The end of the world is here.
Random cataclysms and natural disasters have?punished the earth and humanity are all but extinct. But?never fear, Viggo Mortensen survives, and he’s looking to?to get to the coast with his son, except a bloodthirsty gang of rednecks decides to hound him every step of the way. Based on Cormac McCarthy‘s Pulitzer Prize novel, The Road.
With a pistol, two bullets and a handful of possessions, Viggo and?son fight?for a new life in post-apocalyptic America, haunted by visions of his dead wife. Will persistence be enough to survive the empty wilds? Will life be any different on the other side? Watch, and hope.
franni says
I get just sick to my stomach when I read what your reporter ? calls a critics review.
you’re as bad as People magazine, Choosing cute little boys to represent Men.
If this Alex Demoller has even come close to the book by Cormac MacCarthy called the Road, it would sure surprise the heck out of me.
May I suggest Alex put down your toys and go home and read this book.
You’re review is not even close to funny (hahha)
Mr. MacCarthy did not get a Pulitzer prize for this so that some little boy could try to learn how to write criticism.
Hunter says
Franni: You know what makes me, because I’m so self-important of course, sick to my stomach? Self righteous turkey burglars such as yourself. Where do you get off criticising an honest freelancer for his efforts to put food on the table and keep a roof over his head?
Sure, shameless plugging it may be, but at least it encourages you to watch the movie yourself without filling it full of preconceptions so that smug, intelligent and impotent wretches such as yourself can laugh about how intelligent you are as you flirt with a doner kebab shaped trollop in a puddle of your own offal while making references to culture entirely alien to you.
What makes you so much better? I see you doing nothing other than flaunting your own “intelligence” (based upon information freely available in wikipedia) without casting any insights yourself other than the assumption that the author of this short advert has not and should “read this book”. Perhaps, and forgive me if this is too forward, you should “get a life”.
If you’re so damn clever, why have I never seen you writing for the New York Times Book Review, Empire or some other publication? Is it because you have nothing to do all day but sponge off your parents from the luxury of the manor bought for you by your trust fund? Or is it just that your life is so unintelligibly trite that you have nothing better to do than drag others down to your intellectual level in between spates of frantic masturbation and wallowing in fistfuls of your own faeces? Hopefully, the former. Probably the latter. You are a floater in the human gene pool.