Rex Reed—who has enjoyed a long and famed career as a film critic thanks to his pleasantly alliterative name—physically lodged his head up his own ass yesterday, sometime after completing his review of horror anthology movie V/H/S 2. Of course, we do not actually know for certain that Reed’s face is currently nestled in the gnarled interior of his own colon, his perpetually aggrieved and haughty breaths echoing off his lower intestinal walls. This is because we decided to walk out on and stop paying any real attention to Rex Reed years ago.
However, we will just presume Rex Reed is now an ass-ouroboros, much as Reed just presumed numerous things about a movie that he “reviewed” after watching a mere 20 minutes of it. Much like Reed, we are very busy and self-involved people, and we have no time to pay attention to these things for very long, or check facts before publishing these articles that are specifically designed as hateful click-bait.
The article in question—which, as we said, Reed wrote sometime before contorting his 74-year-old frame so as to push his cranium fully inside his own rectum—can be read in its entirety below. It was published in the New York Observer under the heading “G/T/F/O: V/H/S 2 Is Unwatchable From Start To Finish,” a period of time that, again, Reed decreed to be “about 20 minutes”:
In this indescribably gory, violent, plotless and deranged purloin of every horror movie ever made by amateurs with a wobbly, nauseating handheld camera, seven unknown directors hell-bent on remaining that way enter a dark, deserted house containing a pile of VHS tapes. One by one, they insert the tapes, and onto the screen flash five [sic] episodic creep shows involving a mountain biker pursued by flesh-eating zombies, a cult of Satan worshipers and a sleepover invaded by psycho kidnappers told from the perspective of a GoPro camera attached to the back of a dog. V/H/S/2 is a diabolically psychotic, sub-mental and completely unwatchable disaster that I happily deserted when a man with a retinal implant scooped out his bionic eye with a sharp object, splattering blood all over the camera. Your move, and you're welcome to it.
As you might expect, Reed’s article has stirred up quite the controversy among other critics, who have raised the question of whether it is a film reviewer’s “job” to actually “watch” the film they’ve been sent to review. Criticwire editor (and A.V. Club contributor) Sam Adams definitely believes it is, calling Reed’s column a “juvenile taunt” that prompts him to ask of Reed, “Is he the worst critic alive, or the worst critic in history? Is he a terrible writer, or a terrible person who happens to write?” Dread Central’s Steve Barton echoes those sentiments while cataloging the numerous factual errors in Reed’s post—from dismissing the directors of The Blair Witch Project and The Raid: Redemption as “unknown and hell-bent on remaining that way,” to pointing out that the scene of “psycho kidnappers” is actually about alien abduction.
In Reed’s defense, however, he would have been required to remain at the screening longer than 20 minutes to glean this information. And, as we’ve surmised, this would have greatly delayed the insertion of his face into his asshole.
Of course, this is just the latest in a long line of Rex Reed articles that have attracted controversy, with some recent examples including a Cabin In The Woods review that somehow both spoiled and completely misinterpreted the ending, and, most famously, his caustic dismissal of Melissa McCarthy as a “tractor-sized hippo.” In those instances, Reed defended his words against McCarthy as merely an expression of concern for the disease of obesity and, just in case, also as an opinion “constitutionally protected by law,” while letting his malformed opinions about Cabin In The Woods fall under the umbrella of his constitutionally protected right to have a lawn free of damn kids.
While the Observer continues to openly taunt his detractors, Reed himself has yet to speak out on this latest brouhaha—again, likely due to our constitutionally protected opinion that he is currently bellowing scabrously witty bon mots into the black depths of his own gastrointestinal system. Again, this is what we presume, based on the limited information we chose to investigate. We also presume that Reed will stay this way, seeing as having his head up his ass will at last relieve him of the awful burden of having to watch any more movies.
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