I have since developed the opinion that viewing a true failure of a film will train one to focus on the construction of a film more intensely, and develop an even healthier respect for film as an art form. To provide an artistic comparison, would one truly recognize the brilliance in the works of Van Gogh if they had never seen a poorly conceived piece of art? I believe that it is doubtful. As a society, we all can recognize that some things are inherently beautiful; however, we have a greater perception with beauty when we are exposed to something that is truly heinous and grotesque. We cannot fully appreciate the wonders of love without having been exposed to the horrors of hate. We cannot truly enjoy the fruits of laughter as much without ever having experienced the pains of sadness. By this rationale, we also cannot exalt brilliant, masterful works of film without having been exposed to truly awful examples of the form.

It is no secret that having to suffer through a truly bad film is a considerably frustrating and disgusting task; I felt intensely uncomfortable last year as I suffered through the horrors of Hannibal Rising and Happily N'Ever After. But the miserable experience of viewing such films made me even more appreciative when I viewed films like Juno and No Country for Old Men months later. Therefore, to those who share my love and passion for the beautiful form that is film, I implore you to expose yourself to the horror that is Manos: The Hands of Fate. Just remember to view it with extreme caution...