Director Uwe Boll Pukes Out Another Opus of Insufferable Screen Time in ‘Postal’

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CHICAGO – At the Chicago screening of “Postal” for critics, director Uwe Boll introduced his new film as a personal “The Kentucky Fried Movie” attacking the heart of America. Boll – a German national – has produced several “B”-grade movies in both Germany and the U.S. However, “Postal” is his first attempt at writing and directing within the American market.

“Postal”. Photo credit: MovieSet

Including “Postal,” his last few films have all been notorious cinematic adaptations of controversial video games. Boll’s opening rant prior to the “Postal” screening offered his personal disgust for this forced and depraved genre.

Poking fun at himself and his filmmaking, this charismatic director expressed his political angst and outlandish humor to the audience and had them laughing and commiserating before the screening even began.

I initially took this as a good omen and my previous notions of “B” cinema began to quell. That said, Boll’s final remark “if you were all drunk, you will like it” became an accurate adage of the film’s overall character.

RELATED IMAGE GALLERY View our full “Postal” image gallery RELATED READING Read our “Postal” news (April 6, 2008) More film reviews from critic Allison Pitaccio

This film offensively opens with two terrorists flying a plane and arguing over the amount of virgins they will each receive in Paradise. They end up settling the dispute by calling Osama bin Laden on the phone and are both perturbed that the number is less than they had originally thought.

Therefore, they change the plane’s direction for the Bahamas. While the plane changes course, the angry mob of American passengers storms the cockpit and the plane crashes into the World Trade Center. This commences Sept. 11, 2001 and sets the tone for a despicable, 109 minutes of cinema.

From Sept. 11, 2001 forward, the film continues in a downward spiral of shock-and-awe obnoxiousness. The story begins with the “Postal Dude” (Zack Ward) facing a bad turn of events in his trailer park town of Paradise.

From finding his obese wife cheating on him to a horrendous job-interview process at the “Gluttco” corporation to a shootout at the welfare office, Postal Dude seeks out his Uncle Dave (Dave Foley).

“Postal”. Photo credit: MovieSet

Uncle Dave is the leader of the “Organic Monotheism” cult where he parades around fully nude and has daily orgies with silicone followers.

Together, uncle and nephew devise a plan to steal the impossible-to-get, Tickle Me Elmo-esque “Crotchy Dolls” (shaped as anatomical body parts) and sell them on the Unternet for astronomical prices.

As their plan is paralleled by the Taliban, the two groups show up at the “David Hasselhoff Concentration Camp playground” where the dolls are being unveiled to steal the highly sought-after toys.

A shootout ensues and hundreds of children are shot and killed while playing at the playground.

Zack Ward in “Postal”. Photo credit: MovieSet

The shooting continues for the rest of the film and hundreds if not thousands of absurd rounds of ammunition are expelled.

Avian flu, atomic bombs and solidarity are the main themes throughout this opus of insufferable screen time while nausea seems to be the only thing you take with you when the film comes to its nuclear holocaust of a closing.

If the synopsis alone isn’t enough to disgust you, misfired jokes about the handicapped, concentration camp victims and Sept. 11, 2001 are meant to make you politically active. In reality, though, all this does is cause your jaw to disengage.

More blood and guts than anything since the last “Saw” was most likely intended as a parody for all the violence and gore in American films. Once again, though, Boll’s attempt at making Americans laugh is unsuccessful and only adds to an already open mouth and gastric stomach.

The efforts at political satire and taboo topics can be commended for bravery and the meshing of a video game into a movie can also be recognized in accuracy.

Still, the overall distaste of this feature has quite possibly earned “Postal” the rights to a new movie genre much further along in the alphabet than the letter “B”. “Postal” is a film I have placed at the bottom of my list and can only hope to forget.

By ALLISON PITACCIO Staff Writer HollywoodChicago.com allee@hollywoodchicago.com