Man and myth
I like bad movies. It’s my “thing.” Ask any of my friends about my taste in movies, and they’ll inevitably roll their eyes and mutter something about”The Mummy Returns” (which I saw 3 times in the theater AND now own.)
I don’t go to the movies to think, I go to be entertained and forget about everything for 112 minutes. If I want to think, I’ll stay at home and not shell out the money for a baby sitter.
So I went to “Clash of the Titans” yesterday with a fair amount of anticipation. I’m old enough to remember the first one with glee. It was awful, even I knew that, but hey, Laurence Olivier as Zeus! I nearly had a coronary when I found out they were remaking it, and got more hyped up with each trailer. Keep in mind that I DO NOT HAVE HIGH EXPECTATIONS WHEN IT COMES TO MOVIES. All I really need is 1. handsome leading man, 2.helicopter or monsters, 3. guns, though a sword will do in a pinch and 4. god-awful editing that makes you dizzy.
As mentioned before, I like bad movies. I can put up with a lot. But what I cannot abide is when Hollywood fucks up mythology. Getting a fucking copy of Bullfinch’s! It’s not rocket science people. You don’t get to change a couple of thousand years of tradition because you think it would make a better story. Oh, and here’s a surprise for you: it didn’t. It would have been a much better story if you’d stuck to the actual myth. It’s not like it was going to be great movie anyway. Did you really think Ralph Fiennes was going to get an Oscar nomination? Hardly.
In the breakroom at work we were talking about movies and V mentioned she’d seen it, and I chimed in. R snarkily said, “Let me guess..you thought the book was better…because you actually READ the book.”
Yes. And the book was better!