My friend JJ is an aficionado of bad films, or rather bad films of a certain type. He’s not interested in uber-low-budget absurdities of the Plan 9 From Outer Space sort — for him, a bad film can only be amusing when
(1) It’s a major studio product with a production budget in at least the eight figures; and
(2) It’s supposed to appeal to actual adults.
The second stipulation is obviously fuzzier than the first, but it would seem to clearly rule out Adam Sandler fart comedies and other material aimed at 12-year-olds, while leaving room for things like Sex and the City 2.
Consider the film’s painful climax, in which Samantha, now wearing shorts and a low-cut top, spills dozens of condoms from her purse in the middle of a crowded market. Right before the condom explosion, the Islamic call to prayer, the Adhan, is conveniently heard for no discernible reason. The angry, hairy men, overwhelmed by anger and shock, decide to abandon their daily activities and busy life to encircle Samantha and condemn her as a harlot and slut, but not before Samantha proudly holds the condoms up high and dry humps the air telling the men she uses them to have sex. Because they cannot tolerate a sassy, back-talking, condom-using female baring her legs, they decide en masse to spontaneously chase all four women. Appearing like an oasis in the desert, two mysterious women in a burqa silently nod to the four girls, who subsequently follow the women into a secret room revealing the existence of a secret book club attended by a dozen niqabi women, who disrobe to reveal their hidden designer clothes, fashionable shoes and makeup.
For more than a decade now, Twister has been at the top of JJ’s list. But he’s going to be in the theater this weekend with his wife (both are actually fans of the Sex and the City HBO series, as am I), and his expectations are high.
“I”m really getting excited about this movie,” he tells me. “This could be the one.”