I'm sorry, what?

I'm sleepy and tired today. I'll try to string some words together in a coherent fashion.

Finally, about those "bad movies" I watched: Neither were excruciatingly bad after all.

"A Sound of Thunder" benefited from low expectations. I was thinking it'd look something like a Sci Fi Pictures Original, which mostly offer so-so effects and scripts. Compared to a made-for-TV movie, it was fun enough. If I'd gone to an actual theater I may have been shocked by its badness, and on a big screen Ben Kingsley's white hair and sometimes orange complexion may have been eye-damaging. So I'm glad I saw it in my living room.

My absolute favorite part, which was laugh-out-loud funny in the way that, for a while at least, prompts your laugh mechanism again whenever you think about it, is when Edward Burns, who's driving with a couple/few other people in the car, sees this flying animal of significant size flying toward the car and yells something like, "Watch out!" Um, because he's the one driving. You watch out, buddy.

I actually would recommend this film to people with low expectations and a sense of humor about bad movies. The movie is not boring, and the writing isn't as bad as your average ABC Family original film.

As for "2001: A Space Odyssey," I can say that I definitely appreciated aspects of it, like the use of sound and music to create a mood. I liked having long sections with no dialogue (though I still didn't find 15 minutes of ape people necessary), the music, the visuals, lots of things. It did feel really tiring, and I don't see how anyone is supposed to get what it all actually means solely from viewing the film. I read some about the story online and NOW I understand the absurd business at the end, among other things. They should distribute little summaries with the DVDs. I guess there was talk about it back in the day, and the revolutionariness of ... what? the special effects? the something else? got a lot of attention.

Not that people shouldn't take it for what they want to. But a little help can liberate the viewer to appreciating and exploring what all the abstract "I'm sorry, what?" moments mean, rather than squashing deep thinking about it all. The obscure parts can be harder to appreciate without any guidance.

I've thought in the past that if I had a time machine, I'd like to go back and watch "The Empire Strikes Back" with an audience full of people who don't know Darth Vader is Luke's father. I'd also like to go back and see the reactions of everyday people to "2001." Were the visuals and more commonly interesting bits enough to keep them interested, or did people walk out during the intermission never to return? Did they stare at the screen at the beginning thinking, "Weren't there supposed to be spaceships?" Just wondering.

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They could play siblings:
Joel Gretsch and Colin Ferguson