The original film, which I call "Sarah Big & Ugly" wasn't bad, even though I wanted to clout the two whiny little rug rats in it about every ten minutes. This one, however, like most sequels, was dreck.
Five second recap: Sarah and Jacob are watching the weather in Kansas get drier and drier while all their neighbors pack up and leave the prairie because their wells have dried up. The barn burns down and Sarah has an unintentionally hilarious Prozac-on-the-prairie moment when Jacob tries to shoot a coyote that's drinking from their scarce water supply. Probably thinking "I've got to get this crazy b**** out of my hair!" Jacob sends Sarah and the two whiny rug rats to stay with her relatives in Maine.
Did I mention these relatives? Man, were they weird. I could see where Sarah got it from, and also why they must have been so anxious to pack her skinny ass off to Kansas the first chance they got.
Through her patented Weird Old Lady telepathy abilities, Aunt Lou (who must be some sort of prehistoric bulldyke in her overalls, working at the veterinary clinic to boot) declares that Sarah's got a bun in the oven. Then Jacob shows up in a sissy city-boy ensemble to pack her and the kids home since, in fact, it has actually rained back in Kansas thanks to his skillful deployment of sitting on the porch listening to Sarah's victrola and looking mournful. And he's absolutely THRILLED to learn that the wife is knocked up. Gee, I can hardly wait for installment 3. Not.
Five second recap: Sarah and Jacob are watching the weather in Kansas get drier and drier while all their neighbors pack up and leave the prairie because their wells have dried up. The barn burns down and Sarah has an unintentionally hilarious Prozac-on-the-prairie moment when Jacob tries to shoot a coyote that's drinking from their scarce water supply. Probably thinking "I've got to get this crazy b**** out of my hair!" Jacob sends Sarah and the two whiny rug rats to stay with her relatives in Maine.
Did I mention these relatives? Man, were they weird. I could see where Sarah got it from, and also why they must have been so anxious to pack her skinny ass off to Kansas the first chance they got.
Through her patented Weird Old Lady telepathy abilities, Aunt Lou (who must be some sort of prehistoric bulldyke in her overalls, working at the veterinary clinic to boot) declares that Sarah's got a bun in the oven. Then Jacob shows up in a sissy city-boy ensemble to pack her and the kids home since, in fact, it has actually rained back in Kansas thanks to his skillful deployment of sitting on the porch listening to Sarah's victrola and looking mournful. And he's absolutely THRILLED to learn that the wife is knocked up. Gee, I can hardly wait for installment 3. Not.