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What the #$*! Do We (K)now!? (2004)
The Worst Film In Recent Memory (and I don't say that lightly)
The answer to the question posed by this film's title, What the #$*! Do We Know?, is apparently: We Don't Know $#!+. That conclusion is only arrived at after nearly two hours of glib pseudo-intellectual drivel from a whole cast of 'experts' interspersed with the painfully banal story of a photographer looking for... um, meaning, I guess; it's hard to tell in a movie which is so inept in its construction and diseased in its intentions, a self-righteous pit of a film that uses quantum theory only as an excuse to spew nonsensical ramblings and feel-good, New Age patter at the viewer who, as the credits roll, can be sure of only one thing: they have wasted two hours of their life, and no amount of positive projection or spiritual freethinking is going to help them retain it. In short, this is very possibly the worst film I have ever seen.
Quantum physics, we learn, concerns itself with the study of subatomic particles that seem to defy everything we thought we knew about matter, energy, and the laws of nature. This film is not a documentary about quantum theory; there is only the most perfunctory explanation of what quantum theory even is, and after that the film seems pretty self-satisfied enough to delve into what this peculiar branch of science might mean for us.
A researched, thoughtful film on the mysteries of quantum mechanics would have required some effort, some canniness, some mastery of film making craft and precision of thought; it may have, dare I say, resulted in a better film. But writer-directors Mark Vicente, Betsy Chasse and William Arntz chose instead to round up a whole ensemble of garrulous gas-bags, ahem, excuse me, 'experts,' who specialize in gleefully flailing their arms in ignorance and uttering long-winded tirades that only serve to add insult to injury (at one point, one of these 'professors' helpfully intones: 'What I thought was unreal now, for me, seems in some ways to be more real than what I think to be real, which seems now more to be unreal.')
From this group of mystics and supposed scientists, we learn all kinds of wonderful things; such as, because quantum particles seem to disappear at times, there must be other universes, parallel worlds. (One can hope that there exists an alternate reality where this movie was never made, and that world is better for it). And if that's the case, then, gasp, we can alter the course of our destinies by... positively projecting the events of our day. Yes, you read right, we can invent our futures by thinking about them really really hard. At least that's what the nice lady who thinks she's channeling a 35,000-year-old sage from Atlantis said. Another interviewee tells us that we can walk on water, if we just believe in ourselves enough.
Meanwhile, we're subjected to the made-for-TV soap opera unfolding in the life of a deaf photographer named Amanda (played by Academy Award winner Marlee Matlin) whose adventures, conceived and executed for maximum preschool appeal, in some way, shape, or form are reflecting whatever topic those wacky scientists are on now. What the Bleep... is not only offensive in its idiocy, it's like the blowhard you meet at weddings who just does not know when to quit. The film jumps from the existence of God to the function of brain cells to the importance of high self-esteem, never stopping long enough to delve seriously into any of these topics (or telling us just what they have to do with quantum theory in the first place), but never mind! This movie is not designed to test attention spans or to provoke thought; it sets its bar for the lowest common denominator and counts on its viewers to leave the theater feeling vindicated that they just don't have a clue. The film is a flaming love letter to ignorance that manages to combine the worst of PBS, PAX, Mr. Rogers, and Lifetime. Did I mention the grade-Z special effects?
What the Bleep... does not achieve the banal mediocrity of your average movie of the week or even the spectacular awfulness of an Ed Wood or Tom Green product; it is an egregious disaster, a movie so flagrantly self-serious about its own magnificent importance that it fails on nearly every level: it fails as a documentary, it fails as a drama, it fails as camp; it sinks, crashes, and it burns, and you must not see it. And if by some cruel quirk of fate you do, bring tomatoes to decorate the screen.
Scary Movie 2 (2001)
Uninspired, worthless "comedy"
This original film was 88 minutes of the grossest, nastiest toilet humor with enough on-screen gags to warrant an NC-17 rating. And yet, it was an enjoyable film for the same reason that South Park: Bigger Loner, and Uncut is an enjoyable film- they are both so shockingly vulgar and shamelessly stupid that they become something greater than toilet humor. However, the thing about shocking people is you can't shock them with the same things twice. The creators of South Park knew enough not to make a sequel. After just seeing Scary Movie 2, I wish the Wayans's Brothers would take a cue from them.
The movie does not make any attempt to be original; it does not make any attempt to shock us; in fact, we wonder if any effort as put into this at all. I can clearly see the writers, pressed for time and ideas, piecing together a script out of the worst moments of Scary Movie 2.
The original spoofed the tired and worn slasher film formula- particularly Scream. This one spoofs the equally tired ad worn formula of haunted houses. There are some smart pokes at Mission Impossible 2 and Charley's Angels; Chris Elliot and James Woods have funny cameos as a caretaker and an exorcist, respectively; and the film's most brilliant gag: a foul-mouthed parrot are the few examples of Scary Movie 2's originality. Most of the film repeats the same jokes from the original, or includes new ones that make the audience groan when they should laugh.
The jokes are painfully unfunny and dangerously overplayed. And the movie as a familiar feeling- like we've seen the exact same movie before. Without its shock value, this is mere toilet humor
*1/2 out of ****
Wonders of China (1982)
A Miraculous Visual Journey
I first saw Wonders Of China at Epcot, a theme park at Disneyworld in Orlando, Florida. A poet from ancient China leads you through modern Shanghai and Bejing, as well as the Great Wall, the Yangtze River, Mongolian deserts, and rice fields of Southern China. Although the viewing conditions were a little uncomfortable (they don't let you sit and you have to keep turning your head to see everything)the film is marvelous. In 19 minutes, the movie lets you see so much, and viewed in 360 degrees with screens which surround you, the experience is wonderful, and the photography lush, in the visual style of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. As both a theme park attraction and a documentary, it is a success. *** out of ****
The Crow: Salvation (2000)
It'll take a lot more than this to breathe life into this series.
The nicest thing one can say about The Crow: Salvation is that it is unquestionably an improvement over the god-awful first sequel to The Crow, The Crow: City Of Angels. However, that doesn't say much considering that the latter film was an action gorefest having none of the original's heart and emotion. This film is able to recapture some of those elements that made The Crow such a hit, as well as an iota of its fantastic mood, atmosphere, and comic book visuals. However, the film's central villain (Fred Ward) does not have any of the class and creepiness of Michael Wincott. Mostly, Alex Corivis (Eric Mabius)runs around killing badguys in various ways (providing the film with variety). His quest for vengeance is not enthralling or involving. Like the sequel before it, this one works from the outline of the original, bringing nothing new to the series. ** out of ****.
Note: The name Alex Corvis. Corvis is Latin for "crow".
Battlefield Earth (2000)
The proudest display of pure Hollywood crap on celluloid!
We all know the classics, the films that have stood the tests of time, and refuse to become dated or lose an iota of their entertaining quality over the years. From the intellectual snob of a movie buff, to the casual movigoer, we've heard the names, if not seen the movies: Citizen Kane, Casablanca, The Godfather, North By Northwest, The Wizard Of Oz, etc., etc. Existing on the opposite end of the spectrem are movies so horrendously bad, so awful, that they remain equally engraved in the memories of fans for years to come. One such movie is Battlefield Earth, a unique film in the sense that every single aspect of production is poor and dreadfully uninspired.
The faults of Battlefield Earth are too enumerous to count, and the redeeming factors (if any) elusively hidden between overblown special effects, plot holes the size of Lake Tahoe, overacted performances which are going to give all of the lead actors permanent black marks. And worst of all, the movie takes itself seriously. It does not branch out into comic relief (at least not intentionally, Travolta's performance inspires laughs when it's supposed to be intimidating). In between the frames, as well as in various interviews, the filmmakers have hinted that they think (honestly) that they have created a classic film to be long remembered in Battlefield Earth.
I hear about plans for a sequel, or spin-off TV show. I hope to God that this is not true! When I saw the film, I was first incredilous with shock at the film's astoundingly stupid dialogue and story which breezed from action scene to action scene (none of which are exciting, Die Hard 2 is better than this cheese) and how it lingered on boring, pointless plot "revelations" that the audience members who have IQ's above that of an eggplant must have figured out long before the characters on screen have. Then I was laughing, and I was not the only one. Finally, I just waited for it to be over. I walked out of the screening room, took unusually long breaks to the concession stand, meandered around the theater looking at posters for coming attractions, and when I returned to the movie, I found I had missed nothing, and was not surprised. The film does not work on any level. Not self-parody. It's not even campy. It's an embarrassment to all involved in its making, and anyone who had to endure it in theaters. The filmmakers were right about one thing: It's going to be remembered for a long time.