I love going to the movies on Christmas Day.
I first went many years ago, when I had a four-pack of movie passes to the Heck Piazza Dodecaplex and nowhere to go on December 25th. I called up three friends who were similarly at loose ends, and after a few minutes of debate, we decided that the 7:00 pm showing of the Nicholas Cage vehicle National Treasure sounded like just the thing. We’d meet at the local Gaijinized Semi-Asian Fusion Buffet next to the theater for a quick bite, then head over to the Dodecaplex's blandly luxurious environs for drinks, popcorn, and two hours of mindless entertainment.
Needless to say, all went as planned. The food was edible if not particularly authentic, the movie was fun without requiring too much brainpower, and a good time was had by all. It was a perfect way to spend a non-family Christmas, not to mention that I liked Trevor Rabin’s soundtrack well enough that I headed over to Corncrib & Peasant the next day to purchase my very own copy.
I haven’t done this every year, but I’ve done it often enough that it’s become a semiannual occurrence. There are usually enough decently entertaining films opening on or near the holidays to meet both my need for intellectual stimulation and my taste for middlebrow fannishness, I like heavily Americanized Chinese-like food just fine, and the theater is usually empty enough that I can comment, spill popcorn, and generally relax. Best of all, my local blood bank gives me free passes to the College Town Castellated Miniature Cinema, so I can save my hard-earned coin for gasoline, ginger chicken with string beans, and maybe some catnip to placate the Double Felinoid.
I’m not sure what this year’s choice will be – candidates include the third Hobbit movie and the Quvenzhané Wallis/Jamie Foxx/Cameron Diaz remake of Annie – but I’m sure I’ll have a good time. My needs are simple, my wants are few, and a few hours with a friend make even the silliest movie worth it.
Of course, some holiday films are very, very silly indeed.
National Treasure is a prime example – come on, does anyone really think there’s a coded Masonic map on the back of the Declaration of Independence? Or a Templar Treasure under a Manhattan church? It’s utterly ridiculous, but between Cage chewing the scenery,Justin Bartha stealing the film as Riley Poole, and the Masons as the good guys for a change, the film is about as perfect a piece of post-moo goo gai pan cinema as it’s possible to get. The aforesaid third Hobbit movie looks equally ludicrous – Lee Pace riding an Irish elk into battle bids fair to achieve some sort of apotheosis of the absurd – and I confess that Robert Downey Jr.’s manic take on Sherlock Holmes was terrific fun a few years ago. Even if The Battle of Five Armies doesn’t deliver, something else surely will, and who can ask for more?
It’s in this spirit, this yearly need to venture from Badbookistan into Dumbfilmistan, that I bring you tonight’s diary. This has been a hard, ugly, brutal year for many of us, and for every one of you who has the intellectual oomph left to appreciate whatever deeply sensitive, flawlessly acted, wonderfully insightful Oscar-bait drama the studios unleash on us in the next couple of weeks, I’d be willing to bet that there are a dozen who want nothing more than a dumb flick or two to pop into the DVD player once the presents have been opened and the alcoholic beverage of choice has been guzzled.
Tonight I bring you a baker's dozen laughably wretched movies suitable for nights when all you want is mindless entertainment, quality be damned. One is soft core porn that might have been a decent little flick if not for the talentless lead, two are vanity projects, several are based on comic books, and two feature a superb actor who more than amply demonstrates why the Medveds deemed him the worst actor of all time. There's even a holiday film that not only launched the career of a Starlet So Bad She's Good, but may be the single worst take on everyone's favorite jolly old elf that anyone, at any time, in any medium, has ever unleashed upon the hapless public:
Soft Core Silliness:
Bo-Lero (starring Bo Derek, George Kennedy, and Olivia D'Abo) – this movie, which was produced by John Derek to showcase wife Bo’s magnificent figure and alleged acting ability, is by turns silly, sexy, ridiculous, and surprisingly sweet. It’s the story of a free spirited young coed (Bo Derek, who looks as much like a fresh-faced college girl as she does like Ruth Gordon in Harold and Maude) who decides to lose her virginity and takes off around the world to do that. Highlights include a sheik who falls asleep licking honey off Bo’s tummy, a headpiece/wig thingy that looks like the shiny plastic nodules used in bead curtains, Olivia D’Abo’s waggling tongue as she reacts in horror to a bullfighter getting gored in a very delicate place, and a nude riding scene that proves definitively that Bo Derek may be a crummy actress but is a superb horsewoman. Saddest of all? There are a couple of scenes and the occasional line of dialogue indicating that this might have been an enjoyable little sex romp with the right lead instead of an all-time bomb.
Showgirls (starring Elizabeth Berkley, Kyle MacLachlan, William Shockley, and Gina Gershon) – Elizabeth Berkley was considered a promising starlet after her turn on Saved by the Bell, and this splashy, big budget look at the gritty world of Las Vegas chorines was supposed to be her breakout role. Alas, a director best known for misanthropic, violent SF (Paul Verhoeven), a script by Joe Eszterhas that swung wildly between soft core porn and backstage cliché, and some of the least plausible dialogue, costumes, and performances on record put paid to that. Gina Gershon and Kyle MacLachlan steal what passes for the show, Elizabeth Berkley tries and fails to dance like she’s on fire, fake volcanoes explode, and what must be all the glitter, sequins, Lurex, and lamé in Los Angeles fail to make up for the lumbering choreography in what are supposed to be high-end casino production numbers. I swear I could feel my pre-frontal cortex shrivel at times.
Vanity Projects:
Battlefield Earth (starring John Travolta, Forest Whitaker, Barry Pepper, and the ghost of L. Ron Hubbard as "The Beaver") – John Travolta has been, in turn, Vinnie Barbarino, Tony Manero, second fiddle to the voice of Bruce Willis as a talking baby, second fiddle to Samuel L. Jackson, Nicholas Cage's doppelganger, and Edna Turnblad. He has a ton of talent, is a skilled pilot and dancer, and can be very, very funny when he tries. Alas for his reputation, he wasn’t trying to be funny in this execrable adaptation of Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard’s bestselling novel. Travolta, a devout Scientologist, reportedly put up the seed money for the film, and plays one of the evil alien baddies in enormous elevator boots, a wig that seems to be made of dust bunnies, and long breathing tubes that make him look like his character should be named “Snot Man.” How Forest Whitaker survived this to make The Last King of Scotland is beyond me.
The Born Losers (starring Tom Laughlin, Elizabeth James, Jane Russell, and Jeff Cooper as "Gangrene") – this first appearance of hip, cool, non-violence-preaching, hapkido master/ex-Green Beret/Native American activist/all around badass Billy Jack was allegedly based on an actual incident. I say “allegedly” because this horribly violent biker flick is so badly written (by co-star Elizabeth James, whose family reportedly ponied up some of the cash for their talentless daughter’s breakout role), badly acted, badly cast, badly edited, and badly photographed that it’s frequently hard to tell what’s going on. Jane Russell wears blue eyeshadow as "Mrs. Shorn," Elizabeth James risks road rash by donning nothing but a white bikini to ride her Harley, and Billy Jack preaches non-violence and peaceful living by kicking the holy hell out of the bad guys. One good thing: no one sings, whistles, hums, or plays “One Tin Soldier.” Be glad of that.
Monstrous Monsters:
Daikaiju Gamera(starring Eiji Funakoshi, Harumi Kitachi, a flame-shooting turtle, and a rock that looks like a cut of meat) – Japan has given the world many good things: gorgeous silks, fuel-efficient cars, tasty food, consumer electronics, wonderful poetry, delicate wood block prints, manga, Iron Chef, and a wide variety of huge, lumbering monsters that stomp miniature sets of Tokyo and the environs into their component bits of balsa wood. Gamera, a gigantic fire breathing turtle with fangs that flies thanks to what appear to be flame jets in its leg holes, is one of the silliest. Mystery Science Theater 3000 pointed out that an Arctic rock that doubles as a star map of Gamera’s home planet, or something, bears an uncanny resemblance to a frozen porterhouse steak, and this less than convincing argument for not eating red meat is only the beginning. Best seen very late at night after consumption of more than one alcoholic beverage.
King Kong (starring Jessica Lange, Jeff Bridges, Rick Baker, and the World Trade Centers) – this soulless and completely unnecessary remake of the 1930’s classic is updated, uglified, and dumbed down for the Disco Era. Jessica Lange calls Kong a “male chauvinist pig,” the World Trade Centers are so badly shot they look like saltine boxes, and an expensive life-sized audioanimatronic Kong is so unconvincing that 90% of the “special effects scenes” are actually makeup legend Rick Baker in a gorilla suit. Painfully bad, but profitable enough that producer Dino De Laurentiis fully earned his nickname “Dino de Horrendous” by making an even dumber sequel that somehow involved heart surgery and "Konk [sic] coming back like Frunkensteen [sic], he come back crazy bad!
Makes the sincere but misguided Peter Jackson version look like Citizen Kane.
Surefire Projects That Misfired Like a Wet Roman Candle:
Dungeons & Dragons (starring Jeremy Irons, Marlon Wayans as “Snails,” and Thora Birch) – the studio that made this ridiculous waste of film stock was so blatantly trying to cash in on the upcoming Lord of the Rings movies that the Tolkien estate should have sent a flock of wild kine of Rhun and the 101st Fighting Nazgulists to stop it from being released. Jeremy Irons chews the scenery with great panache, Marlon Wayans is a perfect Black Best Friend Who Dies to Save the White Hero, an evil blue-lipped soldier kills quite a few people, and Thora Birch’s career in feature films goes over the cliff and splats in an inadvertent homage to Wile E. Coyote. Even D&D players thought it was dumb, and trust me, o best beloved, that is saying something.
Super Mario Bros. (starring Bob Hoskins, John Leguizamo, and Dennis Hopper as "The Lizard King Who Is Not Jim Morrison") – I’ve never understood the fascination so many gamers have with Super Mario, his brother Luigi, Princess Peach, King Koopa, and those weird little mushroom things. I do know, however, that they never, ever, ever should have been used as the basis for this enormous, expensive, witless, senseless bomb. Italian plumbers (neither played by an Italian), evolved dinosaurs, alternate dimensions, and the sewers of New York have never had it so bad. The film cost $42 million, made back less than half, and sank without a trace. Bob Hoskins, John Leguizamo, and Dennis Hopper are totally wasted, and not in a good way.
Not So Super Heroes:
Catwoman (starring Halle Berry, Benjamin Bratt, and Sharon Stone) – Selina Kyle, aka Batman’s supervillain love interest Catwoman, has been portrayed by many women: Lee Meriwether, Julie Newmar, Anne Hathaway, and the incomparable Eartha Kitt, and nost people assumed that Halle Berry would join this distinguished company when the title of this film was announced. Imagine their shock when the stunningly beautiful Oscar winner turned out to be playing the meek, timid corporate drone Patience Phillips, or that the plot revolved not around burgling Gotham City but on evil cosmetics queen Sharon Stone’s evil plots to inflict a deadly skin cream on the world. Berry wears what appears to be a cross between a bondage harness and those patchwork “real leather purses” sold by street vendors alongside “genuine pashmina” shawls, Stone is EEEEEEVVVIIIIILLLL for no discernible reason, and a ham-fisted feminist message about not using overpriced face gunk is buried in an avalanche of bad writing, terrible special effects, and a lot of turgid shots of majestic cats. Defines the term “hot mess.”
Elektra (starring Jennifer Garner, Goran Visinjic, and Will Yun Lee) – milky-skinned Jennifer Garner was not an ideal casting choice to play Elektra Natchios, Daredevil’s sai-wielding Greek assassin girlfriend. Then again, Ben Affleck, the future Mr. Garner, was not precisely great as Daredevil, so one can scarcely complain about Garner’s casting. This film, though – between dialogue that consists mainly of whispers, an incoherent plot about assassins coming after a kindly doctor (former and future ER star Goran Visinjic) and his daughter because of a prophecy, a lot of beautiful scenery, a lot of blowing drapery, and much tortured brow wrinkling and sai-wielding, it has to be one of the most boring, most annoying bad films ever made. See this and you’ll know why the rights to both Daredevil and Elektra were allowed to revert to Marvel.
How Art the Mighty Fall'n!
Boom! (starring Elizabeth Taylor, Noel Coward, Michael Dunn, a bunch of Doberman pinschers, and Richard Burton) – this movie, based on an obscure Tennessee Williams play called The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore, is a heavy handed allegory about a dying middle aged woman, Flora Goforth, and her highly symbolic romance/end of life encounter with the young, beautiful “Chris Flanders,” who is the Angel of Death in a clever non-plastic disguise. The play flopped on Broadway (the original Chris was Tab Hunter, so small wonder) but Elizabeth Taylor decided to film it anyway. Sterile sets, a badly miscast Richard Burton, Michael Dunn as a quasi-fascist security guard with a fetish for black canines and blacker boots, a headdress that makes Elizabeth Taylor look like someone stuck the entire contents of an Edible Arrangements basket on her cranium, and lines like "The insincere sincerity of faraway stars" and “Shit on your mother!” make this not just bad, but epic.
The Medusa Touch (starring Richard Burton, Lee Remick, Jeremy and several horribly unconvincing miniature sets) – Burton, who had once been considered the Next Olivier and the logical choice to receive Edmund Keane’s sword, symbol of British thespian excellence, made so many terrible films after Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf? that by the late 70’s he was reduced to working in potboilers like this one. He’s a psychic in this alleged thriller, and an evil one at that, as you can tell from theatrical posters that superimposed the word “TELEKINESIS” over his face. Dull, dumb, and so cheap you can tell the exact frame where the filmmakers shifted from an actual church to a miniature that appeared to be constructed from repurposed Legos.
The Nightmare Before Festivus:
Santa Claus Conquers the Martians(starring John Call, Leonard Hicks, Pia Zadora, and Bill McCutcheon as "Dropo") – this extremely unentertaining Christmas treat, which appeared to be made on a budget culled from unsuspecting children’s allowances, combines traditional folklore and science fiction in new and horrible ways. Santa is kidnapped by “Kimar” (the King Martian, get it?) to bring toys to the depressed youth of the Red Planet, and stuff happens when his absence threatens Christmas for the good little boys and girls of Earth. Bad green makeup, terrible performances by a cast that includes future Lonely Lady lead Pia Zadora as “Girmar” (the Girl Martian, get it?), and a song by “Milton DeLugg and the Little Eskimos” that will have you shoving fondue forks into your ears to make it stop – this one is enough to make Clement Clarke Moore eat his blunderbuss, never mind that he’d been dead for over a century when it came out.
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Do you go to the movies on Christmas? Eat Americanized Chinese food? Dance to the tuneful song stylings of Milton Delugg (who is still alive at nearly 100, and directed the music for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade in 2013?)? Have you ever even heard of Milton Delugg? Unburden your soul and pop that DVD into the player....
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