The Bleeding House

I should have just watched American again.
The Bleeding House is about an on-edge family with a deep dark secret or some crap like that, whose home is invaded by a nutball in a white suit who talks like Foghorn Leghorn.
The movie wastes a lot of time pretending that Foghorn isn't a nutball (trying to make him seem like just some friendly rube) when anybody who's ever seen a movie can tell immediately that the guy's off his rocker. (Unlike the moral at the beginning of Beauty And The Beast, in the movies all strangers looking for help are actually out to kill you.)
I almost felt like I was watching Dee Snyder's Strangeland again, except instead of it being Dee Snyder not shutting up about the spirituality of piercings, it was Foghorn Leghorn not shutting up about some sort of religious redemption stuff that at first went over my head but eventually just turned into white noise. I'm not kidding, it got to the point where my brain wasn't registering what he was saying as words anymore.
And that's the movie's biggest flaw (nevermind the fact that it's boring and the big reveals weren't all that big): it can talk all it wants, but it can't make the audience listen.
I'm not even sure if we were supposed to be listening. Were the scriptwriters trying to make a point? If they were, they didn't do a very good job of it. There was no substance or clear message or anything; it was just a guy talking and I'm pretty sure he understood what he was talking about, but I'll be dipped if I comprehended a syllable of it.

End of line.
-Sally