4 Ways To Watch Famous Bad Movies That Make Them Awesome
I consider myself a man of action. A man who likes to fix what's broken. A man who might one day be unbanned from Starbucks for slipping pinches of salt into people's drinks because it brings out their natural sweetness, you bunch of ingrates. That's why nowadays I mainly stick to helping out bad movies by going out there and looking for simple, non-drinking-game ways to instantly fix them. This is what I've come up with so far:
A.I. Artificial Intelligence Becomes A Beautiful Story About Robot Suicide With Just Two Well-Timed Clicks
The Bad Movie:
A.I. Artificial Intelligence might be an unfocused mess with the kind of awkward acting usually only seen in TV reenactments of gang rape, but that's not what makes it so infant-punchingly bad. The movie could've been a masterpiece that explored complex themes of sentience, love, and life, while still being entertaining. After all, it was developed by Stanley Kubrick and directed by Steven Spielberg. But instead it became this disappointing pile of sap about how we should love our perfect robot children, or else it might make them really sad.
How You Can Fix It:
You can easily recut the movie with just two clicks.
In A.I., a married couple takes in a robo-kid prototype (Haley Joel Osment) programmed to imprint on the woman, loving her and thinking of her as his real mother. But Martin, the couple's biological son, is miraculously cured of his sickness and released from suspended animation. Finding herself with a surplus of kids, the woman does the sensible thing and abandons the knockoff one in the middle of a forest while it cries and begs his "mom" to stop being such a colossal bitch.
As Gladstone already pointed out, that's when the movie stops being sorta-good, but it doesn't have to. The next time you have a chance to see it, try this: After Pinocchio Osment (or Pinos for short) gets left in the forest, immediately skip to the scene of him sitting on the ledge of a building, around the one-hour, 47-minute mark.
This is where he's about to jump into the ocean to kill himself after discovering that there are thousands of other robot kids just like him, and that he is nothing special. But if you play the suicide scene right after the abandonment one, it will look like Pinos is taking his own life because a few moments ago, the person he cares about most in this world has figuratively opened his hatch and taken a dump on his CPU.
It would make sense, too, because in both scenes the character is wearing the exact same clothes. Plus, it would connect perfectly to an earlier sequence when Pinos accidentally almost drowns Martin, which was what made his mom want to get rid of him.
"Just let go. This way, you'll never have to do Christmas Vacation 2."
Then, as the suicidal robo-orphan hits the bottom of the ocean, turn the movie off to avoid the idiotic real ending, and that's it. You've just successfully edited an infamously bad flick into a depressing one-hour drama about humanity and love where you can actually identify with the main character, mainly because by the end, you will both be choking on salt water.
Use Your Imagination To Turn
The Bad Movie:
The only reason that a movie like The Collector exists is because someone must have had pictures of a Hollywood executive sexually assaulting a mailbox while high on bath salts. Otherwise, I just can't see a sane adult greenlighting a story which can only be summarized by yelling out "Masked serial killer murders people by booby-trapping their homes" while masturbating furiously.
Speaking of the movie's premise, it's also as far as The Collector got in terms of fleshing out its plot. The final product never really seemed able to decide whether it wanted to be a scary slasher or a suspenseful home invasion movie, so it went for both and ended up neither.
How You Can Fix It:
Pretend that the movie's serial killer is actually a grown-up Kevin McCallister from Home Alone, and the movie suddenly becomes the greatest unintentional comedy in history.
Many people before me have come up with the same theory, which states that after having to fight for his life with homemade traps, Kevin developed severe mental trauma that only worsened as he got older. In the end, his psyche became so damaged that he just snapped, and in typical serial killer fashion, he began to channel his horrifying childhood experiences into the acts of brutal murder we see in The Collector. It would certainly explain why the killer's deadly trap repertoire resembles something that a comic book supervillain would come up with after being bitten by a radioactive copy of Home Alone.
For example, the tar traps Kevin used in the first film could be looked at as early versions of the acid glue trap in The Collector ...
Then we have the Christmas ornament foot shrapnel that was clearly filtered through his sick mind and became a living room filled with bear traps:
The one thing that did not change was Kevin's affinity for bugs and arachnids, which we see when he uses a tarantula as a weapon against Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern. In the horror movie, there is a scene where the Collector stops mid-slaughter to help out a spider, which at first glance looks like typical "psycho" behavior, but if you look at the film as a Home Alone sequel, it's really what ties the entire theory together. With that in mind, it's actually very easy to make yourself believe that a beloved John Hughes character eventually grew up to become a twisted serial killer.
And if that doesn't bring a smile to your face, then maybe these pictures of dead puppies will do the trick, because you and I are clearly living in each other's Bizarro Worlds.
Play A Short Video At The End Of Super Mario Bros. To Transform It Into The Most Faithful Video Game Adaptation Ever
The Bad Movie:
Growing up, I was obsessed with the original Super Mario game, so when I found a film version of it at my local video store, I could barely contain myself. Excitement built up inside me until it erupted in a powerful torrent of vomit, almost as if my body wanted to make room for the awesomeness that was about to fill me up. I rented the movie, rushed home to put it on, and then promptly vomited all over again because of how horrible it was. (In retrospect, I may have had severe food poisoning around that time.)
I mean, nothing in the movie made any sense to me. Why didn't Luigi have a mustache? When did Koopa become just some guy with a stupid haircut? Who the fuck was this Daisy bitch? And ... why did that fat lady have spikes on her boobs?
I'll just rewatch this scene until I figure it out ...
How You Can Fix It:
Finish watching the movie, then immediately play this video:
That's the ending to the American release of Super Mario Bros. 2 for the NES. After the success of Super Mario Bros., Nintendo of America was set to release a sequel to the game, but there was a problem. Having played the Japanese SMB2, they found it too difficult for the Western market. So instead, Nintendo took the unrelated platformer Yume KojoÃÂÃÂ?ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ: Doki Doki Panic, changed the character sprites to Mario, Luigi, Toad, and Princess Peach, and released the entire thing as an easier Super Mario Bros. 2. I'm surprised that the game didn't come with contact info for a guy to come over to your house and literally hold your hand as he beat the game for you.
Don't get me wrong; the game was fun, but it just didn't feel like an SMB sequel. Nintendo dealt with this by tagging on the sleeping Mario sequence at the end, suggesting that everything we just saw only took place in his dream. It helped the game make more sense, and the best part is that it can do the same for the Super Mario Bros. movie.
The faux-sequel and the movie are very different, but they are equally unlike the original Super Mario, just like how dog shit and asbestos are sort of the same thing in terms of stuff you wouldn't want to find inside your hamburger. That's why the film is a great adaptation of Super Mario Bros. 2 -- it perfectly captures the game's spirit of having shit-all to do with its source material. Playing the sleeping Mario video at the end only completes that illusion.
Put On The Theme Song From The
The Bad Movie:
I have a confession. I'm the reason why Revenge Of The Fallen was made. A few years back, I had a part-time job delivering bulk lotion and American-flag-print underwear to Michael Bay's house. During one of my deliveries, I accidentally thanked him for making Transformers a somewhat fun and enjoyable movie. He suddenly stopped rubbing himself against his Hummer, pulled up his American-flag-print underwear, and asked me in a terrified voice, "People actually liked that?!" He then stormed off while screaming about how he was going to reclaim his reputation as the filmmaking version of a car-crash-induced erection. A few months later, Revenge Of The Fallen hit the cinemas.
Surprisingly, making one of the worst sequels ever came easily to Bay. All he had to do was use just three words while shooting the film:
"Bigger!"
"Dumber!"
"Hhhhngg!"
How You Can Fix It:
Whenever the movie starts to piss you off, turn off the audio and replace it with the kickass intro from the old Transformers cartoon.
As someone who spent most of his childhood glued to the TV, at the cost of his health and social life, I can tell you that the majority of our favorite '80s and '90s cartoons were kind of shitty. They had weak stories, cliched characters, and often subpar animation ... because they put all their talent and money into their magical intros, and the Transformers cartoon is no exception.
When I was a kid, I had an official Transformers toy that didn't transform by design. Why did I want it? I'm not sure, but I bet it was because I heard the Transformers theme during the toy's commercial. That's all it took. The sheer power and awesomeness of that one short song was enough to send my brain into full-on "gleeful idiot" mode. And I know that it wasn't just me, because a buddy of mine had a Transformer that only transformed into an ugly fat guy.
Wait, this character was actually canonical? Huh.
In terms of overall quality, Revenge of the Fallen probably isn't any worse than the cartoon we grew up with. Its real problem was that it lacked good music to make us overlook the fact that it sucked. But we all now have the power to correct that mistakes by blasting the Transformers intro whenever the movie loses us.
Admittedly, this will only work for people who've grown up with the cartoon. But then again, we are the only ones who get angry over movies where robot-cars from outer space punch stuff.
Cezary Jan Strusiewicz is a Cracked columnist, interviewer, and editor. Contact him at c.j.strusiewicz@gmail.com.
