Sean Weitner | Cutting the other way

We've spent almost a week talking about the movies we liked this year, and it's now time to talk about the movies we didn't like or, preferably, hated.

There's a problem with that that warrants our full disclosure, though: None of us are professional film critics in terms of being comped into every movie and having the time to see the majority of what's released. Because it's my money, I tend to avoid things that I strongly suspect I'll find unrewarding. As a result, I certainly miss out on some dark-horse gems, and I really regret that, because it's the critic who finds something underpraised to champion that really provides the best service.

Having said that, four movies come to mind that warrant my hate this year: Two are overachievingly dumb action movies, and two are arrogant, disappointing films starring Robert De Niro.

The dumb action movies were Tomb Raider, directed by Simon West, and Swordfish, directed by Dominic Sena. I loathed West's The General's Daughter and thought I would be happy to see him return to an action movie cartoon like his debut, Con Air. But his repeated insistence on confounding any sense of narrative coherence in Tomb Raider maddened me. I wasn't expecting anything — just a B-movie version of a B movie (as opposed to an A-movie version of a B movie, like Indiana Jones). Instead, it goes for all the grandeur, with an unspeakably complicated Illuminati-oriented plot that threatens the end of the world and an icky subplot about Lara Croft (Angelina Jolie) pining for her dead father (Jon Voight, actually Jolie's semi-estranged father). West made the father thing maudlin instead of revelatory and the Illuminati plot impossible to follow instead of giving it a crackerjack, one-two-three structure. Swordfish is similarly incomprehensible, with its thicket of shadow government agencies shadowing other government shadow agencies and state-sanctioned terrorists terrorizing other state-sanctioned terrorists. The only person who should have to sit through this many quadruple-crosses and twists is an Olympic diving judge. And the slavering selling of Halle Berry's topless shot was maybe the ultimate infuriation.

Both films had a pearl: For Tomb Raider, it was the fleeting attempts at adding a third, or at least second, dimension to Croft's character; there was almost enough of something there to warrant curiosity. For Swordfish, it was one scene in the film's first 10 minutes.

The two arrogant Robert De Niro films are 15 Minutes and The Score. My 15 Minutes review is here; my issue with The Score is its flagrant waste of De Niro, Marlon Brando and Edward Norton with a B script that didn't even try — didn't even try! — for anything sublime. I saw worse movies, but none with The Score's hubris.

Andy Stilp | Not Another Teen Movie

Sean, taking your torch and running a little, I think the fact that Not Another Teen Movie was thoroughly enjoyable illuminated the fact that an entire genre — Bring Teen Love Horror Scream All That On — crashed in 2002. It wove in and out of more than a handful of elder-teen flicks, as well as taking shots at the genre as a whole (Malik, the token black guy, confronts another black teen at a party and discusses their token coverage plan for the area's social engagements).

True, it puts the crosshairs closest on She's All That (NATM's couple is Janey Briggs and Jake Wyler, SAT's is Laney Boggs and Zack Siler — damn, that's from memory!), but the working title was Ten Things I Hate About Clueless Road Trips When I Can't Hardly Wait to Be Kissed, to give an indication. It's amazing that A Walk To Remember hasn't been folded into this. Maybe it's Mandy Moore. Who knows.

Aside: NATM also features one of the best shots of the year. Mia Kirshner, whose character is a takeoff of Catherine from Cruel Intentions, makes her saucy entrance to the pulsating of Marilyn Manson's revamped "Tainted Love". I'd go see it again just for that one shot.

Andy Ross | Ooh, I hate it

I'm a big hater of lowbrow comedy that's not even smart enough to pull off lowbrow humor. Movies like Saving Silverman were made by such unfunny people that they couldn't even make a fart joke work. (And, such a waste of Jack Black, Steve Zahn, and Jason Biggs.) Horribly, horribly unfunny.

Worse yet was Tomcats. It had all the stale flops for jokes of Saving Silverman; plus it totally didn't live up to its own promises. A cast filled with former Playmates and desperate-for-fame starlets and no nudity? Bastards! What has the world come to, when even horribly unfunny lowbrow comedies don't flash a booby or two? The next thing you know, they'll be making war movies without love interests. Shudder.

Eric Wittmershaus | The lone black mark

Again, the only movie I really disliked in 2001 was Shallow Hal. For all the talk I heard about it being a "love song to fat people" or some such thing, it was incredibly mean-spirited. Even though Jack Black's character eventually falls for Gwyneth at the end of the movie, all the humor up to this point has been at the expense of the overweight, crippled or hideously unattractive. The whole thing left me feeling sort of icky and uncomfortable, even though I won't deny it had a few clever bits. Other than that, I mostly steered myself to movies that I liked. Now that I work nights and don't do freelance movie reviews, I manage to avoid most of the Bounces and Dungeons & Dragonses of the world.

Sean Weitner | If it bends, it's comedy

So basically you all hated comedies. And rather have you come to the defense of the year's good comedies, let's look at what we've considered good comedies: Amélie, The Royal Tenenbaums and Series 7 were all spoken highly of by at least two of us, and there are considerable comic elements in movies we like such as Ghost World, Gosford Park, Hedwig and The Anniversary Party even if they aren't comedies per se. Meanwhile, earning our derision are Shallow Hal, Saving Silverman, Tomcats, The Animal (which I praised one joke in), Monkeybone (which apparently only I liked, and even I only liked it a little) and non-Not Another Teen Movie teen movies.

That basically looks like the highbrow/lowbrow divide. And, sure, we didn't praise every highbrow comedy (I haven't seen the much-reviled Town & Country or dump on every lowbrow movie (Andy R.'s positive review of American Pie 2), but there's definitely a trend here.

So what's the story? Is it that the hoi polloi need to have their attitudes changed, or do we need to loosen up?

Eric Wittmershaus | Middlebrow

I don't know about you guys, but I really loved Zoolander, which I wouldn't lump in with the likes of Amélie and its ilk. I'd say it fits some kind of middle ground. As in, the stuff about the fashion industry was pretty biting and definitely above the stuff you'll find in Saving Silverman, but there's no way you can look at the walk-off and say that's anything but lowbrow silliness.

And I know it's not really eligible to talk about because it's from this year, but I found Orange County to be fairly amusing as well, so maybe there's hope for lowbrow comedy. Also, from what Stevie says, How High? had one of the better jokes of the year. ("How could I fail women's studies? I love bitches") Maybe that was worth checking out.

Andy Ross | I love lowbrow

You've got me all wrong. I only disliked Saving Silverman and Tomcats because they weren't funny. They gave lowbrow a bad name. I have loved that style of humor ever since I was four, the year that Blazing Saddles began its 18-year run as my favorite movie.

I'm sure I would have enjoyed The Animal had I seen it, since I found pleasure in Joe Dirt. Also, I've been desperate to see Pootie Tang, but no one will ever rent it with me. I really did enjoy American Pie 2. Rush Hour 2 would have been OK if only they hadn't allowed Chris Tucker to write his own dialogue. And, are you ready? I stand by Shallow Hal despite its obvious faults. I like that it strove for a goal, and I was saddened by the overuse of fat jokes. But I still think it had a lot of heart and some very funny setups.

Admittedly, I skipped a few low brow comedies this year that looked dreadful. One Night at McCool's looked like a stinker, and despite a very funny "Daddy, would you like some sausages?" preview for Freddy Got Fingered, it had an aura of wretchedness hanging around it. But, I think I avoided those movies because I wanted to hold onto my enjoyment of low brow in general. That's why Saving Silverman and Tomcats hurt so much to watch.

Sean, you had better watch your ass now that you've insinuated I'm some kind of humor snob. I know where you live.

Sean Weitner | Just talking about trends

The lowbrow/highbrow thing is something of a false dichotomy — brow altitude is low on the list of factors that make a movie funny. But there's nevertheless been a trend in what we've said, if only that funny highbrow stuff is meritorious and unfunny lowbrow stuff is extra stinky. No one made bones about unfunny highbrow stuff, and no one put quality lowbrow on any of their lists. So I don't think I was coming completely out of left field with my comments.

Andy, I'll see your offer of Pootie Tang and raise you a double feature with One Night at McCool's.

Eric Wittmershaus | Ahem

But I had Zoolander right up there with Mulholland Drive in my movie rankings. Does that not count? Or is it not sick enough?

Sean Weitner | Mr. Highbrow

I haven't seen Zoolander, so I can't say, although I would guess it has a slightly different persona to it since it was directed by Ben Stiller, who's something of an arch-wit himself.

Nevertheless: Aigh! All right! You're all simpatico with the film tastes of the common man, and I'm not (since not even the common man liked Monkeybone)! Film snobbery remains enshrined … in me!

Yeep.

Andy Ross | Addendum

Since I was just giving my short list of least favorites, maybe I'll lengthen it now, so as to be more specific.

I disliked my fair share of highbrow drama this year. I found The Pledge to be boring and overwrought. I also found Blow to be a sad rip-off of Goodfellas with awful acting on the part of all the female roles. Heist had great dialogue, but was all over the place plot-wise, seemingly desperate to put in another twist. We've already panned Vanilla Sky. Monster's Ball had characters so stock, they seemed like clip art. And, Waking Life seemed like some first- year philosophy student jerking off in my ear.

Despite the defense the film has received on these pages, I'm in agreement with the majority that disliked A.I., not because of the ending, which I thought was fine. Rather, I disliked its total ignorance of the arguments surrounding its namesake. From Turing on, books have created a complex and varied stance on artificial intelligence, and A.I. took more from Disney's Pinocchio than those 40-some years of literature. If it did make any arguments of its own, they seemed like accidental results of schmaltzy love rhetoric.

Sean Weitner | Oof

I don't think we were supposed to think Turing or Asimov's laws of robotics or anything similar had underpinned A.I.. Pinocchio is a good comparison, but A.I. was more than just Pinocchio set in the future; or, perhaps, it showed what a great sci-fi story Pinocchio has always been. As far as schmaltz goes … I don't know. To each his own, I guess. I was moved by A.I., and I'm not one for schmaltz.

And for Monster's Ball — and I think this Oscars conversation has now gone on long enough, because I can't remember what we've talked about — boy howdy, I really liked the characters. Peter Boyle's Buck was pretty narrow, but Heath Ledger's Sonny and Sean Combs' Lawrence were about as fully realized as you can make a character with that little screen time. And I think that because the characters made choices that steered them away from obligatory scenes — this was epitomized by the last scene, but it wasn't the only occurrence — that made them better than clip art, to me. They didn't necessarily think like movie characters. And they don't get spiritually whitewashed, either; Billy Bob Thornton's Hank has not come 100 percent into a progressive stance about race, and Halle Berry's Leticia hasn't shown herself to be more of a model mother by the film's end that at its beginning. I think the film hit a perfect balance — just messy enough to be thought-provoking without being too messy to catch on with mass audiences.

Andy Ross | On Monster's Ball

Here's my take on Monster's Ball: What its characters gained in unexpectedness, they lost in depth. Combs was a sensitive artist, whatever kind of man he was before that put him on death row was missing. Isn't it neat that this criminal is a nice father who likes to draw? Boyle's character was pure racism, nothing else. Thornton was a racist who hated his son; scratch that, now he's a kind benefactor who loved his son. His new actions stem from some kind of turnaround surrounding his son's death. But, it's all sudden, because there's not enough character there to show gradual change, just quick change in actions. Berry was a weak but good mother. Oh crap, she's a bad mother. The only character I thought had depth was Ledger's, and he's not in the movie very long. Essentially, Monster's Ball is just about character reversals, from one stock to its opposite.

Sean Weitner | Too much/too little credit

I don't think you're giving Monster's Ball screenwriters Milo Addica and Will Rokos — first-timers both — enough credit. The main characters' switches aren't as polar as you suggest; when Hank says he loves his son, he says it like he's tasting it, just to see how it feels. I didn't get a sense of total conversion; he goes into a mellow period, a mid-life crisis, after his family trauama — quits his job, gets rid of his car, gets a new woman, puts his dad in a home, etc. A comparison with Lester Burnham in American Beauty might even be a little apt. But as in the Lester case, those changes are really just a lot of externalities; he's working on the bigger stuff. For instance: A well-adjusted straight-shooter would have fessed up about his relationship to Lawrence. But he doesn't, he never does, to the point where it might potentially bite him in the ass … but it doesn't bite him in the ass, although that potential is very nearly fulfilled. I didn't get a sense of both characters being fixed in that last shot when they stared into the stars; I saw them as being broken, but healing.

And I don't mean that to sound as trite as it does.