I saw this as someone who very much enjoyed the first Hellboy. Metacritic tells me that the movie has received “generally favorable reviews,” many of them from people who are not insane or otherwise incapacitated. I have to assume that the creators of Hellboy 2 have somehow managed to subject various respectable film critics to some combination of blackmail and extreme physical duress, up to and including purple-nurpling. Hellboy 2 was so bad that it practically made me want to weep. Selma Blair was checked out. The dialogue was hackneyed. The film’s plot required more than a suspension of disbelief — it required a suspension of all of one’s critical faculties, and also a suspension of the capacity to see and hear. In truth, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth was similarly wretched — so bad that it almost made me reconsider my designation of Tadpole as the worst movie ever made, except I’d literally rather drink a thick gasoline-based sludge and light it on fire rather than see Tadpole ever again, whereas I’d only rather stab myself in the belly with a rusty nail file than see Pan’s Labyrinth again.
“Any specific objections, Reihan?” The romance was particularly grating. And one wonders, why didn’t Hellboy take advantage of the psychic link between the twins? I won’t go into greater detail. I wouldn’t want to “spoil” this movie for you. But I must say, the surest way to “spoil” this experience would be for you to experience this experience. You’d be better off filling your $10 with some mix of tobacco and exotic spices, rolling it, and smoking it.