May 9, 2017
Hot Bot (2016), a recap (part 5 of 8)
Previously: Senator Biter ordered a sexbot, but now she’s in the hands of two teenage boys. They’ve got her stashed in a motel for the night and this is… part 5? Seriously? I have got to get my life together.
Biter is practicing a reelection speech in an empty auditorium when Anthony Anderson and Rape Joke come to tell him they lost the robot again. Biter calls them “the retarded men in black”. Man, that’s just mean. It’s the type of thing a comic would improvise on the first take, then think of a funnier line but the directors have already struck the lights and moved on to the next shot. He does clear up one question I had, when he mentions that his two guys are FBI.
And this just brings up more questions. Do US senators generally have their own personal FBI agents? If not, what does their boss think they’ve been doing? They’re not even enforcing any laws. So far, the only illegal thing Limus and Leonard have done is make an unsafe lane change.
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Limus comes home to find his family having dinner. His stepdad is pretty angry that Limus is late. But his sister doesn’t think he’s angry enough. She asks, “What if I said I was late?” This leads to this speech, which is, I cannot stress this enough, being delivered to a nine year-old girl.
Stepdad: Young lady, if I ever hear you say that you’re late and that your monthly friend… No babies until you’re 39. Do you understand me? 39. You get yourself a career, you get yourself a good job, and then you have a baby. But until then, I don’t want to hear nothing about late nothing. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage. Do you understand me?
This is absolutely bananas. And yet, it’s maybe the third craziest thing going on in this shot.
First of all, that’s Donald Faison from Scrubs. What is he doing here? We know he can be funny. We’ve seen him be funny… on Scrubs. Second, he appears to be dressed like an airline pilot. His character is not an airplane pilot. And as my closing argument, look at this table. They have ketchup, mustard, blue cheese dressing, and three candles, but they are eating TV dinners. This movie spent seven thousand dollars on a playhouse, and they didn’t have the budget for three turkey legs, a can of peas, and a tub of mashed potatoes.
The Polish Brothers are, and I say this with love, completely inept. They should not be making films. They probably shouldn’t be allowed near children. But Donald Faison is black and Angela Kinsey isn’t, so good job on the colorblind casting of at least some of the supporting roles, I guess?
Donald wants the family to pray together. They’re very religious. Limus isn’t terribly into it. This gets him yelled at again. His mother also mentions that she doesn’t like Bardot, whom she calls “the hot pants lady.” By the way, in the one scene where the two of them met, Bardot was not wearing hot pants. They were pants pants.
Limus answers, “She usually doesn’t wear pants.” This causes… well, it causes Limus’ step-father and mother to physically attack him. I’m not kidding.
But this recap is not complete—in fact, it’s not even close to being in the same vicinity as complete—until I share this next scene with you. Fair warning: it is horrifying.
Limus wakes up in the middle of the night to find Senator Biter sitting beside him on his bed. And Biter wants to talk about Limus’ sock. Particularly, he wants to talk about the sock that Limus uses to clean up after he, um, pleasures himself. Biter is holding the crusty thing. He’s cradling it. He says when he was Limus’ age, his big dilemma was whether to wash the sock or throw it away. He asks, as any reasonable adult would, “What do you do?”
Limus answers that he only uses socks that don’t have partners. Biter finds this funny, because he used to do the same thing. “You and I, we pop our willies into orphaned socks.” That’s a line of dialogue that someone wrote. Mark Polish wrote this down and said to himself, “This is perfect. Let’s film this.”
And then Biter… he… he smells the sock. He stuffs it in his face and inhales deeply like he’s in a frickin’ Downy commercial.
And then the scene gets weird. Biter begins to fondly reminisce about specific masturbation techniques. I don’t think I even have a single technique, let alone techniques, plural. Biter, however, used to have sex with a cantaloupe. He’d put it in the oven for half an hour at 250 and then just go to town. Incidentally, don’t try this. Also, if you do try it, call me from the ER and let me know how it turned out.
As he was having sex with a melon, Biter says he would often wonder what a real vagina would feel like. He then confides, “I still wonder.” What the what? Biter has the charisma necessary to win a statewide election but not to convince a woman to have sex with him? It’s not that difficult. I know, because I’ve done it. I have two children. I’ve done it twice!
Whatever. In the reality of this movie, Biter is a virgin. He’s willing to influence the entire United States Senate in order to get a half-million dollar sexbot, but he isn’t willing to pay a prostitute $240. Salt Lake City is an hour and forty-four minute drive from Nevada; that’s all I’m saying.
Biter finally gets around to the actual point of his visit. He wants Bardot back. Bring her back, he tells Limus, by tomorrow morning. He then tucks Limus in and kisses him on the forehead. And that’s the end of the… no, he… this is the hardest news I’ve ever had to break to anybody: he kisses Limus full on the lips. On. The. Lips.
And with that, Biter leaves. I’m so glad I had you here with me for this. I don’t think I could have made it on my own. Oh, also how did Biter even get in Limus’ room? Limus’ parents never bring up any of this. Either Biter broke into the house in the dead of night, or Limus’ parents let him come in and molest their son. As always, pick the explanation that offends you least.
The next morning, Limus and Leonard go straight to the motel, obviously followed by Biter’s guys. Benny informs Limus that he can’t fix Bardot, because Bardot doesn’t know she’s a robot. Hey, you know what? I don’t hate that idea. Maybe it makes sense to program an android not to be aware of itself. Otherwise, the thing might start to ponder the meaning of life and have an existential crisis and then the next thing you know, you’ve got a full-blown Rick and Morty situation on your hands.
Hey, you might ask, does any of this pay off in any way? Nope. Bardot overhears the conversation, discovers she’s a robot, and it never gets mentioned again. That’s the universe we’re in. A cold, absurd, Polish Brothers universe.
The FBI comes screaming into the motel parking lot. And I don’t mean just our two guys, I mean the entire FBI and some regular police for good measure. Leonard estimates that there have to be forty of them outside the door. And I understand maybe finding two dirty agents to be your henchmen, but why does anyone else in law enforcement care about this?
Inside the motel room, the guys are freaking out. Bardot calculates that they have no chance. Limus declares, ‘Then we all die together.” Wait… die? Was that even on the table? Limus doesn’t care. “I’m bold,” he says, “and she’s beautiful, and they’re not getting her!”
You know, it occurs to me that Biter has played this all wrong. There must have been a thousand easier ways to go about this. Why not have his personal FBI agents visit Limus’ parents and let them put the pressure on him? That’s how Al D’Amato got his robot back from me when I was in high school. The whole thing took six hours.
Danny Masterson calls into the hotel room and tells them to come out with their hands up. I bet he says that to all the girls. Leonard gets on the phone and demands ice cream, soda, and a large pizza. Benny thinks this is a little crazy. Leonard tells him this is now a hostage situation, meaning they make demands and the police have to meet them. First of all, I don’t think that’s how hostage situations work. Second, and I cannot stress this enough, they don’t have a hostage.
Cut to Anthony Anderson and Rape Thetan 8 holding ice cream cones. Ice cream cones! So the FBI and the Salt Lake City Police see this as a hostage situation, too. They demand that the boys come out, get their ice cream, and hand over Bardot. Also, they eat the ice cream.
Our hostage-takers come up with a plan: Benny is going to go out and kick their asses. The careful reader may choose to note that Benny, as the sole adult, is the only person in any real legal danger. Limus and Leonard still haven’t committed anything other than a traffic infraction. Benny, however, is on his fourth or fifth felony of the day.
True to his word, Benny goes out to confront the FBI. Danny Masterson asks for Bardot back, so Benny punches him in the face. L. Ron can’t help Masterson with this one, and he goes down flat. That was extremely satisfying.
The 39 other law enforcement officers all make the tactical decision to just hang back and not, you know, shoot him. That’s usually how police handle these things, right? Whatever new, enlightened procedure these cops are following, it works. Anthony Anderson walks up and lays Benny out with one punch.
Limus and Leonard are now alone with Bardot. Their plan to allow a sex shop owner to fight an entire field office has not gone well. The FBI bursts in and a couple agents grab the boys. And then they load them into Leonard’s trunk. They don’t arrest them—they lock them in a car trunk. What the hell are the Salt Lake City police going to write in their after-action report? “Minors secured in vehicle storage compartment until they are of such age as to be married off to our wealthiest landowner.”
The bad cop/worse cop routine continues as they attempt to gently escort Bardot out. This ends about as you’d expect. Bardot goes full-on Melinda May on them, kicking and flinging them around and choking guys between her legs until they’re all down. And I can almost buy this. After all, it makes sense that civilian AI would evolve from military models. Those are the two basic uses movies have for robots: killing things, and having sex.
What I can’t get behind is the view of the fight that we get from Bardot’s perspective.
She’s assigned each guy his own personal hit points, ranging from 250 to 800. She’s also monitoring something called “dick threat” with such levels as: None, Pain, Pussy, and Massive. Yep, those are all the dick threat levels, alright. As she fights, her HUD racks up her point total, because this movie was made by eleven-year-olds.
Limus and Leonard are very excited Bardot won the fight. It doesn’t last. She tells them she’s sorry, but it’s too dangerous for them to be around her. Then she just walks away, leaving them in the trunk. A little while later, she’s walking down the street when a red sports car stops for her, and she just gets in.
Wait just a second… Who drove a red sports car in this movie? Oh lord, it’s that jerk, Rodney. But isn’t he the same age as Limus? Wouldn’t she just be putting him in danger? How does this make anything better for anybody?
Next week: Nothing gets better for anybody.