Predator Press Reviews Movies We Never Saw That Probably Weren’t All That Great Anyway: Driving Miss Daisy

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Look. Once a movie gets a certain age, if you haven’t seen it yet, you probably aren’t going to, right?

Concluding that just because we’ve never seen a particular movie don’t mean Predator Press readers should be deprived of us lecturing extensively about it, we have decided to start a series called “Predator Press Reviews Movies We Never Saw That Probably Weren’t Really That Great Anyway.”

-You are reading sort of a “test balloon.” A pilot, if you will.

Anywho, we‘re starting with Driving Miss Daisy. At first blush I hate every last image I can find on google. O holy Christ I can only imagine the Snooze-O-Meter score for these movie posters: I picture piles of potential movie-goers sleeping right smack under the box office -like the second those retinas process the image into the cerebral cortex, pow, they just drop like they hit a bug zapper.

Danny Glover appears to have slimmed down about 15 pounds or so for this movie, and apparently he’s spun off his Lethal Weapon character. My guess is maybe Murtaugh -finally fed up with Riggs’ antics- retires to be a cop [I'm guessing cop because of that cap] in some small town they couldn’t pay Mel Gibson enough to shoot a movie in. You know what? This movie is really fucking old, too -pre-CGI, 8-track tapes and textiles. Mel might not have even been born yet.

Unfortunately this town isn’t the “easygoing and relaxed” place Murtaugh was expecting, and soon he must arrest criminal mastermind and textile entrepreneur Daisy Werthan -who has been engaged in a lot of evil shit. Like a textile mafia or something.

But on the way to take her to prison, Murtaugh discovers Daisy is innocent -you know, the misunderstood hero with a heart of gold? Then Daisy rescues Muztaugh -her captor- during a seemingly-unrelated shootout featuring John Travolta.

Then there’s probably a good fifty minutes of soppy bullshit as Daisy and Mertaugh struggle against the titanic ebb of romantic tension developing between the two, hilarity ensues, yadda-yadda. But I’ll bet the freaky-wild sex scenes probably come in way too late to salvage this movie at all frankly. Then one of 'em probably dies, tragedy, tragedy, yadda-yadda-yadda ... and we get another fifty minutes of more soppy crap.

-I mean it won four Oscars and had fourteen additional nominations, so the sex scenes must have some redeeming qualities. But who besides Renal Failure wants to see Jessica Tandy naked that badly? That bony, pasty, wrinkled glazed butt, spanked pink, slammin up and down on ...

-Ah Christ. I think I'm havin an aneurism!

We here at Predator Press give Driving Miss Daisy a solid eighteen thumbs up because you can't go wrong when you mix prison, porn, and Dan Aykroyd.

We dinged it minus four Cannes Film Festival appearances for aneurism-related trauma, but this was all offset when we added ten bonus John Travolta Emmys, and an additional Golden Globe for every minute they splice in Lethal Weapon footage.