for good or ill, i am very hard to please, cinematically speaking. movies that i consider legitimately good are few and far between: singin' in the rain, big fish, blade runner, l.a. confidential, wall-e, sunshine. after seeing each of those i thought, i will never see anything like that again.
which is why i like bad movies. they're comforting, like mcdonalds. i swear it off ten times a year, but can't get away. bad movies have just the right combination of irony, un-intentional irony, actors who know the score, and actors trying for their oscar reel that it just adds up to pure magic. throw in a hangover and a pizza, and it's like looking into the face of god.
thanks to korean cable (jean claude van damme: still relevant on channel 201!) i have rediscovered what may be the single greatest bad movie ever made: 3000 Miles to Graceland.
let's put it this way: if bad movies were the winter olympics, figure skating, and there were certain technical elements to be met, 3000 Miles to Graceland would have an unstoppable lead going into the free skate. let me break it down for you, in terms of dick-flick movie cliches
nineties heartthrob, trying to hang on - kevin costner
teen heartthrob, ditto above - christian slater
former child star - kurt russell (totally counts, google it)
cast member of friends - courtney cox (arquette)
an aquette (by birth) - david
black dude who dies 20 minutes in - bokhem woodbine
athlete - howie long
plucky kid - some poor s.o.b. who hopefully went to college
as i was sitting in the theater (yes, i saw this movie in the theater, nachoes and all) i thought to myself, "holy crap, all this movie needs is a rapper. it has every bad thing ever. where's the rapper?" and then, like some beat-slingin' deus et machina, Ice T descends from the ceiling. upside down. on a cable. firing uzis. yes, plural.
i have not done this film justice. trust me: like looking into the face of god.
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