They announced the Oscar nominations this week. No real surprises there—more of the same Hollywood vehicles and stylized biographies that the industry loves. I have to congratulate Hollywood, really—how they bought out independent filmmakers everywhere at once, for one price, and monopolized the film business is still a mystery to me. But alas, my beat is the weak box office garbage that has already washed out of the theaters. So here we go.

The Grudge
Comparing this film to the original Japanese suspense film it was based on (Ju-On), I can say, without fear of contradiction, that this film is in English. It is truly terrifying, though, watching a successful television star fall so perfectly on her face in an attempt to translate sci-fi TV series success into a hit movie vehicle. The cliché is true that what you can’t see is scarier than what you can, and as bad as this film may be, what really kept me trembling was picturing all the cute romanti-comedies and suspense flicks Sarah Michelle Gellar could be working on even as we speak. ‘Scuse me while I shiver myself into madness.

Shall We Dance?
Let’s not. The gerbil-smelling hands of Richard Gere on my hips, J-Lo’s bulbous ass smacking against mine. I’m beyond terrified now. Also based on a Japanese film, by the way—can we give up on stealing their cinema, and simply go back to ripping-off their corporate management techniques again?

Shark Tale
In theory, not seeing Will Smith would make him somewhat less annoying—and here theory fails us. Will Smith as an animated fish is almost as nauseating as watching an actual real live Will Smith smacking you with a dead fish. Dreamworks brings us this CGI nightmare about an underdog (voiced by a handsome millionaire rapper-turned-actor) who becomes an overnight success when—ouch! Sorry. Sprained my tongue on all those clichés. Nevermind. Let it surprise you, if you like Will Smith-as-a-fish movies.

The Notebook
Director Nick Cassavetes molests his father’s memory in this diabetes-inducing adaptation of Chicken Soup for the Retarded Kids’ and Puppies’ Souls, or possibly some other even more sentimental crappy book. Up-and-comers Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams fall permanently down-and-out by starring in this series of tired plot devices and syrupy-sweet “moments”; more than enough saccharine to make Kelly Rippa spew expletives at the screen.

I’m particularly proud of not using the word “bile” once this week. Not that I’ll be able to keep that New Year’s resolution up much longer, given more films like these, but it’s nice to have ambitions. See you again in coming weeks.