REVIEW: Good Time Max

A low budget, high brow film directed by, starring, and produced by none other than the start of 127 hours: James Franco. From cocaine deals gone awry to defecation on antique rugs, Fracno rose above and got even higher in this film then even Pineapple Express, his most successful movie to date. Though I loved Pineapple Express, and it was a non stop ride of laughs, Good Time Max mixes high brow art with the lowest forms of depravity: meth smoking, drug pilfering and the corruption of fellow employers, which got him fired. "This is nerd fun" he says at one point while blasting off bottle-rockets that accidentally sets his friend's neighbors porch one fire and then sets of a water fight. It's a serious film about two genius brothers who paths diverge and converge in California: one becomes a successful surgeon, the other a part-time genius, full-time fuck-up. In the end, it all comes together and shows the intricacies of twinship. In short, this is what I will from now on will call A Great Fucking Movie, to quote Tome Sizemore in True Romance.