I Review Sucker Punch Without Actually Seeing It

I have a wife, two kids and approximately thirty-seven jobs.  As a result, I see 0.5 movies annually.  I really want to see Sucker Punch for all the wrong reasons, but I probably won't be able to until well after Chris Brown has mellowed.  To make myself feel better, I am going to review it based on what I have gleaned from the above trailer and the advertising Blitzkrieg that has assaulted every aspect of my conscious and subconscious. 

Apparently one night while free-basing Frank Miller comics, Zack Snyder got high enough to ask himself, "What would happen if Michael Bay directed a Lifetime original movie?"  The resulting nerdgasm genetically fuses Burlesque and Sailor Moon in a sepia-hued boss battle of seizure-mongering.  At the center of this non-stop onslaught of onslaughtering is a young woman empowering-ly known as Baby Doll.

Baby Doll has been committed to an insane asylum, presumably after being driven mad by constantly being forced to walk in slow motion.  As opposed to a normal insane asylum, however, she has been placed in Wuthering Heights, which has become a repository for over-sexualized orphans who constantly re-enact the B-roll footage from Annie's "Hard Knock Life" number in the most seductive way possible.  Actress Emily Browning, who originally thought she was auditioning to play bait for NBC's To Catch a Predator, endures the tortures of institutional life through a strict regimen of pouting and mouth breathing intended to distance herself from her performance in Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events while remaining attractive to Jim Carrey.

Faced with the threat of lobotomization, Baby Doll retreats deeper into a fantasy world not of her own imagining, but of a committee of thirteen year-old boys.  There she is advised by Scott Glenn's slightly more jagged but much less dead turn as David Carradine that she must find five objects:  a map, a knife, fire, a key, and a fifth object that is a mystery--presumably the outline of the plot.  (Note:  If I were a betting man, I would put it on the button that hits the floor in super slo-mo in the trailer.  Probably wrong, but a possibility.)  These items must be found in a video game mission format in order to put the enigma of femininity into a digestible format for the target audience.  To complete these missions, Baby Doll recruits a mix of sultry ethnicities so that sexuality may be presented buffet-style.  They do so while wearing costumes designed by Christina Aguilera after she did ecstasy in an army surplus store.  Each of these fetching warriors represents an archetype of fanboy desire:  doe-eyed schoolgirl, Asian dragon-lady, ginger vamp, and Carla Gugino.  Even Vanessa Hudgens navigates the screen in a glycerin-soaked slither, ensuring the movies ongoing success on Blu-Ray played in windowless vans behind Circle-Ks throughout the nation.  

Together, the femmandoes form an efficient fighting force driven to violence after Suicide Girls rejected them for being too hot.  They launch an all-out assault on a world where anything is possible--except a conventional camera angle.  Apparently all normal sized tripods are being used for machine guns, as Snyder's camera's are either low enough to capture the rain of spent shell casings or high enough to delve into the depths of cleavage.  In the meantime, the Boo-Ya  Sisterhood is attacked, oddly, by a series of other movies.  Dawn of the Dead, The Lord of the Rings, I Robot, Kill Bill and The Baby-Sitters' Club all converge on the heroines.  While the melange of images is confusing, one thing is clear--all blimps are evil and must be destroyed.

Baby Doll and her metaphorical mechanical bunnies battle their way through their foes, occasionally using actual mechanical bunnies.  In the end she discovers the truth that sets her free.  The secret to female empowerment is looking, dressing and acting exactly the way men have wanted you to all along.

I give it seventy-seven stars.

There you have it.  Will someone with a life please tell me how accurate I am after they see it?