The Netflix Fairy brought us Alone in the Dark. I read the sleeve and couldn’t figure out what could possibly have compelled me to put this in our queue. Christian Slater, Tara Reid and Stephen Dorff do make an appealing trifecta of uber-badness, but that couldn’t have been the reason.
OK, there’s pop culture archaeology, too. That’s impressive, but not enough. If I get well enough to return to teaching pop culture and archaeology, I can’t imagine assigning anything with quite this much running and screaming.
It’s not the running and screaming that’s the problem. It’s how unconvincing it is. To be fair, my voice-over work only ever involved screaming. Maybe I’d be terrible at running and screaming, too. If someone would like to pay me a lot of money, I’d be happy to test this out.
Anyway.
Husband finally remembered why we wanted to see it: it’s directed by Uwe Boll. And it’s widely regarded to be his worst movie of all time.
Uwe Boll’s worst movie of all time.
Uwe Boll. The man who brought us BloodRayne. Holy crap, is BloodRayne a bad movie. That’s the the movie that one critic regarded as “not as bad as getting your eyelid caught on a nail.” The movie that did this to me.
I can’t wait.