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By JoJo Sanders

Spoiler alert: in this comedic and sardonic take on the overplayed apocalypse genre, a few people die. On second thought, the entire human population dies, except for some actors-turned-cannibals-slash-sex-slaves, and James Franco. And a few others. To tell the truth, I was a little distracted by those guys.

“Those guys” and every other major celebrity you would die to meet (pun intended) kick off the movie attending Franco’s housewarming party. Drugs, booze and a coked-up Michael Cera are all present. At first everyone is oblivious to giant holes opening in the ground outside, but then people start getting pulled closer and closer by their own morbid curiosity and fall to their deaths in endless pits of lava and shame. Pretty soon, it seems the only ones left are some guileless comedians taking shelter in Franco’s house, “built like a fortress” apparently. Not that that would ever be useful, right?

The rest of the movie has a lot of fun with stereotypes. Do celebrities think different than the rest of us? How do they act at home? Surprisingly normal, actually. Comfortingly similar. In fact, this movie would be fun to watch just for the very reason of the viewers getting an insight on how the biggest names in Hollywood comedy act in a crisis (One snickers bar. Six guys. Now there is something worth worrying about.) But this is no “crisis.” The apocalypse is happening right outside the house, Emma Watson goes from clean-cut, sophisticated British girl to straight-up crazy, and something distinctly non-human is sending heads rolling.

Yes, there is a plot, and the end is of course satisfyingly correct, but what’s the fun in that? It’s the journey rather than the destination that makes this movie so much fun. If you decide to see this movie you are along for the ride, the whole ride: meandering, wacky, edge-of-my-seat-thrilling, with a little self-discovery along the way.

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