"Last thing on earth you'll ever see. Wings."
What the heck was that? Rather, what was it even supposed to be? A love story? A fairy tale? I have no idea.
It doesn't matter if you're a die-hard Mickey Rourke fan from way back, a fanboy in total lust with Megan Fox, or if Bill Murray is your idol. There's just nothing here worth your time. Other than perhaps the most inexplicably hilarious, awkward, and unsexy love scene in ages.
The story is about a washed-up, formerly famous trumpet player who escapes from a hitman and finds a young woman with wings at a traveling circus. They leave her cruel caretaker together, and the musician hatches a plan to use the angelic young woman as barter to buy back his life from a gangster he crossed. Oh, and the girl is just a little too heavy to use her wings to do any more than float on a strong wind.
Now, try hard to imagine the most cliche and boring resolution to that scenario possible. Bingo, you are the winner! Your wonderful prize is never having to watch this!
There's nothing slightly romantic or interesting about Passion Play. No matter how many lone white feathers slowly drift past the screen, or how much slow piano music plays over lingering close-ups of faces, it's not poignant.
I guess some scenes are worth seeing because of the meteoric levels of WTF they feature. ESPECIALLY the laugh-out-loud ending, which was my personal incredulous highlight of the entire picture. Other than that, you get a lot of Megan Fox weeping and Mickey Rourke wearing clothes a classy hobo would be proud of.
By far the most interesting thing about Passion Play would be an explanation of why so many people thought it would be a good idea to make it. It's not the worst movie I've seen, but it's certainly one of the oddest.