Classically Shitty: Solaris

This 1972 film from the Soviet Union has been called a masterpiece by film aficionados across the globe. As you well know by now, film-fags and myself have very different opinions on what constitutes a masterpiece. For them, they like crap. I shouldn’t judge them; everyone is entitled to their own opinion. For me, though, I like movies that are actually good. You know, the opposite of Solaris.

The main character of Solaris is a space psychologist named Kris Kelvin. Oh man, space psychologist, what an awesome profession. How many years of training does one need to get that specialized? Anyway, the crew of the space station Solaris have been acting bonkers, so the Soviets recruit Kelvin to check it out. He reluctantly agrees to go. He spends the first thirty minutes of the movie sulking.

Once he arrives, he finds the space station in disarray. One of the crew members (a friend of Kelvin’s) had committed suicide, and the other two act evasive and batty. Kelvin starts hallucinating his dead wife (also a suicide), which he promptly launches into space.

Classically Shitty: Bridge on the River Kwai

Bridge on the River Kwai is another one of those classic movies that is classic for inexplicable reasons. Watching it, I honestly could not figure out why people like it. Was it the languid pace and lack of urgency? Was it the battle of superior White morality over that of the evil Japanese? Was it Obi Wan Kenobi as the main character? It’s hard to say. Perhaps it’s the combination of all three.

Kwai is sort of like the ultimate movie for spoiled assholes. The movie begins with a group of freshly captured British soldiers being hauled into a Japanese POW camp. The new inmates are told they are going to be put to work building a bridge. The bridge is extremely important to the war effort and must be built on time.

Obi Wan tells Saito (the head of the Japanese camp) that officers are not required to do manual labor because of the Geneva Convention. Saito says he doesn’t care, and everyone is has to work. Obi Wan remains defiant. He and his officers refuse to work. They put up with starvation, beatings, and being locked in an iron box. Eventually, Saito gives in and tells the officers they don’t have to work. The officers get to chill while their grunts go build the bridge.

Classically Shitty: The Third Man

The Third Man? How will I understand this movie when I haven’t seen The First Man or The Second Man?

OK, you guys, I know exactly what you’re thinking. You saw the title of this post, and you immediately got upset. Perhaps a little butthurt. It’s fine if you did. Massage those ass cheeks, and you’ll feel better in no time. Before you scroll down to the comments section to leave me some typed diarrhea, just read this post with an open mind. I think you’ll discover that The Third Man is actually a giant piece of shit, and not the classic filmfags purport it to be.

This 1949 movie was directed by Carol Reed, a man with a woman’s name. It was written by British novelist Graham Greene (you’ve only heard of him because they read one of his books in Donnie Darko). It starred Joseph Cotton and Orson Welles. It also won a shitload of awards when it was released, and has perpetually been on many “Best of” film lists. You know, none of that impresses me. It’s easy to win the Cannes Film Festival award for Best Picture when your competition consists of nothing but a bunch of sissy French crap. Anyway, I digress. 

The Zen of Spam 3

Maintaining a blog for over four years has its perks. One of the best parts is getting great spam messages in the comment inbox. While most of them are links to porn sites or incoherent gibberish, there are a few comedic gems. I have listed some of my favorites, in no particular order. Read them and meditate. To understand them is to achieve enlightenment.

• F*ckin? awesome things here. I?m very satisfied to see your article. Thanks so much and i am having a look ahead to touch you. Will you kindly drop me a e-mail?

Thanks? a lot for the compliment. I?m very satisfied to see your spam comment. Thanks so much and i am having a look ahead to… TOUCH ME?! Holy shit! I think this spambot is stalking me.

• she is about to masturbate in the bedroom in a hotel room after taking her clothes off when her girlfriend s dude buddy knocks at the door.

Woah, that sounds really fucking hot. It’s like I’m reading Penthouse Forum all of a sudden. Hey, don’t stop there. What happens next? I’ve got my tissues and lotion ready. Don’t leave me hanging!

• Had a wardrobe fitting for the next season of iCarly! Freddie’s clothes are Freddie-er than ever. And I still fit in last season’s jeans! 😀

OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS! ONE OF THE CAST MEMBERS FROM iCARLY READS MY BLOG! SQUEEEE! Ahem. But why does it have to be Freddie? Why can’t it be Carly instead? She’s legal now, right?

Classically Shitty: Serpico

Nice hat.

At first, I wasn’t sure if I should make this a Classically Shitty post. Serpico is more of a stupid movie than a shitty one. They had a lot of good pieces (actors, director, true story, etc.), but couldn’t execute them in any logical fashion. Everything that happens, happens in the dumbest possible way. It’s more Classically Stupid than anything else. But then I thought, “You know what? Fuck it.” Serpico is just as Classically Shitty as everything else in this series.

The movie opens with a rip-roaring, high-octane car chase around the streets of New York City where — oh, wait, sorry, I’m thinking of some other movie. Serpico opens with the titular police officer (played by Al Pacino) being casually taken to a hospital after having been shot in the face. People learn of his wounding, and react in the most apathetic manner imaginable. “Huh? What’s that? Serpico was shot? Oh, okay. Hey, did you see the Yankees game last night?” After that, the rest of the movie is told through an extended flashback.

Frank “Paco” Serpico is an honest cop with a great nickname. Serpico is also a really a weird dude. For the first half of the movie he is working in some kind of fingerprint catalog system, and he talks in this weird, kind of nasal, kind of high-pitched voice. He literally prances around the police department like a ballerina. He spends time in the bathroom with other dudes with the lights off. When people accuse him of being gay (even though the film shows us he isn’t), he doesn’t bother to deny it. Eventually, all his hard work talking weird, dancing, and cavorting in bathrooms pays off, and he gets promoted to a new division as a “plainclothes” officer.

Classically Shitty: Raging Bull

Raging pug?

Raging Bull is another one of those “classic” movies the film-fags love. Just take a look at this quote from a professional film critic. It pretty much sums up everything the film-fags think about this movie: “An essential addition to the libraries of all true cinephiles, the film is a triumph both for De Niro and his director, Martin Scorsese.”

It’s amazing to me that these fuckers loved this piece of shit so much. It also amazes me how film-fags refer to themselves as “cinephiles,” which is one of the most pretentious -sounding things I’ve ever heard. These people probably sit around in their skinny jeans, berets and striped shirts, smoking cigarettes, eating baguettes, and talking in fake French accents about how their taste in movies runs so much deeper than that of the average person.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the capability to express in words how much this movie sucks ass. The English language doesn’t have strong enough curse words to truly convey my hatred for Raging Bull. So, I decided to illustrate my reactions to the viewing experience by showing you pictures of pugs.