Freddy Got Fingered

I took my poor friend Amata to see this film, and the uncomprehending look of horror that sat upon her face while Tom Green committed one cinematic atrocity after another will haunt me until my dying day. Amata, who had worked as a henchwoman for some truly sadistic Venezuelan drug lords before brutally dismembering them and taking over the business, was not used to the kind of cruelty that American comedies can inflict upon an audience. This "film," if it can be called that, is really just a series of vignettes featuring as much blood and inhumanity as possible. If you want to see Tom Green swing a newborn baby over his head by the umbilical cord, then, by all means, go see Freddy Got Fingered, but do so with ample warning that this will be the most unpleasant possible way to spend 90 minutes without actually meeting Richard Simmons.