apocalypsos | Spoilers ahead, as usual ...

Constantine: A Review in Q&A Form

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been -- what year is this again? -- oh, a fuckin' long time since my last confession.

What are you doing?

I'm juggling chainsaws. What does it sound like I'm doing?

It sounds like you're confessing.

Uh, yeah, I kinda am.

What to?

Liking Constantine.

Ooo. That's pretty bad. You go straight to Hell for that one, don't you?

Actually, no, there's a layover in Utica.

Ah. But it couldn't have been that good.

Of course it wasn't good, but it didn't suck as bad as I thought it would. I expected that movie to be so bad, I thought I'd come out of that theater with a full-body hickey.

Enough worry over your eternal damnation. See any good trailers?

I thought I was going to see Hitchhiker's Guide on the big screen, I saw House of Wax. Someone must pay for this.

House Of Wax?

Yes, starring Paris Hilton, Actress of Wax.

Oh, she is not made of wax.

Okay, true.

I mean, if she were made out of wax, she'd be able to reshape that lump of putty she calls a nose, and --

Yeah, I get the point. Can we talk about somebody who's not a skank now?

So does this mean we can't talk about Keanu Reeves now?

Sure we can. Paris is a skank, Keanu is a ho'. Huge difference.

All right, already. Who's in this movie anyway?

Keanu Reeves ... Well, really.

Angela Dodson ... Cop with a telephone collection that all ring at the same time when the plot calls for it. Also had a nutty twin sister who saw demons and dead people and was probably loads more interesting, so of course she flung herself off a building.

Midnite ... Owner of a wicked-cool supernatural bar that's supposed to be a safe haven, which means of course that everybody feels the need to go there and have hissy fits. Dresses like a middle-aged white golfer trying to be a pimp, but hey, whatever works.

Chaz ... Constantine's wannabe sidekick. Just like in I, Robot, Shia LaBeouf wears a stupid hat. Unlike in I, Robot, they let him spew exposition like a literary volcano erupting and allow him to say a few words that actually consist of more than one syllable. So, you know, good for him.

Beeman ... Constantine's twitchy fake Q. Trades a bowling bag full of supernatural goodies for a little plastic barrel thingy that makes a cow moo, so obviously must have learned the concept of how the barter system works from Ebay.

Balthazar ... A half-demon drowning in lusty, well-attired infatuation with Constantine. Wait, I'm sorry. When I said, "drowing in lusty, well-attired infatuation," I meant ... Actually, come to think of it, that's exactly what I meant. Oh, wait, I know where I was going. When I said, "with Constantine," I meant, "with everyone."

Gabriel ... The best reason to give up that lapsed-Catholic crap. *enthusiastically waves* Hi, Gabriel! I love you lots! I don't care if I'm straight and you're played by a chick! Can I be snarky and androgynous and two-faced like you when I grow up? *flings panties*

Let's ramble. I heard Constantine has lung cancer.

Yes, but that's what happens when you smoke in the bathtub, in your sleep, after coming back from Hell, and quite possibly after going back in time and redoing every day three times over specifically to smoke some more.

Hey, how's Keanu do with that whole "acting like an asshole" thing?

You know when you go to your grandma's house for the weekend, you've just gotten back from Sunday church services, you stub your toe so hard on the coffee table you're sure you broke it, and you have to restrain yourself from screaming, "YOU MEALY-MOUTHED CROTCH PHEASANT!" by saying something like, "Oh ... cheese" or something stupid like that? Yeah, it's like that.

What kind of kickass weapons does Constantine have, anyway?

Oh, you know, the usual. A couple of light bulbs full of holy water, a beetle in a box, and the kind of gun you'd expect to see if Smith & Wesson and the Vatican went into business together. And also, an astounding lack of casualwear.

Isn't Constantine supposed to look like he's been brutally beaten around by life?

Yeah, I guess.

But Keanu Reeves looks like he's been lightly slapped by life's colic-ridden toddler!

Or, you know, sexually assaulted by life's horny, drunken sister. Which, you know ... understandable.

I'll bet Balthazar's really spooky.

Oh, yeah, Gavin Rossdale's just a big pile of scary. You know, if you consider a look that says, "They're coming to get you, Gwen Stefani," as an actual threat.

So, what's Hell like?

Oh, it's swell. It's all fiery and post-apocalyptic-looking and it's filled with ugly demons!

How long did it take before you started considering buying a summer home there?

What do you mean, started considering? I've got a good offer in for that two-bedroom burnt-out shell next to the flaming pile of wreckage. I'm moving in next Thursday. Yay, me!

Can we bury the use of the phrase, "I don't believe in God/Satan/Bigfoot/Santa/The Easter Bunny/Corey Feldman," only to have some yahoo respond, "Too bad, because God/Satan/Bigfoot/Santa/The Easter Bunny/Corey Feldman believe in you"?

Yes, can we please? Because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be here if God didn't believe in me, but I think Bigfoot tells bedtime stories about me to his kids and Corey Feldman would probably just rather have a sandwich.

Hey, I read the books, and at the end when Constantine's lung cancer was cured, Constantine went back to smoking and a future full of another round of I'm-A-Stupid-Git lung cancer! In the movie, he chews gum at the end! What the hell's going on?!

Oh, you must have missed the extra scene at the end of the credits where six months afterwards, Constantine goes to the dentist and finds out he has a lethal case of gum disease.

So, I'll bet Constantine and Angela had tons of chemistry.

*sigh* Look, you, just because a secondary character has a uterus does not mean the main male character has to have chemistry with them, especially if both of them have the personalities of wadded-up paper towels and day-old grits, respectively.

That's a lot of personality for those two.

I know, isn't it? They're better not use that all up, or they won't have any left for the sequel.

Sequel? What sequel? Good Lord, is that really necessary?

Yes. And it's going to be called Gabriel Is My New Questionably Sexual Love Muffin, and it's just going to be about me trailing after Gabriel with a swoony expression and a pink fuzzy autograph book clutched happily to my chest.