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Without A Paddle review

Great movie, Deliverance. A raw, squalid odyssey of yuppie survivalists up to their necks in hicks, it's an exciting, troubling, eerie work still infamous for its emasculating vision of civilisation being savagely (and literally) buggered. Not exactly ideal source material for a fratboy farce, though.

A gone-on-holiday-by-mistake movie that shouldn't have bothered packing its bags, Without A Paddle shoves Matthew Lillard, Seth Green and Dax Shepard off into the woods to honour a boyhood oath and find the treasure of a legendary bankrobber. Rapids, grizzlies and rednecks bring on the pain.

Really, there are so many Alpha-Male clichés sloshing around here(Budweiser bonding, threesomes, group urination) that it's like being trapped inside Burt Reynolds' chest wig. They're a likeable bunch - - Lillard especially - - but their energies are continually trashed by a Shit Creek script that, in yucksome style, dares its characters to conclude: "Being alive. Now that's the treasure." Yeeeuch.

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