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Customer Reviews of Guns for Sebastian

Heavy-handed meditation on sexual politics stinks badly
While ostensibly a meditation on sexual politics, "Guns for Sebastian" fails on nearly every level to convey anything other than postmodern confusion. The film completely fails to make use of its Asia Minor setting, ignoring the gorgeous Turkish vistas to bring us drab interiors of mousetrap factories. The genetic reambulatorium used to generate the race of super-mice is laughable. However, the film's most disturbing aspect was its insuation that industrial rigormortis in labor unions can be eliminated by replacing the workers with a superior race. Director Herman Gundestalt should leave his outdated eugenics treaties back at the Reichstag. The oft-touted climactic milkcrate tete-a-tete between Titus and Mazak is marred by the inexplicable presence of river otters in the foreground of the shot. While the otter connotes a certain vigor and vitality, doesn't the film seek to show masculine insecurity? The rambunctious otters, at least three of whom appear to be mating, undermine the entire previous argument. If this film has a salvation, it is in the Lactating Gentlemen. Though they are milked for all that they're worth, Gundestalt allows their straight-faced insecurity (and subtly homoerotic interplay) to play right into his hands. Ultimately, while this film is more fun than a molasses enema, I think Jane Fonda's Guns says it best when she says "Sometimes things just fall apart, Walrus. Ain't nothin' to be done about it, just is, dig?"

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A Comedic Masterpiece
With the exception of Striptease, there are few movies intended for tradegdy whose poor dialogue, atrocious acting, maudlin plot, and miserable directing make for such wacky hijinks and hilarity. The plot, which revolves around an annual battle with snot shooting squirt guns, duked out between two townsmen, JV. Tuupach Titus and Zack Ziggidy Mazak, on top of a milk crate in an epic struggle, the final control of the lucritive mousetrap industry. The subtle inferences to industrial rigormortis in the labor unions is solidified when young Sebastian, the hero of our film, becomes the suprising third challenger hoping only to replace this barbaric moustrap tradition with mind controlled, genetically engineered, octoambular feline fanatic mousefoes. The scene where Sebastian says "We'll need guns, lots of guns" (which was blatantly stolen by Keanu Reeves) is perhaps the best piece of dramatic irony in film history. The end which features an all out shot 'em up scene between Sebastian's ghost and the sister of his illegitimate son's lover speaks to the boundless futility and despair of life in an era of postmodern deconstructed society. The inversion of the typically male symbol of the gun, into a yonic metaphor of masculine insecurity presents this dilemma: "What should we eat for dinner." This film will rattle your daydreams for decades, bringing up such images as Sebastian and his sidekick the Walrus, Sebastian's flame of romance with Guns, the svelt Micronesian femme fatale (played by Jane Fonda), and the disturbing molassess enema he receives during his imprisonment in the hands of enemies: The Lactating Gentlemen. These scenes will change your style of life, and youthful vigor you will experience will repay your modest expense