Sometimes, the only thing better than a great movie is a shitty one. If the stars align, and it's the right kind of awful, a really bad movie can be a really good time. Even better, is when you realize that the person sitting next to you
feels the exact same way about the flick
. Especially when it's someone close. As my wife and I settled into our latest (and last?) Redbox offering, there was magic in the room. No one was secretly gutting one out, nobody took one for the team. We loved this movie. Wait, let me clarify. We loved
hating this movie.
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| You know shit when you find shit, too. |
I actually think I loved
Safe Haven. Really, no bullshit. It lets you know how bad it is probably
thirty seconds in, and it doesn't
ever let up. It remains laughably absurd the entire time and actually ends with a record-setting level of ridiculousness. Our son wasn't home, so I was able to immediately burst into the out-loud version of the
Are you f--king kidding me? routine I usually just keep hidden behind my rolling eyes. And shockingly, and perfectly, Mrs. Two Dollar Cinema was right there with me.
Domestic violence. Losing a spouse to cancer. Children in peril. Alcoholism. Murder. None of these topics
should be hilarious, but in the deft hands of director Lasse Hallstrom and this silly script, even life's most gut-wrenching moments translate to comedic gold. The melodrama is so thick, the acting so forced, and each allegedly tender moment so incredibly contrived,
Safe Haven is remarkably terrible. It's as if M. Night Shyamalan directed the longest tampon commercial ever. That description is so good, they probably should have put it on the poster. Just sayin...
