As a confirmed, certified and rubber-stamped movie buff, with my membership card, badge and newsletter to prove it, it’s fair to say that I watch a ridiculous amount of movies. However, even for my ilk and I, there will always be some films that are destined for relegation to the personal dumpster simply from one viewing of the trailer. Man must be discerning in his choices. Either these trailers elicit an emotional flat line coupled with an interest-index of zero, or they result in some kind of unpleasant spasm of distaste which I simply cannot ignore. It’s very hard to ignore a spasm of distaste, let me tell you.

In Trailer Trash (did you see what I did there?), I’ll be inspecting new trailers and explaining why I, and perhaps I alone, will be respectfully declining any opportunity to see more than the allotted two minutes of the movie on display.

Release The Curmudgeon!

Battlefield America

5 Reasons Why I Won’t Be Seeing This Movie

1. Snotty little kids – Most movies manage to be good despite the children in them, very rarely because of the children in them. Obviously there are exceptions, but clearly this isn’t one of them. And even then, it is a mathematical certainty that the chances of a movie making the grade despite the children in it decrease in direct ratio to the number of children present. This thing is littered with them! They’re everywhere, like fleas on a dog! Go do your homework, young man, and let the adults talk!

2. Kids doing the tough guy thing – What are you, ten? Twelve? Is there anything less intimidating than a small child trying to look all tough by walking like Clyde from Every Which Way but Loose and curling his barely formed lips up in the kind of sneer that most likely caps off a particularly bad losing streak on the X-Box? Get outta here, kid, you’re bothering me.

3. Stupid dancing – Hey, if I want to see a bunch of people jerking around like they’re having seizures I’ll go to the local emergency ward. It’s free and there’s a coffee machine. This isn’t dancing, it’s synchronised electrocution. “How are we supposed to make it to Battlefield doing the electric slide?” asks an earnest little tyke to the general agreement of his ‘crew’. What the Hell is he talking about? I feel old. Make it stop.

4. If you believe in yourself…yawn – Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a little bit of inspirational pixie dust in a film. I enjoyed The Shawshank Redemption as much as the next guy. But when your aspirations amount to little more than being able to do a better impersonation of Pinocchio having his strings cut than the other ‘crew’, I can’t say I’m particularly inspired to spend two precious hours of my increasingly advancing life watching you scale those dizzy heights. That’s two hours I could spend trying to fit my entire fist into my mouth. A far more interesting pursuit, I’ll wager.

5. Big, fat, smelly headache – The dreadful music, the screaming children, the flashing lights. If this isn’t a recipe for the kind of headache that makes you squint at people slightly, before rubbing your eyes ‘twixt thumb and forefinger, I don’t know what is. It’s like spending two hours at some awful children’s party where you feel obliged to smile sweetly at the other parents as forty little monsters rampage around the house like Godzilla in Tokyo. If I want a headache I’ll watch a Michael Bay movie. At least that’ll have some robots or some crap dialogue I can laugh at.

Quod erat demonstratum.

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