“I’m Your Huckleberry.”

Oh, this movie.

tombstone

I watched Wyatt Earp a few years ago — I don’t even remember why — and I read Emma Bull’s Territory last year, so I figured I might as well add Tombstone to the list of westerns-to-watch this year. You know, really round out my various versions of the OK Corral and the Vendetta Ride.

Yeah. Not the best idea I’ve ever had.

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“Just Fix My Body . . . And Leave My Soul to Me.”

Sometimes, I’m lazy. Okay, often I’m lazy. And when my sister watches a movie without me — especially when it’s one I have no interest in at all — I’m like, hey, why don’t you write a review of that? And, very occasionally, she does:

Greek mythology is a love of mine, so I will watch just about anything having to do with it, from cheesy action flicks to animated Disney films and so forth. So, when Wrath of the Titans came on TV, I decided to DVR it, even though I heard it was supposed to suck.

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Yeah, it kind of sucked.

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“While You Were Still Learning How to Spell Your Name, I Was Being Trained to Conquer Galaxies!”

All right, folks. The Day of Reckoning has come.

battlefield-earth

Some of you may remember that I failed last year’s horror film challenge and, as a result, invited you to choose my punishment movie. You chose Battlefield Earth because you’re horrible monsters, all of you.

Now that I’ve finally seen this movie, I feel qualified to say that nobody deserves this film inflicted upon them. No one.

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“Don’t You Just Love Happy Endings?”

A while ago, my friend Rob got his hands on a huge stack of absolutely terrible horror movies and, knowing our passion for such films, sent the entire collection to my sister and I because Rob is, quite truly, the best. The one that really called to me, though, the one that just begged to be watched, was Tales From the Darkside: The Movie, mostly because of this cast: Steve Buscemi, Julianne Moore, Christian Slater, Rae Dawn Chong, James Remar, and Deborah Harry.

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It definitely seemed like a good candidate for Bloody Hearts, but when I realized that it was also an anthology film, just like V/H/S, it seemed like destiny.

Destiny is hilarious.

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“EMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILY!”

Splatterfest did not exactly go off without a hitch this year. There were sick cats to contend with, early morning work that could not be ignored, friends who didn’t show up, pizza places who failed to give us the chocolate ice cream we were promised.

But it was not all for naught. A small group of us gathered and feasted upon pizza and the sweet, sweet delight that is mockery.

Oh yes. There was mockery to be had last night.

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“Well, I Can Respect Your Opinion. Sadly, I’m Not Good at Rejection. I’m Afraid You’ll Have to Die.”

The worst thing about not being a professional movie critic is that it doesn’t matter how much time you spend working a review—you could write your little heart and soul out, bleed yourself dry, and you’re still not getting paid. On the other hand, the very best thing about not being a professional movie critic is that when you stumble upon a film that you’ve told yourself to review—even though you know full well that it is the kind of cinematic trash that will make you weep blood, the very sort of abject horror that you can’t possibly stomach without vast quantities of alcohol in your system—well, you don’t have to watch it without vast quantities of alcohol in your system.

Thus, may I present . . .

. . . The Batman & Robin Drinking Game!

(Please drink responsibly. AKA, don’t use vodka. You won’t make it four minutes.)

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“Fuck Me, Freddy.”

As of last Tuesday, my friend Robyn had never seen the atrocity that is the movie Dreamcatcher. And since my sister and I had been meaning to watch it again for years now—just to see if it was quite as horrible as we remembered it being—we happily rented the film when we went to visit her.

In a word: yes. It is.

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