My friend, Heba (who, as far as I know is the only living soul besides myself who is aware of this blog), read that last post about Pirates, and when she finished, she texted me, "Interesting review[...] I know you didn't set out to write a scathing review, and that's fine, but I'd like to know more about why you didn't like the movie and less about everything else. lol." So that's Heba (who will likely appear a lot on this blog since--aside from my wife--she's my very best friend and the only person in the world who reads all of my stuff).
So anyway, in the few days since I wrote that last post about Pirates of the Caribbean, I've been thinking about what I wrote--particularly the part in the beginning about reading and writing 'slam reviews'. After more consideration, I've found that I have a bit more to say on the subject, namely: What the hell was I talking about? and Of course I read scathing reviews! I freakin' love 'em!
This does, of course, deserve some clarification (since, you know, because it completely contradicts my original stance on the subject). What I meant to say is that I don't read negative reviews about shitty movies that nobody (including the people who made it) believed could be any good. I don't need to see Richard Roeper make a few catty remarks about Transformers 3 to know that its special effects are filling in for its story. I don't need Peter Travers to tell me that Final Destination VIII is predictable and doesn't pack the punch of originality from the first film. Excuse the expression, but no shit.
What I like--no, love--about scathing reviews is when they are more than just reviews, but rather when they are deep, insightful dissections that stand as a cautionary lesson about what can go so horribly wrong in the creative process. While I've read many articles like this, they often tend to be so well ordered in terms of their ideas and their insights that I get swept up in the analysis, it becomes less about the subjective good or bad-ness of the movie, and more about understanding what works and what doesn't. A well thought out, calmly written analysis can often eliminate the angry undertone that so often stains a review with the reviewer's own emotional, intuitive response, rather than their logical appraisal. This is when reviewers tend to make dumb comments that would be completely irrelevant had the movie actually been good. You know those comments, right? Like the kind of comments people made about Tom Hanks's weirdo hairdo in The Da Vinci Code. Really? His hair? Like that would have been any kind of problem if the movie was actually good. Nobody ever said anything about how the Coens's decision to give Javier Bardem a Dora The Explorer haircut ruined that movie. My point is that bad movies are bad because of issues that run far deeper than the cosmetic, and when people get emotional, they tend to lose their focus of the actual issues and grasp frantically at whatever is readily available to justify their overall claim. It's not just movie reviews either. Think about the last time you've listened to a friend complain to you about someone else. "So this guy, he just, like, obviously cut in front of me in the concession line, then when he turned and saw the look on my face, he was just like, 'Oh, sorry about this; my movie's about to start.' Can you believe that? Whatever though, his fat ass would have probably passed out if he had to go another five minutes without eating. I know, right? What did his weight have to do with being so obviously inconsiderate? But I digress...
After kicking this horse until it's just a fly-covered pile of horse-mush, my point is this: if done right, the bad reviews can be some of the best. One of the best examples of this that I can think of is Mr. Plinkett's epic movie reviews (http://redlettermedia.com/plinkett/), in which he makes videos that span upwards of an hour and a half, and while the vulgar creeper/serial killer schtick that runs throughout the reviews gets old really quick, he really takes his time to get the reviews right. His reviews of the Star Wars prequels (which run a whopping 533 minutes combined) don't fall into the typical, generalized "George Lucas raped my childhood" type of comments that are so often floating around the internet, but really pinpoint and isolate everything that went wrong at the most basic level of artistic craft, and offers up support that depends less on knowledge of its esoteric universe, and more on the truths of storytelling that have been around since Aristotle.
So Heba, if you're reading this, I am sad to say that I am not going to go back and write a more extensive review of Pirates because that would probably involve me watching it again to take down and list all of my complaints, and I don't think I'm up for that kind of punishment again. I will say this though: if I decide to vent any more of my grievances on here, I will do my best to flesh them out more and really lay it all out there, instead of stooping to platitudes like, "Stop watching shitty movies."
You have my word.
Now, onto my next target: The Office, seasons 4 - 8.
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