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One Sentence Movie Reviews: The Last King of Scotland
I’ve decided to start a series of movie reviews where I summarize a film for you in a single sentence and then give that film a score from A+ (wunderbar) though F (don’t bother with this one). Just imagine putting an end to all of those excruciating hours spent in your living room, sitting on your cat urine stained couch, munching stale Dorritos, trying desperately to hear the television while your neighbors argue in the apartment above you! Your time has come, my friend. For now there are one sentence reviews that capture the plot and spirit of the films that you wish to rent. You’ll never need to watch another movie again. And so we begin:
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Fecal Matters
I shit you not- French environmentalists have concocted a way to produce electricity from fermented poop. Cow poop in particular is the environmentalists’ anticipated source of renewable energy, taking into consideration that there are currently 20 million cows in France. It is estimated that with the number of cows in France, the amount of electricity that can come from one cow and with the amount of electricity that the French use in a year, cow poop electricity (or le biogaz) could account for a staggering 1.6% of all French electricity. Of course, biogaz can also come from the poop of other animals. What really makes le biogaz a breakthrough is that it has the potential to eliminate the need for fossil fuels (in the distant future when the process is perfected) in the production of electricity. The poop method emits no carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. But how is this miracle of science possible and from what did these environmentalists get their inspiration? Well I’ll tell you!
Manos: Finger-Lick’n Good
If you have not been privileged enough to bear witness to one of film’s greatest achievements, Manos: The Hands of Fate, then you have not yet lived. Set in a barren Texan desert, this landmark horror film focuses on one family’s zany roadtrip, guided by the sweet caress of fate.
about the author
Rachael Brown Rachael Brown narrowly escaped birth in nineteen hundred and eighty four, only to be born at the onset of nineteen hundred and eighty five.
During her lifetime, Rachael has eaten several Werther's Originals, though the exact quantity is indeterminate. Her level of enjoyment of the average Werther's Original: indifference.
Rachael is afraid that she will soon reach the point of diminishing returns in all things including, though not limited to, candy consumption.