I can hear some of you Kev-Haters now: “I told you! Fatty’s a sell-out!” Keep your two cents in your wallet until you’re on this side of the table, bellyachers. This is not an evil, soul-selling, integrity-lacking proposition I’ve entered into with this flick; it’s just the cost of doing business on this scale. And believe me, as far as money folks go, Bob and Harvey Weinstein allow for a lot more creative freedom than any other studio head in his or her right mind would afford us (shit, how else can you explain the fact that we’re being given millions to make a movie in which I – non-acting-motherfucker me – am one of the lead characters?). But sometimes, art goes out the window (and with this flick, it never even made it into the room in the first place), and cold, simple economics take the floor. Which means that if actor X sells better in the foreign market than actor Y (and they’re both equally as talented), you’d better believe actor X is going to be the studio fave.