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Over the course of one evening, a group of impossibly attractive 20-somethings find themselves bombarded and then must dodge a series of man-made and natural disasters. Prepare for earthshaking hilarity as the world's very survival is put in the hands of three buxom non-brainiacs.
Rushed into production with no better drape for its threadbare gags than Cloverfield, this carpet-fouling mongrel of a movie no more deserves release than do anthrax spores.
Depressingly, these magpie parodies are so cheap to produce they can't fail to make money -- which probably means this interminable franchise is far from over.
This might have been edited down to 20 minutes of entertaining film. Maybe one day the team involved will start employing editors and produce something we can all look forward to.
There's no nice way to say this, so I'll just say it: Writer/directors Friedberg and Seltzer are a scourge. They're a plague on our cinematic landscape, a national shame, a danger to our culture.
The pomposity of big-budget B-movies can certainly be taken down a notch, but Friedberg and Seltzer rely too much on trailer moments for their broad comedy.