If I haven’t been inspired to write about movies lately, it’s for the simple reason that so much of what’s offered these days is uninspiring. Audiences are so desperate for a good time, a distraction, a laugh that they make bad movies popular. Are the pickings so slim that a nominal comedy about a hypoglycemic security guard (
Paul Blart: Mall Cop), a sequel of a sequel of a sequel of a remake of a Roger Corman road movie (
Fast and Furious), and a kiddie flick whose entire scenario is represented in the title (
Monsters vs. Aliens) represent the three most desirable choices in mainstream entertainment? Is that really the best we can do?
An undiscriminating viewer will not care what he sees as long as it diverts for a while, but a cinephile must choose his battles wisely. His hard-earned dollar must not be spent in support of an industry that has no respect for his taste or intelligence. I saw exactly three—three!—typical, middle-of-the-road Hollywood movies in the last ten weeks and that seems about as dry a spell as I can remember.
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