Seriously Unclear: “Cerius” Hits all the Wrong Points
by Larry Fishwick, PhD.
Cerius * (that star represents one-tenth of one-tenth of one star)
I try and approach each and every review the same way: with my palate clear. Much like you would nibble on a piece of ginger before moving on to your next piece of Sushi, before I approach a review of a film, I give it time. I allow it to breathe. And then, god willing, I expose the piece of shit for what it really is.
This is how I should begin each review (although, hate mail being what it is, I can’t imagine this would slow down the vitriol that slides under the door every week).
Now that that’s out of the way, allow me to explain why neither you nor your most vile enemy should partake of Terry Spellman’s latest. The plot:
Cerius’ protagonist, a wiry, toad-looking putrid pile of filth (played perfectly, if you enjoy overacting, spittle, and middle-school plays, by veteran plagiarist Tom McNorfeld) is injured during a routine forklift maneuver and left with half an arm and a stump. What follows is a two-and-a-half hour meditation on loneliness and isolation that unfortunately reads more like a day-in-the-life of a McDonald’s hamburger pusher. McNorfeld stumbles through the role like mayonnaise on a pb&j.
The only other character worth describing in this film is his nemesis, mother-in-law “Debbie” (played with appalling flatness by Judell Watson) who spends her time on screen eating hoagies and spitting sad, pathetic insults at her son-in-law. Watson makes me wish I had stigmata in both my eyes.
Shitty acting and bad plot notwithstanding, Spellman does his usual best with the camera work, which is at times interesting, and at times dizzyingly familiar. Someone needs to wake him up behind that thing and while they’re at it never allow him to use a pen and paper ever again.
Bottom line: save your pennies on this one, folks. The popcorn is worth more than the entirety of this madman’s career.
Hate and Hugs.