I couldn't stop laughing during Abraxas. In the intro, Jesse Ventura says -- in his heavy Midwestern accent -- that he's been an intergalactic police officer for the last 10,000 years, and then he says "That's RIGHT! I've been an intergalactic police officer for the last 10,000 years!" So, did he start balding at year 1,000? That gal gets pregnant by magic, and has her kid within a few days. Her parents don't seem to care that she somehow conceived a child and gave birth to that child in ludicrous speed. I could go on for ten pages, but I digress.
I've seen A LOT of movies, one of my best friends has a degree in film. I've had good and bad movies recommended for me, in that they're all watchable in their own way. For me to declare a movie as being the worst ever, it would have to be one where I sat through it and hate myself to this day for sitting through it. Another factor that fuels my rage is if very few esteemed critics share in my disgust.
The absolute WORST movie I've ever seen in my life, is Blue Velvet. Blue Velvet -- oddly enough -- is also one of my film friend's favorite movies of all time. Critics by and large LOVE this movie, it currently maintains a 93% favorability rating on Rotten Tomatoes. Roger Ebert (rest his soul) however, shared in my pure hatred for this movie.
Blue Velvet is, first and foremost, a movie directed by David Lynch. David Lynch is the kind of pretentious moron who imagines that a gratuitous amount of annoying and disgusting visual effects equal symbolic genius. The idea being that you could throw together any random mess of whatever was on your mind at that moment, and ridicule anybody who attempts to decipher its supposedly complex meaning while knowing full well that there was no meaning except to justify acting like an arrogant prick.
Blue Velvet stars David Lynch's dating profile avatar, Kyle MacLachlan. Kyle MacLachlan shows off his superb acting prowess by playing a confused dork who just can't stop himself from breaking into a woman's apartment, and then having spontaneous sex with this woman in a manner that's less visually appealing than the ripped open lizard baby from Eraserhead.
Dennis Hopper is in this movie as literally the only aspect of this movie from which any positive critical review manages to share a constructive analysis, and his character is a mother fucking (literally) idiot. Dennis Hopper plays Frank Booth, a guy who huffs fumes that make him launch into fits of pseudo-homicidal/sexual rage. It's implied that Frank Booth is dangerous, even though he (no joke) gets his ass kicked by Kyle McLaughlin's squirrely character and then just lets Kyle MacLachlan go unharmed when given the opportunity to kill him.
Laura Dern is in this movie, as a woman who can't stop fucking crying. Her face does that horrifying "meeeeeeeh" look and almost any stupid influence can set her off. Camera cuts right to her face "Bah wah wah wah!"
Isabella Rosellini is in this movie, and she just happens to have been David Lynch's girlfriend during filming. Gay men of the world, if there's a straight guy who you're trying to turn, make him watch this movie. I'm still into women, but good God all mighty was it difficult to get the imagery of nude Isabella Rosellini out of my head. She doesn't just do a one off scene where she's changing clothes, she is nude for what seems like 80% of this movie. Imagine that one of the disheveled male zombies from Walking Dead wanders into a scene that's meant to come across as erotic to the observer. I'm sorry, I don't mean to body shame, but for fuck's sake! Women of WrestleZone; watch this movie and then see if you can tell me that memories of nude Isabella Rosellini didn't destroy any remote possibility that you could ever go lesbian.
Frank Booth has a shootout with police, where all you see is police pinned down in what's obviously a cheaply designed set shooting prop guns by knocking their own wrists back as if to make the recoil of a gun look like shaking parmesan cheese.
Frank Booth captures a police detective and lobotomizes him, freaky right? All they fucking show you is the detective standing there with a blank expression, all the observer has to go on is "Umm, was he lobotomized maybe?" The only way that anybody knows that a lobotomy occurred was by reading reviews, so Frank Booth can supposedly perform complex surgeries.
I sat through this movie because I saw its reviews and was assured by my friend -- whom I repeat earned a fucking degree in film -- that I would love this movie. This movie gave me PTSD for months, and I'm not fucking joking about that. I've sat through films that would make your hair curl with the level of obscene content they force onto you, and none of them come close to the abomination that is Blue Velvet.
An unwatchable farce of cinema, directed in a derivative manner relating to less poorly directed Lifetime tv movies, that fails in every attempt to elicit a specific reaction from any audience member with half a fucking brain. This movie showed me that people who are paid to review art forms -- which includes pro-wrestling (dave Meltzer) -- are stealing money. Movie critics are no more gainfully employed than video game journalists, I rate a movie critic as being as worthwhile a human contributor to society as I do some random jack-off who tells you to play Halo while dressed like Mister Rogers because Mountain Dew Doritos.
Take EVERY movie that has been mentioned in this thread and throw them in a pool of shit. I would rather scoop those movies out with my bare hands and watch ALL of them in their entirety before I subject myself to ten minutes of Blue Velvet. It's THAT bad.
Honorable mention: Welcome to the Dollhouse.
