Dispatches from... The Film Graveyard.
- By Sean Gardner
- Published 02/14/2009
Sean Gardner
Sean dislikes writing bios, so he has left the duties to his brother, Matthew.
Sean appeared from nowhere shortly after the Christmas of 1981. He was gooey, listless and an attention grabber from day one. He once filled bottles of sand, loaded them into a briefcase and dramatically attempted to run away. We found him an hour later on the corner of the street, eating the sand, too lazy to walk another step. I've plotted his murder for years, but he continues to foil them with the aid of his lucky patch of chest hair and cunning sidekicks.
Theaters are terrible right now. There is currently such a dearth of reasonable choices that the Landmark Sunshine here in NYC is still showing Synecdoche, New York. And have been for the past 5 or 6 months.
Here's why:
He's Just Not That Into Your STDs.
Paul Blart: Ugh.
Confessions of a I'm Boring Myself Typing This.
Before I lived in New York, I would watch the Oscar flicks around this time, since they would just be trickling into my local cineplex. But I already blew my wad on films like The Wrestler and Slumdog Millionaire so I'm left with no options at the cinema. At least until The Watchmen.
To bide my time, I've taken my Netflix queue in a whole new direction, using this typical "movie graveyard" as a time to try out films that were wrongly slotted into this category by most respectable non-nerds.
Such selections as Death Wish, Assault on Precinct 13 (original, fuck Ethan Hawke), 1990: Bronx Warriors, Death Race, Hell Comes to Frogtown, Streets of Fire, They Live, Final Destination 2, Doomsday and Dragon Wars (this one was bad, not in the good way), just to cover the iceberg's tip.
When I say that non-nerds don't seem to appreciate them, try getting recommendations of these types of quality B-movies from family or non-film oriented friends. Chances are you'll be told to check out Serpico or Dog Day Afternoon. Not that Serpico isn't fun, but it lacks the presence of Fred Williamson, so clearly it falls a bit short.
Anyway, while the studios are trying to fuck you with a knife blade, I suggest you follow suit. To hell with the studios. If they provide nothing worth watching, show them why Netflix is making a dent in their ticket sales. And maybe next January, February and March they can give us more Doomsday and less Bride Wars. Show us what a real cinematic graveyard looks like and B-movie the shit out of us.
At least until next weekend, when my sidekick kindly reminds me we are blessed with Madea Goes To Jail and Fired Up. Really? Fired Up? Who shat that onto celluloid?
