Theater of the Absurd: Bad Films

Laughing Armadillo · Post by **Laughing Armadillo** » Sun Jan 09, 2005 7:27 pm

By deception or design, we all watch 'em. What was the last bad film you saw?

Collateral

Michael Mann's direction, a style known as Urbanus Slickus, was predictably lame - heavily dependent on crystal clear skyline shots and loud, rumbling noises to instill jaw-dropping wonder that will never come from the plot, performances or dialogue. Mann loves eye candy so much, he should leave Hollywood for Silicon Valley and design websites for a living because he'd be very good at it. But despite his appetite for the visual, he's no Steven Soderbergh and I don't care for Soderbergh, either. And he might want to apologize to John Woo someday. It doesn't have to be a public apology, but it needs to be done.

I never watch DVD extra features and rely solely on the film for my impressions, so I don't know Mann's intention was with this story. I do know that Mrs. Armadillo and I laughed until we were in tears at several points during the first thirty minutes. If this was the director's intention, it's nice to know that someone has a sense of humor as sick as ours. If not, he got very lucky. After the first half hour, it loses steam all the way through the predictable ending.

I won't elaborate on Tom Cruise's performance, but it didn't make me break out in hives this time. I've seen him do a lot worse. But, you know, he's still Tom Cruise, scientology fratboy.

The only one who came out a winner in this movie was Jamie Foxx. And in a Michael Mann film, that's not an insignificant feat.

sara · Post by **sara** » Sun Jan 09, 2005 9:17 pm

Hey, why don't you watch the extras?

I have absolutely no standard when it comes to movies. It's like, oh I liked it or oh, what the fuck was that about?

Laughing Armadillo · Post by **Laughing Armadillo** » Sun Jan 09, 2005 10:04 pm

Hey, why don't you watch the extras?

Two reasons: (1.) The film speaks for itself, and; (2.) It furthers my suspension of disbelief. Cinema as an art form (not to be confused with the industry or cult of celebrity) is one for which I hold some reverance, despite my masochistic willingness to wade into the atrocities.