Bad Movies: The Old, Comfy, Kinda Ratty Blanket of the Cinematic World
A foolproof path to untethered joy.
Plus, 8 life lessons from the cinematic underbelly.
You’ve been reading about it everywhere. Bombarded by push notifications and news alerts and dope corona memes and questionable info from elderly relatives. If you’re anything like me, your Hotmail inbox looks a little something like this.
FWD: FWD: FWD: Room Temperature RED BULL Cures Toledo Woman’s COVID-19!!1!
8 Terrible Reality Dating Shows Netflix Recommends Based On Your Viewing Trends Since You’re Never Leaving Your Apartment Again, Maya
That-Website-You-Ordered-From-Once-And-Forgot-To-Uncheck-The-“Subscribe to Emails”-Box’s Response to COVID-19
6 More Terrible Netflix Reality Dating Shows To Distract You From Your Own Halted Dating Life, Maya
That Event You Were Really Looking Forward To? CANCELLED
Uh Oh We’ve Run Out Of Reality Dating Show Recommendations, Maya. Will You Be Okay? Worried About You. Sincerely, Netflix
So that’s why this post is decidedly NOT about the pandemic. Nor is it about design. Nor is it about branding or marketing. It’s a stream of consciousness rant about one of my greatest loves. A truly positive light in this occasionally dark and confusing world. A certainty in these ~uncertain~ times. (If I use the phrase “social distancing” in this article I give you the right to send me a mildly chastising email with up to three (3) swear words. And NO the usage in the previous sentence doesn’t count.)
It’s bad movies, y'all.
I love bad movies. Birdemic. The Room. Fateful Findings. If you haven’t had the joy of seeing any of these films, I politely ask, how dare you?
An actual scene from The Room.
Nothing about these movies works on paper. Nothing about these movies works in practice. But g*sh d*ng it if I’m not entertained.
What constitutes a bad movie, you ask? Well, it has nothing to do with critic scores or oscar snubs or Razzies. It’s about a creator (often a foppish, misguided man) going all in on a thing they’re passionate about, having that thing fail spectacularly, and then watching it rise from the ashes of defeat to be heralded as “awesome" in a Reddit thread 3 to 19 years later.
An actual scene from Fateful Findings.
There’s just something so comforting about a bad movie.
I’m not talking about a so-bad-it's-good scenario. I subscribe to so-bad-it’s-fun. Because, listen. It’s not good. It’ll never be GOOD. But I can promise you it'll be fun.
An actual scene from Birdemic: Shock and Terror.
And isn’t that what we all need right now? Untethered joy. The type of escapism that forces you to suspend your disbelief and temporarily live in a world where characters “play" “football" in tuxedos in an alley on a weekday afternoon for no discernible reason, or what have you.
But if I have to make this blog something more than just a one-woman passion play (and I’m being told I do), here’s a bit of practicality. There are some real lessons I’ve learned from losing countless hours to these movies:
Own what you’re doing with wild abandon.
Work with what you’ve got.
If you don’t know how to do it, figure it out. (Or hire someone that does)
Stand behind it.
Whole-ass it.
If you love it, no one can take that love away from you.
Eliciting a reaction is better than flying under the radar.
Someone’s going to hate it. Who cares.
So I urge everyone to make their own proverbial bad movie. Maybe your proverbial bad movie is a charcoal drawing of your horned lizard. Maybe it’s some kind of tater tot casserole monstrosity. Maybe it’s a meandering blog post on your employer’s website. Maybe it’s creating an actual bad movie.
Whatever it is, throw yourself into it. And when you fail, you’ll always have the old, comfy, kinda ratty blanket of cinema to boost your spirit for 90 minutes. If you need recommendations, hit me up.