April 11, 2002

Pucker Up

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I felt dirty after watching Death to Smoochy. I felt like I needed to take a shower and wash off the filth that Smoochy had covered my body with. The film isn’t over-the-top; it’s disgusting and obscene. It’ll make you cringe on the edge of your seat, it’ll make the hairs on your arms stand up. If Robin Williams had said “fuck” or made a reference to a penis one more time, I would have lost my innocence. And then there are the midgets, the swastikas, and the Nazi flags — I would explain, but it’s just too painful.

Nonetheless Smoochy is a minefield of laughs. Every few minutes or so, it lobs out something so funny that the your brain tells your morals to go to Hell.

The brainchild of actor-cum-director Danny Devito, Smoochy tells a sordid tale about the dark, underhanded, vermin-infested world of children’s television.

Kidnet, a children’s television network, is looking for a new star after its main attraction — Rainbow Randolph (Robin Williams) —