Take it from Snee: Jessica Alba kinda sucks

So I caught a few previews for Austin Powers 4: The Love Guru and noticed Jessica Alba is in it. You have to look hard for it: she’s only in the preview for a few seconds and she’s allegedly the leading lady. The same thing happened with Good Luck Chuck, that last attempt to cash in on Dane Cook/Ryan Reynolds confusion. You know what else these movies have in common? I don’t plan on seeing either one until I’m so hungover that the remote weighs 300 pounds. (And even then, the TV has to just happen to be on that channel.)

I’m not avoiding these films because they feature comedians sucking the last cents out of 10-year-old gags. I’m the guy who’s watched every Rodney Dangerfield movie ever made, including the one where he married five women. I just really, really don’t like Jessica Alba.

Yeah, she’s hot. I’ve conceded your only argument right there. In fact, I’ll elaborate. She’s hotter than any of my ex-girlfriends, including Michelle DeMars back in kindergarten. (You hear that, Michelle? It’s over.)

But what has she done for me — or any of us — lately? (We’re back to Alba, now.)

Not a got-milked thing.

Jessica Alba has yet to improve a movie just by being in it. There are plenty of bad movies that get a thumb-up simply because of a hot chick:

• Trading Places — This movie was so bad that only Jamie Lee Curtis’ penis-less breasts and a later cameo in Coming to America have made it OK.
• Star Trek: The Motion Picture — The only thing this movie managed to do was make me wonder what chemo patients look like naked. Also, it indebted Gene Roddenberry into making the greatest Star Trek movie of all time, The Wrath of Khan.
• Joe Dirt — Alright, it took two hot chicks in short shorts (Brittany Daniel and Jaime Pressly), plus Adam Beach, to redeem this one.

Anyway, this list could go on and on. My point is that Alba has had one opportunity after another to make horrible movies more bearable, yet she refuses.

Case in point: The Fantastic “Don’t Call It A Franchise” Four movies. These flicks are so badly written that even The Thing and a guy on fire can’t help it. If anyone could possibly make them watchable, it’s got to be the only woman on the team who also happens to wear form-fitting blue tights, right?

Wrong. For these movies, Alba adopts her one of two acting methods: blonde. (The other is “not blonde.”) Blonde Jessica Alba is the sweet, demure Jessica that may or may not hit people. (In contrast, Not Blonde Jessica Alba is the sweet, demure Jessica that may or may not apologize for hitting people.)

You may also recognize Blonde Jessica Alba from a decent movie that she nearly ruined: Sin City.

In Sin City, BJA plays Nancy, the only character that appears in almost every single issue of the original comic books. She’s not just a stripper, she’s the only stripper that Frank Miller wants to keep alive. Nancy is able to put herself through college, live in a nice house and own guns and a car with the tips she receives from dancing naked in a city where great, meaningless sex is only a short drive away at Old Town. She even turned on an unrepentant, sadistic pedophile.

In other words, she’s the greatest stripper that ever lived.

So how did BJA bring some gravitas to this daunting role? By never taking off her clothes.

And that’s why Jessica Alba kinda sucks. She wants to have all the embarrassing male attention that comes with cleavage and Maxim photoshoots, yet refuses to disrobe when the role calls for it. I can tolerate a bad actor — the world’s full of them. But there’s a trade-off: you get to make millions of dollars off of your looks by giving us everything we want.

I say all of this only in the interest of gender equality. Ladies, when Matthew McConaughey hams his way through your movies, he does it shirtless. Matt knows the drill. I’d also wager that Alba knows the deal, too; she just thinks she’s better than she actually is.