The rules are simple: Just send me one of these DBZA quotes to get my muse’s response!
I swear, I don’t even know what’s going on anymore.
I’m Vic Mignogna! Ahh my poor vocal cords!
OH, GO FUCK YOURSELF!
Now they’ll just waste their lives in a futile struggle to measure up to their peers until they’re nothing more than a crumpled heap of countless failures of broken dreams.
It’s edited by the Tiger Kitty!
If he could be any more of a whore for Adobe, they would’ve branded their logo on his ass.
I am hilarious and you will quote everything I say.
Oh no, I’m not a monkey! Oh no, the kid’s a monkey!
Hey, let that (name) alone!
Maybe I’m gay. Or maybe stereotypes are bullshit.
Guess I’ll do what any sensible Middle American would do in this situation: GIT MAH GUN!
BOOBS! I mean, (name)… Hi!
Yes, (name), I’m a green freakin’ dinosaur.
Take that, moon. Perfect orbit, my ass.
Hi, I’m (name)! And this is (name). He/she was a prison bitch!
I’m gonna eviscerate you and use your gastrointestinal tract as a condom while I fornicate with your skull!
Okay, consider yourself beef jerky while I’m Filet Mignon.
The eye! The eye! Why is always that goddamned eye!!??
We’ve been flying for two weeks now, and I’m starting to feel very tensed up. Not just for being trapped on the ship of course, but from (name) walking around in nothing but his/her underwear! I would relieve this tension, but I’ve had no alone time as the toilet KEEPS SCREAMING AT ME!!
So in short, shit be whack, yo!
Dammit, there is no muffin button!
I’m sorry, but if this shit goes any further south, we’re going to hit Space Mexico.
I’m coming, (name)! Quick, grab my balls!
Oh no, that minion died. Could you go fix that? We’ll continue this conversation never.
Freaky Alien Genotype.
Now let me put this in a way you’ll understand; I’m about to blow my load all over your insides.
I need an adult…
I am an adult!
Big talk coming from a bipedal bitch.
ALL OF MY HATE!
Son of a gum-chewing funk monster! Why the fruit does all this funny stuff happen to me? Forget my life! Always surrounded by miserable failing clods! It’s like this whole world just likes to bend me over and find me in the Alps! Like I’m some sort of shlock receptacle! Well as far as I care, these miserable cows can have a fancy barbecue, WITH A GODDAMN PIG!
Why can’t I feel my everything?
Every party needs a pooper, that’s why they invited you. Party pooper. Party pooper.
Renegade for life.
I never left, sir. I was outside, hitting my head against the wall for 20 minutes.
And so I tell him, ‘I don’t care who you are, now clean my jowls!’
Well Sir, if you’re having a problem with our Customer Support you can call 1-800-eat-a-dick!
Oh god. NATURAL LIGHT!
Did you try working the shaft?
Somehow we made this into a three-way.
I feel that they have finally summoned the dragon. Would be a reeeal dick move to die right now…
Ahh, if we had junk you’d be gay right now!
YOU CAN WIN! YOU FEEL GREAT! YOU! CAN! DO! THIS!
I’m beginning to think I have issues.
Hax! I call hax!
See, it’s like I told you, (name). “Like a bitch.”
You know what? All of you better duck, because I’m about to turn left and I don’t want to SMACK YOU WITH MY DICK.
Hey, I’m just like any other guy. I pay my taxes one leg at a time!
There you go again, throwing your hands up in the air like you just don’t care. CARE, DAMN IT!
I’M SO FUCKING HIGH RIGHT NOW.
Why aren’t you upstairs sleeping with your girlfriend like everyone else?
Y'all are bitches.
Oh a momma’s boy huh? I’ll be your mommy.
It’s called man-scaping.
…the fuck’s a condom?
Sooooo… Wanna go drive cars?
Look at my nipples, LOOK AT THEM!!
(name) JUST DONE STOLE MY GLASSES!
I was desperate and needed the money. And no, it wasn’t worth it.
Oh come on man! You couldn’t last, like, 30 seconds!?
And the prodigal asshole returns!
My heart is pure. Pure, unadulterated badass.
OK, first: What?! Second: The fuck?!
Oh my God, I solicited my son for sex.
Wow, you are just the Grand Central Station of disappointment, aren’t you.
Societal definitions of beauty are BS anyway.
All these squares make a circle, all these squares make a circle, all these squares make a circle…
Ohhh no. Oh, really wish I hadn’t! It’s all over my hand! Oh god, it’s sticky! And now it’s starting to harden! Oh no!
Could you speak up? I’m not wearing pants.
IS THAT ME STRONGER THAN ME?! I’LL FUCKING KILL ME!!
I’m coming, I’m coming… I came. Heh.
I AM THE HYPE!
At this point, it’s a game. If he gives in, I win. And he knows that.
When mine left, she took all my money. When yours left, she took all her money.
Sometimes you’ve got to know when to hold 'em, and know when to fold 'em. And right now, it’s foldin’ time. (name)! Grab M'Dick!
STOP FISTING ME!
Bitch, I’m adorable.
You’re either perfect or you’re not me.
You know! If I had a watch, I’d be looking at my wrist really condescendingly right now…
Well, I’d say I should’ve seen this coming, but that would be ironic.
I CAN SEE THE FUTURE!
My nipples are rigid right now!
Well, I sure hope someone picks up that phone…because I fucking called it!
I'MMA PLANT ME A DUMBASS TREE!
Seriously kid, if you don’t start bringing me meat I am literally gonna shit bricks.
Wow, I can’t remember the last time someone actually nutted up and asked for that. Congrats! Can’t wait to hear how you fuck this up.
Everyone’s getting sucked today!
Friggin’ hell. Last time I take on a guy with a pole that big.
He keeps kicking me in the dick…Why? Why does he keep kicking me in the dick?!
I have many things…a best friend that’s a turtle, an island, chlamydia… This…is not one of them.
No, you said “Hey, check this shit out!”, then jumped in a car!
Valli, once called “the most beautiful woman in the world”, had been in Italian films for 15 years when David Selznick signed her to a contract. She appeared in Hitchcock’s The Paradine Case and Carol Reed’s The Third Man, as well as shlock like Miracle of the Bells, but her Hollywood experience was not pleasant or notably successful. She returned to Italy and a string of film classics: Senso, Eyes Without a Face, Novecento and Suspiria. She also had a long and distinguished career on the Italian stage.
does the party have to be at our house?” Keith mutters, in between
ferrying Halloween candy around the house, like they’re somehow going to need
multiple bowls of it.
leans in from the kitchen, “Because you own a house.”
gets scattered over Halloween. There’s something stressful about having that
many people in his space, but also something good, because this is the one
holiday Keith can remember fondly. Shiro doesn’t know the details, but from what
he’s been able to glean, even as a foster kid it didn’t take much to shove him
in a discount costume and send him out with a bag to gather candy.
ever he did it with his parents, if he remembers, he hasn’t said, and Shiro
hasn’t asked. You can love someone without holding all their secrets.
is sprawled on the couch, legs propped on the coffee table, playing wingman for
Pidge and Lance so they have an excuse to get up close and personal on their
end of the couch—at least, it makes a nice story. The couch is Shiro’s second
love. If Keith ever leaves him, at least he’ll have something.
front door slams shut and Keith streaks by, again.
think there are tricker treaters coming,” he says, with the same or
greater seriousness he would use to announce a Galra cruiser. He stops by the
couch. “Are you watching another bad movie?”
Little Rosie waddling up to Sherlock and saying with that little voice of hers, “Will you be mah valentime, unca shlock?” as she offers him whatever she has just doodled on a piece of paper for him, and Sherlock would proceed to melt into a puddle on the floor, and try his darndest to hide the fact that his eyes are welling up with tears while Molly attempts to snap a picture, or two, or a hundred.
So my fic for @rosemoonweaver ‘s Fic-O-Ween challenge got a teensy bit out of hand but! Here is the first chapter! Don’t worry, it’s all written, gonna try my best to post chapters weekly.
Title: Lazarus Writing Rating: Explicit Ship: Destiel Warnings/Tags: Human!Cas, Writer AU, Bisexual Dean, Gay Castiel, Canon-typical violence and minor character deaths Prompt:
Castiel is an author struggling to come up with his next novel. Luckily for them, a gift arrives in the mail from his publisher: a fancy new notebook and pen set with a note that promises to “bring new life to your writing”. It’s all fine until Castiel decides to write his grocery list in the back of the book… only to find the items have materialized in the kitchen. So, Castiel is in possession of some freaky magic which could be pretty amazing… if it weren’t for the fact that he just started a new novel in that book and the contents are not something he wants to see in this world. External Fic Link: Read it on AO3
Castiel’s mood was not at all improved by the time he shouldered his way back into his apartment, groceries in arms. If anything, he’d spent the intervening hours only becoming more and more bitter about the fact that no one seemed to care what he wanted to write. They just wanted him to shit out the same old shlock. Wasn’t this job supposed to be done for the joy of it? It wasn’t like he wanted to write the Great American Novel or anything; he just wanted to write something original. Something meaningful, something true.
But the sad truth was that nothing was original and that truth and meaning were in the eye of the beholder. The more and more he thought about it, the more he wondered why it was so important to him that he do something different? What did he think he could do in a new novel that he couldn’t do in a Julie Chase story? Maybe he was shoving himself in his own box.
He set down the grocery bags on the counter and stared blankly at his writing nook. Well. You know what they say. Kill your darlings.
I was thinking about creating a pokémon Teacher AU and…
Lance: a maths teacher who’s fully aware that all of his students hate maths, so instead of teaching them about maths he just teaches them about his culture and heritage as a Dragon Master.
Steven: an enthusiastic, well-travelled and popular geography teacher whoes classroom is full of interesting things he’s brought back from holiday, like bottles full of volcanic ash, amethyst geodes the size of his head and a collection of various quartzes. His students like to prompt him to talk about his travels in the hopes he’ll forget to set homework.
Wallace: a modern languages teacher and head of the language department. Teaches French and Spanish usually, but also started clubs for students keen on learning Latin, Ancient Greek and of course, Modern Greek.
Cynthia: a history teacher who really doesn’t want to teach what she’s being forced to teach (“Kanto politics? Really? NAH IMMA TEACH YOU ABOUT SINNOH HISTORY SIT YO ASS DOWN”) tends to ramble a lot about stuff not relevant to the course.
Alder: teaches religious studies but nobody cares about that shlock, he’s the captain of the school football team and all the students know him on a first-name basis.
Diantha: a charming and friendly drama teacher who uses charm and the allure of cakes and videos to hide the fact that she can’t teach for shit.
I have a few more headcanons involving gym leaders, E4 and Rangers, but what do you guys think so far?
I saw a native american selling handmade jewelry in a festival. I wasnt sure if I could buy, because Im white and if I have dream catcher earrings or something, it'd be appropriation. But, the native man was inviting ppl to wear, by selling them, and it makes up his income, in which case my money would be supporting an actual native. But, sometimes I wonder if natives are pressured to sell what looks "authentic" to white ppl, but is more like tourist shlock, because they need money. Any advice?
It happens a lot where natives sell things that are still native made, but are something that has become mainstreamed to fit white peoples narrative of what Native looks like. Dream catchers are very common, even though they’re specifically from the Objiwe tribe. Other things you’ll notice that’s been mainstreamed in native art is certain patterns and wolves.
My advice is, still buy from and support them. It’s not appropriation to wear native made jewelry or own native made art. But when it comes to dream catchers, please buy from an ojibwe native instead and don’t buy them in earring and necklace form.
i've been scrolling through your blog for a bit and i just wanna say that i think that D.C. went through a rough stage a while back and marvel took full advantage of that shit and it sucks like DC could make the superhero movie of the century and people would be like :/ it's D.C. tho n not marvel while marvel can crank out some ass shit that they wrote in three days and as long as it has some "cool" actor people will praise that shit like it's fucking jesus himself in movie form n just ughhhhhh
I mean, I honestly don’t think DC’s had much of a rough stage since the unspeakably bad Burton-Schumacher Batman films of the 80s and 90s. Their film studio was just about dead after that and they tried to make a few other things happen but they just sorta fizzled at best and crashed and burned at worst. “Batman Begins” frankly revitalized the superhero genre and the Nolan series maintained relative consistency in terms of tone and story for the seven years it spanned.
The Nolan Batman movies were a catalyst for change in the genre for a couple of reasons, but the largest of them is that suddenly superhero movies were actually viewed as, like, legit movies and not just shallow popcorn films. DC and Marvel took two very different approaches to this.
DC doubled down on the Nolan series’ more grounded, human, artistic take on the superhero genre and tried to showcase their superheroes as flawed and vulnerable, which is great because it’s kind of their comics’ strong suit. Marvel went in the exact opposite direction and created movies that were outlandish fantasies– and this is not a dig, outlandish fantasy is a hell of a lot of fun and it was necessary for them to establish a distinct identity that plays more to their comics’ strengths.
See, DC is more character-oriented and Marvel is more story-oriented. It’s why DC can basically have a whole graphic novel where Batman just sits around introspecting and have it be good, and why Marvel can tell a more compelling story about characters nobody’s ever heard of. When they try to take on the other’s strengths, you end up with something unwatchably bad, which brings me back to the subject of DC’s supposed “rough patch” and the quality double standard where DC delivering anything short of absolute perfection is marked as a miserable failure while Marvel can phone it in and still have people rave about their movies:
DC’s films, since the Nolan trilogy revived their film studio from the brink, has had exactly one major misstep, and it happened because they tried to emulate the success of Marvel’s smash success “Iron Man” in tone with the Ryan Reynolds Green Lantern film. Believe it or not, Man of Steel, Batman v. Superman, and Suicide Squad were all relatively successful films commercially and were enjoyed by most of their audience. The people who hated them were much louder and more obnoxious about it, but DC’s movies actually do have a passionate fanbase and they’re really only gaining more fans with each movie they release. Their one major flop was “Green Lantern” and the main problem with that is that most people aren’t gonna enjoy a faithful adaptation of Green Lantern comics because Green Lantern comics are by and large inaccessible
Marvel, on the other hand, produces more Misses than Hits. They’ve got some amazing films (Iron Man 1, Captain America, CA:TWS, Avengers 1) but they’ve also got a whole bunch of films that are bland and mediocre at best and soul-crushingly unwatchable at worst (Iron Man 2, Iron Man 3, Civil War, Age of Ultron, Guardians of the Galaxy, the list goes on but so many of their movies have been so forgettable I can’t be bothered)
So this sounds like I’m refuting your point, but I think it really says something that DC’s films are considered to have had a “rough patch” of one movie whose biggest fault is that it was mediocre compared to the more recent superhero fare of Iron Man 1 and The Dark Knight, while Marvel can produce hours upon hours of tangled inaccessible shlock that’s led to people being so fatigued by their universe that the most exciting thing a Marvel trailer can contain at this point is "indications that they’re finally going Off Brand”
Anyway yeah you’re right on most counts, specifically that Marvel’s early successes largely came from an attempt to distinguish themselves from DC’s most popular superhero films, which were very insulated in terms of continuity (Batman Begins and Superman Returns, for example, don’t reference taking place in the same world as one another) and people really liked Marvel’s movies having clear crossovers building to a team-up (Fury mentions the Avengers in “Iron Man,” Tony shows up in “Incredible Hulk,” Tony’s dad is in Cap 1, Natasha shows up in Iron Man 2, etc.) and there was a really satisfying payoff to that in “The Avengers”
The problem is that now every movie just tries to up the ante on that payoff and we get diminishing returns. Do you know how many superheroes need to be in a Captain America movie at all? One. Do you know how many superheroes played a major role in the plot of Cap 3? I count eleven off the top of my head, and that’s for a solo movie! By contrast, Avengers 1, a team movie with an ensemble cast, had seven superheroes playing a major role if you count Fury as a superhero (which IMO you should). And instead of trying to deliver something new in other films, they just keep trying to double down on “look how much continuity!” to the point where I’m honestly fatigued just looking at the poster for “Infinity War” because at my last count there were over two dozen main characters and ScarJo has threatened us with even more cameos and crossovers than that.
That’s one of the (many) reasons I’m looking forward to Black Panther. You know who I didn’t see in that trailer? Anyone from any other goddamn marvel movie other than Black Panther. It looks like they’re finally trying to deliver something new instead of just trying to deliver something that’s The Same But Louder.
Anyway point is you’re right that Marvel spent their first five years setting up a payoff and have spent the five years since delivering that payoff trying in vain to get lightning to strike a second time, and unfortunately their formula is treated as the scientific standard for superhero films to the point that making a movie that doesn’t adhere to that formula is seen as a failure for some ungodly reason
When I was child, I had extremely limited access to movies in general, due to my parents’ hippyish media paranoia. This had the desired effect of making me read more, although most of what I read either resembled the reviled horror movies that obsessed me, or was actually about said movies. A couple of dogeared books of shlock criticism and history kept me company throughout these years, and with their aid, I read about Jack Hill’s incomparable SPIDER BABY over and over again. I simply could not conceive of it. It had the trappings of an innocent Addams Family style affair: it was in black and white, it was apparently comedic, and it even boasted a goofy theme song with word salad-y lyrics that might has well have advertised for Count Chocula and Frankenberry. However, its plot was rife with incest, rape, murder, and generalized perversion of a sort rarely attempted in more obviously adult exploitation films. What could this movie possibly be like?
It would be quite a long time before I found out, and what I would find was that the literature I’d pored over was surprisingly accurate. Lon Chaney, Jr. plays Bruno, the defacto patriarch of an orphaned trio of siblings who suffer from a rare degenerative brain disease that reduces them to a progressively childlike mental state. The stunted teenagers are living happily in the remote familial Merrye manse, sustaining themselves with a diet of bugs and varmints and cohabitating corpses and cannibals, until a juicy-looking civil servant happens by with an ominous message about some distant relatives slated to arrive at any moment. These interloping normies are here to claim the substantial Merrye estate as their own. Bruno attempts to hide his wards’ peculiarities–Ralph’s mismatching infantile behavior and adult sexuality, Virginia’s role playing as a deadly spider, Elizabeth’s passionate obsession with HATE–but wouldn’t you know it, the greedy cousins’ presumptuous behavior prompts these eccentricities to escalate, leading to a sticky end for most of the cast.
While SPIDER BABY (OR, THE MADDEST STORY EVER TOLD as per the credits) inevitably suffers from the usual hallmarks of a B-grade horror film, with pacing problems, impoverished production values, and loopy dialog, it is also utterly magical. Living dolls Jill Banner and Beverly Washburn play their dueling bad seed characters with a demented vivaciousness that makes a mockery of the mature sensuality wielded by their obnoxious cousin Emily, who gets what she deserves after performing a ludicrous masturbatory dance number in front of her bedroom window. The great Sid Haig has no lines, but speaks volumes with his incredible body, which explodes out of a Little Lord Fauntleroy-like getup. (Haig took dance lessons in his youth to preserve his motor skills against the ill effects of his abnormally accelerated growth, and it shows) As these three prowl about the heavily stylized Merrye house, closing in on their pompous prey, the viewer is apt to relate more heavily to these antiheroes than any other slashers in the genre.
Slasher movies, as we know, are often accused of giving vicarious vent to puritanical feelings about societal hygiene. Jason Voorhees purges premarital sex, drug abuse, and other expressions of teen anarchy from Camp Crystal lake, just as misogynistic and jealous viewers might like to do to peers who they perceive as having more fun at the expense of the law. The Merrye children, on the other hand, target the adult arbiters of rectitude as their victims. The girls gleefully drag the cigar-chomping lawyer Schlocker to his death as he ludicrously harangues them about morality, taste and bureaucracy–something I’m sure director Jack Hill would love to do to uptight critics who might fail to recognize the greatness of his many “exploitative” girl gang and women’s prison movies. Sure, the Merrye children are a bunch of violent perverts whose very existence goes against the dictates of nature, but they are also individuals fighting for their right to live life their own way. The ostensible hero, smarmy cousin Peter, thinks he can worm his way into their hearts with his Ken doll physique and condescending bullshit, but he’ll find that the affection of these three terrors is still a very Merrye affection. It’s their world, we’re just dying in it.
I’m very much open to submissions from the audience, but I have a very hard time thinking of any movie with quite this story, told so strongly. You could draw a line from BONNIE & CLYDE to THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE to NIGHTBREED through all the movies you can think of about outsider societies, but you’ll still find some characters too controlled and predictable, some too traditionally sympathetic, some too entirely evil. Jack Hill skillfully imbues his characters with a unique blend of anarchic sadism and personal integrity that’s hard to match. The only movies I can immediately think of that even come close are every single Rob Zombie movie that isn’t a literal remake of something, and the less said about those the better–especially since the presence of Sid Haig isn’t the only signal that Mr. Zombie seems to have based his entire career directly on SPIDER BABY alone.
I hadn’t seen SPIDER BABY in a long time when I selected it for Saturday night’s review, and I found that I related to it even more as an adult suffering the ravages of our Kafkaesque society than I did as a young precociously pervy gorehound. If the dark heroics of the Merrye clan don’t make you sit up and applaud, you need to get your spine checked.
I’m going to add, because I never know how to close these things out, that the appearance of noir staple Carol Omhart as vain cousin Emily triggered a surreal argument between my fiancé and I about whether SPIDER BABY actually stars Meryl Streep–which is certainly the maddest conversation I have ever had. There is, of course, no reason to anticipate such a shock in this movie, but I did discover a fact about Ms. Omhart that I hadn’t heard before. Here she is sporting a rather different look, with comics master Milton Caniff, posing for the character Cooper Calhoon in his epic adventure strip Steve Canyon. Whooda thunkit.
A non-canon fanfiction about jamesab’s characters Sabrina and wallace.
“Oh Wallace, what are you doing up?” Sabrina was surprised that the android would be up so late. Most nights he’d power down before ten and it was almost midnight.
“I wanted to make sure.” He paused the servos in his head whiring. “you said you’d be home tonight and I wanted to see you before I powered down.”
“Oh well that’s sweet. Is that all you wanted?”
“Ha, well I’m not tired yet wanna hear about my night?”
“Kinda blunt tonight huh.” Sabrina was used to how blunt he could be, hell he was a killing machine after all, but sometimes she wished he’d loosen up. “Anyway I met this guy and he was pretty big and cute looking to boot so I decided I’d get down with him.”
“Sounds like a nice time.” Wallace was stone faced as ever, he literally couldn’t care that his wife had had sex with someone else.
“It was, but yeah the weird thing is that this dude is totally into my feet and like nothing else.”
“Feet are not necessary to sexual reproduction.”
Sabrina laughs. “Yeah they are not. God Wallace you say the weirdest shit sometimes. So yeah I told this guy he couldn’t kiss or lick my feet but I was cool with whatever else he wanted to do. And basically I got a foot massage during sex.”
“It was. Anyway I’m going to put my stuff away and change.” She sets her purse down and heads to their bedroom.
“Sabrina, would you like to watch a movie. If you are not too tired of course.”
She looks back at Wallace, if she didn’t know any better she’d say he looked nervous. “Yeah, pick the movie while I change.”
A couple minutes pass during which Wallace takes a blanket from the closet incase Sabrina gets cold then he pops some popcorn and finally he picks out the movie.
When Sabrina finally comes back she’s wearing a black t-shirt, she’d actually bought it for Wallace but she wears it a lot more, and pajama pants.
“So stud,” She says as she flops down onto the couch. “What’re we gonna watch tonight?”
“Titanic directed by James Cameron.”
“Really that romantic shlock?” Sabrina laid the blanket Wallace had grabbed across her lap as she was talking.
The appeal of bad movies has been, I’d say, a fairly consistent part of moviegoing culture. While the “midnight movie” in the Seventies made it more well-known, schadenfreude in the cinema has been around probably since the medium’s inception. Luis Buñuel’s 1933 documentary Land Without Bread presented openly false or exaggerated information in a Fishing With John-esque dissonance between footage and narrator. (it’s debatably the first “mockumentary”), implying a deliberately contentious relationship between filmmaker and audience. The latter have since taken up arms of their own, from the Razzies to Michael Medved’s “Golden Turkey Awards” to Mystery Science Theatre 3000 and its successors.
Watching a film with the deliberate aims of seeing something bad, whether out of genuine curiosity or mockery, is inherently a subversive act. It takes the expectations of what we want from the medium and reverses them. By extension, it’s an approach that discourages any kind of formalism beyond drinking games or common games in midnight screenings.
I don’t want to sound like the frumpy dad forcing everyone to stop playing, but I do think it’s valuable to address some specific elements of bad movies - or at least the best and most interesting. Deliberate shlock producers have steadily been trying to use the concept as something of a shield, justifying bad productions for a misunderstood conception of “irony.” I have no problem with camp or goofiness, but films that try to climb on it rarely are as fun to watch as they are to make.
One of their biggest problems, and the focus of tonight, is a lack of perspective. Too many movies really suffer from a lack of focus, intent, and position, which results in more acceptable but less exciting or specific movies. Many, if not all, of the best films all have a clear focus that galvanizes them, and without it a film often has a much harder time bridging its themes, visual style, and ethos. And while many of them lack much else, many of the best and most beloved bad movies also have a specific focus.
I once theorized that the chief appeal of the Room was less from its badness than its weirdness, although the two certainly mix extensively. It’s impossible to separate the bad technical and narrative and thematic decisions from the vision of Tommy Wiseau, which resulted in a film that looks and sounds unlike any other film in history.
It’s important to consider how singular Wiseau’s vision was, from the narrative dead-ends to the confusing references to the man’s own life clearly meant for himself alone, though he also clearly thinks they will enthrall everyone else. In other words, it’s this attitude and point of view around which the entire film rotates. The Room orbits around Wiseau, and his specific logic makes its universe work.
Of course, the man’s a huge cult icon, so let’s go with something less eternally-discussed. Troll 2 may not necessarily seem like a particularly auteurist work, but it’s power comes less from its bad troll goblin costumes than its odd ideas and themes. The movie is, improbably, a deliberate anti-vegetarian screed, presenting a meatless diet as conspiratorial and deadly. Having the climax of the film be a child eating a “double-decker bologna sandwich” to destroy Stonehenge really only exists in the mind of an auteur with no ability to translate confusing high concept ideas into anything remotely sensical.
It’s also filled with primo bad movie problems, like the lack of communication between its American cast and Italian crew that led to some truly inspired line readings. Things like specific lines seem to skirt the two, like the father’s comments about how “you don’t piss on hospitality,” or the odd interpretation of rural American life. But again, it’s a movie that can’t plausibly be faked, because it’s just so specific in its eccentricities.
Birdemic is also a movie that can’t be faked, and one that is a legitimate contender, but it’s a fundamentally weaker contender. Part of that is due to its atrocious cinematography and pacing, the kind more acceptable in amateur home movies than in anything that would reasonably be sold to the public. But despite being clearly from the mind of James Nguyen, it has little focus in its aims or ideas.
From the film, we know Nguyen is concerned about the environment, as well as other liberal or progressive causes (the man in the forest, the free promotion for Yoko Ono’s Imagine Peace website, the distraught veteran). And as Wiseau loves Tennessee Williams, he adores Hitchcock. But partially due to the bird attack at the halfway point, and partially due to a total lack of coherence to any of the dialogue and audio, it’s not as endlessly fascinating. Alan Bagh as idiot protagonist Rod is strikingly incompetent, but his total lack of affect isn’t as exciting as the more hammy performances, which are only found in minor characters.
After the novelty of the animation wears off, the film just crawls to a slog. Outside of some truly brilliant moments, the bird fights are less engaging than, say, just hanging out with the family or random million dollar sales. In Nguyen’s attempt to ape mainstream films, he takes their most banal elements and makes the even less interesting - specifically, action scenes that wear out their welcome after the first scene and keep going. It’s almost the exact same runtime as the Room, but it’s not as consistent, which makes it less satisfying. But it’s still a strong example of a complete lack of self-awareness, which makes the idea of a self-aware comedy sequel less appetizing.
And it’s that idea of aping mainstream films that’s really central to not only these three, but really all bad movies: a failed ambition to be something they never could. It makes sense for filmmakers to focus on successes to follow, but in a way their failures are illuminating about the successes, not just in what they do right but what they do wrong. When Delgo or Foodfight! tried to copy the successes of contemporary animated films, the stunt-castings and puns of Dreamworks productions had aged atrociously, and their own attempts at the same were markedly worse. And of course, it’s not as though there aren’t giant, faux-blockbuster bombs that captured the imagination, like Battlefield Earth or Heaven’s Gate, but those are usually just as focused in their ideas.
Ultimately, the importance of a great bad movie, more than anything else, is a lack of realization into its badness, and an attempt at reaching for a peak that’s always out of reach. It’s why Troll 2 is more beloved than Saturday the 14th, and why Tommy Wiseau’s stint of cameos and follow-ups is more pathetic and dispiriting than fun. And a lot of that lack of self-awareness comes into play with a specific perspective, one that otherwise would never believe in the wonderful curiosities it created.
I liked Remenders Cap run but hated his Uncanny avengers. Like romancing Wanda with Simon. Which was so dumb. That being said his concepts have always been fun an interesting. Even Axis was dumb fun even if poorly written shlock. I certainly can't say that about Aaron, who's ruined every character I like. His X-Men was shit, so was his hulk and thor. The only thing I enjoyed by him was Black Panther and Wolverine.
focusing on the Red Skull weren’t that great, but everything else shined. Remender
has a real knak for action, adventure and drama, I find all his issues are
always wonderfully dense, compelling reads, compared to other writers, where it
feels like nothing is happening for months at a time. While his competition was
Hickman and Bendis so it isn’t saying much, I think that with Ragnarok Now and
Rage of Ultron he wrote the best Avengers stories in recent memory. And the
first six issues of his Falcon Cap series were more emotional, adventurous and enjoyable than the entirety of Spencer’s run.
It took me a while to fully appreciate him, you need to accept that in his stories everything that can go wrong will go wrong and be incredibly depressing and harsh for a long time.
really fully got into Aaron’s books, I stopped steadily reading his Thor at the
beginning of his first Malekith the Boring storyarc, occasionally checked the
series after that, didn’t like any of it. Tried his Scalped, read the first few
trades, something about it just didn’t click for me. Read only a few issues of the Goddamned, hated that one too.
I don’t really have an opinion about this, is the story is well written it can sell all sorts of backgrounds.