Guilty Pleasures: Vince Keenan

I know how these guilty pleasure posts are supposed to work. I make the argument that no pleasure should be considered guilty, then go on to name a movie that isn’t actually that terrible – and in fact underscores whatever meager badass credentials I have. I’m not doing that. My guilty pleasure is a movie that I know for a fact to be lousy, that I like in spite and in part because of that lousiness. It also features roller disco. Which, science has proven, is the least hardboiled activity known to man. My guilty pleasure is . (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0081777/) Judge away. Here’s more ammunition. I have watched Xanadu more than a dozen...

Guilty Pleasures: Steve Brewer

I like my cheese spicy with extra gunfire, so my choice for Guilty Pleasure would be “Desperado,” the 1995 hit with Antonio Banderas and Salma Hayek. The movie is the middle episode in the “El Mariachi” trilogy, directed by Robert Rodriguez. In the trilogy, a guitarist becomes a Mexican legend when vengeance turns him from strumming to shooting. The first film, called “El Mariachi” (1992), is a legend in its own right because Rodriguez made it for $7,000 (yes, you read that right) and it became a Sundance hit and launched his career. By the time he wrote and directed “Desperado,” he had...

Guilty Pleasures: Michael Lister

Guilt and Guts When Jeremy asked me to contribute an essay about a guilty pleasure, I was happy to do it, but afterwards, as I began to think about it, I realized I don’t really have any. Guilt, like shame and fear and envy and hate, is a negative, mostly useless emotion. I experience remorse when I realize I’ve been wrong (which is often) and do my best to take responsibility for it, repent, and attempt to rectify the situation. But I associate guilt with feelings produced by cultural and parental programming, voices of shame inside us that don’t lead to change, but only to continual condemnation. I’m in no way saying I never feel guilt. I...

Guilty Pleasures: Bill Crider

I’ve written twice on my blog about one of my favorite Guilty Pleasures, and I’m happy to be able to write about it again here. It’s a movie called The Good Humor Man, and it stars Jack Carson and Lola Albright. I saw it first when I was eight or nine years old, which was the perfect age for it.. Jack Carson sells ice cream, and he’s the only alleged adult who’s a member of a secret kids’ club devoted to Captain Marvel. He’s a lot like a kid himself, and that’s a problem. He’s happy selling ice cream, but he needs more money if he’s going to marry Albright, who’s the sole support of her kid brother. Albright works for George Reeves...

Guilty Pleasures: Scott Phillips

Guilty isn’t really a word I much associate with the movies. (Music is  another story. I have CDs of artists I liked when I was an adolescent that I don’t even let my wife know about.) Maybe porn would have  qualified once, but even that doesn’t inspire guilt any more. So the  closest I can come to a cinematic guilty pleasure is something that I  know isn’t very good, that fails on its own terms, but that I love  anyway. Here are two such movies, each from a different part of   Universal’s mid-century Horror cycle: “Frankenstein meets the  Wolfman” (1943, directed by Roy William Neill and written by...

Guilty Pleasures: Last Minute bit o’ Lynch E...

Once I started to ponder this undertaking, I found myself torn between a number of films. I could pick a film that is actually pretty good, but the content is a tad embarrassing for me to admit to liking. I could pick a turkey of a film that is the sort of oddball flick that is entertaining or I could pick a mediorce film that…well, it mediocre. I am taking the latter. PCU In the tradition of ANIMAL HOUSE (But not as good), PCU features a group of underachieving outcasts that rub the authority figures the wrong way. President Garcia-Thompson: You passed out cigarettes for a smoke-a-thon on Earth Day. You installed speed bumps on the...