Directed by Johathan Dueck
Distributed by Peace Arch Entertainment
A struggling/failed/burnt-out/mentally unstable writer has been given the task to compose a film script in a very short amount of time. To accomplish this he has locked himself away inside an apartment to drown out the distractions. During these lonely times James Van Der Beek slowly drifts into madness as a disfigured hobo clown from his past invades his revenge and sexual fantasies. Can fiction become fatal?
James Van Der Beek doesn’t belong in horror movies, he belongs on stale television shows and the movies made to only air there. He has no range, depth or even the slightest air of sympathy that an actor should radiate when portraying a depressed and breaking individual. Slapping a beard, glasses and a Bohemian attitude on a person doesn’t make them a struggling artist. No, that sort of thing makes them a smelly hippy who cannot cope with the real world. Shit, I was surprised a bottle of absinthe and a copy of Moulin Rouge weren’t sitting around the set. He did have Starbucks, though. Is that what the new Bohemians are doing these days?
Let me just save you all some time right here; the clown isn’t real. Final Draft attempts to break the boundries between the mental breakdown of a failed writer and reality, but in the end we just get one giant, boring, tame mind fuck that can’t even decide if it is trying to be funny or serious. We’re teased with gore and nudity (oh, the nipples are covered up with what looks like white pasties on a chick who sports a tan) and get the cop-out ending most films of this ilk use to tie up all loose ends.
That’s not to say movies of this nature are bad, but we the fate of almost everyone is broadcast on such a wide wave that it just becomes a matter of time before our predictions are realized. For fuck’s sake, the people who get off’d are all figments of the writer’s mind! How the hell do you create suspense with that kind of bullshit?!
If a filmmaker wastes your money and life on a pity party flick, do you really think we’d want to watch the special features? Screw that. Thanks for the “making-of” and some strange music video about a chick in a Wal*Mart, but there’s a hammer and a nail with my cock’s name on it. If you sent me some lime juice or salt it may make up for Final Draft.
If you’re into clowns then the few fleeting moments that feature the burnt up jester may be worth a quick rental, but don’t expect a balls out slasher featuring him as the main villain. That would mean the filmmakers would have had to cut back the angst. Some stories should never be written and Final Draft was one that should have stayed back that way.
1 out of 5
1 out 5
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