If anyone out there is thinking of getting me a gift, please be very careful. Don’t get me a movie. Not a day goes by where someone doesn’t say, “Gee, Orson, you must really like movies to do them for a living.” Yes, like Madam Curie loved radiation poisoning. It’s my work, people. There is no way on God’s green earth you can pick out a movie for me that isn’t just plain horrible. You may think, “Oh, he says that, but I know he’ll love Billy Madison.” No, I won’t. Trust me when I say, though I do not know you, you have no taste. Save all your effort and my unwelcome insults by getting me a gift certificate to a book shop or a gaming store, the more obscure the better. Now here are some DVDs I know I really won’t like…


In Theaters

King Arthur
I’m sure when Thomas Mallory compiled all the Arthurian legends this is exactly what he had in mind. Like Zorro and Santa Claus, Arthur is a stack of bones that Hollywood simply cannot leave alone. The only real surprise is it’s far from as terrible as it could have been. But I have no worries about Hollywood giving up that effort to make an Arthur film that makes me renounce my love for the Arthurian lore. Clive Owen and that sweet piece of pirate ass with the forgettable name star. Am I required to remark on the presence of Jerry Bruckheimer? He must be reproducing or something, as his many-cloned hands are in everything these days.

De-Lovely
Needs de-lousing. Someone must have told filmmakers I was a fan of Cole Porter, so they molested the dead man’s legacy just to get back at me for all my witty attacks on their work. Kevin Kline (Silverado) is Cole Porter, in this movie set out to torpedo his remarkable talent and urinate on his songs by having them ejaculated by the worst modern vocalists who sell albums to the idiot masses (Sheryl Crow, Alanis Morissette). Alanis, Christ, you-you-you oughta know better than to wander outside of your grunge circle. A sneak preview of the soundtrack may have been what killed Rosemary Clooney. All in all, the film strikes me as the NASCAR set’s revenge on those of us who eat with silverware—touché, my low-brow nemeses. Ashley Judd also stars, as homosexual Porter’s love interest. Yes, I said it.

The Manchurian Candidate
Dead lyricists aren’t the only ones up to be de-filed by Hollywood. Watch how they take one of their own—in this case, John Frankenheimer’s intriguing suspense film, starring Frank Sinatra—and squeeze it until it plops out a single dollar. Denzel Washington cashes in his Oscar for quick cash as a mind-humped former Gulf War soldier, one of five who actually saw combat, who begins to suspect Liev Schreiber didn’t save his life at all. Plotting ensues, not that anyone in the theater noticed. A gusty fart of a remake.


I admit, De-Lovely nearly clocked me, but honestly, Hollywood, is this the best you have? As insidious as you’ve gotten this year, I expected Joey Lawrence in remake of Taxi Driver, or a Jessica Lynch biopic starring Drew Barrymore. It’s the end of the year, and I ask, where are your bodyshots? Looks like you wasted your verve over the summer. I’ll expect a harder workout next year.

December 13, 2004
House of Flying Buggers, The Life Aquatic with Vanilla Zissou, Ocean’s Twelve

December 6, 2004
The Bourne Supremacy, Dodgeball, I, Robot

November 29, 2004
Alexander, Christmas with the Crack, National Treasure, The SpongeBob Squarepants Movie

November 15, 2004
Elf, The Chronicles of Riddick, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban