Millie Castellani
Staff Writer
I am prefacing this piece with the disclosure that I am not an avid movie watcher. In my lifetime, I’ve likely sat through the full run time of less than maybe 30 movies. That being said, take what I say lightly – or perhaps with some lenience when I say that bad movies can be good movies.
Now, some of my favorite movies include titles that are considered to be ‘film classics’ in their respective genres – “The Tale of The Princess Kaguya” and “Rear Window” respectively, from different studios both on a national and international scale. Captivating, charming, and artistically styled with skilled writing; these movies are a pleasure to watch and rewatch.
With that being said, the top spot of my favorite movie of all time goes to the 2003 adaption of Dr. Seuss’ “The Cat in the Hat.” Yes, that movie – which received a 10% ‘Tomatometer’ rating on the Rotten Tomatoes website (which, for those like me who aren’t readily familiar with this rating, is a very, very low rating). The live-action portrayal features actor Mike Meyers as Cat in The Hat – who was also featured in the parody spy movie series “Austin Powers.” The movie itself is off-the-wall crazy, in what I like to think of as a maximalist nightmare.
So then, why am I a fan of this movie – which could easily be written off as an overstimulating cash grab aimed at unsuspecting children? Because it’s terrible! It doesn’t try to say anything, nor does it try to tap into my brain. Its jokes are sometimes sloppily executed, but when they hit – they hit hard belly laughs. If anything, the sheer absurdity of it all makes it entertaining to me.
As much as I love movies that leave me with a lingering sense of confusion –or movies that immediately make me think, “Huh, I need to watch that again;” I simply cannot deny my soft spot for movies that are shameless film slop. This also extends to the realm of movies that take themself so seriously it’s comical and to those blessed movies that know exactly what they are and don’t pretend to be something more than what they are.
What I’m trying to say, whether it be to an average movie-goer, those like me who can barely remember half of the movies they’ve seen, or to the cinema super-fans I see in passing while writing my rare Letterboxed review online: Give bad movies a shot. Go in looking for a laugh – or at the very least, to check something off of a watch list.