Joel Schumacher
The Number 23

(do not believe that I only write negative reviews of horror movies, please.)

There are few reasons why you might be walking into the theater to see this movie:

- your boyfriend/girlfriend has forced you to, and you need to be forgiven for something serious;

- you're with a group of friends who found Jim Carrey's latest movie an attainable and low-commitment destination;

If you find yourself in one of these two options, YOU STILL HAVE TIME TO

- convince your significant other to make a profound turn towards The Lives of Others, definitely deserving, or a simpler Spiderman 3, if you're lucky enough to be in a multiplex;

- redirect the group to a friendly pizzeria.

Remember, you still have time.

Unless, like me, you are intrigued by the reviews that call it one of the worst films of the century and want to see for yourself how far Jim Carrey can go. Believe me, he can't go lower than 23. Not because he is an actor on the rise, but because going lower than 23 means energetically digging deeper. You find yourself in a half-empty theater. Enjoy the ads before the movie to the fullest because they will be the most enjoyable thing you'll see in two hours.

Thus begins the ordeal.

From the first line, "the most extraordinary thing about the week was my birthday", you understand the film's trajectory: an exasperating effort to recreate desperate situations in clichéd and already incredibly seen ways. The film starts with a brief description of Mr. Sparrow's life and then his encounter with the manuscript the number 23 written by someone named Topsy Krett, which drives him insane. You might, upon hearing the name Topsy Krett, realize it somehow recalls the words Top Secret, but the characters will take two hours to figure it out.

After a progression of situations that end up self-parodic, with a fortunately brief scene where Jim Carrey tries to make the audience laugh but instead evokes pity while in the scenes he takes himself seriously and acts at his maximum (?), where laughter is even louder, you reach a series of twists we won’t reveal here so that if your girlfriend/boyfriend wants to take you to see twenty-three, at least you have an excuse not to leave them there. Banal twists that have been seen and re-seen. The most amazing thing is that the game the characters play with the number 23 is doable with any other number, as the calculations they make are completely nonsensical.

One positive note: for almost half a minute, an interesting song appears in one of the character's visions. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out what song it was because I’d have to wait for the soundtrack listing, which is at the end of the closing credits, and by the end of the film, I desperately wanted to leave. An interesting pastime is figuring out from where the authors have pathetically copied the screenplay. The first one that comes to my mind is "Fight Club," by David Fincher, (the beginning is decidedly similar and the twist all too much) which at least didn't take itself so seriously. The most pathetic thing is, in fact, the way the actors act, winning their imaginary Oscars.

Another interesting pastime is to close your eyes, cover your ears, and start screaming. In good company, you can laugh from beginning to end, especially at the appearances of the dog NED, possibly the most far-fetched element of the entire film.

But if you suffer from narcolepsy, you’re in luck: sleeping through 23 is the best thing that can happen to you. (sorry for the logorrhea, but I really enjoy it (!) )