Hello to all those faithfully reading and hopefully enjoying this effort to make even the worst horror movie more watcha... aw, screw that - I'm not that good. If a movie makes you cringe because yet another batch of unlikable teens that are pushing 30 are inching toward their deaths, having a party no one does anywhere ever, a paranormal movie is boring you to tears with unending pans of empty rooms, or thanks to CGI technology when people finally bite it, their blood squirts everywhere except on the victim, the ground, the people next to them... you're in good company and this is the right place for you.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Movies So Bad They Make You Say 
"What In The Blazes Did I Just Watch?"


The Traveller (2010)

This movie could just as well have gone under Brainless With A Splash Of Duh, Movies You Watch Because Of Whose In Them, or What The Hell Happened To You (don't know if that last one has been used yet) because this movie was horrible on so many levels it was hard to pick just one bad title for it. For instance, no one seems to agree on how to spell the damn thing. It's either traveler or traveller, depending on which country you're from (Britain likes to put double consonants in their words) I guess but looking at different descriptions and reviews, no one seems to want to stick to one or the other. Plus the tag line 'Nobody Will Survive' must be aimed at the audience, 'cause in the film that's not true.


Now on to Val Kilmer. What the hell happened to you man? From the fresh faced kid in Real Genius (1985) to the tough but gorgeous Iceman in Top Gun (1986) to a still cute but getting older guy in Willow (1988) to, as Homer Simpson said 'My favorite Door' in The Doors (1991) he was still going strong. He got married, dumped her after she had his kid (kind of a buzz kill as far as fancrushing went) and things seemed to go (except for Batman) a bit south from there. Now aging is something no one can stop but there are those who do it well and those who... look like they've crawled out of an airplane crash or something. Seriously.

This movie doesn't help. His main job in this movie is to wear a black trench coat, long greasy hair, show every pore in his face (there's products for that dude), whistle Mozart's Lacrimosa (badly), and stare off into space... and that's about it. Tough job.

This massive duh of a movie centers on Detective Black, whose young daughter Mary was abducted and murdered (which we get to see in countless flashbacks that he couldn't possibly know about much less be able to see). The precinct he works with (massive dump) helped him when he found a derelict who was seen in the area and all proceed to 'work him over' despite his constant protests of innocence. They eventually mess him up so bad he lapses into a coma. They then find out that the state police had caught and killed the one who DID kill his kid. Whoops.

So, on Christmas Eve in some undisclosed year the same employees happen to be on duty. In walks Kilmer who tells the front desk he wants to confess to a murder - actually six of them. He's processed and put in a cell, where he starts that awful whistling which also travels through the whole damn movie.

Ask him his name - Nobody. He has no prints. His mugshots show no face. He seems to be everywhere and nowhere. Now this type of scenario was done (and done WAAAAAY better) in the movie Inkubus with Robert Englund. That boy is scary, Freddy makeup or not. Anywho, Nobody begins his 'confessions'. After each confession done in semi-poem style (not well) a cop dies. They figure that he showed up the precise moment that their comatose derelict took his final breath. Ah, a movie about retribution to those who wrongly took his life, got it. Still have to go through all these cops though, and it takes forever. The deaths mimic what they did to the derelict. Not very imaginative and certainly not interesting.

Finally we're down to Nobody and Black. Nobody, before he makes his final confession has something to tell Black - he IS the bastard who snatched and killed his little girl. The state cops killed the wrong guy. Then why did we go through this damn movie? In movie nonsense style, his evil and hate was soooo strong that the year or so he was in a coma he dreamed of nothing but vengeance against those who did this to him. What? You're guilty but you think you deserve vengeance? To avoid the 'confession' and inevitable death, the detective stabs his eardrums with a pen (Yeouch!) and hides under his desk like a little girl. Well, speaking of little girls, there's his dead girl, talking to him (he can hear her apparently) telling him how to vanquish the stranger. Now I'm going to make you sooo glad you didn't have to see this movie. HE IS AFRAID OF HIS NAME. That's right, this is a freaking Rumplestiltskin movie. I mean what the hell? So the (deaf) detective stands up, repeats his name Stanley Harpendon (woof, no wonder he hated it) and shoots him, making him fall out a window. He's dead for good this time.

Did we learn anything valuable? No. Did we enjoy watching Val Kilmer act totally bored for 91 minutes? No. Did justice win? No. Was there any reason on earth to make this movie in the first place? No.

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