CURRENT ISSUE 6/4/02 Front Page Weekly Features Movie Corner To-Do List: Robert Mueller Moth's Diary News from Travistan Advice from Strangers Info Archives Crap Shop Who's at Fault? Contact Us!	Probe Movie Review by Alice Higgins Professor of Wymyn's Studies University of Toronto   The Sum Of All Fears Rating: 0 stars (out of 5) Let me get one thing out of the way before I start my review of this mixture of cinematic chum. If there was a choice between Ben Affleck and Nuclear Apocalypse, I would gladly stock up on sunscreen. The only time I ever want to hear the words "Ben Affleck" and "nuclear bomb" in the same sentence is if that sentence is "Actor (sic) Ben Affleck was blown into approximately 10 billion pieces today by a nuclear bomb." Why do I hate Affleck? No, not for his cleft chin or marginal talent. I despise the man because he DARED to present himself as a man for which an otherwise intelligent gay womyn would "switch teams" in the abhorrent Chasing Amy, a film atrocity that I equate with Birth of a Nation and Triumph of the Will. That said, Affleck certainly doesn't redeem himself in this big-budget love letter to the penis. Allow me to sum it up thusly: AMERICA: My penis is bigger than yours! RUSSIA: Nuh-uh. My penis is bigger than yours! BAD GUY: Oh yeah? Well my penis is bigger than both of yours! You guys fight each other while I blow up Baltimore. That's pretty much it, and not even the destruction of Baltimore can save this horrible film. Affleck plays Jack Ryan, and plays him woodenly, just like Alec Baldwin and Harrison Ford before him. The usually marginally elegant Morgan Freeman lowers himself to dick-waving proportions as well. In fact, because the film is all about people waving their phalluses at each other, there is only one real womyn character in the entire cock-fest, and she basically just serves as Ryan's come-catcher whom he routinely lies to without significant repercussions. Typical. No word on whether this character was a former member of the Sisterhood of Wymyn, however. I don't think I need to tell you to avoid this one, sisters. There's more wiener-waving in this so-called film than in six months of WWE wrestling. Perhaps if someone beat Affleck over the head with a chair I might be able to recommend it. Until then, sisters, you have -- once again -- been warned!
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