The Purge is a delightfully average action/horror movie that will undoubtedly go perfectly in the FX B-movie rotation, sandwiched comfortably between Ghost Rider and Iron Man. It’s suspenseful sure… though I think the real problem is every person in the movie is completely infuriating. With no discernible hero, it was impossible and disorienting to try and pick a side.
On one hand, the people partaking the purge looked like massive tools that probably pre-gamed the night at one of those bars that connects to a mall. (see Bar Louie) When not wearing stupid animal masks and creepily skipping around during the purge they’re likely working out at Xport fitness blasting their nipples in a cut sleeves muscle t-shirt. This or trampling children and or elderly at Lollapalooza to Instagram the right toe of one of the Mumfords. I actually found the behavior at Lollap more reprehensible than what I saw here. On the other hand the combination of Ethan Hawke looking infinitely stupid and his sniveling coward son that looked like the youngest Hanson brother was enough to make my blood boil. He makes Zach Braff look like a fully cycled and completely oiled up Sly Stallone.
I also found myself regularly dozing off into varying day dreams about what I might do during the purge. I think I effectively settled on paying Vin Diesel to wheel me around in famed monster truck Gravedigger, consuming several different flavored bottles of Parrot Bay rum and telling him to do as many 360’s as possible in the allotted 12 hours. That way I could purge both spirit and body. This commission would also require that he remind me several times in the night that we are living our lives “a quarter mile at a time.” Either that or go with a more peaceful route, commission Nickelback to perform a live concert at my house, VJ’d by Eugene Levy, that way I could be 100% certain no one showed up, and if they did they would promptly leave.