THE LORD OF THE RINGS: BAGGADONUTS STYLE

Last year, when the hype began for a movie called The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring, I was stoked. And mortified. On the one hand, it was great that someone finally made a quality biopic about the one and only Lord of the Ring, Hulk Hogan, and his fellowship of leotard clad brutes, the WWE. On the other hand, hype like that mortifies me. In Hollywood, hype = franchise, and franchise = crap. So I let it pass. Despite being a devout Hulkamaniac, I never saw the film.
Then, this year, I catch word of a sequel: The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. I had to bite. I mean, to pass on one movie about a legendary wrestler and his league of peers is one sin. But to pass on a sequel following the rise and fall of one of wrestling's greatest tag teams, The Samoans, would be asinine.
So I went.
Seriously, The Two Towers is the worst wrestling movie ever. For starters, there are no wrestlers. Just elves. Elves! And not even Samoan elves! What kind of messed up shit is that? How do you sell yourself as a groundbreaking biopic on two of wrestling's battlin' badboys, then completely remove them from the film?
All this movie did was show me a bunch of small, pointy-eared dudes running around in capes and tights, battling each other over some jewelry. Bollocks!
The third installment in this trilogy, The Return of the King, better make up for the sheer ignorance of part two. You can diss the Hulk. You can diss the Samoans. But you CANNOT diss Mr. Jerry “The King” Lawler. No sir.
Take my advice: DO NOT SEE THIS MOVIE! You will be disappointed! It may very well be the worst wrestling picture ever, and this only proves that Peter Jackson is a fucking hack. Save your money and go see Chicago on December 27. Any movie about Mike Ditka and the 1985 Super Bowl Champion Chicago Bears is a-okay by me.