Freddy Got Fingered

Name me a Tom Green film that came out in the last 10 years. You can’t, can you? Civilised society wins again.

The Partially Educated Review

And on the 8th day, Satan created Tom Green

In 50 Words or Less: Tom Green masturbates a horse. If that sells it to you, suffer through this. You deserve it.

In Detail: Goes to find that “flogging a dead horse” GIF.

There we go. It’s a gracious mercy that Tom Green has always been fairly well ignored over here in England. I remember The Tom Green Show first arriving over here and the palpable sense of indifference that came with it. Proof, if needed, that England has excellent taste when it comes to television shows.

Oh, sod off. This lack of care changed a bit when Freddy Got Fingered arrived, with a lot of interest suddenly appearing from teenage boys who gave the instant stamp of approval to anything remotely scatological. Usually, I was one of those teenage boys and yet, at at time when I liked most films that I was too young to watch, Freddy Got Fingered became one of the two main films that taught me how to hate my television screen. The other one?

It’s a charming tale of a man who wants to follow his dreams of being a professional animator. A man who, along the way, masturbates a horse, accuses his father of sexually molesting his younger brother (oops, sorry, spoilers) and swings a newborn baby around by it’s umbilical cord. Amongst other things.

Ordinarily, when a film is this bad, it involves having to root out the blame. You need to be fair, you need to make sure that everyone is held accountable for their actions. The writer, the director, the star. They must all share blame if it is there to be equally shared. Oh wait, Green is all of those things. This one’s for you, mate!

Now, I’m happy to accept that this sort of reaction may be precisely what Green wanted. There is enough in this film to suggest that Green was wanting to make himself into a real-life Max Bialystock, taking the notoriety that came with it and the ability to say: “at least I’m remembered for something”. Which is a mentality I just don’t get. Anyone can make themselves remembered. Tomorrow, I could go commando, walk into work and drop my chinos and I can guarantee that image is getting etched into everyone’s brain for all time. If anyone I work with is reading this, don’t worry, I’m not going to do it.

He’s failed though. Not at making a bad film. No way. This is a film so bad that if someone put a gun to my head and gave me the option of watching this one more time or only being able to listen to Mika for the rest of my life, I’d definitely want some time to think about it. Actually, imagine that. Imagine that the only thing you can hear for the rest of your miserable existence is THIS…

It’s not half as offensive as it’s trying to be though (the film, not Mika. Mika is very offensive). Mainly because it’s all so laughably transparent. Any initial wincing or grimacing that you may feel will go away fast, followed by the bleak, harrowing realisation that you just spent 87 minutes of your life watching celluloid dreams die. Those 87 minutes aren’t coming back. They’re gone. Lost. Wasted. And Tom Green has managed to make just as much of an impression on your life (be it good or bad) as a fart on the other side of the world.

ONE out of 10