Osmosis Jones

Osmosis Jones

There was this article in Reader’s Digest which I have had the opportunity to read way back in high school science class where I was taught in depth terms such as “I’m Joe’s heart,” “I’m Jane’s liver” and “I’m Joe’s colon”. If I recall correctly, the stories were quite well presented; however, I did not think very highly of them when I was 15 years old. In this case, however, students all over America have been given a far more interesting means of learning about the things that make them tick: Osmosis Jones!

This is the all-inclusive experience of traveling through the entire stomach, from the esophagus to the intestines. As such, I will not go into scientific and medical claims regarding the functionality of the internal parts that were so uniquely portrayed in the movie. Chris Rock, or any other person in Osmosis Jones, better not be in my body if I want to survive!

The tale is divided between live-action scenes and animated sequences. Bill Murray plays the untidy Frank’s character, who is inarguably the supreme host of the war set to unfold. They call him Thrax, the red death, and he refuses to leave Frank alive. This poses a great risk to beat cop Osmosis Jones and his white blood cell friends who patrol Frank’s internal streets and get rid of lower class criminals and other offenders.

As Frank’s inner bodies are being fought for by Mayor Phlegm Ming and Tom Colonic since they both want to dominate the political election, Osmosis and Drix, a common cold pill, are resolved to take down the bad men. It’s an adventure full of mush and other things in Frank’s gory head. Will good win or will the hot virus Jafar control everything? This is a mystery only the bladder can answer.

Exercise and watch what you eat. Otherwise, you might end up like Frank. Osmosis Jones is not subtle when it comes to pushing this health lesson. It is basic knowledge that two-year-olds should know. Frank’s daughter, Shane, bugs her dad like a bee on a hot summer day about taking care of himself. Her mother is already dead due to some “wrong eating” induced disease.

Thus, Shane is not ready to lose her father that way as well. On the other hand, Frank’s body is under the threat of a virus, and Osmosis is determined to thwart this rather toothy threat. This good-natured policeman is constantly being badmouthed and only longs for a chance to set the record straight and his reputation as a man of honor quite literally right. Drix, on the other hand, is going through an inferiority complex while Osmosis is adamant that it’s all about mind power, “I’ve had sugar tablets which cured cancer because all they thought about was they could.”

Visual innuendo features Osmosis’s head resting on a ‘naked’ DNA strand, as he reads a centerfold in a magazine. Several ‘female’ cells wear bikinis some of them dance provocatively at The Zit Club.

Infatuated with Leah, the mayor’s assistant who wears a short skirt, Osmosis has a motivational photo of her in his locker in which her face replaces that of a scantily clad pin-up of another ‘woman’. When asking Leah whether she would like to go somewhere quiet and do some dividing, a trivial pick up line, she responds that he is the kind of cell that gets “a lot of me time.”

Should we consider violent content scenes in which white blood cells zealously pummeled viral agents, Like when a cold capsule wets the germs with poison? If yes, Osmosis Jones is utterly saturated with violence, which, however, can’t be remotely labelled realistic violence. Yet cartoon-like violence pervades the entire show. Thrax cuts cells into pieces, as a Matrix style duel takes place between him and Osmosis (Thrax being the aggressor). A chorus of “bullets”

is exchanged when cops and microbes shoot at each other.

And perhaps the most gratuitous scene in the entire screenplay, a mayor utilizes a powered wheelchair as a trophy, then gets agitated and literally shoves the disabled child aside. A single muscle movement interpreting an earthquake. The act of sneezing interpreted as a storm. And so on this whacky roller-coaster ride.

A sore cell complains: “Son of a botulist.” A different cell says: “Holy Spit.” Apart from these such as “Nurse, dont talk meek,” “dams and oh my gods” remain sparse in the whole text. While inside Frank’s body, the offended cells reserve their wrath for his name, not God’s.

A drug-based prosthesis-related joke nudges at an angry cell unable to steal adrenaline. Frank and Bob indulge in a drunken stunt while still circling around sobriety. Naturally, Bob, the smart strategist, when dirty Frank shows signs of discomfort, bids him to chug some beer for rehydration saying “See, I need it!” Bob then inhales a cigar.

But every bodily function seems to have been made into a joke. When Frank goes to the loo, he explains that a hole full of urine gets drained. And Tom Colonic, the candidates for mayor ship, winks into the camera and says, ‘I’ll get things moving in this town again’ before announcing, ‘This is a guy just like you’. Hamsosis recalls the childhood by Frank’s backside, and has such a unique sense of humor that one almost fails to jump when he says, “Did you ever try to dry your hair with a feeble attempt to blow it off?”

In a real twist, Frank is above such thoughts as wearing his underpants in public. You just remember ‘The Pimple’. A moment when the pimple painfully bursts, your skin remains covered in grease, and your world view becomes nasty for half a day.

But for the zealots, in every sense of the word, holding all these images up, Osmosis Jones is 100% imaginative, creative, original, and most importantly enjoyable. It’s like a complaint about imitating the Fairly Brothers fictional saints Elliot and Brent Virase, who turn out to be infamous bullies on children. Honestly, can the husband of America who threw America’s only 50-year-old, washed up sketch comedian in the form of the Midwestern family with kids administer their history on Channel D?

Why do people like Lawrence use a vulgar tongue while creating cinematic empires of P, P There’s and Jason Firewall. Therefore, it looks as if a health class joined a cartoon about food or cartoon lovers, mastering extreme emotional cuisine. In all honesty, I feel happily overwhelmed. I had a suspicion this picture couldn’t have that amount of vile content. My state of mind hasn’t changed.

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