Fantastic Four 2: Rise of the Silver Surfer, the sequel to the horrid and ridiculously, no right to be successful Fantastic Four came on cable the other night, and as I was feeling particularly masochistic, I watched it.

It was only 90 minutes, so at least it’d be over quickly. Not quick enough. Everyone is back, showing no signs of character development.

And even fewer traces of a plot.

The whole thing centers on the wedding of half the quartet: Rex and Susan. Seriously. Now if it were Johnny and Susan, okay EWWW incest, but then I could see the big deal.

So Rex Reed, aka Mr. Craptastic and Sue Storm, aka Invisible Talent, are trying to pull off their 3rd or 4th wedding attempt.

Because they want no interruptions or hitches or publicity whatsoever, they decide to throw a lavish, shindig. In NYC. OUTSIDE on a rooftop. The kind over which dozens of helicopters can fly. The building is a medium rise structure, which is completely surrounded by taller high rises, so anyone in or on top of those buildings will have a great view of the ceremony. Give me a fucking break.

Part two of the “plot” is the big bad: The Silver Surfer in all its CGI glory, creating global havoc with Laurence Fishburne’s voice, a fierce weapon indeed.

General Andre Braugher, who badly needs to fire his agent and get better scripts, calls on the FF to save the day. Only they pass on the chance to be heroes, what with the wedding day being more important and all. However that was a deek, as Rex decides to help anyway, much to the chagrin of Sue (he even brings his uber PDA to the ceremony). Naturally the Big Bad disrupts the wedding so you know; now he’s done it!

After a brief run-in with the Surfer, Johnny Torch Storm (Chris Evans) is changed for some non-comic relief and a totally obvious deux ex machina, meaning if he touches any of the quartet, powers will swap and wackiness should ensue. This mostly is so A) he can touch Jessica Alba and she can end up being naked (or suggesting she is naked, fanboy wank) and B) so he can screw the works with his hothead and all, only to be redeemed by saving the day. (Oops spoiler.)

The U.S. Military in all its stupidity decides, after seeing how poorly the FF did on their first crack at the Surfer, to team them with Dr. Doom for their second shot. Because working with bad guys is never a bad idea. Except when it is, which is ALWAYS. So in a not at all shocking twist, Doom wants Surfer (or at least his board) for himself.

Turns out Surfer good, board bad (along with its owner, fireball planet on loan from The Fifth Element). Because he was hired by Hollywood geeks who also think Alba is hot, the Surfer joins our hapless quartet to save the day.

In the final showdown with Doom and the fireball, after Sue is injured protecting him, the Surfer saves the world with an assist from multi-powered Johnny. Our lame ass excuse for heroes manage to seem magnanimous and arrogant, like they had anything to do with it.

They pull off a quickie wedding before darting off to save Venice from some impending, off-camera disaster. Poor Italians, they’re screwed.

Final Snark: Stop just stop with the shitty comic book adaptations.