Film Review: 'Bodies, Bodies, Bodies '


Brent Northup

“Bodies, Bodies, Bodies”

At Myrna Loy and Cinemark

Ah, the delicious irony. The most connected generation of all time is also the most disconnected.

Eyes on their phones even when their crush leans on their shoulder.

But, to be fair, my iPhone is my obsession, as well. Siri and I have a special friendship. She’s British this year. Brunette, too. (Under preferences, display, hair color.)

Every generation has its embarrassing tagalongs. I’m a Baby Boomer, thus a long-haired hippie flower child. The 80s had its Valley Girls, who were, like, cool, I guess.

And now we have the kids with ears perpetually covered by their cell, who gaslight, block and silence the uncool.

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The film has only one purpose: To have a really good time making fun of the connected generation.

All you really need to know about the script is that while seeing a friend drop dead might be annoying, losing Wi-Fi is an apocalyptic catastrophe.

The final catharsis is a hoot: The two survivors of the bloody weekend don’t

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