Warning! Spoilers ahead but read on anyway because you don’t want to waste your time watching this one.
It’s been a while since Your Uncle Bruno penned (Penned? How do you “pen” electronically? There’s gotta be a cyber-synonym here…) – anyway, penned a movie review but trust me here I am doing you all a favor by “penning” this warning beacon:
Extinction is a stinker.
Make that a stinkerooski.
I have no idea if this ninety-minute plus waste of electronic celluloid (Not going there. You’re welcome.) was ever in the moving picture theaters cuz I saw it streaming on Netflix.
Thankfully I didn’t waste one of my two-a-month DVD rentals on this hound.
My dear departed Ma told me long ago “If you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all.”
Regular readers of Your Uncle Bruno’s Spartan Screeds know that advice never really took, but for this mutt I’m gonna resurrect it: if this had been a 23 minute episode of Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone whereby 75 minutes of dreck had been expunged it wudda been dang good.
The twist: the aliens are really humans and the “humans” are really Synthetics (or “Synths” as they are derogatorily called.)
As a Zone episode it wudda been a short & sweet take on Blade Runner‘s Replicants if they had taken over the Home World.
Or a riff on Battlestar Galactica, the version with the Hot Blonde, not the original Carter-era version.
Not convinced to take a pass?
To make this pooch worse, it’s preachy.
Right down to the PC allusions to “the illegals/synths took our jobs!”
Good grief already.
I half expected to see Trump’s mug revealed when the “space alien” doffed his spooky masked helmet.
So don’t click this Fido.
It deserves a quick extinction from the Netflix playlist.