Red Notice
This is a typical Netflix original, a B movie with a couple of A list names to put on the poster and help you convince yourself it's worth more than a C- CinemaScore. The one thing it doesn't have, however, is Gal Gadot twerking on my face.
Sorry, no, scratch that. I'll start again.
Red Notice is kind of a cross between Indiana Jones and Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, a 1988 movie with Steve Martin and Michael Caine which was much less memorable than Gal Gadot twerking on my face.
Oh. Fuck. Just slipped out. Carry on like nobody noticed? Probably best.
I should have been the target market for this movie. Gal Gadot flashing a bit of thigh as she twerks, if not quite on my face, then in reasonably close proximity to it as I squinted at her through my cellphone screen, and yet. And yet. No. The best bit was Ed Sheeran screaming "I was in Game of Thrones! I'm Ed Sheeran, bitch!" as he gets arrested.
A movie as charmless as Dwayne Johnson, an insincere as Ryan Reynolds drinking his own brand of Gin in close-up, as disappointing as Gal Gadot not twerking on my face.
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