Just Off Center

There was a scene at the end of the Dustin Hoffman classic Little Big Man in which Hoffman, playing Jack Crab, is approached by General Custer to ascertain the strength of numbers of the Indians down the hill they were approaching. Custer's plan was simple. He believed that Crab would never want to risk his people being slaughtered, but would try and lead Custer to ruin. So Custer concluded that whatever Hoffman's answer was, Custer would presume the exact opposite was true. Jack Crab knew this was happening so he simply told the truth. Custer gave the order to proceed and was summarily wiped out.

Custer was an arrogant fool by most accounts, but the logic was a strong one. When someone has displayed time and time again that their advice will lead you to a result that is opposite to the desired one, you can then begin to trust their advice by following the opposite of it. My coworker Carl is one of these people. In his case the advice is on the subject of movies.

I consider myself something of an amateur movie buff. That is to say that I'd like to think that I have discerning tastes. My favorite film is Kubric's Dr. Strangelove. And I am very proud of the fact that to this date I have never seen (and will never see) Top Gun, at least not more than twenty or so minutes of it. But Carl is the antithesis of all I believe in when it comes to the critique of cinema. My first encounter with this was not too long ago when I had returned from seeing The Matrix: Revolutions. I'll not waste one more byte talking about this...film. But the next day when I was still reeling over my loss of love of this once awesome story, Carl chimed in with "I thought it was fucking great. You must not have understood it." Yes that's it, Carl. I simply lack the cognitive ability to understand that the machines drilled a big hole and then struck a deal with Neo.

But then the reviews started pouring in of "great" films that Carl wanted me to see. Each one worse than the one before. Let me put it this way: If Jerry Bruckheimer ever made a movie where an angry, misunderstood black man punches his deadbeat dad while getting a blowjob from a spunky girl of undetemined origen then jumps in a sports car and races a gang of killer aliens to the top of a giant tittie just before it explodes, destroying all life on Earth, Carl might just come to work the next day crying. And what's worse is every film I see that I recommend is met with the same kind of apathy. After telling him how much I hated whatever turd he was raving out a few months ago he decided to throw an insult my way.

"I bet you're the kind of guy that gave Amadeus five stars"

Yes, actually I would have. And I understand that the only thing that would have improved the movie for you was if at the end Antonio Salieri suddenly burned the requiem sheet music, pulled Mozart's heart out with a pair of tongs, raped his wife, and took his son away to teach him the ninja arts and gangsta rap. What kind of dis is this? Why not just say "I bet you're the kind of guy who read books as a kid."

He came up to my dry erase board today and wrote the letters "A.V.P." on it. I assume he was referring to the new release panned the world throughout, Alien vs Predator. Now I loved Predator. I consider it a horror classic and I'll watch it every time it comes on. And the idea of AVP has been a long time coming. But I've read the reviews and I've seen the trailers. This one might not even make it into my Netflix queue.

And no matter how bad the movie is, if it has a flash of tits, it's an instant hit. Don't get me wrong, I love gratuitous nudity in movies. I love that women are still so desparate for the opportunity to get some attention that they'll take their clothes off and give a faux blowjob because the director tells her it's art. But even the best bush won't heal a movie as bad as Anger Management.

So lately, whenever Carl tells me about a new movie he just shelled out two hours pay to see and how much ass it kicked, I can instantly take the path of Custer and go the other way. And I won't have to worry about suffering through any intolerable shit like Haunted Mansion or Sorority Boys. Hell, if I had attended a paid viewing of one of these bombs I might have gone home and scalped myself.