Anne Hathaway's Boobs

I'm back. Now, let’s never fight again.

Frequent GIK viewers probably know that I have a little crush on Anne Hathaway (the actor, not Shakespeare’s wife). It was brought on during a fever-induced viewing of The Princess Diaries and it has stayed with me ‘lo these many years. Just so you know, she’s older than you think, so I’m not quite as disgusting as some would have you believe. Anyway, the lovely Sherpa, knowing of my crush and harboring her own love of The Devil Wears Prada, rented us up a movie that promised to give a glimpse of Hathaway boob. Yep, Sherpa’s pretty cool that way. Now, we got boob, but we got oh so much more.

Havoc

Desperate to break out of her kid’s movie personae and to break her agent’s heart, Little Anne took on this film about the seedy underbelly of ridiculously wealthy LA teens. Like most wealthy movie teens they’re totally bored, and they deal with their boredom by acting “ghetto.” Now, “ghetto” for them isn’t your typical white kids co-opting black culture by listening to Snoop and saying “son” a lot. No, I’m talking about brawling with rival “crews,” sucking on that crack pipe, and adopting “street” voices. Seriously, Joseph Gordan-Levitt of “3rd Rock” fame sounds like a cross between a grizzled old jazzman, a middle class “Rasta” dude, and Slater from Dazed and Confused. It’s so bad that it will make you embarrassed to be white, a jazzman, middle class, Rastafarian, or human. Oh, and all of this is filmed by a classmate “filmmaker” who’s all American Beauty minus the smoldering eyes. Anyway, one night the kids decide to take things to the next level by visiting East LA and getting down with some serious dealers. The problem is that Anne’s boyfriend (played by a tool that I’ve been calling Son of Chad Michael Haircut) argues with one of the dealers, has a gun put to his head, and pisses his pants. You’d think this would end the poor little rich kids’ foray into “being real,” but it doesn’t. Anne actually goes back and befriends the dealer (Six Feet Under’s Freddie Rodriguez just cashing checks). Soon she and her friend (socialite Bijou Philips) are drawn into the “gang,” which at first just seems to be a lot like my insane extended Italian family but with more guns and a better understanding of volume control. Unfortunately, things turn ugly as Bijou learns first hand about the evils of drugs and violent group sex. There’s a rape scene that might or might not have been rape or something, and some attempted suicide, Anne simulating masturbation, and a collection of other scenes that I’ve tried to wash away, but I still just feel dirty. Eventually Anne’s boyfriend and his crew (JG-L included) mount up to regulate and bring justice to the bangers that may have violated Bijou and definitely made that one guy piss. They storm in, guns held high, and discover a group of young mothers with even younger babies. There’s some screaming, some crying, and a lot of learning, y’all. In the end, Anne learns to be herself. She loses the fake voice, leaves the ghetto, and realizes that her rich friends are no better than anyone else or something.

This movie sucks in a way that’s hard to imagine. However, there are some highlights. Michael Biehn plays Anne’s dad, and you know everything that man does is pure gold, and there are some decent songs on the soundtrack. Other than that, it’s horrible. The only person who walks away from Havoc looking good is Bret Easton Ellis. I mean, at least the young rich douchebags he wrote about were entertaining enough to be played by Spader, Downey Jr., and McCarthy. I’m giving Havoc 1 ½-Griecos. And just so you know, the extra ½ is for Biehn, not boobs. Although….