b is for bad | sunday afternoon films

We’ve been talking a lot about film in this household lately and with good reason; both my husband and I are film critics as well as book and music critics, among the many other things that we do and that we write about, but lately especially, my interest has been in film as always, but I find myself slanting more toward television as it changes or has changed over the last few years.

The move toward so-called reality television has been a disturbing and slightly unnerving one, since the first episode of survivor. There was a time, about fifteen year ago now that my best friend told me that pretty soon, he said, Fox would be showing “live, nude executions” and we laughed because it seemed so preposterous. Now, Fox comes pretty close to showing executions and I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that they have, though I can’t say for sure, and the nude part – well, that much they have done and so has every other channel. When else in history did we ever see such a bunch of half-naked people running around, tits and ass all jiggle and all in the name of so-called “reality.” And when else did we see people having no simulated sex, but actual sex right before our eyes until shows like The Bachelor came along and showed us the not-at-steamy but dead-boring getting it on crap of Bob the Bachelor and his little harem of hottties who all basically look and sound the same with their iron straight wheat colored hair and pink lips, sucking their spit over their fillings as they tell us that it’s “not about the million dollarshssshh…” which of course, it is, because few of these couples have stayed together and under those circumstances, how would you ever know or believe that you could trust somebody? While you were courting they were dating fifteen other men or women; isn’t that just a grand story for the grand kids. How romantic.

It’s all gotten so bitchy and boring and nobody in real life used to speak the way they do in these programs, except now they’re beginning to which is a case of life imitating art, which was supposed to be art imitating life, so it’s now art imitating life imitating art, and has turned entirely in on itself.

I have been toying with the idea of going back to the good old Sunday afternoon made for TV movies that used to make me so happy because they were so predictable. The film which always but always had one woman who was in the beginning happy, but soon met with distress, and was of course, involved but her marriage or relationship was a bit rocky; together, the couple would be faced with some trial of some kind, some awfulness would befall them, usually in the form of another man who is slightly mad and over the edge, but who is attractive and seems charming at first. This third character often has a partner, who is less attractive and more into doing “bad” things – like raping the woman, using excessive force, etc. The good-looking character is the lesser evil of the bad guys or so it would seem. He is attractive, flirtatious with the woman but in a tough guy kind of way, and often smacks the husband or boyfriend in the face and kind of taunts and toys with the helpless female victim.

Article Author: Sadi Ranson-Polizzotti

Sadi Ranson-Polizzotti is a published writer in both the United States and Europe. She is widely known for her music commentary, particularly her writings about Bob Dylan about whom she runs a highly-trafficked site. …

Visit Sadi Ranson-Polizzotti's author page — Sadi Ranson-Polizzotti's Blog