But, it must be said, there's a grain of application to what we're
dealing with here. While it is a critic's job to point out what to
avoid as much as which art to celebrate, the former aspect can be a
dicey one, lest we become the judgmental blowhards we're so often dismissed as.
So, with that in mind, I present my own list of the Ten 2012 Films To Be Avoided, in order of stinkatude. The good news is that of the 136 2012 film releases I've seen and considered to date, only these nine truly bothered me. At times, I opt to quote my own ZekeFilm and ScreenAnarchy reviews, the full versions of which can be read by clicking the highlighted title links. Just remember, this is not vengeance, it's a warning. Heed it well...
The film's marketing tethered it to the makers of The Hangover, although the staged teen anarchy of Project X lacks any of that film's charm, bite, or believability. Perhaps worst of all, for a comedy, it is not only not funny, it is the opposite of funny. (The true opposite of "funny" not being "serious" so much as " gratingly soul sucking".) Beyond that, it's simply glaring anti-cinema, offensive to the sensibilities of anyone with any combination of good taste, brains, or value for one's time.
I read the other day that Project X was the most illegally downloaded movie of 2012. A somehow fitting fate for it, even if that also demonstrates a frightening demand for this piece of junk among its targeted younger set. The possibility that this movie about the benefits of throwing the biggest, most decadent, loudest, party (complete with an under-the-radar Hollywood production budget to fuel every wild party movie cliche - lapdogs getting tossed about, vomiting, midget abuse, cheap sex thrills, more vomiting, jumping off the roof into the pool, and finally, the grand inevitability, dad's beloved pricey car in the pool) is a hit on some level is just plain scary.
A blight on the resume of all involved, Project X is a camcorder movie gone as wrong as possible; a digital worst case scenario.
Imagine 1980′s Flash Gordon movie without the Queen soundtrack but the same storyline. Replace all the intentional cornball camp and eye-popping artifice with a serious tone and today's more-real-than-real visual effects. Swap out Max von Sydow's bald, scenery-chewing Ming for Mark Strong's bald, unmemorable Matai Shang. Then add an hour. Do all that, and you get something resembling Disney's now-infamous venture into PG-13 action/adventure, John Carter, a disaster that won't soon be forgotten.
Perhaps I did the film's star Jennifer Lawrence a very minor favor by not mentioning her involvement with this one until this second paragraph of my dismissal of the film, but something tells me that the tremendously talented Hunger Games and Silver Linings Playbook star will land on her feet. Shot and then shelved several years ago, House at the End of the Street is a dilapidated eyesore that someone saw fit to haphazardly slap a fresh coat of paint onto, and call it a thing. No need to stare, there's nothing to see here.
We're told that the situation is urgent enough to shelve everyone's lives and careers waiting to resumed at home in the city, but all we're ever shown is strained inconvenience, never heartbreak. The only indication of affect is Diane Keaton's character's shift from the typically grating autopilot Diane Keaton to a clammed up bundle of nerves - a worthy exchange for the dog. Kasdan's creative interests sound valid, but all I can see is an affirmation of his own personal wealth and security. That wealth and security is well earned, but finding the answer to what we the audience did to earn Darling Companion as Kasdan's long-awaited return is a whole other pointless wild goose chase.
Lola's dilemma (plight of the modern cast-off single girl) is a potentially worthwhile conundrum for movie fodder, but in this case, it lacks any meaningful introspection and weight. It portents "edginess", what with its frequent f-bombs, sex talk, and "acceptable lewdness". And yet, it refuses to be truly graphic. In the LOLA VERSUS world, pole dancers perform in bikinis and everyone has sex in their underwear. This observation is not a complaint in search of rawer content, but rather an observation of the film's pervasive disingenuousness.
Confounding such issues is the fact that The Other Dream Team is clunky - an attribute that is never good in film, particularly one about a basketball team. It's uneven in use of music, transitions, and overall directorial tone; messy and at times even amateurish. The film is yet another regrettable example of a documentary in which they got the interviews with most of the key players but fail to appropriately utilize them. It's like striking gold only to spend it on a wet mud hut.
I could say more, but SWEET MOTHER OF MAUI! That poster is the creepiest thing I've seen all week!! It actually looks like Cooper fell asleep on his side in a tanning bed. Either that, or we're looking at a too-seamless blending of two faces into one, an uncanny valley of complete uselessness. No, the film is not quite as bad as this poster. But it does come very, very close.
More of an impersonal procedural than a foodie's passion project, El Bulli has all the ingredients it needs to fulfill its basic recipe, but lacks the presentational finesse necessary to make it a great all around documentary meal. Perhaps I'm just channeling some sort of inner Adrià when I say that El Bulli could be sent back to the lab for more character, more flavor, and maybe a dash of film grain. And maybe a round in the vacuumizer, for good measure.
So that's my list of the Worst Films of the Year. I confess that I took some pleasure in calling out some of them, but for the most part, I just needed to issue the warning. BUT WAIT! We're not done!!! As far as movies in an of themselves go, the list above is a what-you-see-is-what-you-get tick-off. But beyond that, the single worst movie watching experience of 2012 goes to an old world fuzzy-footed epic that dared to push the technological envelope in ways too atrocious to go unchecked. Proving that a film's frame rate can in fact be a moral issue,
MY NUMBER ONE WORST FILM-GOING EXPERIENCE I'VE ENDURED ALL YEAR IS...
HFR must be rejected outright, lest this unasked-for detrimental eyesore-inducing format drag movies down to the level of younger, lesser evolved art forms such as video games and television. In a movie year marked by various types of on-screen disaster, this would be greatest cataclysm of them all. For far more of my fleshed-out thoughts on this, read my editorial on The Hobbit HFR 3D.
Ready to cleanse the palette? Don't miss my Top Ten Films of 2012. (And please see that I'm no enemy of the use of innovative new technologies when put to effective cinematic use...)