This film is possible evidence that producers have invented a computer program that roughly approximates how Canadians interact with each other. There's no reason to watch beyond the 15 minute point, but I did. I'm sure that in the vastness of the cosmos there's at least one person who could muster a barely audible chuckle at the re-hashed, tired buddy-com dialogue. That person deserves your absolute disdain. I cried during the film only once. During the end credits, when I learned there was actually a director involved. This film needs to be converted to a format that's impossible to watch, and then buried in a time capsule that's only ever unearthed when sick, cancer cats run out of places to urinate.
Review of Fourth Man Out
