Howdy loyal followers and wandering spambots! After a hiatus induced by PhD work, I’m back with my annual analysis of the worst films of the year.
As with previous years, I want to emphasize that this is a measure of public opinion – I’m not assessing any kind of objective quality, but rather gauging the public perception of which movies were the worst of the year. I measure this by compiling published year-end “Worst of 2019” lists (from sources like The AV Club and Variety), then I tally up how often each film appears on these lists. It makes for a simple frequency distribution to visualize how widely despised these various 2019 films were. If you would like to see my tallies, they are available here.
2019 saw a wider distribution of films receiving tallies than previous years – a total of 127 from 16 published lists. In 2018, for comparison, only 103 films received tallies, which was more than either 2017 or 2016.
As with previous years, there was no universal consensus for the worst film of the year. The leader of the pack was only included in 14 of 16 year-end lists, meaning 2 lists omitted it entirely. However, the is the strongest win for any movie I have covered since I started doing this annual post. There were plenty of ties within the rankings, though one film did stand above (below?) the others, unlike last year’s first-place tie. Without further delay, here are the rankings.
(Tie) The Kitchen / Dark Phoenix
(Tie) The Fanatic / MIB: International / Gemini Man
(Tie) Rambo: Last Blood / Hellboy
(Tie) A Madea Family Funeral / The Goldfinch / Replicas / Shaft / UglyDolls
Are there any movies that you expected to see that didn’t make the cut? Were any of these movies better than the public judged them to be? Let me know!
Apparently, today is the 8th anniversary of the start of this blog.
This seems as good a time as any to address something: Misantropey has been an increasingly difficult endeavor for me as of late. Though, I’m not sure if that is a bad thing.
When I started putting diligent effort into this beast back in 2014, it admittedly wasn’t entirely fueled by passion. It was propelled as much by loneliness and isolation as any positive resonance I felt from the regular accomplishment of writing and posting.
During my time covering the IMDb Bottom 100, I had a job that was time-consuming, emotionally-taxing, and required a significant amount of travel. I can’t recall how many of those entries were written in dingy hotel rooms in remote towns in Georgia or Arkansas or North Carolina, so often adorned with shoddily duct-taped windows that did little to shield me from wafts of diesel vapors and the faint aromas of the distant tacos of strangers.
This blog was a surrogate for human interaction and companionship, and a pretty bad one. It consumed time, but provided no caloric content in return. It made days and nights pass quicker in the same way magicians make planes and buildings disappear – it didn’t. I just really wanted to believe it did.
I came up with a formula for posts that, once you know what it is, should be pretty transparent. I have always used the same skeletal outline, with very little variation:
I was able to crank out “reviews” like clockwork by hanging flesh loosely on those bones. I put “reviews” in quotations, because they have never really been that. For the most part, these posts were opportunities for me to research productions, and coalesce the information into a brief, digestible form. The “review,” insomuch as I provided them, was usually only a fraction of a given post (“Criticism” in the outline above). A few salient thoughts, at most.
This has not been a creative endeavor at its core. This has been, for most of its existence, a mechanism. Quasi-therapeutic avoidance and distraction from a life that was, for a significant time, very empty. I set my own deadlines and timetables to round out an illusion of meaningful productivity. There was a time where I was doing an original post, 750-1000 words, every day. I would block out my weekends around what movies I needed to cover for the week.
Things are different now, though. As my life has gotten better, the blog has gotten harder. Since starting graduate school and getting married, there have been so many other, wonderful things to take up my time, and I haven’t felt the need for this mechanism of depression prestidigitation by way of amateur film criticism. I’ve also taken up academic writing, and have a handful of journal publications coming in the next few months. I’ll even be starting PhD work in the fall, which is deeply exciting.
I’m been working on adapting this blog into something more fulfilling, and a little different. Ivy On Celluloid has given me some new life for this work – I’ve only done it when it felt right, and have tried to capture a sense of fun with it that has never really been part of the formula here. So, that is something I am certainly going to continue. However, it is also far more time consuming than the formulaic work I’ve relied on in the past.
I think that is where the future of this blog lies – an embracing of infrequency, and a reclaiming of this platform into something positive and internally fulfilling. To that end, I think I’m done with “bad movies.” I like doing my year-end analyses on the publicly perceived worst films of the year, but unless I see something that actually catches my attention, fascination, or curiosity, I’m not going to write about it. I’m not sure what that means for content just yet – but I think I’m shattering the old skeleton structure for good.
So, this blog is going to be different going forward. It will certainly be quieter, but it will also be better – I’m only going to write when there is something motivating behind it. I’m not going to let this be a burden or a coping mechanism – it is going to be an outlet for my thoughts about movies. That’s what it always should have been.
Today, I’m continuing my series of posts analyzing films for their portrayals of higher education by taking a deep dive into Adam Sandler’s college football comedy, The Waterboy.
The plot of The Waterboy is summarized on IMDb as follows:
A waterboy for a college football team discovers he has a unique tackling ability and becomes a member of the team.
The Waterboy was directed by Frank Coraci (The Ridiculous 6, Click, The Wedding Singer), who is primarily known for his numerous collaborations with comedy writer/actor Adam Sandler, The Waterboy among them. The screenplay was co-written by Sandler along with another one of his frequent collaborators, Tim Herlihy (The Wedding Singer, Mr. Deeds, Little Nicky, Saturday Night Live).
Beyond Sandler, the cast of the film includes Henry Winkler (Arrested Development, Happy Days, Night Shift), Kathy Bates (Misery, Fried Green Tomatoes), Fairuza Balk (The Craft, The Island of Doctor Moreau), Jerry Reed (Smokey & The Bandit), Clint Howard (Evilspeak, The Ice Cream Man, Apollo 13), and Rob Schneider (The Hot Chick, The Animal).
Co-writer of The Waterboy Tim Herlihy described in an interview the inspiration for the fictional institution name ‘South Central Louisiana State University’:
I always remember Southwest Missouri State… I just thought that was so funny. Not even South Missouri State. Like, Southwest Missouri State. They didn’t even have one direction. They had to share the South direction with Southeast Missouri State. So we definitely wanted to do that.
Critically, The Waterboy didn’t fare terribly well, with critics labeling it as “trash,”“witless,” and “dumb.” However, it proved to be financially successful, taking in a worldwide theatrical gross of over $185 million on a production budget of $23 million, carving a place for itself in the public zeitgeist. It is now hailed by many as a cult classic, and generational favorite sports comedy.
To begin the higher education analysis, I want to take a look at the various schools portrayed in the film. As with Necessary Roughness, there is a mixture of fictitious and real institutions. Real colleges featured include Clemson University, the University of Michigan, the University of Louisville, and the University of Iowa, who are all shown in either montages or mentioned in passing. Another institution that I believe is featured is Vanderbilt University. Though it is not mentioned by name, a football team is shown with an almost identical star-shaped helmet insignia and color palette, which I have compared side-by-side below.
The fictitious universities in the film include the two central institutions to the story – University of Louisiana, and South Central Louisiana State University. University of Louisiana is depicted as a large university with a recent history of national football success. For this reason, I think that it is clearly intended to be a parallel to Louisiana State University, despite how close the fictional name is to the University of Louisiana – Lafayette or University of Louisiana – Monroe. South Central Louisiana State University, on the other hand, is pretty clearly portrayed as a less successful “little brother” to the University of Louisiana. From what I can gather, however, it is still definitely a generally-focused public institution, which rules out a few real universities in the state as parallels (Tulane, LA Tech). A detail that is implied by Bobby Boucher’s commuter status is that both University of Louisiana and South Central Louisiana State University are within easy driving distance of each other, which helps narrow down real-life candidates. Based on this, I think it is immensely clear that the SCLSU Mud Dogs are a stand-in for the Ragin’ Cajuns from the University of Louisiana – Lafayette. Lafayette and Baton Rouge are merely an hour from each other, and separated by swampy terrain akin to how Bobby’s home is portrayed.
Aside from the University of Louisiana and SCLSU, a number of the other football teams from the film hail from fictitious institutions. One game is shown between SCLSU and the University of Central Kentucky. There isn’t actually a University of Central Kentucky – among the six Division I schools with football teams in the state, I believe the closest analogue is Western Kentucky University. Likewise, another game features the University of West Mississippi -an institution that doesn’t exist. As with Kentucky, there are six real Division I schools with football teams in Mississippi, of which I suspect University of Southern Mississippi is the real life parallel (mostly due to the direction-based naming).
The climactic championship game featured in the film is called the Bourbon Bowl, which follows the naming tradition of post-season games in Division I FBS college football. While there have been a number of oddly named bowl games due to various sponsorships, there has never been a Bourbon Bowl. Given the records of the teams invited – University of Louisiana is undefeated, and SCLSU is only shown to have one loss – it is fair to assume that the Bourbon Bowl is a bowl game with significant prestige, akin to the Rose Bowl or Sugar Bowl. However, the game is also clearly local to both University of Louisiana and SCLSU, as Bobby and his family are shown commuting to the game in a short period of time. The only bowl game of that significance within close range of Lafayette and Baton Rouge is the Sugar Bowl, which famously is held in New Orleans. Because the setting of the stadium is clearly not urban, I think it is fair to conclude that the Bourbon Bowl isn’t an exact stand-in for any one bowl game, but is a general amalgamation of the concept of a high-profile bowl game.
That said, there is another question worth asking about the Bourbon Bowl: is it a national championship game? The history of a “national championship” in college football is a bit odd and contentious – prior to the past few decades, it was often a very subjective title, awarded occasionally to different teams by different organizations in the absence of a decisive championship game. 1998, the year that The Waterboy was released, marked the first Bowl Championship Series National Championship Game, which arranged for the two highest-ranked teams to play in a decisive championship outing. The rankings, which were the subject of popular scrutiny and suspicion, utilized a handful of high-profile polls and computerized rankings to determine the contestants. A major downside to this system, however, is that there could easily be more than two teams with a strong case to participate in a national championship game – which ultimately gave rise to the playoff system that exists today.
We know that both the University of Louisiana and SCLSU had very strong records going into the Bourbon Bowl – U of L was undefeated, and SCLSU only had one loss. However, undefeated teams have been left out of national championships games – in 1998, for instance, an undefeated Tulane University football team was not selected for the game. Considering this fact in conjunction with the lack of national championship branding or discussion around the Bourbon Bowl indicates to me that University of Louisiana was passed over for the formal national championship game, which put them in position to claim a co-championship if they defeated SCLSU in the Bourbon Bowl. This exact scenario played out in the 2003 season, when an undefeated and widely-acclaimed University of Southern California squad was passed over for the championship game, and claimed co-champion status after subsequently winning their bowl game. However, a more apt comparison for the SCLSU – U of L Bourbon Bowl is the 1997 Rose Bowl match played between Arizona State University and Ohio State University. Going into the game, Arizona State was undefeated, and in position to claim a co-championship with a win over the one-loss Ohio State (as USC would do in 2004 with its Rose Bowl win over Michigan). However, Arizona State lost their game, just as University of Louisiana is shown losing to SCLSU, squandering their chance to claim a national championship. So, in effect, the Bourbon Bowl both was and was not a national championship game, depending on how you look at it.
At one point in the film, it is revealed that Bobby Boucher set a new NCAA record for sacks in a single game with 16. The actual record for sacks in a single game in NCAA Division I FBS is 6, which is co-held by Ameer Ismail of Western Michigan University and Elvis Dumervil of the University of Louisville. The idea of 16 sacks per game, considering the current NCAA record, may seem ludicrous. However, I decided to look into how many offensive plays occur per team in a typical DI college football game, which can be found here.
This graph was actually broken in 2016, when the University of California ran 118 offensive plays against the University of Oregon. However, the average offensive plays per team in a game has easily stayed between 60 and 80 over the past ten years. For the sake of calculation, let’s assume Bobby Boucher’s SCLSU opponents run 70 plays per game – this means roughly a quarter of their plays (22.85%) would need to conclude with Bobby Boucher sacks. However, that also assumes that Bobby earns all of his sacks on his own – sacks are also recorded in increments of .5 when multiple individuals contribute to the tackle. However, Bobby is never shown co-sacking a quarterback on screen, and it is frequently stated that he is the only capable athlete on the team, so it is safe to assume that Bobby is only accruing full sacks.
Another piece of dialogue states that Bobby’s sack rate actually increases after he sets the single game sack record at 16 – a team-mate mentions that he averages “20 sacks a game.” In order to reach that rate, we need to consider the length of a college football season. While this has changed over the years, most recently with the implementation of the playoff system in FBS, let’s say that a successful, bowl-appearance season has 13 games. Given his 16 sack performance in game one of the season, in order to reach the 20 sack/game average, Bobby would need to exceed 20 sacks at least once while maintaining a steady 20 sack/game rate throughout the season – a single 24 sack game would suffice to make the grade. Assuming this is how he reached his average sacks/game rate, this means that in at least one game of average offensive play quantity for the opposing team (70, for the sake of argument), Bobby would have sacked the quarterback on 34.3% of plays. While this seems incredibly unlikely, I don’t think it is anywhere near an impossibility – given a sufficiently incompetent offensive line and quarterback, there’s no reason to consider this feat technically impossible.
One of the most potent and vividly revolting illustrations in the film is the dichotomy between the amenities and conditions for the SCLSU and University of Louisiana football teams and athletics departments. SCLSU students are shown drinking out of a clearly unsafe water container, whereas U of L has a (assumedly) fully-funded water hydration station. Likewise, SCLSU football players frequently are shown sharing equipment – everything from helmets to sweaty cups.
While these disparities are definitely dramatized, there is certainly some truth to the portrayal. I recently spoke to an Associate Athletics Director at a small Division I football school, who told me about how different his current experience is to his previous role at an athletically-prestigious flagship institution – which included differences in pay, staffing, general amenities for students and staff, and, of course, the state-of-the-art facilities. The depiction in The Waterboy of the flagship institution having far more funds than a smaller, in-state competitor is, from what I have gathered, a fact of life in college athletics.
The SCLSU football coach, portrayed by Henry Winkler, is eventually revealed to have had a sort of burnout and breakdown after losing out on a coveted head coaching position to his rival on the University of Louisiana coaching staff. It is well-known that stress is part of the job of a college football coach – it isn’t even unheard of for coaches to suffer health issues associated with the job. So, the portrayal of a coach burning out certainly has some grounding in truth. Likewise, rivalries between coaches aren’t uncommon – many coaches serve on staffs together over the course of their careers, and later become opponents (like Nick Saban and Kirby Smart, for instance). The idea of a rivalry formed between coaches from a common history on a given staff certainly seems to hold water as a plausible scenario.
The first time Bobby is shown tackling a quarterback in practice, the aftermath is framed comedically, with the quarterback having apparently lost his immediate memory and general awareness. In truth, these are clear, immediate symptoms of a concussion. In 1998, when the film was released, research had not yet come out about the long-term dangers of concussions as a form of traumatic brain-injury, particularly for athletes in contact sports. Now, this is a major issue for both college football and most professional sports, and is speculated to be a potential existential threat to status quo of competitive athletics.
Throughout the events of The Waterboy, a number of off-color, homophobic comments are made by characters. While this is certainly in part due to the nature of this genre of crass comedy and the context of the film’s release, the truth is that this is probably an accurate portrayal of a college football team at this point in time. There is a wealth of literature and research on homophobia within athletics, and particularly collegiate athletics. College football, as a homogenously-male sport, is statistically even more likely to be more homophobic than women’s sports teams. So, it is certainly not a stretch for causally homophobic dialogue to fly around a college football locker room or practice field.
Though it is never specifically stated, it is highly suggested that Bobby Boucher is a first generation college student – meaning that he is the first member of his family to attend college. This is hinted through a number of sequences – for instance, he picks his classes solely based on the view of campus from the classrooms, as opposed to course difficulty or fit with his major. First generation college students often have difficultly navigating universities, due to a lack of institutional knowledge that is typically passed down from college graduates to their children.
Connected to the forgery revelation is a level of malicious espionage – the staff of the University of Louisiana expose the misdeed of SCLSU’s coach to the NCAA, in an attempt to harm the on-field production of the school’s football team in the upcoming Bourbon Bowl. The use of NCAA reporting as a means of attacking a sporting rival was recently a subject in the SBnation documentary series Foul Play: Paid in Mississippi, which features a member of the Mississippi State University football team testifying to recruiting violations at the rival University of Mississippi.
There are certainly plenty more higher education topics that can be discussed through The Waterboy – the physical assault of a professor by a student, the discipline exceptions offered to star student-athletes, and the parental pressures placed on many top-grade student-athletes to turn professional as early as possible are among them. However, I’m going to see if I can swing back to those topics in future reviews – I suspect I’ll be back to the realm of college football before too long.
Overall, The Waterboy is every bit the sophomoric, shallow comedy the world has come to expect from Adam Sandler. However, it is also an interesting, comedically-contorted portrayal of college football culture, which is integral to many institutions of higher education in the United States. There isn’t anything novel, witty, or innovative about the humor or story, and there is certainly much about the film that has become dated, but it is an interesting film to peruse for folks interested in college athletics and higher education as fields of study. Alternatively, those who find uproarious comedic value in a chorus of Henry Winklers tauntingly singing about the comparative benefits of Gatorade over water as a means of hydration will find something pleasing here.
Today, I’m going to take a look at one of the most divisive films of 2018: Life Itself.
The plot of Life Itself is summarized as follows:
As a young New York City couple goes from college romance to marriage and the birth of their first child, the unexpected twists of their journey create reverberations that echo over continents and through lifetimes.
Life Itself was written, directed, and produced by Dan Fogelman, who is best known for the television show This Is Us, as well as writing films like Cars, Last Vegas, Bolt, Tangled, and Cars 2.
The cast of Life Itself includes Oscar Isaac (Ex Machina), Mandy Patinkin (The Princess Bride, Criminal Minds), Olivia Wilde (House), Annette Bening (American Beauty), Antonio Banderas (Desperado), Samuel L. Jackson (Pulp Fiction), Olivia Cooke (Ready Player One, Ouija), and Laia Costa (Victoria).
The film was edited by Julie Monroe, who has cutting credits that include The Patriot, Midnight Special, Loving, Gigli, and World Trade Center, among others. The cinematography was provided by Brett Pawlak, who also shot the films Hellion, Max Steel, We Are Your Friends, The Meddler, and The Glass Castle.
The screenplay for Life Itself was named to the 2016 Black List, which is an annual honor given to a handful of unproduced screenplays deemed to be of high quality. The 2016 list also included The Post, I, Tonya, and Hotel Artemis, which have also been successfully produced.
Following the premiere of Life Itself as the 2018 Toronto International Film Festival, a bidding war ensued over the film’s distribution. Ultimately, Amazon bought the distribution rights for a grand total of $10 million. In it’s lifetime theatrical run, however, it only brought in $7.5 million worldwide.
Critically, the reception to Life Itself was deeply divided, with most critics deriding the film and many including it in the conversation as one of the worst films of the year, while casual audiences warmly received the work. On Rotten Tomatoes, the critics score is a dismal 13%, compared to an audience score of 78%. Likewise, Metacritic has the film at a 21/100, while IMDb’s user rating is a far more receptive 6.4/10.
There is a lot of [bad writing] here, and also…a lot of good acting. It is poignant and sometimes weirdly thrilling to watch Mr. Isaac, Ms. Wilde and the other cast members…commit with such fervor and seriousness to such utter balderdash.
My initial reaction to this film was almost identical – it is always kind of shocking to see good performers working with sub-par material, and making the most of it. However, I didn’t dislike this film nearly as viscerally and passionately as most critics. It definitely drifts into the realm of sentimental nonsense with reckless abandon, but I kind of expect that from a sappy drama with illusions of cleverness. While the rambling sequences dedicated to the eponymous dissertation did make me want to tear my hair out, I was able to get through most of the film with shrugs and mild sighs. It certainly relishes in depicting the misfortunes of women and children to an uncomfortable degree (I appreciate Slate‘s re-titling of the film to Terrible Things Keep Happening to Nice, Attractive People, Especially the Women). However, I think the performances, at least in the first half of the film, keep the whole mess watchable. In the later chapters, the quality of the performances drops off a bit, which made the film feel way longer than it was to me.
Overall, this film is certainly not great. For the most part it is merely unremarkable, with a smattering of cringe-worthy dialogue segments about faux-philosophical epiphanies. That said, I’m not sure if it is quite the worst of what 2018 had to offer, though. If the performances were a bit weaker, I think this would certainly earn a spot in the year’s basement. As it is, however, I think this is just another overwrought drama with delusions of grandeur that is best to be ignored. There isn’t anything here that couldn’t be better experienced with other films.
Today, I am continuing my Worst of 2018 coverage with the oddball puppet movie, The Happytime Murders.
The plot of The Happytime Murders is summarized on IMDb as follows:
When the puppet cast of a ’90s children’s TV show begin to get murdered one by one, a disgraced LAPD detective-turned-private eye puppet takes on the case.
The Happytime Murders was co-written by Todd Berger, who is perhaps best known for his bizarre dark comedy, It’s A Disaster.
The director for The Happytime Murders was Brian Henson, who previously directed Muppet Treasure Island and The Muppet Christmas Carol. Notably, he is the son of Jim Henson, beloved creator of The Muppets.
The cast for the movie includes Melissa McCarthy (Ghostbusters, The Heat, Spy, Tammy), Elizabeth Banks (The Hunger Games, Power Rangers), Maya Rudolph (Inherent Vice, Away We Go, Bridesmaids), Leslie David Baker (The Office), Joel McHale (Community, Ted), and Michael McDonald (MADtv).
The cinematographer for the film was Mitchell Amundsen, who also shot CHIPS, A Bad Moms Christmas, Odd Thomas, Jonah Hex, Now You See Me, Transformers, and Wanted.
The score for The Happytime Murders was composed by Christopher Lennertz, who also provided music for films like Pitch Perfect 3, Sausage Party, Uncle Drew, Baywatch, and Horrible Bosses.
Sesame Workshop filed a lawsuit against the production over the tag line “No Sesame. All Street.” claiming that it tarnished their reputation. The production company behind Happytime, STX, claimed that the advertising was clearly distinct from Sesame Street, and the suit was eventually thrown out. Afterwards, some TV spots for the film started with “From the studio that was sued by Sesame Street…”
When this film was announced, many noted the stylistic similarities to notable previous films, such as Peter Jackson’s vulgar puppet movie Meet the Feebles and the hit crossover animation / live action film noir, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?.
The Happytime Murders was a financial flop, bringing in only $20.7 million on a $40 million budget. Critically, it didn’t fare any better, as it currently holds a 5.3/10 IMDb user rating, along with Rotten Tomatoes scores of 23% from critics and 41% from audiences. Peter Travers of Rolling Stone went so far as to say that the film might be the worst of the decade, and numerous critics listed it among their worst films of 2018.
The biggest problem with Happytime, without any doubt, is that it is just not funny. The film tries to lean on the raw absurdity of featuring puppets in a lude plot, but there isn’t much mileage to get out of that. The film is almost entirely gross-out humor, with little in the way of thought or care put into the writing. The result is a shallow, uncompelling story laced with what might pass for humor at 2am to a thoroughly inebriated person with a deeply-buried puppet fetish.
What is odd about all of this is that Happytime boasts a really good cast of comedic performers. This is basically raw proof that performers, regardless of talent, can’t save underlying bad writing.
When it comes down to it, this film just shouldn’t have gotten the green light to start with. The very foundation of the premise was begging for failure. What I don’t understand is why anyone thought this would work, to the tune of $40 million. As a niche project by Adult Swim, I could maybe see something like this if the budget could be kept to a minimum. However, I just can’t imagine this even breaking even with the money put into it, and I don’t know why anyone thought it would. The best I can figure is that this was someone’s passion project (Henson?), who was well-connected and wealthy enough to make it happen regardless of criticisms. Regardless, it should go without saying that this film is an atrocious bore, and I can’t even lightly recommend it to the depraved – they almost certainly have better things to do than this.
Today, I’m kicking off my Worst of 2018 coverage with the divisive quasi-Marvel movie, Venom.
The plot of Venom is summarized on IMDb as follows:
When Eddie Brock acquires the powers of a symbiote, he will have to release his alter-ego “Venom” to save his life.
The screenplay for Venom was written by Jeff Pinkner (The Amazing Spider-Man 2, The Dark Tower, Jumanji: Welcome To The Jungle), Kelly Marcel (Saving Mr. Banks, Fifty Shades of Grey), and Scott Rosenberg (Kangaroo Jack, High Fidelity, Con Air, Disturbing Behavior)
Venom was directed by Ruben Fleischer, who previously directed the films Gangster Squad and Zombieland, as well as episodes of Santa Clarita Diet, Superstore, and Between Two Ferns with Zach Galifianakis.
Venom is based on a popular Marvel comics character of the same name that first appeared in The Amazing Spider-Man #300 in 1988. The character was created by Todd McFarlane and David Michelinie as a new, villainous form of the sentient black-and-white Spider-Man costume debuted in 1984. Since then, the character has gone through multiple incarnations, and oscillated between being a villain and anti-hero in various plot lines.
The cast of the film includes Tom Hardy (Mad Max: Fury Road, The Dark Knight Rises, Inception, Locke), Michelle Williams (Manchester By The Sea, All The Money In The World), Scott Haze (Midnight Special), Reid Scott (Veep), Jenny Slate (Obvious Child, Bored To Death, Zootopia), Riz Ahmed (Nightcrawler, Four Lions, The Sisters Brothers), and Woody Harrelson (Kingpin, True Detective, Seven Psychopaths, Zombieland, Rampart).
The cinematographer for Venom was Matthew Libatique, who has shot such acclaimed movies as Black Swan, A Star Is Born, Iron Man, Phone Booth, and Requiem For A Dream.
Venom employed the work of two editors: Maryann Brandon (Alias, Super 8, Passengers, Star Trek, How To Train Your Dragon) and Alan Baumgarten (The Lawnmower Man, American Hustle, Trumbo, Zombieland, Lifepod)
The film’s music was composed by Ludwig Göransson, who previously provided scores for Black Panther, Creed, Fruitvale Station, Death Wish, and Creed 2.
Venom had a lengthy, tumultuous production history. The film was originally envisioned as a spin-off from Sam Raimi’s widely-reviled Spider-Man 3. Shortly after the Spider-Man films were rebooted, however, the film was announced once again, though this time within the continuity of the rebooted series. Following the release of The Amazing Spider-Man 2, Sony announced that Venom would be a part of their Spider-Man Cinematic Universe. Following that film’s lackluster reception, however, Sony and Marvel decided to collaborate on another reboot of the Spider-Man films, which placed Venom in limbo once again. Ultimately, Venom was produced as a “tangent” to the Marvel Cinematic Universe, though the exact relationship of the character to Spider-Man and other Marvel properties has yet to be properly clarified.
The actors Alan Tudyk and Jackie Earl Haley were at one point considered for Woody Harrelson’s role as Cletus Kasady / Carnage.
Director Ruben Fleischer has stated that he wanted Venom to look tonally different from other contemporary comic book movies. According to him, he “wanted to make a darker, grittier, kind of edgier comic book movie that also has a strong horror element…Those were the aspects: darker, edgier, grittier.”
Before Riz Ahmed was ultimately cast as Carlton Drake / Riot, actors such as Matt Smith and Pedro Pascal were considered for the part.
The trailers to Venom met with uniquely negative reactions from fans. First, the initial trailer was criticized for lacking the iconic Venom suit. Additionally, many fans went up in arms over characters’ pronunciations of the word “symbiote,” which many felt was indicative of a lack of familiarity with the source material and history of the character.
Despite the reticent fan reaction to the trailers, Venom was a box office hit, taking in $855.5 million on a production budget of $100 million. However, the critical reception to Venom was mixed. While it earned decent marks from audiences, including a 6.8/10 IMDb user rating and Rotten Tomatoes audience score of 84%, it was frequently named on year-end “Worst of 2018” lists by critics, and earned a dismal 28% Rotten Tomatoes score from critics. Richard Roeper of the Chicago Sun-Times even referred to the film as “a tone-deaf, uneven and maddeningly dumb clunker,” echoing the critics’ consensus regarding the film’s awkward humor and tonal issues.
Speaking of which, it is hard not to take note of the odd moments of humor and attempted banter that pepper the film. While this is certainly reminiscent of the comic origins of the character, it doesn’t translate very well in this film – perhaps more adept hands could have pulled it off, like more comedic-experienced actors and sharper dialogue writing to boost them.
Tom Hardy’s performance in this film is perplexing. His line deliveries and accent are odd, but also evidently very specific and crafted. He clearly had inspirations for his performance, but they don’t necessarily feel appropriate for this character. Brock, thanks to Hardy’s performance, comes off as a bit of a prat-falling doofus, as opposed to the brooding and motivated reporter he was clearly written as. I’m not sure if this was necessarily miscasting per se, but I think the director should reigned Hardy in and given some guidance in a different direction.
A key problem I found with this film were the visuals – while they are certainly in line with the director’s stated vision, I found them to be a little bit too dark. This isn’t necessarily an issue in all cases, but for this movie, where a number of characters are amorphous black-colored CGI monsters, having a dark palette and general design often makes it difficult to tell what is happening on screen. If you ask me, the Venom costume at least needed some kind of more visible contrast (like the prominent white from the original comic design, residual from the Spider-Man suit).
My biggest issue with this film is something that is difficult to pinpoint – I just found the whole package to be a bit bland and uninspired. On top of the already outlined issues, the villain was unremarkable, the effects and stunts felt unspectacular, and the story and character relationships were both a bit lacking. Pretty much every element of the film was at least a wee bit sub-par, and the sum follows suit.
Overall, this film could have easily been much worse. It isn’t particularly good or a stand-out by any means among its comic book movie peers, but I’d certainly take this over Suicide Squad, Batman v. Superman, or the Ang Lee Hulk adaptation. Despite some iffy dialogue, Hardy’s odd performance, and the muddy visuals, it is a watchable enough flick. I’m not sure if I would recommend it to any but the most staunch of Venom fans, but it would be a bearable HBO watch if you were captive in a hotel room.
Howdy loyal followers! Now that 2018 is well into the dirt, I wanted to, once again, shine a spotlight on the publicly perceived worst films of the year.
Once again, I want to re-emphasize that this is a list I generated based on public perception, and not objective quality. I chose to measure this by compiling 15 currently published year-end “Worst of 2018” lists (from sources like The AV Club and Variety), then I tallied up how often each film appeared. It is a pretty simple and data-driven way to make this sort of list, and gives a rough idea of how widely despised individual films were.
Even more so than last year, there was very little consensus among the various rankings. Between the 15 lists I compiled entries from, 103 individual films received tallies. For the sake of brevity, I am only including the films that appeared most often in this post. However, as always, the full spreadsheet of films and sources is available here.
As with the past two years, there was no runaway “Worst Movie of 2018.” The two films with the most tallies were only on 10 of 15 lists (66.66%), which means that they were left off of an entire third of popular year-end lists. On top of that, there was a tight cluster of ties, with 18 movies earning enough tallies to crack the Top 5.