"Going postal" . . . from a man named 'Uwe'

A new movie ( 'Postal' ) reviewed the other day in the Globe&Mail received possibly the worst recommendation I've ever read in print.
Apparently this movie has zero redeeming features and is not worth the twelve+ bucks to sit one's ass in a comfy chair for two hours. To whit (by Mr Michael Harris):

Quote:

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" ... In the glorious bloody travesty that is 'Postal', director Uwe Boll tries to shake us into accepting his film as something very shocking. Carcasses litter the streets like cigarette butts; oral sex is dispensed as casually as a handshake; and oh the poop jokes . . . Boll gives us ... a boring beating over the head.
At last week's Vancouver premiere, Boll stood before his audience and confessed that "... I put all my frustration with myself, George Bush, and Osama Bin Laden into this film ..."

(In the film) Postal Dude's wife is morbidly obese and considerably promiscuous, is cruel to Postal Dude and so must be punished - death by explosive. Finally a band of terrorists led by Osama Bin Laden himself ... are summarily dispatched.
How these multiple evils collide and fall under the crosshairs of Postal Dude's curiously accurate weaponry is a mystery only Boll's therapist can fully unravel. It would be naive to ask for intelligent plot progession from a movie in which a cat is used as a gun silencer ... "

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For myself, the mental picture described in the last sentence is enough to get me to rush out and see this movie immediately.

Cheers ... and good viewing