
83: Droll
nd the other pillars of the genre weren't really trying anymore. "Nu metal" was played out by Korn's second record. Every metal fan I know was clinging to anything with rapid riffs, but that almost surely were in the context of overtly cheesy songs with vocals that would make The Darkness' lead singer blush. There was no real reason to pay any attention to the genre. Then, rather suddenly, along came Atlanta's Mastodon. Their first few records were crafted with a strong sense of metal's glorious history. Their second full-length was a heavy metal reenvisioning of Moby Dick! As lofty as those intentions may have been, and though it is a decent album, it never really won me over.
ssed from one member to another, but we don't really care about them. My buddy Nick, a devout metalhead, says that he prefers to listen to the instrumental-only version. It's that impressive.
I have to be honest. This album nearly didn't make the cut. But going back to that whole "enjoyability factor" upon which I based my overarching criteria, I couldn't leave it out. There's really nothing profound about this record. But it's gotta be the sweetest little album you'll ever hear.
ws from there, alternately hopeful and forlorn. But at every point, you get the feeling that these are people you'd want to hang out with. The album is overtly welcoming.
At 2:46 into the first song, Cedric Bixler-Zavala inserts a shrieking gasp into his hollering that surely must be an accident. It borders on comedy. I never noticed it before today, yet I think it matters because it highlights that this was a band going for broke. They had already built a following for their screamy rock, but had only found their real stride on the previous EP, Vaya. But they truly unleashed everything they had in their 2000 album, even deploying Iggy Pop in a distracting cameo that somehow worked to great effect. The record is an all-out assault. The few "quiet" moments still feel disconcerting before they revert to all hell breaking loose all over again. Needless to say, this is not an album for everyone. But it certainly is for me.
he intensity while at the same time giving the songs the flow they need. I almost want to say that there is a groove here, but that would be awfully misleading. I guess what I'm saying is, the tacks and nails aren't the rusty kind you find in a junkyard. They are fresh from the box and ready to do their damage.
We all have our own favorite musical "tragedies" of varying scales. Certainly we should all agree that Otis Redding and Jimi Hendrix left us too soon, right before what we sure to be fruitful periods in their careers. But you could point to any number of other groups that simply called it quits when by all appearances they were on the verge of something great. I haven't put together a list or anything (yet), but one band that would definitely find itself on it is Quicksand. In my mind, they were the height of post-hardcore rock, or whatever you want to call it, with aggressive riffs laid over technically precise yet pounding drums. When they broke up, I was crestfallen. Crestfallen I tell you.
This record holds up really well. I don't find myself spinning it as often as I should, but every time I do, I'm reminded of how sewn up it is. The guitars work perfectly on each track, either fanning out to spread across the spectrum of the song or crunching and churning. Highlights include "Traveling by Telephone" and "Used for Glue." They still sound fresh - especially in this day and age where nobody but Billy Corgan wants to actually rock (just wait, I'll contradict myself on that on within a week when we get to album #47, but the point stands). The album closer, "Hooligans for Life" has a triumphant vibe that perfectly sends you on your way. You can't listen to it and fail to have pep in your step.






Say what you want about the original Underdog cartoon. It was flimsy, repetitive and campy as hell, but at least it had character. After taking a pill, Shoeshine Boy would transform into Underdog and rescue his Sweet Polly Purebred from the nefarious Simon Bar Sinister. From the newsreel narration to Underdog's peppy attitude, its tone always delivered a smile to viewers' faces. But this Disney film is not interested in tone. It's hard to tell if it's interested in much of anything, actually. Casting a real beagle as Underdog is a questionable decision at best; in the series he always seemed more like a regular person who was born with floppy ears and a wet nose. Affected by a lab experiment gone awry, Underdog can suddenly talk and fly and accidentally blow things up. It all plays out like a cross between Benji and Blankman, except, you know, dumber. If they really wanted to make this a dumbed down kids film, they should have made a "Superdog" movie and called it Air Bud: Pooper Trooper. Or they could have gone in the other direction and hired Triumph the Insult Comic Dog. But this is family fare that will only serve to put your kids to sleep. Also, I freaking hate beagles (long story). Here's an example of the humor on display in this stupid movie:
How do you translate a beloved, but somewhat insipid children's cartoon to the big screen in 1987? You bring the characters from Eternia to Earth of course. That way you don't need any elaborate sets or special effects. Also, you completely abandon most of the storyline, history, and characters from the original series because you think you can come up with something better - like soldiers in black helmets with machine guns (seriously). And of course, you hire Dolph Lundgren. The He-Man series was always a rather basic show, with Prince Adam and Cringer screwing around until Skeletor showed up with a cadre of evil dudes at which time Adam would transform into He-Man and save the day. But this film adaptation completely ignored the Prince Adam storyline. Instead the main characters are two high school sweethearts, one of whom is played by a young Courtney Cox. This movie exudes the notion that was made up as it went along, completely full of nonsensical preening and lacking the majority of the eccentric characters from the series. The funny thing is, as bad as this film was, the only thing that kiboshed a sequel was the high cost Mattell was charging for the rights to the characters.
The one thing they did right with this movie was to hire three hot chicks. (Admit it. You thought Tara Reid was hot right up until she became Tara Reid.) Sadly, that's the only thing. The TV show always featured the band seemingly "covering" an episode of Scooby-Doo whereby they would foil some sinister villain's plot to destroy the world or steal a lot of money. In the film, the scheme is being perpetrated by their own record label and the US Government. But it's so incredibly stupid that it pains me to give the description. The whole idea is that the government is trying to make sure teens get the message that they should spend their hard-earned babysitting and lawn-mowing money to further the economy and embrace American consumerism. It's hard to tell if the filmmakers were trying to make a point because there were 73 separate companies that were involved with product placement in the film (though none of them paid for it). It's also hard to tell if they were trying to make a joke because there's not a single thing worth laughing at in the entire film. During their meteoric rise to superstardom, the girls get "catty" with each other before working out their differences. The end result is one of the most boring and credulous movies about the inner workings of pop music you could imagine. But hey, at least the music is horrendous:
OK, let's start with the fact that outside of tracking down lasagna from the kitchen, Garfield isn't supposed to "do" anything. That's the whole point of his existence and the reason suburban 40-somethings paste his image on their cubicle walls. After a cursory look at his laziness, the majority of this film consists of Garfield running around town, trying to save Odie, a dog he hates. Bill Murray supplies Garfield's voice, a transgression for which he will be forgiven largely because he's Bill Murray and because it's only his voice, so nobody will casually recognize him while flipping across TBS. But worse than the nonsense surrounding the main character is the romantic subplot played out between Breckin Meyer and Jennifer Love Hewitt. After seeing Hewitt's The Tuxedo, I recently remarked to a friend that the most notable thing in the film is that Jackie Chan acts circles around her, and he can't even speak English. In this case, the real dog playing Odie easily outdoes them both, though this his hardly surprising. I realize making a movie out of a character that normally occupies our attention for three panels a day is a daunting challenge. But nobody held a gun to the heads of the filmmakers and demanded they take up such a challenge.
It is tempting to believe that Leslie Nielsen was simply so old that he thought he would probably die soon after the success of The Naked Gun and its sequels and wanted to make as much money as he could as quickly as possible. How else can you explain appearing in Spy Hard, Surf Ninjas, Wrongfully Accused, and 2001: A Space Travesty? But of all the dreadful films he's made, none are more ill-conceived than Mr. Magoo. This might be the best existing example of Hollywood executive stupidity. If you're going to remake an old cartoon, at least choose one that people actually like. For those who don't know, Mr. Magoo is basically blind, but apparently is not aware of the severity his condition so he frequently mistakes one thing for another. What he believes to be a beautiful woman may in fact be a sunflower or a broom. He'll wander into a restaurant thinking it's a hospital or a zoo. Even though Nielsen is clearly not a picky man, I can't help but wonder if he was already method acting when he OK'd the script. Actually, if you're curious about this movie and want a laugh, the best thing to do is read Roger Ebert's review and save yourself 87 minutes. It's far more entertaining than anything in the film. Just watching the trailer is unbearable:
This was probably an idea doomed from the start, but casting Matthew Broderick in the titular role certainly didn't help matters. Broderick can play the bumbling fool, but not an arrogantly incurious one. And since arrogant incuriousity was the whole point of the original series, it was clear that they weren't even aiming at the right target. The movie finds itself completely derailed from its source material, but has a myriad of other problems as well. Whoever thought it was a good idea to take a character who has a helicopter come out of his hat and "play it straight" had a couple screws loose. Instead of giving Gadget a wild series of clues to follow (with help from his niece Penny and her computer book), we get a maudlin backstory of a security guard who always wanted to be a police officer, and is also a really nice guy. After being nearly killed, they turn him into an android who then goes about saving the day and whatnot. It's like Robocop, but for comotose kids. Maybe they were trying to set up a series of films that would better follow the gleefully obtuse antics of the original series, but the film was such a disaster that the inevitable follow-up featuring French Stewart and went straight to DVD. Thank goodness. Trust me when I say that this video is better than any scene in the film. You're welcome:
This is easily the biggest disappointment on the list. The story is as revered as they come, and the 1966 cartoon is replayed every Christmas with wide appreciation. A big-budget treatment directed by Ron Howard and starring Jim Carrey certainly seemed like a good idea. But its failings are as varied as they are consistent. Let's start with the glaringly obvious: the Whos down in Whoville look really freaking creepy. I felt the strong urge to look away every time one appeared onscreen. The original special was only 26 minutes, a running time that pretty much told the complete story. To stretch it into a feature film, various asinine plot points were included or adjusted. First of all, the Grinch has a past as one of the Whos, he has a love interest putting him in competition with the current mayor of Whoville, and little Cindy Lou Who has a weird fascination/friend crush on the Grinch. None of this makes any sense except to align the film with typical Ron Howardian sentimentalism and add minutes. But the biggest problem is that Jim Carrey does exactly what he was hired to do: act like a buffoon. That the majority of his scenes are shared solely with a dog only gives him more creative license. The Grinch was always more conniving than evil and in no way a clown. But Carrey hams it up way more than he did as The Mask. With all the plot changes and Carrey's mugging, they should have just made up a whole new set of characters and called it something else. It wouldn't have made the movie any better, but at least Theo Geisel's grave could stop spinning.
You knew this would be a bad idea the moment you heard about it. While nobody would ever go as far as to call the cartoon "smart", at least it had a somewhat hair-raising edge to it. But of course, the live-action incarnation was directed at those 8 and under which meant all the spookiness, sense of fear, and pot jokes would be left out of the script. (Seriously, what exactly is in a Scooby-snack? Why do they crave them so much and become wildly paranoid after eating them? But I digress.) Combine that with the casting of Hollywood's "up and comers" in the four human roles and this thing was doomed from the first moment director Raja Gosnell said "Action." Matthew Lillard puts a lot of effort into his Shaggy voice, but aside from that, none of the principals can keep up with the CGI dog, and the plot is worse than any episode of the original series. Also, instead of the Harlem Globetrotters we get the band Sugar Ray. Things were so bad that I was longing for Scrappy Doo. Perhaps the movie's biggest crime is casting a hotter actress a Velma than the one they picked for Daphne. Whose idea was that? At least we can thank this film for lowering the profile of both Freddie Prinze Jr. and Sarah Michelle Gellar. So in that sense I suppose it's not completely worthless.
Halle Berry in a cheetah bikini only gets you so far. This is the one that opened the floodgates and therefore deserves a huge chunk of the blame for this list's existence. Perhaps some movie producer stumbled upon Raising Arizona, heard John Goodman's ubiquitous screaming and realized he'd riff a good "Wiiiiillllllmaaaaaa." No matter what the impetus was for this project, you'd be hard pressed to think of a more boring way to spend an afternoon. Goodman's "acting" in this one consists mainly talking out of one side of his mouth, and he's not given the opportunity to pull off even the most modest of Fred's traditional crafty schemes. From a business standpoint, they were on to something as this dreadful piece of schlock netted over $350,000,000 worldwide (plus another $70,000,000 in rentals). That number probably overcame the considerable advertising budget. This is a complete waste of time for all involved, but especially for any poor viewer who's bothered to sit down and watch it. It gets high distinction on this list because its success opened led to most of the others. This clip is more entertaining than the movie itself. Working hard on those moves...
This steamy mess of a disaster cost 76 million dollars to make, but only garnered 26 million at the box office. It also caused considerable damage to the reputation of producer and star Robert De Niro. Not only does it completely miss the entire point of the series, there's not a damn thing in this movie that remotely works. They apparently thought that putting famous names alongside the cartoon characters everyone knew and loved would be sufficient. In lieu of working on a real script they painted the scenes with broad, dumb strokes and happily called it a day. Every attempt at the tongue in cheek humor from the original series ended up failing in this movie. Instead we get terrible puns that are not played for laughs - just for the references themselves. Whoopi Goldberg's cameo as a judge who exclaims "Oh my God, it's Rocky and Bullwinkle!" pretty much sums up the approach to making this movie. Watch the trailer, realize that these are the best jokes they had, and you get the idea. Let's never speak of this again.