the movieGOOMBA

2.3 GOOMBAS

Before I saw this movie, the number 23 only meant Michael Jordan's jersey number. That is thanks to my childhood friend, Sabrina. Jim Carey changed that for me. It's astonishing how I can make the number 23 appear anywhere. It's astonishing how paranoid I am.

Carey stars as an average, ordinary dog catcher, whose wife buys him a thrift-store, self-published, shady novel entitled The Number 23. Slowly, he is drawn into the mysterious story of Detective Fingerling and his many women; a part of him disturbed by his close similarity to the fiendish investigator. 2 In the end, he becomes so consumed by the book, that it begins to consume him. Does he know the killer? Does the killer know him? Did I just tell you who the killer is?

Despite the innovative story concept, it was just a bad movie masked by some cool cinematography and discreet subliminal messages. The Fingerling scenes had a kind of New Age, Film Noir style, with shadowy mis en scene and illuminated characters, and the camera movement is sleek and light-weight. Oh, but the story was appalling! The plot was so stupid . . . and weird . . . And that neck slashing scene was so not necessary. And the ending, don't even get me started on the ending. I'd rant even more about it, but I'd be giving stuff away. Between you and me, waiting to see what happens in the end is the only thing that should keep you watching.

So to all those paranoid numerology freaks out there, spare yourselves. You'll start seeing 23 everywhere. I even got my birthday to make 23. Heck, I am 23. I bet you I could even make this blog somehow be 23. I bet you I even used only 23 out of the 26 letters of the alphabet writing this blog; I bet you I only used 323 words up until HERE. Count them. I dare you! I'm awesome.