The Worst Films I Saw in 2010

Generally speaking, Worst-of Lists are a horrible idea, a small bit of vengence on the part of an angry writer or critic who, for whatever reason, saved a joke or two about Sex and the City 2. I suppose the reason I feel like doing a Worst of 2010 list is pretty simple: Wandering through the internet, there were a hell of a lot of posts about how this year was the worst in some time. That's objective, but maybe there's something to that--2010 at times felt like a forgotten year. Beyond towering sequels and a stand-out original summer blockbuster, most of the movies that came out this summer felt like fat trimmed from 2008 and 2009. The A-Team, Clash of the Titans, Prince of Persia--these wouldn't have survived a season stocked with the likes of The Dark Knight, Star Trek or (*sigh*) Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen. Speaking of Star Trek, the money spent on promoting that movie forced Paramount to move Shutter Island to the early 2010 dead zone--a Martin Scorcesse movie was bumped from its slotted release date so a bunch of 20-somethings could pal around with Spock.

Here's the thing though--2010 wasn't really that bad. Yes, it was heavy on the action throwbacks (the surprisingly pleasant Salt and Unstoppable), kinda-schmaltzy redemption story dramas (The Fighter, which was very good; Secretariat, which was pretty good; and Stone, which might not have been a redemption story at all), and more than a year's worth of awful romantic comedies (Going the Distance, Valentine's Day, Life As We Know It, The Bounty Hunter, etc.), but that doesn't make it awful in comparison to the last few years. Middling, maybe, but not awful. I saw just north of 50 films last year, and this handful are so bad that I wouldn't watch them again if the director bought me a nice dinner to make it up to me. It's not such a big list. Certainly not befitting the Worst Year in Film of All Time.

Alice in Wonderland (Dir. Tim Burton)

A two-pronged assault on the eyes and the intellect. Alice doesn't want to marry some boorish snob and finds herself back in Wonderland, where the Mad Hatter and the Cheshire Cat talk in coded references to nothing, the Dormouse is a cagy revolutionary and everybody watches as what was vibrant and original about both the original book and the animated movie swirl 'round the drain, ready for the garish, ready-for-Hot-Topic afterbirth of Tim Burton's imagination. Instead of going on a journey where she discovers herself an autonomous being, Alice learns little but that she should fall somewhere between the waifishness of the White Queen and the abrasiveness of the Red. This means becoming an action figure--an empty vessel upon which the dull can impress their slight fantasies. Yes, she slays the dragon, but the stakes are so low (and the visuals so muddied) that the rabbit hole may as well have gone uncovered and all Alice's problems solved over tea.

Bitch Slap (Dir. Rick Jacobson): Read the Review

Considering its budget, Bitch Slap probably had better special effects than Alice in Wonderland. This was a big year for grindhouse movies, what with Machete, Piranha 3D, and the release of Grindhouse on blu-ray, and Bitch Slap tries to be a smaller scale version of those movies, but it takes a wrong turn at late-night Cinemax softcore porn and never finds its way back. When it comes to gimmickry, having buckets of water laying around the desert so your cast can spill them all over each other is maybe the worst since the paddleball expert appeared in a 3D movie.

Cop Out (Dir. Kevin Smith)

I would have killed for this to be an underrated, Last Action Hero style send-up of genre convention. Instead, Cop Out was a movie so bad that Kevin Smith had a public meltdown about critics seeing movies like this one for free. Here's the thing though: All the silence in the world wouldn't have saved this from being a bomb.

Actually, Cop Out might be my favorite film going experience of the year. My mom and I were taking a break from family related stuff in Abingdon, a small town in Virginia with an independently-owned multiplex (which happens to have one hell of a soundsystem). The two of us have seen plenty of movies there--usually alone. Cop Out was no different. We walked up to the counter and asked for our tickets.

"We weren't even going to start that one up," the cashier said. "Nobody's come to see it in days."

"Should we?" my mom asked.

"I haven't seen it myself," the cashier replied, turning to pour us a gigantic Coke, "but it's kinda slow here, so I guess it could be."

"What are our other options?" mom asked, turning to me.

"Alice in Wonderland," I told her, groaning. "Failing that, we could see Percy Jackson again."

"Cop Out it is," my mom said.

"TURN ON THEATRE SEVEN!" the cashier cried, giving us our food and our tickets.

We walked to theatre seven in silence, like two people approaching the firing squad, and watched in horror as Tracy Morgan stumbled his way through one of the movie posters in the background on 30 Rock.

Sex and the City 2 (Dir. Michael Patrick King): Read the Review

 Some people's nightmares involve clowns or dentists. My nightmares are simpler: Sarah Jessica Parker's Dior tutu, or Kim Cattrall grabbing my junk in public and exclaiming "Lawrence of my labia!" It was months before I could look at yams or think about humus without dying inside.

The Last Airbender (Dir. M. Night Shyamalan): Read the Review

Unlike The Happening, Lady in the Water and The Village, Shyamalan's adaptation of the Nickelodeon cartoon isn't even interesting to watch as an indication of the once promising director's professional downfall. Shyamalan has been making garbage films for some time now, but the difference between this and his work since Signs is that all previous garbage has at least been nuanced. This is lifeless stuff; the only thing that remains to be seen is if this is Shyamalan calling for a retreat or him raising the white flag and surrendering.