I think it was – or at least we think – that Thales (Greek guy) (you remember him right) was the first one to ever ask “If you were to meet another you, would you go ahead and just fucking kill your copy or go make out with it like some horny teen version of yourself?” He is said to have also said “Look, how do you think we cook your fucking octopus, you Greek bastards? Zeus ain’t up there shitting out fire.” (Or something) (Well, without doing the math, some 2,000 years later (or so) +1 tries to answer that question for us but I’ll get to that later. You see, in this fucking movie, a comet sneaks it’s way through our atmosphere and deposits some sort of meteorite into the ground of some youths’ neighborhood and it gets into the electricity to some youth’s mansion that’s covered with (I think) 100,000 lightbulbs for a giant party. While everyone is hot and skinny and grinding in their bikinis and showing off their navels and cheeks (and boobs) to obnoxious, loud music, the, i guess, conducive alien thing makes a copy of them. mm hm.
We’ll get into that too but I did want to say that, if you’re looking at that alluring poster I stuck at the top of this post, if you find that kind of thing alluring, there’s nothing that exciting going on in this one unless you like seeing a naked girl slap around some guy while she’s banging him. I’m surprised she didn’t stick a candlestick up his rectum and call him a lambchop or something that’s about how that scene went. Twice. Because of the copies.
This movie starts off with a character played by an actor I don’t particularly like showing up at his estranged girlfriend’s fencing tournament. Fencing, huh. Somehow he kisses the wrong broad on the mouth right in front of her and he’s really into deep shit. Later, before the big year end rager at that lightbulb covered mansion I mentioned, something falls from the sky and no one notices it or cares and it shoots up an electrical pole. OK mm-huh. At the party, everyone is thin and good looking and the fat guy has half his head shaved and they do keg stands and there’s a naked asian lady with food on her tits (and incredibly hairy privates) as the buffet and they volley flaming tennis balls around the million dollar living room and the nerd guy bangs the hot chick while she slaps him around and calls him porkpie or something and the moody guy from the beginning moons over the fencing girl and then the lights flicker and suddenly there’s two of everyone except the new ones are about 15 minutes behind in time for some reason.
Note: except for the one copy person who shows up real time and kills the original right there in front of the house. Oh yeah – and the moody, mopey guy has a friend who’s a moody, mopey girl who doesn’t like parties but is at the big party anyway. Nerdy guy who just got laid notices that every time the lights flicker the copies of people get closer in time and they surmise they’re all in big fucking danger because the one copy who wasn’t behind in time killed the one guy out in front of the house. Makes sense I guess. Or not.
SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO – here we are. An object from space that no one notices hits the Earth and travels via electric wires to an immense and Pillars of Heaven Crashingly loud party that no one notices and creates doubles of people that are fifteen minutes behind and closing fast (except for that one guy who killed himself). Now – what do you do when someone tells you what’s happening? Do you decide to A) make out with yourself B) try to make up with a copy of your girlfriend because you fucked up by kissing some other broad on the lips right in front of her C) try and violently murder the ‘other you’?
First – if I was ever sitting there – note, I wouldn’t be dancing and gyrating – and I saw myself walk in I would probably be all “Hey man, Want a beer?” or “Want to hang?” or “God damn this is strong weed, want a beer and hang?” Here’s an aside and a true story:
The Sperm Depositor who deposited Seed inside My Creator, Easy Rider-ed it off into the sunset when I was one (or so). Feeling guilty, his Creator would look after me on weekends and other miscellaneous weeks when My Creator was out looking for A Guardian who would provide Money and Food and Safe Haven to Her Birthed Egg while she was out doing things that Creators did before Their Egg was Fertilized and Fully Emerged. The Sperm Donor’s Creator had also a Depositor who Fled when the concept of Money and Food and Safe Haven were revealed – allegedly to a place called New Mexico. There, that Sperm Depositor deposited Seed to which, My Creator’s Sperm Depositor’s Creator discovered this Act and reconciled with That Creator in New Mexico.
Here’s a quick graphic to catch you up:
At one point when I was in college, back in the early 90s, I don’t remember what I was doing in My Creator’s off limits bedroom (probably stealing cigarettes) but I saw a picture of me on her nightstand but I had absolutely NO IDEA when I took that thing. At some point around then I asked her where she got that picture of me and she responded with something like: “OH that’s [NAME REDACTED]’s dad’s kid. He looks a lot like you, huh. You should really go meet him” in My Creator’s own way of telling me things I should do without giving it any sense of realistic thought to what that might do to me or the logistics of randomly travelling around New Mexico looking for people I don’t know.
So I gave that as much thought as I would thirty years in the future when she thought she found my Sperm Depositor on Facebook and that he had died and I should go call his widow and see what he died from.
The point of that long winded, hovering stench of writing is that I have actually considered that there’s someone running around out there that looks like me and if I ever ran into him I’d see if he wants to grab a beer and hang because I’m not one of those coffee drinkers.
But that’s not what happens in +1. In +1, the majority of them decide it’s best to just violently murder the other ones.
It really made no goddammed fucking sense. It seemed to me like someone saw the IMMENSELY superior Coherence and wanted to copy it and throw in some dancing, skinny people with their tops off to grab onto that Superbad crowd. And then toss in some murderin’ for the fuck of it. Whatever. This was certainly not one of my favorite movies.
FILED UNDER: CRAP