Tuesday, January 22, 2013

I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass. And I'm all out of bubblegum.

Pop quiz, hot shot: you stumble upon a pair of sunglasses that, like a forgotten episode of The Outer Limits, allows you to see the subliminal messages and disguised aliens of an Earth invasion. What do you do? If you answered beat the shit out of your best friend and shoot up a bank, you would be absolutely right. 

Sometimes you just have to ask yourself: What would JC do?

I once said on this blog John Carpenter is the only movie director whose work I can enjoy on a completely mindless level. This did not mean that the majority of his works require you to leave your brain at home (unless you're talking about The Ward, maybe). I was simply trying to justify the fact that any other director in the world couldn't have sneaked Ghosts of Mars or Escape from L.A. past me on style alone. Carpenter did. I fucking love those movies. I don't care if what I say about those films seems at odds with what I say about other films. If other bloggers my age can swoon over Ninja Turtles and Transformers just because it was integral to their childhoods, then damn it, I can do the same with JC movies. Because let's face it—even when I was a kid I didn't get up early enough to watch action figure cartoons.
 
John Carpenter's movies are the only form of art so ingrained into my nostalgia that I can't hold it to the standards by which I judge absolutely everything else. A JC movie to me is as comfortable and recognizable as riding a bike or the crunch of snow underfoot. I still own the VHS of They Live that I've owned for as long as I can remember. 

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