Shooty women are so in this year.
Paul WS Anderson has committed the greatest act of cultural rape since Stephenie Meyer thought “Whitby and dogs are all very well, but none of it’s really sparkly enough…”. The Three Musketeers is plagiarised from so many disparate sources that I can scarcely keep up with them – unfortunately, however, Alexandre Dumas’ classic romance isn’t among them. This film is unforgivable.
All for one, and one for QUIFF
Paul WS Anderson, are you reading this? We know where you live, and we’re going to force-feed you literature until you cry like a mewling baby girl.