The End of Oak Street

End of Oak Street was fresh ass, and not in the complimentary way. I mean freshly produced ass, steaming proudly beneath a studio spotlight while everyone involved pretends they have made cinema. There is no way Anne Hathaway read this script and thought, "Yes, this will give Jurassic Park a run for its money." Girl, those dinosaurs have been running uncontested for decades, and this movie showed up wearing flip flops with diarrhea.

The characters made no goddamn sense. Their decisions felt less like human behavior and more like somebody throwing darts at a board labeled "Stupid Shit That Moves the Plot." The story itself was equally baffling. Things happened, people reacted incorrectly, and I sat there wondering whether an entire scene had fallen out of the movie's ass somewhere during editing. Every time it threatened to become interesting, it immediately wandered into traffic.

The only redeeming quality was watching a few random people get eaten or violently pecked by those little flying fuck pterodactyls. Those prehistoric bastards understood the assignment. No confusing motivations. No emotional monologues. They simply arrived, chose violence, and started treating the supporting cast like airborne Lunchables. Honestly, I respected their work ethic more than anything happening on the ground.

Spoiler warning: Someone genuinely important to the story got eaten, and I thought, "Wow, main characters rarely die in these kid flicks." For one brief, beautiful moment, the movie grew a spine. I gave it actual credit. Then, of course, the cowardly motherfuckers brought him back in the most idiotic way possible. The movie snatched away its only interesting consequence like a toddler screaming, "No, that's mine!" and shoving it directly into its mouth.

Remember that enormous pile of shit in Jurassic Park? That is this movie. That is the review. One big old pile of shit, except the original pile had better composition, stronger character development, and probably smelled less desperate. Anne Hathaway, do you need money? Girl, I can help. We can start a GoFundMe, sell feet pictures, rob a tasteful bank, whatever it takes. Because this ain't it.