The Life of Chuck in 200 Words or Less

Flat visuals, costumes, and some of the most truly inane messaging this side of a dollar store greeting card -- this movie is like somebody wrote a full length screenplay for one of those prescription drug commercials where everybody's wearing solid knits and drinking margaritas on sunny terraces as their depression turns to ash in their mouths. Truth be told The Life of Chuck may induce a cold sweat, nausea, vomiting, seizures, more vomiting, testicular regression, fire and brimstone, dry eyes, an online gambling addiction, Akathisia, simultaneous constipation and diarrhea, chest pain, heart attack, your full torso spontaneously turning into those big snapping jaws of teeth like that dude in John Carpenter's The Thing, drowsiness, coma, tinnitus, voluntary Tourettes, necrophilia, proptosis, an outburst of immediate and unrelenting misanthopy, rashes, hives, leprosy, all ten Biblical Plagues plus a few more plagues that god couldn't have even thought of at the time, sugar spikes, dry mouth, vanishing fingerprints, vanishing fingers, your image disappearing from all known photographs because this movie went back in time and stopped your parents from ever having sex, night sweats, night terrors, day sweats, day terrors, headaches, and so, so, so much suicidal ideation. Also death.