September 2003 (v6 i1)
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Intoxicatedmoviereview
Cabin Fever
by Eric Jenkins, Staff Writer
     Red wine goes with steak, white wine goes with chicken, and three 32-ounce Miller High Life’s are most certainly best enjoyed with a generous helping of Cabin Fever. If you’re the kind of person--and you damn well better be--that enjoys flesh eating diseases, boobs, college campers, sex, senseless gore, boobs, blood covered everything, nipples, backwoods yokels, and boobs, then this movie has been tailor made for you. It stars the loser friend from Boy Meets World, two dudes from Detroit Rock City, and the stoner dude from Super Troopers. I don’t know their names, and neither should you. All that one must know is that their amalgamation is like the dawning of the Age of Aquarius, and with their powers combined they possess the star power of approximately three Robert Downey Jr’s and two-thirds Mario Lopez.

     I don’t know if this movie has what film scholars would call a “plot,” but I do know it’s the best thing since Moon Shoes. Some college kids rent a cabin somewhere to get drunk for a solid week, and then everyone gets an unexplainable disease and dies a painful extended bloody death. Oh, and some of them have sex. Though, what set this movie apart from others of its ilk are its keen self-awareness, and this crazy Zach Hanson looking retarded kid that bites people. That guy is sweet.

     Despite the sounds of it so far, Cabin Fever has to be the best date movie of all time. Friend-meets-boy-meets-world, as he shall be named, has been in love with the token hot blonde since forever and ever, but she has kept his dick in the “friend jar.” As soon as they get to the cabin she gives him a mad case of blue balls out on this raft, and low and behold, she is the first person to fall prey to the flesh eating carnage. The movie sends just the right message to that special someone lucky enough to go out with you to see it: Don’t fuck with me lest you want bloody festering sores. Wait...

     The movie ends the way every great one should: with a good, old-fashioned, banjo-plucking ho-down. It doesn’t make sense to me either, but just imagine how much better a movie like, oh, let’s say, Thelma and Louise, would have been if this device were employed. Two crazy bitches drive off a cliff, and then everyone has a ho-down. Hollywood, you’re sitting on a gold mine with this one.

     In short, Cabin Fever will rock your proverbial nuts off with a force so unimaginable that modern medicine, in all its splendor, will not devise the means to repair them for at least two more millennia. It is so awesome that it made me jump up on the curb on my drive home and mow down three bums and a guy on a unicycle. At least that’s my defense. I give this movie a whopping four and a half gangrenous appendages.
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