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Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery
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HAIRSHIRT Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery |
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Monday, July 18, 2005A Word About Movie Violence
While scanning the AP stories on Salon today, I came across the story of a movie-goer who had his nose bitten off during an argument over the quality of a film.
I realize that the general reaction to this story will be disbelief. People around the world are going to say, "This is simply ridiculous; how could someone overreact to this degree?" I beg to differ. I know that, personally, I have come out of several movies in the last few years feeling quite capable of disfiguring someone. When I walked out of the theater after a showing of The Life of David Gale a couple of years ago, I rabbit punched an usher. I was just so incredibly pissed that someone could waste Laura Linney and Kevin Spacey to that degree that I had to find a release for my violence. I went to see Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and was so enraged at how badly it sucked that I had to leave half-way through and scald two orphans with boiling vegetable soup. Sure, I suppose I could have just "let it go", as those peace-loving hippie therapists the parole board makes me see keep suggesting, but I don't believe in bottling up my emotions. Think I'm being too sensitive to incompetent film-making? Bullshit. Do a little test on yourself: watch Lethal Weapon 4 and just see if you don't get an urge to stuff a hand grenade down someone's shorts. There are some movies that are just so completely unwatchable that it cries out for violence. Now, I haven't seen Sin City, the movie that caused this nose-biting-off incident. Having some knowledge of Robert Rodriguez movies, I know that he's capable of making films both excellent and turd-smokingly awful. There very well may have been justification for a low-tech rhinoplasty. I want to make clear that I'm not saying the world should be this way. I'd much rather leave a movie holding hands with strangers and singing Kumbaya. But until Hollywood stops cranking out the kind of shit I've seen flushing through multiplexes this summer--Bewitched, I'm looking at you--I'm predicting that we'll see a whole lot more of this sort of thing. You might want to bring some brass knuckles or nunchaku along if you plan on seeing Deuce Bigelow: European Gigolo next month.
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