I can’t be the only gal in town who harbors a…lack of like (?) for the be-muscled Matthew McConaughey. Don’t get me wrong — I like a well-toned set of pecs as much as the next person. But I’ve never been one for the male bimbo look, especially when (as the folks at Defamer reported) said male bimbo bares his, ahem, “peen” (to quote my esteemed colleague Michael Slezak), while playing the didgeridoo. (I remember that guy from the campus quad at college, and it’s not something I need to see ever again, even under the guise of farce.) So, IMHO, even though my colleague Nicole Sperling makes a perfectly reasoned argument that the film tanked due to lack of interest, no distribution, and a dismal Metacritic score, my feeling is that, at least in Matthew McConaughey’s* case, some jewels are best wrapped up and left under the tree.
Feel free to disagree, of course — I’m guessing some of you will. But let me ask: Would you, or have you, ever seen a film just because your favorite actor reveals more than his or her prodigious acting talents?
*Extra points deducted for the impossible spelling of his last name.
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