I wouldn't be surprised if I were reading too much into it, but when I'm looking at a movie called RIVER OF DEATH, in which Nazi scientist Robert Vaughn wears a swastika armband on his white lab coat while shooting the nice SS officer, and adventurer Michael Dudikoff goes looking for a lost city only to find a secret Nazi city run by Vaughn, I stop to wonder if I'm looking at a burlesque. A very dry burlesque. With nothing funny about it. Even if it is based on a novel by the same title, written by Alistair MacLean.
When I write there's nothing funny about it, I mean there's nothing I laughed, smiled, or thought "that's funny" about. There are some things that other people might find funny, like the black-and-white-painted naked jungle ninjas, the wrestling dwarves, or the cabaret singer who croons a love song to a plastic skeleton like she's Marlene Dietrich seducing Emil Jannings. I wouldn't think to tell you what you find funny, and if you think this is funny, well, you're entitled to your own opinion.
And if you do, get away from me.
When I write there's nothing funny about it, I mean there's nothing I laughed, smiled, or thought "that's funny" about. There are some things that other people might find funny, like the black-and-white-painted naked jungle ninjas, the wrestling dwarves, or the cabaret singer who croons a love song to a plastic skeleton like she's Marlene Dietrich seducing Emil Jannings. I wouldn't think to tell you what you find funny, and if you think this is funny, well, you're entitled to your own opinion.
And if you do, get away from me.