6-4-2 — an Angels/Dodgers double play blog: OT: Worst. Movies. Ever.

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Saturday, April 24, 2004

OT: Worst. Movies. Ever.

Okay, thanks to Will Carroll's discussion of the 50 worst songs ever, an abbreviated list if ever there was one, and then TwinsFanDan's logical continuation of that to films made me want to get my own thread on this topic going. The only qualification for this list is that I had to have seen it. In no particular order:

Super Mario Bros. (1993) -- In the last decade or so, Hollywood has started to take any source material as feature film fodder, and the trend, alarmingly, has extended to video games. Now, there's nothing wrong per se with video games -- I like Quake, even -- but movies and video games can't get along for the same reason that dinner forks and electrical sockets don't. Did that make sense? Neither did this stinker, a two-hour waste of time. Why did I see it? Essentially a dare.
Bonus points for Dennis Hopper, a legit actor with actual talent, even.
Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within (2001) -- Another two-hour time waster which I saw principally for the enormously overrated special effects. It's packed with portentious, ponderous piffle about ghosts and other such folderol that obviously meant something in the context of the videogame but are strangely less-than-compelling to the film's audience. Here's a question: if you can't write an original story, what makes you think a movie based on a plotless videogame will be any better?
The title clearly implied a sequel, which, mercifully, didn't happen, as the feature film division of producing studio Squaresoft went under shortly after this film's disappointing box office came in.
Under The Yum Yum Tree (1963) -- What do you do when your landlord is a tireless lech? If you had any sense you'd have your boyfriend pop 'im in the mouth, or call the cops. Instead, they made a movie about it and had the nerve to call it a comedy. My dad loved this turkey, which I saw in my middle teens and couldn't believe actually got greenlighted. A rare disaster from the very gifted Jack Lemmon; if this was the first time you'd ever seen him, you might be tempted to conclude his career was over.
Rabbit Test (1978) -- I really have it in for unfunny comedies. Joan Rivers is entertaining -- perhaps to the same group of people who also will pay to hear fingernails on a chalkboard -- but funny she is not, and this comedy un-classic wastes the talent of an amazing array of talented people, including then-newcomer Billy Crystal, Paul Lynde, Roddy McDowell, Imogene Coca, and George Gobel. On the other hand, nobody in their right mind would ordinarily confuse great comic acting for a recurring presence on Hollywood Squares. That encapsulates everything that's wrong with this movie (and a lot of Alan Alda vehicles): in TV you need to be nice, but film requires more impact and durability.
It's Pat (1994) -- When she's on -- as with the painful yet funny autobiographical God Said, "Ha!" -- Julia Sweeney can be brilliant. But when she's off -- as with this stinkfest -- she's just awful. I'm not sure whether I should blame her or the Lorne Michaels machine that causes Saturday Night Live to emit fully-made-stars (and wannabes).
Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999) -- Here's a quick quiz for you:
Lucky or Smart?
- Peter Jackson? A. Smart.
- George Lucas? A. Lucky.
George should have stopped about two-thirds of the way through Jedi -- no, wait, make that immediately after Empire -- because it was obvious he'd run out of ideas. All the more criminal, then, that having run ILM into the ground (by the time Phantom Menace came out, the once cutting-edge effects house was a Hollywood also-ran), he decided to resurrect the long-dormant Star Wars franchise. Phantom Menace proved only a merchandising vehicle to Lucas, a sled upon which to drag his toys along. But not only was it offensive in that way, it resurrected two undead cinematic clichés better left in the crypt:
- Blatant stereotypes from American movies of the 20's through 40's. Whether it's the Mr. Moto Trade Federation cutouts, or the -- for the love of God, please kill him now -- Stepin Fetchit stupidity of Jar Jar Binks, Lucas utterly failed to comprehend the megawatt creepiness of these characters.
- Putting the kid at the middle of the movie. Say whatever you want about involving children in a movie, in this case it's just wrong. No kid, I don't for a moment believe you're competent to fly that thing in a competitive race, nor should they have put the kid in danger in a crucial moment in the plot. And, he's going around killing people and having fun! No wonder he goes to the dark side -- he's already halfway there!
The Star Wars franchise is now larger than Lucas' imagination and abilities, and actually has been for most if not all of the last three movies. He needs to surrender control to others with better vision who comprehend the totality and possibilities of that universe. He needs someone unattracted to the gimmicks and crutches that Lucas has fallen for or tripped over. The proof of this is that the best of the lot, The Empire Strikes Back, was directed not by Lucas, but by Irvin Kershner.
Toy Story (1995) -- A lot of people -- especially those in Disney merchandising -- will have a hard time with this one. Haven't Woody and Buzz now reached Beloved Character Status? Aren't their likenesses on t-shirts, children's blankets, and on the shelves as actual toys? Yes, and that's about half the problem I have with this movie. Like Episode I, I don't see the movie for what it's trying to do but for how it's grabbing for my pocketbook once I leave. Part of the reason for that, as my friend Becky points out, is that Woody's motivations in this film are, for the first 100 minutes or so, all about jealousy. Seeing as how Woody is supposed to be the hero, this makes for a tepid if not hostile connection to the audience. Starting with a negative experience, the mind drifts to the film's peripheral but manifold flaws. Maybe not so much "worst ever" as "a huge variance from the concensus view and a disappointment from what could have been" -- much of which the vastly improved Toy Story 2 rectified. It pleased me no end that, when that sequel came out, the toys that everyone asked for were not the obvious Woody-Buzz-Jessie figures, but the freak toys cobbled together by the bad boy next door. If they were ugly, they shone with an interest and intelligence that the bland stars of the series could not.
Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) -- Sue me. Everyone loves the songs, and justifiably so. But the movie is hard to follow as an IRS form.
Plan 9 From Outer Space (1959) -- I include this mainly for completeness. Widely agreed to be the worst movie of all time, it also has its charms -- mostly those of watching a high school play where the audience knows one or more of the players. After about an hour, you'll find yourself zipping past large sections with the remote.