I've been paralyzed for the last seventeen years. I'm a quadriplegic after a tragic race car accident. My caretaker likes to put on movies for me while she goes to lunch to keep me distracting and keep the crushing ennui that is my life situation at the boundaries of my mind.

Today she turned on My Grandpa Detective and, not to put too fine a point on it, it changed my life.

After ten minutes of this absolute dreck of cinematic bulimia I defied all known medical science, stood up from my wheelchair, and changed the channel. Then I carried the 200 pound 1993-era flat screen to the river, plugged it into a nearby outlet (after buying a 100ft extension cord from Home Depot) and used the television to electrocute myself in the river.

I'm writing this review from the afterlife, and this movie still makes me mad.

I can usually tolerate a bad, corny movie to the end, but I am typing this as I am trying to finish watching this movie full of bad acting and writing continuity. I don't think it's worth knowing the solution to the mystery, as it is not making sense to me. It's worse than a bad middle school play. All. Of. It. I'm ditching it, and moving on with my life...Don't waste your time.