Muffin Bending

You see this here? This poster? This is pretty cool you might say. You might say this poster fills you with hopes and aspirations for a movie capable of living up to the amazing series it claims to be based on. If you would say this, or anything, even a negative something in a somewhat positive tone, you would be wrong. So wrong that not only would you feel the sting of regret burning in your wallet for spending money to be exposed to this travestry, but your children's-childrend's-children would wake up every morning wondering why their corneas were burning with the heat of ten-thousand O-class stars.

The Last Airbender is a cinematic tumor created by carcinogen M. Night Shyamalan. Technically, the abomination's name was originally to be the same as the absolutely fantastic series created by Nickelodion: Avatar: The Last Airbender, but that got screwed out when space Pocahontas rolled through on her glowing planet of sex-addicts (seriously, they "plugged-in" to like, every freakin' animal on the planet...that's just creepy) and took the first part of the title away from Shyamalan.

As I went to watch this puss-filled boil, my hopes were low. I had followed Avatar from beginning to end and was incredibly pessimistic about the movie living up to the series. And it's good I did so, otherwise I may have begun to choke the individual sitting in front of me in the theater, all the while thinking I was doing the honorable thing by putting them out of their misery.

The first painful thorn in my kidney were the actors. They weren't actors. They were about as good at acting as 120-proof vodka is at soothing a ruptured hemroid. Either emotionless or bipolar, they seemed to have no idea how to portray the potentially deep and compelling emotions they were supposed to be feeling; coming across as cardboard cut-outs I wanted to set on fire; savoring their transformation into ashes. The only one I would leave not-on-fire would be Shaun Toub, who (despite not being large enough around the waist) did a decent job of portraying Uncle Iroh. I'm sure he could have been better, had he not been surrounded by paste-eating retards.

The other iron stake slowly making its way through my pancreas was the story. Shyamalan decided to sum up a twenty-some episode season within 103 minutes. This did not go well. Major plot points were quickly skimmed over, while minor ones seemed to be over-emphasized. The movie felt rushed, incomplete, and left me guessing that, without having seen the series before-hand, I would have no idea what in the fire bending was going on.

And here we find the final splinter in my brain, the details. Shyamalan decided to take most of the wonderful details, chain them to a radiator in the basement, and forget about them. Here are the major ones I had issues with (I'd say spoiler alert, but I hope I've convinced you seeing this movie will shorten your life span): Firebenders cannot create fire from their fists (except for Iroh, who is apparently stronger than the fire-lord); The entire Fire Nation is Indian, and they all were missing their chops; Aang's name was pronounced Oong, in addition to the mispronunciation of every other name...oh, how I could go on and on and on. And you know what Shyamalan? If you're going to drown a character in a floating sphere of water...I mean, kill him; I think it would have been okay to let Oong use that GIANT BLOODY TSUNAMI TO ACTUALLY FREAKING WIPE OUT THE FLEET KILLING INNOCENT CIVILIANS!!!???

Shyamalan, I hope you implode.

> EpicError