The Abrams
I wish the Abrams schtick was getting old.
To me. To me.
And to a certain extent everyone else is right. In any case, Mr. Damon Lindelhof has in the last few years revealed himself to be the true hack behind The Lost Hydra, consistently penning some of the worst film ever made. Mr. Abrams is at worst a lousy filmmaker, and so what?
It’s probably called the Abrams because I don’t want to update my website. Okay, it would take about twenty minutes to do a global mySQL replace, one second to do, and 19:59 to find which section of StackExchange to copy and paste it from. Programming doesn’t take skill; it takes taste.
But I’m keeping it anyway because Mr. JJ Abrams represents my spiritual nemesis, or maybe the spiritual nemesis to whatever this thing is. This is the place to hallow the films that will last, as well as to rail against the films that The Critical Mass cannot get enough of. And Mr. Abrams, for whatever repellant personal qualities he may or certainly does possess, is the embodiment of what critics fall over themselves to thumb. If the Oscars celebrate what we think we should like, and the Razzies celebrate the films that are actually kind of awesome in their nuttiness, The Abrams is meant to take down a peg the films that need it, even if they don’t.
But they so do.