The first thing you need to do is ignore any positive review of this film. There is no doubt in my mind that most if not all of these were written by persons connected with the film in some way. This movie is utterly AWFUL!
Now, I cannot deny that Christopher Landon and Scott Lobdell are meekly innovative in unraveling this tale, but this is not enough to save the film. Sure, Happy Death Day will be able to score numerous jumps on people who don't watch horror movies for a living, but how hard is that.
Sorry, I'm not trying to be condescending to anyone. I pride myself on my stolid nature, and I have little in the way of a life. I assume that you do, and it is my hope in writing this that I may prevent your wasting time and money in the name of Happy Death Day. You see, I'm much like many of you. I slave day in and day out beneath the yoke of mundane tasks simply so that I can continue to do so. When the week ends, I need the escape that the cinema often provides. When the escape is inadequate, I take it personally. In the case of Happy Death Day, I found myself wanting to escape the very showing of the film itself. Sure, I could have left, counted my loss and been a better man for it, but I persisted. Why? I did it for you. In theory, I wasted my time so you will not. Please, do not render my sacrifice vain. If you must see something, theaters usually boast many options. I guarantee that Happy Death Day is the worst option that exists at the present time, at least in my town.
Happy Death Day is peppered with characters that do naught but remind me of people I hated in college, or, at least, ½ dimensional cardboard cutouts of those people. Jessica Rothe's protagonist, Tree, is thoroughly unlikeable from beginning to end, even after she undergoes her Hallmark-esque epiphany. I hope I didn't spoil the obvious. In any case, Rothe's performance is utterly forgettable, and, in my opinion, Landon could probably have replaced her with any mildly attractive barista in the region and achieved the same result if not better. Not only did I want to strangle Tree every time she opened her mouth, but I also wanted to strangle myself for buying the seat.
Perhaps you wonder why I did not go into specifics. There really are no specifics, it's just bad, there was nothing good. It's a roller coaster ride, but not a good one; it was like one of those traveling midway coasters that give you whiplash and have you fearing for your life. I was waiting for Scooby, Shaggy and the gang to pull up in the Mystery Machine and help Tree discover who's killing her. THAT would have made for a better film. Plus, if you are intent on seeing it, who am I to spoil it.
Lastly, when did a female's bare upper back begin to qualify as partial nudity? Did I miss something? I guess, technically, they're not lying, bare skin is nude skin, but, for those of you who might have been hoping for something more pulse inducing, there's nothing for you on this front either.
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