Through the magic of cable TV we have been able to catch up with a bunch of noteworthy, somewhat recent films we had no desire to see in a movie theatre. (The last time we made that particular trek was to see The Simpsons Movie. Enjoyed it, by the way.)
Boy, are we ecstatic we saved that admission price: viewing the lame, desultory, pointless likes of Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Hamlet 2, The Promotion, Superbad, Tropic Thunder, and The Rocker--the latter wasn't too bad, especially the soundtrack--does not elevate our faith in the current purveyors of comedy cinema. That's quite a few hours down the drain, people. Ugh.
(By the way, the last good movie we saw of any genre--aside from
the aforementioned quite agreeable big screen debut of the first family of imaginary Springfield--was the incredible Children of Men.)
We do not envy film critics. Theirs is a thankless job. We sat through a half a dozen clunkers and emerged distraught; what if we had to watch these kinds of crappy movies every single day as they do? Suicide would be oh so welcome.