights began to dim. We could scarcely believe it. Dragonball Evolution was here, there was no turning back now. Within moments, Justin Chatwin as Goku, in an effort to make everyone in the audience instantly regret wasting money on a ticket, humiliated everyone by gritting his teeth and "grring" at us. Soon it was James Marsters turn to degrade and mortify us. I don't even remember exactly what he did. I think mostly he just looked like an idiot. If you're wondering why James Marsters sounds familiar, that's because he's Spike from Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Now he plays the part of Piccolo, and he's gonna chew your tits off.
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| The shit he was taking in this picture must have been biblical |
In films where the protagonist still gets random erections in class and has difficulty speaking to women, all you have to do is wait for the unavoidable fight scene with the school douchebag(s). So Justin Chatwin is invited to a party by the hottest bitch ever, and sure enough, upon his arrival to the party, Justin Chatwin got his chance to impress the girl and give those bullies at his school the beatdown, who are naturally at the party, and of course hate Justin Chatwin for no reason, which is actually fairly impressive bully profiling. It may have been ok if it wasn't the most embarrassingly choreographed fight scene I've ever seen. It was the last straw for the man who sat in the back of the theatre, who came to see Dragonball Evolution by himself. He couldn't take that shit anymore, and he got out. Soon after, Chow Yun-Fat as Master Roshi was introduced to us. The camera zoomed in close enough to his face to reveal that he was stoned right the fuck off his balls.
I suspect he needed to be for the entire course of filming to keep himself from committing suicide. This is when three more people left the theater, the woman I mentioned earlier with her two children, now desperate to get them out of there. I'm amazed she had the presence of mind to get her children out with her. She got up so quickly you'd think the theater somehow caught fire. Our ranks were now diminished back to the original nine, all of us determined to make it to the end without suffering haemolacria. The couple that decided a romantic evening of Dragonball Evolution was just the thing their relationship needed could have been having sex in the corner and no one would have noticed.
There are only minor things I can tell you after that. Charles and I turning to each other at the same time at the sight of Joon Park and his enormous, inexplicable drill (an actual drill, not his penis. I know, it doesn't make any sense) and saying, "oh no, is that Yamcha?" The Kamehameha Wave is no longer a giant energy beam of blood murder anymore, but is instead used to light candles and make out with hot Chinese ass, which I can't really argue against, come to think of it. The end fight is easily the most uncomfortable thing I've ever watched, and also, Jamie Chung is the goddamn hottest spank ass bitch ever.
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| GodDAMN |
The only question remains, how did the world respond? It scored a 3.3 out of 10 on IMDB. From the thirty seconds I spent researching the matter, it appears Dragonball Evolution has grossed a total of $13,000,000 worldwide, which is laughable and downright embarrassing. There are dozens of websites that exist solely to insure that a sequel is unthinkable. There is a veritable armada of YouTube users, begging you to sign petitions to cease the possibility of a sequel. We know that people behind Dragonball Evolution were intent on releasing a sequel as well, because Charles and I stayed for after the credits (which were two minutes long). After everyone got out of there, we stayed, and watched five seconds of James Marsters in bed, getting his head patted down with a damp cloth by some unknown woman. Oh NO.
It's been weeks since that day, and now I must conjur an opinion on the movie. It doesn't matter how many negative things I, or anybody else says about it. I know I'm going to buy this movie when it comes out, and I know I'm going to watch it again. I also know exactly why Justin Chatwin agreed to playing Goku. Not for his love of the cartoon, but:
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| Sweet, beautiful jesus |
You are forgiven, Justin Chatwin. Movie of the fucking year.
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