JUNKFILM

I was talking to my neighbor a while back and he had just come home from watching Speed Racer in the theater.  Part of my anime-nerd side really wanted to see the movie, specially on the big screen, I kinda knew I would be losing something when it finally came to DVD.

I was drinking my cold Dr Pepper, questioning how he had liked the movie.  His face contorted for a second, almost as if he had something to say about Hitler being a less than perfect leader, and the SS were around the corner, listening and ready to drag him off for “cleaning.”  He looked as if he was straining for the right words to describe my seemingly simple inquiry.  After what seemed like a minute, he responded:

“It was…uh….colorful.”

“Colorful?”  I asked.  What the hell does colorful mean? I wondered.  He quickly ended our conversation and went back into his house, as if he felt bad for saying anything bad about the movie.  I thought I heard a faint voice,

“Rise, my friend.”

I shook it off like a badly written horror/thriller script starring Mark Wahlberg about people dying for seemingly no reason, and played it off as the wind.   Went back inside, and had another Dr Pepper.

Time rolled by, I’d say about a day or so,  and our conversation plagued my mind so I looked up online to read other people’s reviews of the film.  I found things like: “The movie was awesome, it was like a live action cartoon,” and “Speed Racer was really colorful and face paced,” and “It was…uhh…colorful.”  Now, to be honest, these weren’t the only reviews I found.  I read some pretty castrating words, which were calming after seeing “it was …..uh….colorful.”  Which brought me to think….

We are taught at a very young age that “if you have nothing nice to say…”  Everyone?

That’s right, “don’t say anything at all.”  I’m glad some of you listened to your mothers.  We are so afraid of hurting feelings, even when it comes to movies, things we PAY FOR.  I thought about all the social niceaties.

“You no longer need those.”

That same whisper on the wind…who was it?  I went next door and talked to my neighbor.  I told him about social pleasantries and how when it comes to things you pay for, things you waste time on, you have every right to bitch and complain about them.  I saw a hint of apprehension in his eyes until…

“Your feeble skills are no match for the dark side!”

He asked me if I had heard it too and I agreed.  He stirred.  Then he spoke after a short silence, “I really didn’t think it was that hot.”  That’s it, I told him.  Keep going.  Just because the trailer says it’s a cool movie doesn’t mean you have to believe it is.  He smiled, “It was not in my top 10 movies of the month.”

I comforted him by telling him, no one would care what he thought.  No one would look down on him if he thought the movie sucked.  He smiled wider, but then looked around in a panic…

“I assure you, we are quite safe from your friends here!”

We both heard it, and for the first time, we both agreed 100%.  He closed his eyes, “I enjoyed some parts but most were not at all cool.”  I high fived him and goaded him on to go further.  He opened his eyes and gritted his teeth, “I will not buy this movie on DVD when it comes out!”
“I’m looking forward to completing your training. In time, you will call me Master.”

I felt the blood rise in him.  I looked him in the eye and told him to pretend like he was online, that no one would ever know it was him saying these things.  He snapped back, “I really didn’t enjoy this movie.”  More, I told him.  “I want my money back!”  More, I goaded on and on.  “I wasted 2 hours of my life that I will never get back, no matter how many good films I watch!”

“Good… your hate has made you powerful. Now fulfill your destiny…”

“IT FUCKING SUCKED OLD MAN BALLS!”  He shouted as if not having a care in the world.  I applauded and cheered him on.  “Speed Racer was so bad, my sperm has been tainted and my children will be retarded.”  I laughed and kept him going.  “I think Titanic was a much better film…”

I breathed in ready to cheer and took in what he said.  I gasped.  I held my breath.  The windy voice came again…

“Oh, no, my young Jedi. You will find that it is you who are mistaken… abou t great… many… things.”

“Whoa dude,” I told him.  “Rule #1 of criticism: We hate all movies that start with “T” and rhyme with “Itanic.” ” He smiled.  I think he understood.   I asked him if he had seen any other movies this summer, he responded that he had seen Prom Night and the Foot Fist Way. I smiled and ask, “And what did you think of them?”  He spoke, almost as if scripted, “They were ok….” He caught himself.  He looked at me and closed his mouth.  Then, after a second of realization, he sopke, “They both were terrible, terrible wastes of celluloid.”

“Strike me down with all of your hatred, and your journey towards the dark side will be complete!”

He raised his fist at me and was about to strike with vengeful force.  I started to move back when I realized he thought I was the one speaking the windy vocals.  I told him to wait, to focus your inner hatred, to build it up and unleash it at movies that deserve such hatred.  He smiled and said, ” good idea.  Will Ferrel should have a new movie coming out soon.”
“Now witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational battle station!”

It was at this point I was wondering what the hell was going on.  I looked inside his living room window and saw a familiar movie on his TV.  It was the The Return of the Jedi playing.

I smiled, shook his hand as I welcomed him to the new, wonderful world of movie loathing.  We parted ways, but I never forgot that day.