The Terminator is one of my favorite movies. When my Windy City pals Adam Kempenarr and Josh Larsen announced the other week that they would make writer-director James Cameron's low-budget, high-concept sci-fi classic the subject of one of their "Sacred Cow" reviews, I knew that the likelihood that Josh—a critic who generally seems to dislike action films, with the bizarre exception of the Fast & the Furious franchise, which to me represents the genre at its most derivative and least inspired—would rain on it. He hates Predator, people! Predator! A film I saw last year at the Library of Congress!
So I took action. To paraphrase Al Capone, you can get farther with a kind word and a quote from The Terminator than you can with a kind word alone. The threatening voice mail I left for Josh opened last week's episode.
That's disingenuous. Plenty of critics have called Richard Curtis on the way his new movie About Time cheats already. My take, which you can read on Monkey See now, is somewhat unique, I hope.
Backstory: I saw About Time on vacation in Leicester Square in London about two months ago, several weeks before it opened here in the States. (Fancy!) With the exchange rate being what it is, two tickets cost me the equivalent of $50 -- double the freight of a first-run movie here in Washington, DC. I would've been steamed to spend that much on a film I disliked. As I suspected I would, I enjoyed the film unabashedly, but I felt even guiltier for liking it than I'd felt for liking Curtis's other sappy movies, especially Love, Actually, which was particularly egregious. About Time's handling of its time-travel conceit was just so lazy and... unfair.