Wednesday February 29th 2012
|As a sort of Todd Philips-ised version of Trash Humpers — a grotesque, anti-narrative compilation of violence, misogyny and destruction — Project X kind of makes sense, or at least it might if it wasn’t so fucking contrived. Unlike Humpers, we’re expected to care about the protagonists at the movie’s centre — remembering their names, identifying with their outcast status and keeping track of which one we’re rooting for to get the girl. All of which is quite hard to accomplish when the script has about six lines of dialogue and most of them are “dude, stop being a fag and help me stuff this midget in the oven”.
The party scenes themselves are an astonishing feat of choreography, documenting a 1000-strong gathering of uniformly repulsive human beings with impressive visual clarity, and putting every cent of the film’s $12million budget right up on the screen. But by comparison, the ‘narrative’ scenes between Project X’s three unknown leads feel like weird, boring interludes in the midst of a reasonably exciting 90-minute music video.
And trust me: if you thought the found footage gimmick was implausible in Cloverfield or Chronicle you’ll be pulling your hair out and stuffing it into your eyes after ten minutes of this irrational bollocks.