Nuts, absolutely fucking nuts.

I watched Nutsⁱ, a miserable piece of shit from the early days of pantsuit, back when they were pushing that whole "abused children" acid rain & hole in the ozone layer. Recall the 80s, all those ugly broads yakking about glass ceilings and child abuseⁱⁱ ? Well.. it was a thing, back then, whether you remember it or not. Just like phlogiston was a thing (and precisely the same exact kind of thing, actually). Also whether you remember it or not.

The nonsense worth mentioning in the pile of offensive bullshit isn't necessarily the direct. It's all the intolerable stupid shit they try to slip in while nobody's lookingⁱⁱⁱ, low-key as it were, like the implicit proposition that the dumb ugly cunt isn't held to be pleasant. She's somehow excused by extenuating circumstances from this universal obligation of womanhood, but really, what they'd like you to take home would be that no excusing is really necessary, as if there fucking could exist such a thing as an absolute license for women to live in general and irrespective of how socially pleasant they are. This, for the record, is entirely nuts -- women aren't a kind of "the Sun", here for better or worse, like it or not. Women are a kind of "the trees" : tolerated, for now, provided they behave, just as far as they're pleasant about it and serviceable to the diminutive degree their limited capacity allows. So Ben Affleck's ugly mom'd better be fucking nice to the court-appointed attorney, as well as to everyone else. Until and unless they've earned the priviledge of becoming equivalent to a patriarch^iv, they're not a fucking patriarch, what, this needs spelling out ? Rando woman gets exactly all the deference any other worthless boi gets, which is to say exactly none, what the everloving fuck!

Another bit in that vein is some alt-world bizzaro nurturing obligation foisted upon random males. We're to believe that it's the misfortunate lawyer's place to go in there and coo at the stupidly uncouth, offensively misbehaving harpy because o noes, sometime decades ago^v her step-daddy touched her on the dolly. The dude's not held to similarily go give his jacket to whatever bum freezing in the street, it's not his cinematic obligation to spend his time loitering in the subway making change for entitled cuntlets trying to buy dime tickets with large paper denominations, he's not required to fix all his neighbours' toilets whenever they back up, but god fucking forbid some sixteen year old has a bit of kinky sex on the side, all bets are off, he's now to take over simping for her because... what, because Martin Ritt's a complete cuck ? Lay the fuck off, that nonsense's ridiculous in the direct and very selective on the second pass : the sort of idiot capable of buying that bridge ain't ever gonna have enough money to buy a cup of coffee.

Besides all this crap, the film's unremarkably (rather, traditionally) ill-researched. What's sold as an outstandingly competent whore^vi collapses immediately upon contact with what seems to be the very first punter who dun feel like leaving when time's up. That's all the skill she's got -- if policemen were as skilled at their job as she is at hers, they'd be mostly found handcuffed to monkey bars.

Unless you're a plastic surgeon trying to convince a reluctant audience, there's really no reason to ever screen this atrocity. And even then, you'd be doing common decency not to mention any shred of reason left in this world as slight a disservice as ugly and stupid allied can best manage while standing on tiptoes.

1. 1987, by Martin Ritt, with Richard Dreyfuss, Walter Matthau's better wife and Ben Affleck's ugly mother. [↩]
2. I'm not saying no child ever got the short end of the thick stick in this world. I am however saying that the pantsuit notion of "child abuse" is as much a thing as the pantsuit notion of "rape" is a thing -- in their imagination only. Outside of the narrow confines of their thick skulls it carries no importance through the simple mechanism of showing no signs of existence. [↩]
3. The thing's replete to the point of redolence with this spinster's grade of "cleverness". For one thing, it's all competency hearings, see ? Pre-trial, right, what she did's not under discussion. Cle-ee-eever!

   For the other thing, we're supposed to not notice that a hundred dollars' a hundred dollars (and moreover getting some cock is far from the worst possible fate, especially for a teen), because... you see, she never said she dun like it. Why didn't she ever say she dun like it ? Did she ever tell the dude "enough, already" ?

   Actually, she didn't. But you're also barred from considering the matter by the following oh-so-clever configuration : the intolerably ugly screecher asks herself this! While crying!!! How could you possibly inquire why the fuck didn't she say anything, when she herself inquires first ? But don't you see, you've been beaten to the punch, the whole line's now disqualified, aren't these fucktards cleverer than a sack of hammers ?

   I'm sure they are, yes. Not by so very much, though. They're about on the level of a bag of hammers someone's hit himself over the balls with -- granted, a higher grade of smarts in hammers. Not much higher, but... whatever. [↩]

4. Yes, I fully expect everyone backs the fuck out of my way backwards. This fact gives you no license whatsoever, because guess what ? You're not me. [↩]
5. She looks like she's about 50, too, which makes the whole thing even less digestible than otherwise. But then again, women that don't look like a perambulating hemorrhoid don't generally accept playing parts of perambulating hemorrhoids. [↩]
6. On the very pantsuit-y grounds of "having whored for three years without being picked up". As if that's a qualification now. What, you didn't know the [pantsuit] state's mighty, powerful and important ? What, you thought "law enforcement" is an euphemistic reference to comedic establishments operating at the public's expense ? Ah, but how un-pantsuit of you to think thusly. Do you even own any onesies ?! [↩]