“You lousy bum!”

Kaleb’s rating: Bad like I didn’t know still happened.

Kaleb’s review: Seeing as how this is my first review as a real-live Mutant, I’d like to break the ice with a brief rundown of my inadequacies (Works like a charm on the ladies!):

1. I have never seen an Uwe Boll film. I mention this because it was my intention to watch Blaggity Goo Dungeon Siege (already tired of typing the full title), and it was only through a cruel twist of fate that I rented Dragon Wars instead. Although I suppose that since my objective was to watch a crappy movie anyway, it was really more of a moderate and even-tempered gradual curve of fate.
2. In the interest of making as poor of a first impression on my new employer as I possibly can, I’ve violated the tenets of due diligence by neglecting to watch the film twice before reviewing. I’m sorry; I just can’t justify wasting another two hours of my life on this turd.
3. I’m told I snore.

And here is the part of the review where I start to become annoyed with myself. Because I hate to sound like just another fat nerd saying “worst dragon-based movie ever,” and I realize that that’s precisely what’s happening. On top of that, my sanctimony is made even more grating by the fact that I’ve already admitted to wanting a bad movie.

And therein lies the problem with Dragon Wars: I wanted something fun-terrible, and it’s just regular-terrible.

The distinction is made by the fact that rarely does the film do anything laughably stupid, choosing instead to rely on nearly perpetual boringness tempered by a steady barrage of low-key idiocy that’s almost never pronounced enough to be made fun of. Watching it is sort of like being in the ring with a boxer who doesn’t have much behind his punches, but is too fast and aggressive to let you get in any of your own, and you end up having to just cover up and hope he wears himself out.

The only thing Dragon Wars really has going for it is the appropriately vast array of dragons presented therein. The pivotal two — the naughty and nice dragons, if you will — are both of the serpentine Oriental variety, which isn’t really my bag (Ooh! I’m all skinny and wavy! And my catfish whiskers make you feel threatened!). However, the remaining horde of lesser dragons runs the gamut: you’ve got more medieval-leaning dragons, dinosaur-esque types, flyers, ground-pounders, sea-dwellers, little bitty stinging dragons, big ol’ fat dragons, and yes, even missile-launching dragons.

In the end, I can only recommend this one to you if you enjoy all of the following: inconsistent prophecies, half-hour long flashbacks, special effects comprised of Sci Fi Channel-caliber CGI mixed with Power Rangers pyrotechnics, wooden acting across the board, and a token black guy who transcends the traditional trappings of his character-stereotype to achieve a sublime, household appliance-like level of disposability.

On top of that, you also need an insane love of dragons in general. And when I say “love,” I don’t mean a mere enthusiastic fixation. I mean, like, to an inappropriate degree. Drop-down disco ball and Marvin Gaye and everything.

If you meet all of those requirements, then by all means, watch it in good health. And please keep the details of your viewing experience to yourself.