I have totally glossed over every single milestone number before this point, so I’m going to celebrate the monumental occasion of my brain not failing me for once with a review of a huge surprise hit for me.
The story here is about four diehard fans of a band called “The Ruperts” (named so because they all have the first name Rupert, natch). Said band “was formed on the reality show So You Think the British Don’t Have Talent?” If you’re now picturing . . . .
You’re not the only one.
When the girls hear about a Thanksgiving concert, they neeeeeeeeeeeed tickets. Unfortunately, they were all gone within 7 seconds or some such so the girls have to come up with a new plan in order to get close to their future husbands: “We’re getting a room!” Once the boys arrive it will be . . . .
Which will undoubtedly lead to each girl receiving her happily-ever-after with the Rupert of her dreams. Or maybe not . . . .
“What is your plan?”
“To kill the boy band.”
If you’re ancient like me and grew up with darkly humorous teenage tales such as Pump Up the Volume, Heathers and Jawbreaker - Kill the Boy Band might end up being the sleeper of the year for you as well. God this thing was a delight. Even this happening . . . .
i>“The obvious way to go would’ve been the Weekend at Bernie’s route. It’s this movie where two guys pretend that this dead guy, Bernie, is still alive by putting him sunglasses and walking him around with them and stuff.”
Ouch. I’m fucking old. Weekend at Bernie’s just got millennialsplained to me . . . .
I also found out how those screaming banshees are able to maintain their position right in front of the stage for hours on end . . . . .
Watch out NKOTB. The next time I haul my geriatric ass to one of your concerts I’ll be prepared!