Preemptive Critics
“The Libertine”
Sex sells.
And filmmakers know it. More and more, movies are venturing into the risque , and without apology. While parents were slightly put off by the latest “Harry Potter” film’s PG-13 rating, they’re going to be even more upset when “Goblet of Fire: the Unrated DVD” hits store shelves.
Sex sells.
It’s a trend that won’t be going out of style anytime soon.
But here’s a trend I didn’t see coming: sexually-driven films set in the effing 17th century.
Kiera Knightly comes out with “Pride and Prejudice.” Heath Ledger plays “Casanova.” And now Johnny Depp stars in “The Libertine,” a film about a sex-crazed English poet who’s writing a play for Charles II.
And while I could maybe accept Dumbledore and McGonigal hooking it up, or even a little Ron-on-Hermione action, I get a little squeamish when a sex scene shows too much curly, white wig.
It’s just unnatural.
I preemptively hate this movie.
-Aaron Falk/afc@cc.usu.edu
“Anapolis”
“Why are you so hard on me?”
“Because I believe in you.”
Those are the words forever burned into my mind after spending 12 grueling weeks in critic’s school.
Oh, I ruffled a few feathers, that’s for sure.
I was a punk kid that nobody believed in. Everyone thought that, despite my modern good looks, I’d never make it because of my rebellious nature.
I didn’t want to play by their rules. You know, actually viewing a movie before I reviewed it. I knew that I had it in me to be a critic without having to be “informed” or “unbiased.”
But there was one editor out there who believed in me. He pushed me so hard. There were nights when he made me write boob joke after boob joke, with not a drop of sympathy.
Finally, after he threw my piece comparing David Spade to a pet ferret back in my face, I lost it.
After a bloody fistfight, he told me why he was making my life so miserable: He said he saw a little of himself in me. We wept together.
Now, “Annapolis” has ripped off my story, placed it the Naval academy and replaced me with some uglier guy.
And for that, I preemptively hate this movie.
-Steve Shinney/steveshinney@cc.usu.edu
“Nanny McPhee”
The 1995 Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar went to English-born Emma Thompson for her revision of Jane Austen’s highbrow romance “Sense and Sensibility.”
Ten years later, she decided to follow it up with another top-notch Oscar bid called “Nanny McPhee,” which follows an acid-scarred Mary Poppins as she fights to save seven petulant brats from an auntie that could have raised Hitler.
With this film, Hollywood has helped me realize that the biggest problem with America isn’t the inability of our Commander-in-Chief to form complete sentences; nor is it the fact that Paris Hilton is allowed to do prime time commercials wearing less clothing than Scooby Doo.
No. I now realize the biggest problem with America is that we just don’t have enough magical nannies.
Sure, we Americans can watch movies about British nannies, but when the time comes, who is going to save our children from the Evil Society of Spinster-Aunts or the Women’s Suffrage Movement, which threaten the very core of family life?
Batman?
I doubt he could even fit up a chimney, step-in-time … up a chimney, step-in-time.
For getting two Oscar-caliber actors to star in a movie too lowbrow for Keanu Reeves, I preemptively hate this film.
-Matt Wright/mattgo@cc.usu.edu