Ten reasons why being a professional film critic is not all artistry and auteurs. Mostly, it's derivative dung.
This is no longer a fair fight. Ever since Hollywood discovered that it could make an incredibly quick and very fast buck off the backs of gullible parents, their brainwashed offspring, and the various legions of fright fans and horror buffs, crafting a year-end worsts list has become a bit like shooting film fish in a barrel. Every week, another possible entry comes to the fore, something a studio is pawning off as family fun (Alvin and the Chipmunks 3: Chipwrecked) or the latest in unbridled fear (The Rite). Of course, other callous categories come into play as well. The comedy is no longer a guaranteed ribtickler - just ask The Dilemma, The Change-Up, or The Sitter while the thriller has to put up with stupidity like Trespass and Abduction to get some minor box office love. Indeed, while the year’s best often traverse many cinematic categories, the abominations tend to come from a certain set of styles.
Looking over our list for 2011, four are aimed at children, while another three appeal to the macabre maven in all of us. One is perhaps the most misguided comedy in a very long time, while two appear born from the same sour literary hit. Of course, if we pulled out the lists from Spring and Summer, we could have added the terrible Big Momma trequel, the callous Country Strong, the pathetic penguins of Mr. Popper, or the deadly dramatics of One Day (a truly awful experience). Sure, if you skirt the fringes, you can find any number of nauseating and miserable indie efforts, movies made for the people participating - and no one else. Still, we will stick to the mainstream and let Hollywood prove its hackdom over and over again. After all, no one does terrible better than Tinseltown, as these ten exasperating examples prove, beginning with a talking animal film that should just shut the Hell up: