There are some movie experiences that change you.

The fibers that make up the delicate blanket of your life are temporarily unthreaded and laid bare….and these few movie-going experiences become some of the patchwork that colorfully emblazons your life’s quilt.  Bright squares of colorful memory that stand the test of time; and can be viewed again and again – each time, giving you something new to reflect on.

Apocalypse Now, Raiders Of The Lost Ark, Star Wars, Jaws, Rear Window, Blade Runner, Animal House.  All are such films standing as among the greatest ever created.  They leave a mark on our lives forever.  We can look back years from now and see that mark and when it was so carefully etched.

In similar fashion, Your Highness leaves such a mark.

And that’s not a compliment.

Your Highness falls into that category of film which burrows into your brain like a ravenous maggot on a meth binger.  It finds a home somewhere in the deepest recesses of your mind…and literally kicks more important memories (like the birth of children, weddings or your social security number) out of the way to make room for itself.

This film can go fuck itself…right where it breaths.

You think you know bad movies?  You don’t know no stinkin’ bad movies mon.  Not ’til you seen what Your Highness has to offer.

This was supposed to be a stoner comedy set in a fantasy realm filled with crazy creatures, pot smoking, lascivious sex, vivid setpieces and a host of well-known actors playing an array of humorous medieval caricatures.

It failed on all counts.

Seriously. It didn’t manage to hit on any intended note.  And that actually takes a kind of talent in and of itself: if you can’t write a film that rips stoners and the World of Warcraft crowd (and have it star half-baked ubermensch James Franco) and make it at least a little funny, then you’re just not fucking trying.  This is a genre absolutely RIPE for savage plucking.

The film’s plot (which is, of course, virtually nonexistent) centers on two princely brothers; one of which is a wunderkind (James Franco as ‘Fabious’) and a handjob-addicted stoner named Thadeous (played by a morbidly unfunny Danny McBride).  See what I did there?  I just told you the movie’s first “hilarious” joke!  The good prince’s name is similar to “Fabulous” and he’s great at everything but the stoner ‘Thad’ just screws everything up! :::cue laugh track:::

Fuck everyone involved with this film.  I hope they were on the second floor of Bin Laden’s compound.

Oh ya, the plot…

So, James Franco’s engaged to this piece of pale, stringy and uncharismatic bit of whiney flesh everyone seems to refer to as Zooey Deschenel (who seems to have plucked Katy Perry’s eyes out of their sockets before this film then forced them into the gaping gory open spaces just above the bridge of her pugnose). She’s supposed to be a raging beauty…but take it from me, she isn’t worth saving.  In fact, in a latter scene where she’s possessed and starts shouting “fuck me” in a Exorcist style voice, she becomes infinitely more interesting and alluring.  She honestly has the sex appeal of a used Reebok.

So, when his absolutely disposable trollop of a fiance gets kidnapped by a wizard named Leezar (played by some nobody-actor that looked like Fred Armisen’s gay toothless cousin), Fabious runs off on a quest to save her….and decides to take his stoner brother with him. Because that’s what you do when your special lady gets kidnapped…you solicit the help of the most useless fat fuck in the realm and hand him a sword (which he stares at in complete bewilderment like an Orangutan trying to make sense of a Rubik’s Cube).  Great call, Fabious. And you’re surprised when all your men commit mutiny and betray you?

Along the way, they encounter a wizard muppet who has been apparently sexually molesting James Franco since he was a toddler (I’m not being flippant…thats actually in the fucking movie).  They battle a pagan king who can turn his hand into dragons (which results in Natalie Portman joining them…she’s simply hanging out in the dragonhand’s arena – no explanation is given as to why she’s there and no one seems to notice her).  They also go deep into a dark maze with the intent of stealing a fabled sword (and castrating a Minotaur).  This last gem is used to produce “gross-out laughs” the rest of the film as Danny McBride wears the 14 inch Ox-Demon’s pecker around his neck.  It’s funny for about two seconds…and then the 12 year old in me stopped laughing and the adult in me started to look for better things to do…like guessing how many half-eaten Junior Mints I was sitting on.

Leezar is trying to have an anti-christ babe with Zooey “I Only Have Lazy Eyes For You” Deschenel…in some odd ritual called “The Fuckening”.  If you find F Bombs funny, you might laugh the first 20 or so times this ritual’s name is invoked.  For the rest of us, the chuckles never come easy.  This movie was about as funny as childhood leukemia.

And ya, the climax of the film (if it has one) lasts approximately 34.1 seconds before they’re back home and smoking pot again.  HILARIOUS.

Aaaaaand, that’s it.  Nothing really happens.  None of the characters are likable (with the exception of Danny McBride’s squire who stands as the ONLY character who gets an honest laugh throughout this miscarriage of justice).  This film is why felonies are created.  The Law & Order: SVU team should arrest the director and screenplay adapter for what they forced on us.

Is there anything I can recommend about this movie?  Honestly, no.  They actually give up on the pot smoking jokes about 15 minutes in and then don’t pick them up again until the end.  About a half dozen useless plot excursions go nowhere and are just dropped.  Natalie Portman does absolutely nothing at all.  It even resorts to jokes about gays and anal sex (which is a big sign that your writers learned comedy from the ‘Truly Tasteless Jokes” books – and those stopped being relevant around 1987).  And James Franco makes another stellar attempt to cement himself as the least bankable star in recent film history.  His casting does not bode well for the next Planet of the Apes flick. And I find myself wondering:  did the Director want to further ruin Franco’s career? If they really needed a bland pretty boy with no charisma and a history of piss-poor showings at the box office, why not just call Orlando Bloom?  I hear he needs the work…

Just listen to me.  Avoid this film.  Don’t make the same mistake I did.  The only ‘fuckening’ will be of you and your hard-earned dollars.  There’s a reason this film died at the box office.  It’s not “misunderstood”.  It will never be appreciated “in 10 years”.  And the only people who will even bother watching it in five years are film students studying this cautionary tale of what not to do when you have a spare $40 million.

You have been warned.