Film Squirrel

We all know the feeling. The dry mouth that water won’t whet. The nausea that refuses to purge itself. The craving for a McDonald’s McRib that can only be sated by the gastronomical nightmare of actually consuming a McDonald’s McRib. Of course, I’m talking about the dreaded hangover.

Sure, we all have a home remedy we swear by - two alka-seltzer tablets fizzed into a double shot of tequila works for me - but in reality the only cure is time.  And what better way to bide that Sunday afternoon time than at a screening of acclaimed director Todd Phillips’ new comedy opus The Hangover.

The Hangover centers on three pals who must retrace their steps, and more importantly find the groom, following a Vegas bachelor party gone horribly awry. As their encounters become more and more bizarre – babies, tigers, Mike Tyson – they begin to realize that this hangover could last a lifetime.

The pic’s riding a heady buzz that should translate to b.o upwards of $130 million during its long and sweaty summer run. Take two aspirins, check it out, and call me in the morning.