For years, teen Boggy held the Netflix queue hostage, moving the rest of the family's selections around like chess pieces on a board, or deleting them as heartlessly as toppling pawns. Then he magnanimously created the Boggy Movie Tournament, and a meta game was born. The playing field is finally open. The competition is fierce. You'll never recommend another movie without asking yourself, "But, is it a winner?"

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Quote Week

By Eric 

To mix things up a bit (because I assume our readers are as bored of this shitty tournament as we are), I'm structuring this week's summary around the reaction to each movie by a single participant: Beth. Maybe this will give you some insight into how my dear old mother interacts with movies.

Lydia's Film: Little Norse Prince Valiant
Mum says: "Is this thing not animated?"

Bless her heart, but my mother is always the last to show up to Movie Times. This is because she always gets distracted with some bullshit like reading emails or writing her book or doing my laundry. Anyway, sometimes we call her upstairs and she answers that she is "coming." Most people would call this an outright lie, but those who know our family understand that we have a unique understanding of the passage of time. In the case of Little Norse Prince Valiant (or Little Norse Prince for short) she allowed us start without her. When she did show up, she arrived during a scene in which they had stopped real animation to just show us storyboards. This happened twice during the film. It was the second worst animated movie I have ever seen.

Dad's Film: Cars
Mum says: "This premise doesn't work."

Cars is the worst animated movie I have ever seen. Mum's complaint is basically that no one wants to watch talking cars for two hours, even if you put googly eyes on them and alternate between three expressions: smug, smugger, and neutral.

Her Own Film: Get Low
Mum says: "Turns out all critically acclaimed movies suck."

Mum often picks a movie because every reviewer loved it. Now I'm not naming names, but Sideways, Winter's Bone, The Class, and The Kids are All Right were terrible terrible boring movies. Something finally clicked with Get Low and she realized that professional reviewers and Sundance sycophants have forgotten what good movies are, as a rule.

My Film: John Tucker Must Die
Mum says: "Hey, Eric? It's stretched. Can you make it widescreen? What's wrong with the aspect? I think it's a bit stretched.  Eric? Are you awake?"

I cannot fix it. You saw me try.

Gene's Film: Stand By Me
Mum Says: "This is what Stephen King thinks he was like as a kid."

My mother has an almost supernatural gift of pointing out when authors are being egotistical. While she's goodhearted enough to still admire them despite their moments of vanity, I can't read Neil Gaiman's website anymore since she pointed out that a new photo of him loads every time you hit refresh.