Miserably dull, hopelessly bad taste...grow up Quentin!

Rating: 1/10 (23 May 2004)

I suppose that with rewrites from an actual writer, this material may have congrued into a cohesive and useful story -- blending action and drama; however the two have been crudely separated, with the first film stuffing reels of comic book fake action play, and this second film little more than insipid, manipulative melodrama that would better find its home on daytime soap.
Scene after scene represents an insult to good taste, with children manipulated and threatened by soulless creeps, and vast acts of cheap thrill-kill sadism. A scene from Tarantino's Dusk to Dawn comes to mind, where he plays a psychopath that kills young women: the scene contributes in no way to the plot, the writer simply appears on screen, commits a grotesque act, looks pleased (and aroused) by it. That scene seems to be an accurate summation of Tarantino's muse or the man himself. When unfettered by actual writers, he is given over to gluttonous indulgence of sadism, supposedly as...entertainment?
Wrestling Fans Only -- that should have been printed in bright red letters across the movie posters of these silly, callow films. Any adult viewer ought to be insulted. Each scene requests we lower our standards a bit more, accept less, permit more poorly acted, terribly written, implausible drivel. This is below the level of freak show material, below the worst Stephen King horror film.
Banal, trite, pedestrian...ridiculous! Do yourself a favour and do something creative...finger puppets, lip-syncing, sleeping, anything...I promise you, you can find something more entertaining and stimulating than this mess. A disgrace. Grow up Quentin. You know better.