Blast From The Past
Just came across this bit, meant to go in one of my very first personal websites, way back in the dark ages, around 1996. Back then I used to have a section called the Extra Sensory Movie Critic wherein I would extensively review movies I hadn’t seen, based ostensibly on ESP, but really, just being cranky and cynical about Hollywood’s less artful product. As I wrote this entry it became clear to me that anyone with a pulse could reach the same conclusions as I and probably do a better job of writing them down, and so I relegated this lovely chunk of prose to the dustbin of forgotten history till today. I invite you to join me as I marvel at woefully dated pop-culture references, cringe over strained attempts at being cranky-funny and wince at my anguished grammar:
Before I get on with the actual review: enough with Titanic already! It sucked, it stank, it reeked for eighteen hours straight, or however long it actually ran. All I could think of was relieving myself after seeing all that water sloshing around and me with a quart of soft drink in my system just aching to get out. I plain can’t believe I put myself through the thing not just once but twice. But what bothers me is what ungodly level of success the movie is enjoying, despite everyone’s expectations for it to fail, despite the monstrous budget bloat, despite there just not being a whole lot of story to help pass the time, and despite it not really getting advertised all that much. Well, not compared to Batman, that is. I see the stupid Spice Girls movie getting more adplay than the T-word ever did. I just don’t understand it. Or maybe I would rather not have to conclude that the movie is succeeding simply because we, ostensibly the most literate and sophisticated audience in the world, have lost our taste.Now, on to greener pastures…
Today I’m going to pick on, ahem, review the film Spiceworld, using only my amazing power of clairvoyance. But who am I kidding? If you are anything other than a prepubescent American girl you pretty much know the score on this one by now. There are two reasons why you should be persuaded to approach this film: (1) you are hell-bent to be disappointed; or (2) you are Pee Wee and you’re looking for decorating ideas for your new “Playhouse.†I mean, there are different kinds of bad movies, of course. There are bad movies that were probably intended to be “good†(Planet of the Apes, any movie-of-the-week on TV), there are bad movies that are so bad they are good (that’s what Mystery Science Theater makes its money on), there are bad movies made lame on purpose by a bunch of spoiled bimbos on their 14th minute of fame… and then there’s Spiceworld. Let me tap into my ESP here for a bit and see what more I can tell you about the movie. I’m visualizing… hmmm… wait… it’s coming to me… I see… no plot! Yes! The movie is plotless, more plotless than a Public Service Announcement. My Spider-sense™ shows me a bunch of brightly-clad girls spouting contrived lines of pentalogue as gracefully as the Pope on a rodeo bull. They walk on city sidewalks and —what do you know?— they get stared at by conservative-looking old ladies. They go into restaurants. They flirt with the busboy. They come out of restaurants. They ride a goofy tour bus. They get in a pillow-fight (a good-natured one, of course: otherwise the prospect of violence against a Spicegirl might actually make the movie worthwhile). They try on even more garish costumes in their dressing room. Behold textbook examples of awful comedic timing! Revel in the inclusion of vanity-endorsed disastrous ad-libs! And don’t forget the singing!!
I’m thinking, on a scale of one to zero, i’d rather have knee surgery unanesthesized than actually watch this. But, hey, at least it’s not Hanson: The Mmmmovie. Oh god, i’ve said too much.
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