Against the Crowd Blogathon 2017: My Entry

You might already know this, but I love horror flicks. One of my favorite sub-genres is vampire movies. I've seen tons of them over the years. I may not be an expert on the matter, but I think I've seen enough to know a good one from a bad one. Honestly, I thought you had to. I had faith in you. Because of you, I was all pumped up when I sat down to watch this first movie...





You begged me to watch this. I didn't even know this movie existed until the blogosphere exploded with glowing reviews of the latest Jim Jarmusch film. That should've been my clue, but I like Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai so I was game. I put it on and people I didn't like drone on for two hours about literature and art while complaining how the world has gone to shit. If you haven't seen it, it's even more pretentious than it sounds. Back in my youth, mustard company Grey Poupon tried to set themselves up as a sophisticated brand. They did so by making a commercial where some snooty rich folks would pulled up next to each other in their Rolls Royces and one says to the other "Pardon me, would you have any Grey Poupon?" The answer would be "But, of course." That person would pass the other the jar and that was that. For most of this movie, it was like watching these two assholes have endless, and endlessly boring, conversations.

Exactly how I felt watching this.

Whenever people other than our main characters got involved and tried to actually, um, do anything at all, it became like later variations of the commercial where the stuffy rich folks would act all indignant because some yahoo calls it jelly, or something. The difference, however, is that we're supposed to be on the side of the uppity folks in Only Lovers Left Alive so there's no humor. Nothing funny happens in this film. Nothing fun happens, either. To be honest, nothing happens at all. It's a plotless stretch of intellectual mumbo-jumbo that thinks it's far more insightful than it actually is. Yes, I got almost all of the references so it wasn't just flying over my head. It was just painfully boring to watch. I know, not every movie has to be a whiz-bang affair. I know that not every vampire flick has to feature the creatures running roughshod over the human population who brandishes crucifixes and wooden stakes to arm themselves. I even know that the vampire is an excellent vehicle for social commentary with their plight capably standing in for any number of our ills. I just ask that the movie be interesting. At this, Jarmusch failed miserably. I've had more fun counting ceiling tiles. Hell, I've had more fun just noticing that a room even has ceiling tiles. (My full review)



This is one of the movies where it boils down to the side of the aisle on which you choose to stand. If you're, you know, a human being, chances are you side with the audience on this one. After all, 79% of them actually liked it. But this post, this whole blogathon, is about telling critics to shove it. Yes, I know, I usually side with those snobbish purveyors of the quality of our entertainment, but not this time. This time, and I say this at the risk of sounding like one of you high-falutin' types who likes Only Lovers Left Alive, they just didn't get it. It's The Matrix mixed with Romeo & Juliet and drowned in vampires vs. werewolves sauce. What's not to love? Nothing, I tell ya! This is a magical ride. Do critics understand that occasionally, it's okay for a movie just to look cool, act cool, and be...cool. I mean, take this quote from a negative review written by a very popular film critic:

The sort of movie in which the head vampire telegraphs his evil by using a cell phone and dressing like the Kinks' Ray Davies in the early '80s. - Owen Gleiberman, Entertainment Weekly

Yeah, aaaaannndd, I'm not seeing the problem here.

Let's try another one:

Underworld is afloat in a sea of silly accents, candelabrums, and too much eyeliner...This is terrible, terrible stuff. - David Cornelius, eFilmCritic.com

Not sure what's so terrible about silly accents, candelabrums, and eyeliner. I admit there's a limit to how much eyeliner should be in a movie, but I'm willing to look the other way on this one. The other stuff (not really) my friend David thinks is so terrible...just fun, fun, I say!

Oh, why not one more:

[Beckinsale's] detached, no-nonsense demeanor helps give this chilly adventure an S&M-inspired eroticism. - Nick Schager, Lessons of Darkness

Okay, I get giddy just reading that. I mean, I'm not into whips and chains at all, good for you if you are. Since we're being honest, as she appears here, Kate Beckinsale is too skinny for my particular taste in women. But damn if she doesn't make all of that work in this movie. She's a dominatrix I can get with. You have no idea the amount of joy I would've experienced had she strolled into a frame of Fifty Shades of Grey and popped a silver nitrate cap in Dorian's ass. That's getting off-topic, though. Point is, Underworld is one of my all-time favorite vampire flicks and I know better than 69% of critics.

Hmmm, where's Dorian?

Well peeps, this was supposed to be a wrap-up of yesterday's activities in the blogathon, but uh...there was none. That's cool because there was plenty of it on the previous days...