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A Courtship (2015)
A must-see slow-motion religious trainwreck
This mind-blowing documentary follows a 33-year-old virgin named Kelly who allows a devout Christian family to oversee her dating life. When a similarly devout Christian guy comes around, it seems Kelly may have finally found her husband-to-be. But a theological disagreement sends everything spiraling out of control.
Kelly seems like a sweet girl, but secular audiences may find themselves screaming at the screen as she essentially dooms herself to solitude.
This is a fascinating look into a hyper-religious subculture that leaves women devoid of agency. In the most terrifying scenes, the family's young daughters mirror the instruction they've been given, vowing that they must save their first kiss for their husband on their wedding day and that the groom should definitely "wear a Confederate uniform."
This is a haunting look at the dead ends some people pursue in the name of religion. As Kelly's mom watches hopelessly, her daughter throws away her future in the name of God.
Seek out this film and give it a watch. I would love a follow-up film to learn where all these people are now.
Donnie Darko (2001)
A weirdo, narcissistic collage of failure
"Donnie Darko" is the end result of 47 Weekly World News headlines strewn together in random order. Over one hour and 45 minutes, it rams together time travel, a 6-foot imaginary rabbit, a Tony Robbins-esque motivational speaker with a secret (Patrick Swayze?!?), hypnotism, an elementary school dance troupe and a stray jet engine.
What does it all mean? Not much. Ham-fisted, nail-on-the-head symbolism practically smashes you in the face. A creepy fat girl dressed as an angel. A statue with a dog's head and a human body. An old woman nicknamed "Grandma Death" who keeps checking her mailbox. An eye wound. The creepy fat girl's earmuffs. Heck, one of the ending shots is an M.C. Escher drawing.
The filmmakers would also like you to marvel at their camera techniques. Look, it's tilted! Now it's going fast. Now, slow. Wait, now it's turning upside down! Aren't we creative?
And be sure to spot the zillion story lines, characters and scenes ripped from other (read: better) films. The courageous English teacher ("Dead Poets Society"). The watery tentacles ("The Abyss"). An imaginary rabbit ("Harvey"). The lead character, wearing a gray, hooded sweatshirt, and his Halloween-costumed friends riding bikes ("E.T."). Meditation on the sex lives of cartoon characters ("Mallrats").
So basically, you're left with a sullen Jake Gyllenhaal moping his way through someone's bad LSD-trip. By the end, you're supposed to have some great understanding of your place in the universe. But you're more likely to have a great understanding of why overwrought student films are a dime a dozen.
Earth vs. the Spider (2001)
An avalanche of badness
"Earth vs. the Spider" begins well enough. You've got the cliched intro to the hot girl next door and the comic book geek protagonist. Toss in a few obligatory bullies and you're ready to roll. But then the film gets the bright idea to throw out any potential for originality and starts regurgitating the plots of "The Fly" and "Spider-Man."
And as the movie heads downhill, it gathers badness until it becomes a rolling ball of suck. Predictability? Check. Hot chick remaining inexplicably loyal to hideously disfigured nerd? Check. Superfluous third nipple that lactates webbing? Check.
Give credit to Dan Aykroyd for being the only one to actually try to overcome the material. But Marlon Brando in his prime couldn't make you forget a papier mache spider head.
Cool Hand Luke (1967)
You'll believe a man can eat eggs.
Maybe I missed the point of two hours of shirtless, sweaty men doing the same things over and over again. Perhaps the 23-minute (I wasn't exactly counting) egg eating scene had some sort of life-altering resonance. But I'm wagering the filmmakers had a bet as to how long they could show a grown man eating a particular foodstuff before people started trying to slit their wrists with the thin edge of their movie tickets. Watch the movie in fast-forward and you'll get the gist, and miss none of the nuance. (Alternate title: "Rebel Without a Competent Editor.")
Critters (1986)
1986 was a simple time.
In the mid-80s, Stephen Herek had a dream. It involved carnivorous oven mitts upholstered with shag carpeting. And it was good. (Well, not so much "good" as "ill-advised.")
As with the best visionary science-fiction, "Critters" is firmly entrenched in time. When the "Power of the Night" music video kicks in, we are unmistakably mired in the mid-1980s. (Why make a film that could happen any place at any time? Make it specific so everything holds up well in the coming decades...)
Confirmation of that fact arrives in the form of Billy Zane's state-of-the-art car. The pinnacle of 1986 automotive engineering inspires awe in the Hillbillyville townsfolk. But if that car exists today, it is a rusted shell of its former self, driven by a guy named Zeke and adorned with a long-faded Spuds Mackenzie bumper sticker.
Of the Critters themselves, I can only speculate that it took some serious substance abuse to think tribbles with teeth would make a good horror film. You may appreciate the nuance of subtitling the alien language, especially when they use profanity or make a bad pun. Then again, you may not. Okay, so there's no chance you'll appreciate it.
Can anyone explain how one Critter grew, while the others stayed the same size? Why didn't the others grow? Was there only enough money for a single man-sized Critter costume? There was no rhyme or reason to this plot device, except to say, "Hey, Mr. Viewer stick this in your pipe and smoke it."
And to the bounty hunters (the dear, sweet, misguided bounty hunters) I say, "Kudos." I don't know why I say that, but since they shoot anything and everything at random, it's probably based in the fear that they could come for me.
As far as I can tell, there's no reason for this film to exist. Maybe I'm just not thinking hard enough.
The Blob (1988)
File it in the time capsule under "Bad, but not boring."
For countless mildly intelligent mid-80s high schoolers with leather jackets, motorcycles and Hair Metal 'dos, "The Blob" proved that the dream could be a reality. They, too, could prevail over severe dental hindrance to see many of their hated rivals eaten alive.
Such is the story of Kevin Dillon, whose performance defines "cool." (For the sake of argument, we'll define "cool" as "poorly acted and far less convincing than Henry Winkler as teen-rebel icon.")
The movie's bad, but never boring. You've got gore, including a man attempting to sever his own blob-covered hand. You've got horribly telegraphed action. (WILL that attempted motorcycle jump have any future significance? WILL the stuck zipper scene prove to be important later on? WILL the Reverend's specimen samples ever be seen again?) And to top it all off, you've got the usual compliment of stock horror-movie townsfolk.
As "B" horror goes, "The Blob" fits nicely in the middle of the pack. Not the most entertaining thing you'll ever see, but not the biggest waste of time. (That would be 2002's "Scooby-Doo.")
Note: Of interest may be the man playing Reverend Meeker, Del Close. Close was a Chicago improvisation god who mentored virtually every great talent ever to rise from Second City. He's not widely known outside those circles, but his stamp on American comedy is undeniable.
Scooby-Doo (2002)
Now I can die in peace
Sure, you're curious. You've had your fill of entertaining and well-done films. You want to walk on the wild side. You want to sit through the cinematic equivalent of being fed through the Arby's meat slicer. And so you do. And you realize that 86 minutes could be better spent extinguishing lit cigarettes on your forearm. There is no moment in this film that hasn't been done better by even the least of sitcoms. Run away. Far, far away.
Gymkata (1985)
The Parmistani are a proud people.
The best thing about "Gymkata" is that it takes itself very seriously. Actual men and women worked on this film with no intention of creating a hysterically abominable failure. Yet, despite a premise that fails to produce anything beyond derisive laughter, the project somehow landed financing.
Highlights include: The Khan of Parmistan, a man who looks like Albert Einstein with Carl Levin's comb-over. "The Town of the Crazies," a village of criminally insane people. A man who severs his own hand for no apparent reason in the aforementioned town. A man (also in that town) who wears a cloak with the back cut out to reveal his buttocks. The oft-repeated location, "Karabal, on the Caspian Sea." The title card that lets us know when we've arrived at "Karabal, on the Caspian Sea." Princess Rubali and her odd fascination with cutlery. A man named "Thorg," who has been admired by the hero "since Munich." An actual line of dialogue that refers to "a nightmare in hell." The five punch/kick sound effects that get recycled beyond believability. A character who presumably fell to his death in a gaping, barren canyon only to have his fall "broken by some trees." The random placement of gymnastics apparatuses. The complete lack of resolution to numerous dangling plot points. Kurt Thomas's wardrobe and haircut. The men working at "The Salt Mines," who just poke a large pile of refined salt with hoes. Also, we get the privilege of seeing a shadowy government agent push away a gymnastics groupie who tries to get too close to a post-dismount Kurt Thomas.
If you happen across this movie, you must watch it. "Gymkata" stands as an example of what happens when no one offers a dissenting opinion anywhere in the filmmaking process. This is a technique that was later revealed in Joel Schumacher's "Batman & Robin."
"Gymkata" fulfills every expectation you may have of a film combining gymnastics and ninjitsu. Plenty of gymnastics, plenty of ninjitsu. See it with a friend and enjoy its many failures. All hail "Gymkata!"
The Pornographer (1999)
A Laughable Failure
This movie is hysterically bad. Complete with stereotypical characters, bad acting and a total lack of plot, this movie will keep you laughing for hours. My favorite part is when Paul (the "artistic" protagonist porno director) gets into a fight with a girl and then runs to his closet full of porno movies and tears it apart. Imagine the world's biggest hissy fit in a closet, and you've pretty much got the idea. Also enjoyable is the Spano character (the porno boss). Spano is happy and helpful one minute, cartoonishly vengeful the next. If this movie were good, it would star Mark Wahlberg and be called "Boogie Nights." Watch "The Pornographer" for laughs, watch "Boogie Nights" if you want to see how it should have been done.