I want to talk to you about The Avengers, but apparently there’s a lot I need to say, because I’m still working on the review. (I’m thinking it’ll be posted Wednesday, but we’ll see. It’s frustrating, how your actual job gets in the way of things.) But I did feel the need to get something off my chest today.
There were a lot of previews before The Avengers came on. After watching the trailer for Battleship, I leaned over and whispered to my sister that if this movie did not well and truly suck, I would be completely shocked. I’d put money down on Battleship being an awful movie, and not just a silly, dumb action movie, but a bad, bad movie.
And then I watched this trailer:
I’m predicting it right now: Worst Movie of 2012 will go to Crooked Arrows. Admittedly, I won’t be able to confirm this, since I’d have to be forced at gunpoint to actually see this film, but still. This looks horrendous. This looks so earnest and cheesy and terrible—your words are strong, but your spirit is weak, I mean, gah—that I could just cry . . . and then vomit. I don’t hugely identify with my Native American heritage—it’s a pretty small sliver that I know very little about—but the 1/16 or 1/32 or whatever fraction of Apache and Shawnee combo in my blood is just screaming for a movie that features Native Americans who don’t come off as a stock characters or total cliches.
I mean, really. Is that actually so much to ask?