It was a Sunday night. I was exhausted and on my second glass of wine and that’s probably why I didn’t protest when someone suggested putting on a movie starring Gerald Butler, Jamie Fox and the worst plot ever imagined.
I knew this film would suck. I could just tell by looking at the DVD cover. Also, I remembered critics panning it months back. Two strikes. But like I said: wine and exhaustion. So someone slipped it into the TV and we all sat back to watch what turned out to be exactly the kind of lame, violent, stupidly plotted movie I thought it would.
What frustrated me about this film wasn’t the acting, or the surprise violence (I’d like to be warned before a bullet makes a person’s head explode, thank you very much), it was the fact that it even got made in the first place.
As freshly minted writers, every opportunity that comes our way is always packaged in a “this is your one chance so don’t screw it up” kind of way. We work our asses off writing, rewriting, swallowing mind-numbing critique and even giving up scenes we’d practically date if given the chance. We run mental triathlons because, well, our art has to be perfect – or no one’s going to give it a second thought.
So we beat ourselves up to create this expressive masterpiece, and then someone brings over a DVD that’s so full of every writing Don’t it makes our mouths hang open in disbelief. How the hell does something like this get made?! It’s awful. Don’t tell me this was someone’s magnum opus. It’s impossible. The only way this makes sense is if a bunch of big execs came up with it in the back of a party van on the way to a strip club. Read more »







Some lawyers have canceled a Harry Potter-themed dinner for children.







