The Five Stages of Cinematic Recovery

The Day After Tomorrow is the best-case scenario for how long the hangover from the worst film of the summer might last. I could go on and on about the specifics of how the story was poorly constructed, the script horribly written, the acting wooden, and the SFX overdone. However, it is my belief that I can do more of a service to my fellow filmgoers by discussing what I have spent days wading through, something I term The Five Stages of Emotional Cinematic Recovery.

Now I realize that we are all different. We all have different family, different jobs, different strengths, and different weaknesses. Despite all these differences, there are a number of very common emotional stages that I can assume viewers of “The Day After Tomorrow” will experience. As I have made my way through this journey, I hope that many can learn from my experiences. They are:

Confusion
The first phase that I see people going through is confusion. This can last minutes or, as far as I can tell, may last with you until the end of time, or at least any time you turn on cable and see a rerun of the worst film money can buy. The film is quite absurd, poorly acted, and very loud, all of which leads to a state of bewilderment that is somewhat common.

Having experienced the flick, I found that I exited the theatre somewhat dazed, but then was able to regain my senses quick enough to discuss what had occurred with my fellow filmgoers. This feeling I held inside was eerily reminiscent of a time when I had been in a car accident and was quickly able to aid the other people in my car in getting to safety, but soon afterwards succumbed to shock and passed out in a pricker bush. While I did not receive medical attention after viewing the film, as I did after the car accident, I certainly felt as if each was warranted equally. Unfortunately with insurance premiums as they are, I am certain that hospitals nationwide would refuse to treat symptoms of post traumatic “Day After Tomorrow” syndrome, as they would be too widespread to deal with.

This shock may take a while to subside, but people eventually do come out of it.

Denial
The next emotional phase that I see people typically go through is denial. The audience member often says, "There's nothing wrong with shelling out $12 bucks for a piece of crap like this. It’s a summer movie, that’s what they are all like.”

This can be dangerous for several reasons. For example, you’ve watched the film, experienced confusion, and then gone home. Suddenly, you’re having difficulties. You’ve attained an irrational belief that Dennis Quaid’s performance was ‘understated,’ rather than ‘poor’ or ‘wretched.’ Or you attempt to justify absurdities like an Instant Freeze storm that is fought off by a Wendy’s grill. Your friends may say, "You seem different." But the head-injured viewer of the film says "No, there's nothing wrong with me."

When someone is in denial, you must give consistent feedback that everything is not "okay." Generally, very direct feedback is necessary. However, some people get really angry when they're constantly being told "This movie sucked ass". I often find that distraction, such as changing the topic of conversation, is better than getting into long-winded or violent arguments. For example, the head-injured person may want to see the film again when it's clearly not safe to do so. Instead of arguing, it might be better to say, "Rotten Tomatoes has stated that it is unadvisable to see this movie once, let alone twice," and move on with the conversation.

There are two types of denial. The first type of denial is an emotional one. Something has happened that is so terrible, or so frightening that viewers just don't want to deal with it. The second type of denial comes from changes to the brain. The brain literally refuses to process certain types of information. For example, there is one type of injury to the brain where the patient cannot receive visual information on the left side. In cases like this, some viewers may actually confuse “The Day After Tomorrow” for a good disaster film, like “Titanic.” People like this cannot be saved, so let them suffer in this abomination and just move on. People like this define Darwin’s Theory of Evolution.

Anger and Depression
Denial is a very common problem, but eventually it breaks down. This leads to the next phase, in which the person has a limited awareness of the damaged state of mind, beginning what I call the depression/anger phase. When you realize you have been duped and mistreated, you may become angry or depressed. In many ways, anger and depression share a lot in common. Some people think of depression as anger at oneself, a kind of anger turned inward. A lot of people who see this film and are depressed will say to themselves, "I'm a failure. I can't pick movies anymore. I really thought that this would be good." On the other hand, people who are struggling to deal with the vast changes produced by viewing this monstrosity may get angry at people around them. They may see people as not being supportive of them or not understanding how one may be tricked into seeing an action film on this scale by impressive trailers and scenes of mass destruction.

Sometimes people unreasonably blame themselves--"If I had only seen Man on Fire or Troy, I wouldn't be in this mess." There was no way of knowing that this would happen. When we have difficulty dealing with overwhelming situations, we often go back and blame ourselves. That's a very common reaction. Many religious people become angry at God--Why would God want me to suffer though this mess? They may question their faith, or wonder why God is so vindictive. Just about everybody goes through this cycling pattern, becoming depressed or angry. This can go back and forth; some people never move on to the next phase.

Testing Phase
The next phase almost always follows after a period of recovery and improvement in thinking abilities. When people eventually realize they are improving, they go through the testing phase. Basically, they test themselves to see their limits. To some degree, there's a little bit of denial in this. The person feels, "I'm really close to seeing another film, so I'll just act the way I was and just pick the big movie of the week. I’ll see Harry Potter." Often times the film-injured person backs out of seeing the flick at the last moment and says, "Why can't things be the way they used to?" This a very painful stage, but must be overcome by courage and determination. Not all films will be as bad as “The Day After Tomorrow.” “Harry Potter” indeed looks very promising. One must understand this and not second-guess themselves because of one tragic cinematic experience.

Acceptance
The next phase is what I call acceptance. This is when viewers learn where they stand and what their limits are. They've learned that all films will not be as painful, moronic, obtuse, absurd, and annoying as “The Day After Tomorrow.” They will come to trust that actors make bad decisions from time to time, but that they can be trusted to win us over again in different roles. They will understand that while they do not have to be happy that they spent a ridiculous amount of money to see a bad film, they can take solace in the fact that money into the industry will inevitably filter down to deserving people eventually.

Conclusion
So here I am, days later, having accepted that I saw without a doubt the worst film of the summer, and perhaps of the 21st Century to date. I know that I played a role in my behavior, having allowed myself to be tricked by a trailer filled with awe -inspiring imagery, but absolutely no dialogue*. (*Note to self, pay attention to that in future trailers)

The worst film of the year has passed. For those who have seen it, please read my words and join me in acceptance. Know that it can only get better from here. For those who haven’t, please heed this as a warning to avoid the pitfalls that many of us have suffered. “The Day After Tomorrow” is history. Please, let it remain that way.

Intro

I've thought about this quite a bit and to paraphrase Lloyd Dobbler, I would have to say considering what's waiting out there online already, I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything on my blog. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed or buy anything sold or processed or repair anything sold, bought or processed on my blog. I just don't want to do that.

To me, nothing is cut and dry. Black and white. Liberal or Conservative. I highly doubt that what I see will be exactly what you do, as well. Especially if its one of those friggin posters that you have to stare at for 5 minutes to find out that its a squirrel in a tree. But I digress. The fact is that the joy of sharing your opinion is mostly found in the disagreement you tend to find in what you said. I'd love to turn you on to something you might life. But even better, I'd love to turn your mind on something that you never cared for.

My aim is to share the places that I find culture, be they in novels or comics, films or television, baseball or whatever it is the Mets play. My interests run far and wide, running the gamut and back again. If you need proof, I point you to the third shelf of our entertainment center, where one finds Barry Manilow right before Moby. Yes, I alphabetize. Trust me, it's the least troublesome of my obsessive-complusive issues. (And BTW, don't knock Barry. He write the songs that make the whole world sing.)

I tend to feel that everything in life has some inherent value, but don't worry, I won't be afraid to say when it doesn't and why it went wrong. Ahem...Matrix sequels...So let's get on with my thoughts about...