My eyes have lost the keys to my brain
Good movies don't make you think, bad ones do
People are always saying that a good movie "really makes you think." That’s stupid. Sure, some good movies make you think, but others just make you grin stupidly or skip home singing the theme song.
Really bad movies are the ones that truly make you think. If the set moves unexpectedly, or the lights suddenly go out and the cast keeps going on like nothing is happening, the viewer’s attention suddenly snaps away from the plight of the characters and winds up focusing on the plight of a grade-Z film crew.
"What’s going on back there?" you might wonder, staring at the tilting scenery. "Is a team of grips trying to hold that thing steady? Did a fuse blow? Couldn’t they afford re-takes? Is the producer having a cardiac arrest right now?"
The mind just swims with fascinating possibilities that have nothing to do with the narrative. Here’s some random stuff that popped into my head while watching various bad movies:
Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959): Actual movie dialogue:
"The only explosion left… is the Solaranite!"
"Why… there’s no such thing!"
"Perhaps to you. But we’ve known it for centuries. Your scientists will stumble upon it as they have all the others. The Solaranite is a way to explode the very particles of sunlight itself!"
"But sunlight can’t even be seen or felt!"
"Can you see or feel an atom? Yet you can explode one. A particle of sunlight is made up of many atoms!"
As you can see, there’s something unique about this film’s dialogue, written by the legendary Edward D. Wood Jr. This is dialogue that demands to be listened to, and once you’re hooked, your brain just can’t deal with it. By the time you’ve noticed a simple grammatical error, the movie’s already hit you with five similar mistakes, and thrown in a bunch of scientific impossibilities to boot. You lose track of all the stupidities – it’s like there’s a 24-car pile-up in your brain. Miraculously, Ed’s themes and underlying message come through loud and clear, despite being articulated in the clumsiest way possible. Somehow, we get it, even while we’re laughing at Ed’s impossible prose. Is it any wonder that Plan 9 is one of the most beloved "Bad Movies" in history?
Sympathy for the Devil (a.k.a. One Plus One, 1970): Partway through this endurance test of a movie, I found myself zoning out and picturing the antics of Lion Man from the film that, until that moment, I had considered the worst ever made – Lion Man 2: The Witch-Queen. Inwardly, I chuckled and smiled at the leonine hero’s inept swashbucklery, ignoring the god-awful spectacle that was currently abusing my eyes. You know you’ve found the pinnacle of crap when you start enjoying Lion Man 2 flashbacks more than what you’re actually watching.
If there’s a film out there bad enough to make Sympathy for the Devil seem watchable by comparison, I really don’t want to see it. (Probably. Oh, who am I kidding? Bring it on!)
Valentine (2001): This is one of those unscary slasher movies where the victims always walk backwards slowly, with the lights out, talking to the killer they can’t see. "Who’s there?" "Where are you?" "I know you’re out there!" "Show yourself!"
This happens so often, that you’ll find yourself talking back to the screen, answering all the stupid questions: "I’m over here!" "No, this way!" "Now I’m over here! Stop moving around!" "Dammit, just stay put, and I’ll come to you!" "Marco!" "Polo!"
Manos, The Hands of Fate (1966): Watch a boring movie and your mind will wander. Watch Manos and you’ll actually hallucinate. Your brain will do all kinds of things to keep you from paying attention to this film. Let it. It’s only trying to protect you.
The guys from Mystery Science Theater 3000 had the right idea with this one. Faced with the fact that the monster in Manos is Torgo, a slow-moving manservant with deformed knees, Joel and the ’bots pondered what other enlarged features might qualify one as a "monster." Huge earlobes? How about a giant pinkie? |
