Midnight Cowboy
Let's see if I can make it through a critique without barfing or belching...
Now, to be exact, Braveheart and Midnight Cowboy are both movies which I like, but which contain glaring faults within...uh.....oh no.....I think I'm gonna barf...wait for it.....no....I'm.... I'm good. Whew. I thought I was going to hurl there, for a second.
Now where was I? oh yes, the faults. I find that faults are the only cinematic organs that the critic should examine. So from time to time, it will sound like I hate a movie that I......grumble grumble.......whew......actually..... that I actually rather fancied. But rest...assured, this is only because I have only concerned myself with the flaws.
the repugnant subject of street smarts is...... made forward by.... the ....the.... psuedocharismatic Rizzo, who attaches himself like a ......like an affectionate leech, or manner of dog portending its leash to the Midnight Cowboy. A symbol of the....stark vanity of street hustlers,... is that these repugnat individuals insist upon....ooo..... wearing once fine clothes as they trapse about and mingle themselves among correct society, eh?.......eh.....Baaaarffff
uhhhggh....ladies and gentleman, I submit that a good breakfast will truly not be ignored! On that finition, I believe I have said enough on the object of poor Rizzo, and that my barfing expresses anything I may spared him by my forgetfullness. Until, next time, happy watching!
And remember folks, it's not a film till Helgi's seen it!