“He Who Controls Spice Controls The Universe!”

A few months ago, as you may or may not remember, I took part in the Clarion West Write-a-Thon. Donors could purchase a movie review, should they opt to do so, and a man named Tom did.

Here is everything you need to know about Tom:

1. Tom is an assistant nurse manager of the ICU, one of the departments I work in.

2. Tom is a gigantic movie buff, like, he’s seen way, WAY, more movies than I have.

3. Tom’s movie opinions are completely wrong roughly 90% of the time.

Tom immediately jumped on the chance to purchase a review, and then, fiendishly, spent the next two months going back and forth on what he wanted to make me watch. Would he give me something he thought I’d genuinely enjoy, despite my fairly minimal interest? Would he give me something so ridiculously terrible that it would totally redefine the so-bad-it’s-AWFUL genre? These were hard considerations, and Tom delighted in proposing different alternatives every day, but in the end, the knowledge that I had never seen David Lynch’s Dune proved too much for him.

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And so, good people, let us begin our journey into the world of Dune, a place of spice, Chosen Ones, gigantic worms, and winged underoos.

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“Shit Happens? That’s It? That’s What I Get? Fucking Wisdom?”

So, I’m a quitter. If I decide I don’t want to do something anymore, or it just isn’t worth my time, I’m done. I’m not terribly ashamed of this almost-certain character flaw, but it does sometimes come with devastating consequences, like when I decide to give up on my Best Picture Challenge and have to watch and review a terrible movie of your choosing as a result of my failure. And God help me, I finally watched it.

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Let’s celebrate the Eve of All Hallow’s Eve by talking about Randy Meeks’s favorite scary movie, Showgirls.

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“I’m Not the Bad Guy.”

Netflix’s Daredevil comes out tomorrow and nerds ’round the world are pretty jazzed about it — all except me, it seems. Don’t get me wrong: I do plan to watch the series. I even figure I’ll probably like it, assuming all the buzz it’s been generating for the past few weeks is worth a damn. But I’m just not as excited as I’d like to be, partially because I was underwhelmed by the first trailer, and partially because I’m — perhaps unfairly — annoyed by EW’s recent review, where they refer to it as a superhero show “specifically for grown-ups,” unlike all those other “juvenile” superhero TV shows that I’m passionate about. It’s interesting when a review makes you feel like a scolded child for enjoying something.

Anyway. New Daredevil got Mekaela and I talking about old Daredevil, naturally. People are eager to talk shit about that movie, and it’s not like I loved it, either, but I found myself wondering — was it really as bad as everyone said? People can be prone to over exaggeration, after all, and Ben Affleck’s been a pretty easy target for the last fifteen years or so. Then again, that’s basically what I thought about Fantastic Four, too (sans Affleck, obviously), until I rewatched it last year and discovered, No, it really IS a pretty crappy movie. I felt like I needed to give Daredevil the same chance.

My verdict?

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Well, let me put it this way: Daredevil the TV show? It can’t possibly be any worse.

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“Wow, You’re a Winner, Ain’t Ya?”

Halloween is my favorite holiday of the year. You get to dress up in fun costumes, have an excuse to eat junk food that you were going to eat anyway, and watch a bunch of scary movies. Also, it’s not a traditionally Family Gathering kind of holiday, so it comes with a lot less drama than, say, Thanskgiving or Christmas.

Also, in my house, Halloween is a time to savor truly terrible horror movies.

We will begin Splatterfest 2014 with our first film: Nine Dead.

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“IT HAS BEGUN!”

Obsessively watching Teen Wolf and Sheriff Johnny Cage reminded me of something last week: I have never actually written a review for Mortal KombatMortal Kombat: Annihilation, yes. But Mortal Kombat itself? Nope.

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This is one of my favorite guilty pleasure movies ever. Keep that in mind while I occasionally and lovingly rip it to shreds.

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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.

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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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“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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