Movies So Bad - Well They're Just Bad!
Elaine May's 1987 Ishtar, has long been hailed one of the most abominable films known to mankind and seen as the very personification of disaster. My eyes have been privy to this film and I have found, although incongruous, it has it's share of appeals and Isabella Adjani is ever engaging and it has it's own certain breed of kitsch effect, which helps make it slightly palatable
you see I've been through the desert on a camel with no name.
I thought perhaps today, I would put my proverbial two or three cents in and list what I feel were true atrocities of cinema, films so shameful, that the respective directors should have electively relocated and embarked on their new lives as Siberian dissidents.
Now where does one begin?
Ah - for Hors d'oeuvre, how about the otherwise on form Paul Mazursky churning out 1991's romantic comedy ( romantic is being generous) Scenes from a Mall. A script so preposterous it would not be salvageable by a talent such as Woody Allen. And being stuck in a shopping arcade with Bette Midler for any amount of time, is torturous a concept alone, I don't understand how I actually went to the theatre to see this. The one saving grace was the Barbershop Quartet scene. I honestly do appreciate Barbershop Quartet, but it is evident a film is in serious trouble, if that would be it's only remit.
where there's a mime - there's trouble!
and of course any remakes or anything that says part "deux "at the end of it's title, the veritable no-brainers. There are so many unforgiving moments in reprisals. And naturally if a prequel could be ludicrous, why would there be another effort after that. Are you hearing me Grease 2?
This post is somewhat ironic for me, because I have always toiled very hard and scour over every realm of possibility to have something positive to say about most of the films I have seen over the years. Albeit, there is always rule's exception, and I have had such epiphanies, that Ishtar was a masterpiece comparatively
And then there are films that they almost demand you to find riveting, because of an artful scene or two, they insist you just have to love them. As if it was the second-coming of Godard dammit. One that immediately comes to mind is Michael Radford's 1998 B. Monkey, a film so up it's self, I was sure I was watching a documentary all about some kind of Berlinian anarcho-performance art -from hell.
to B or not to B Monkey?
I normally enjoy Aja Argento, mainly for being the offspring of giallo godfather Dario Argento. I indeed have rued the day I allowed myself to be subject to this ick-fest.
Now this of course is all very subjective and I know scores of you will beg to differ, alas, in my humble opinion those were some aching viewing moments for me.
you see I've been through the desert on a camel with no name.
I thought perhaps today, I would put my proverbial two or three cents in and list what I feel were true atrocities of cinema, films so shameful, that the respective directors should have electively relocated and embarked on their new lives as Siberian dissidents.
Now where does one begin?
Ah - for Hors d'oeuvre, how about the otherwise on form Paul Mazursky churning out 1991's romantic comedy ( romantic is being generous) Scenes from a Mall. A script so preposterous it would not be salvageable by a talent such as Woody Allen. And being stuck in a shopping arcade with Bette Midler for any amount of time, is torturous a concept alone, I don't understand how I actually went to the theatre to see this. The one saving grace was the Barbershop Quartet scene. I honestly do appreciate Barbershop Quartet, but it is evident a film is in serious trouble, if that would be it's only remit.
where there's a mime - there's trouble!
and of course any remakes or anything that says part "deux "at the end of it's title, the veritable no-brainers. There are so many unforgiving moments in reprisals. And naturally if a prequel could be ludicrous, why would there be another effort after that. Are you hearing me Grease 2?
This post is somewhat ironic for me, because I have always toiled very hard and scour over every realm of possibility to have something positive to say about most of the films I have seen over the years. Albeit, there is always rule's exception, and I have had such epiphanies, that Ishtar was a masterpiece comparatively
And then there are films that they almost demand you to find riveting, because of an artful scene or two, they insist you just have to love them. As if it was the second-coming of Godard dammit. One that immediately comes to mind is Michael Radford's 1998 B. Monkey, a film so up it's self, I was sure I was watching a documentary all about some kind of Berlinian anarcho-performance art -from hell.
to B or not to B Monkey?
I normally enjoy Aja Argento, mainly for being the offspring of giallo godfather Dario Argento. I indeed have rued the day I allowed myself to be subject to this ick-fest.
Now this of course is all very subjective and I know scores of you will beg to differ, alas, in my humble opinion those were some aching viewing moments for me.
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