Thursday, December 04, 2003
Cutthroat Island. I watched this one in Italy with Giovanni, fascinated. It was so rivetingly bad that I couldn't turn away.
Cocktail. The movie that made me long for the subtle plot turns and witty dialogue of Days of Thunder.
Shakespeare in Love. An offense to taste on multiple levels.
Moulin Rouge. Directed by Baz Luhrmann while apparently suffering a grand mal seizure, with choreography by Roger Rabbit.
Year of the Dragon. A stern, endless lecture about the evils of international unilateralism, delivered in the form of the dullest action movie ever made. You have to be Kofi Annan or Maurice Strong to like this movie.
American Beauty. An utterly loathsome, supremely contemptible, virulently anti-American screed.
1900. An unwatchable mess. The only redeeming factor is Donald Sutherland's hilarious scenery-chewing villain.
Caligula. The effect of watching Sir John Gielgud, Peter O'Toole, and Helen Mirren in an extremely unpleasant porno film is the most odd sort of embarrassment for them, as if you'd walked in on them while they were using the bathroom.
Breakin 2: Electric Boogaloo. It wasn't the Andy Hardy-in-a-crackhouse plot, it wasn't the it wasn't the Kabuki-level acting. I hate this one because it reminds me of the woman I was dating at the time, who actually liked it. *shudder*
Contact. For those who wonder why many of us can't stand Jodie Foster.