The Worst:
THE SHADOW (1994)
There are movies I remember as terrible, and then there are movies I simply don’t remember at all...as if a mysterious vigilante with the power to cloud men’s minds had simply erased all traces of this pre-intentionally-funny Alec Baldwin snoozer from my consciousness. The plot synopsis on Wikipedia sounds far more entertaining than the actual film, what with its dirty hypnotism, 1930s Genghis Khan revivalism and Phurba, the living knife (no relation to Furby or Flowbee). But even after reviewing the plot and rewatching a few YouTube clips, there are still only three things I really remember about the film. One, it co-stars Penelope Ann Miller...almost never a good sign. Two, the villain (played by John Lone) uses mental powers to make New Yorkers think his luxury hotel is invisible...a neat trick somebody oughta teach Donald Trump. And finally (and most memorably), my old pal Radmar Jao has the best line in the movie, advising someone not to light up in the hero’s secret lair: “No smoking in the Skull Cave.” Oh...wait a minute...that was that OTHER completely unmemorable 1990s adaptation of a 1930s comic: The Phantom, starring Billy Zane and Kristy Swanson (easily winning the bland-off with Miller). But, hey...at least Radmar was good.
ROAD TO PERDITION (2002)
Based on a graphic novel by Max Allan Collins, Perdition takes a simple revenge tale, adds a dollop of sins-of-the-father melodrama, and inflates the flimsy result to Biblical proportions. Tom Hanks plays Michael Sullivan, a hit man working for Paul Newman's John Rooney, mob boss of a Chicago suburb in the era of Al Capone. When his son Mike witnesses a gangland execution, Sullivan is forced to hit the road with the kid in tow, and soon father and son are bonding over a bank-robbing spree. Despite the pre-release speculation that Perdition would serve as the vehicle for Tom Hanks' first "bad guy" performance, the star delivers another of his flawed but noble saints. Sure, Michael Sullivan is a killer, but since almost everyone else in the movie is more vicious, and they're all out to get him, he comes off as a guy who's just doing what he's gotta do to protect his son. If you didn’t know Sam Mendes directed this tedious would-be epic, you'd swear it was a movie by master of bloat Frank Darabont. Nearly every scene is leaden, weighed down with portent and production designed to death. Torrents of rain are always pouring from the brims of fedoras while grim-faced men fire tommy guns into other grim-faced men who tumble to their doom in artful slow motion. It’s designed to be Oscar bait, but fortunately no one was biting.
HOWARD THE DUCK (1986)
This jaw-dropper, which was proudly emblazoned with the name of George Lucas, and which was the last movie directed by American Graffiti co-writer Willard Huyck -- he's still alive, but trust me, he's never going to direct another one -- belongs to what may well be the most select of all groups, movies that were catastrophic box-office and critical failures that nobody will now argue is actually a misunderstood work of genius. Heaven's Gate, Myra Breckinridge, At Long Last Love, Ishtar, hell, maybe Battlefield Earth -- each of them has some crackpot out there who'll keep you up all night explaining what's really so great about it. Not this thing. It's not even worth discussing its failure to in any way represent what's good, or even what sucks, about its alleged source material, an uneven but gorgeously cranky and weird Marvel series that writer Steve Gerber spun off from a supporting character he once threw into a Man-Thing comic, reportedly just to annoy his bosses. All you can do is stare at the thing and wonder what in God's sweet name they thought they were doing, until the noise becomes too much and you have to tune out. Howard was the first Marvel Comics-based movie to make it to theaters, and it is in fact harder to sit through than any number of subsequent Marvel-based projects that went straight to video. The only evidence that the people who made this had any sense at all is that, in the trailer and other publicity materials, they did their damndest to keep prospective ticket-buyers from getting a clear look at the poor bastard in the duck suit. If they'd found a way to keep people watching the movie from getting a clear look at it, they might have made some of their money back.
ELEKTRA (2005)
I’m pretty sure no one wanted Marvel Studios to resurrect Elektra, the hot ninja assassin (played by Jennifer Garner) who died in the dreadful Daredevil. But with Garner’s star on the rise, the fetching killer rose from the grave for this 2005 spin-off, a tiresome dud in which we learn that Elektra suffers from obsessive-compulsive disorder but doesn’t mind tussling with (and spilling the blood of) yucky villains, is a trained murderer-for-hire who nonetheless has a pesky conscience, and likes to prance about like a runway model when not dispatching superpowered goons. Rob Bowman’s film has no energy or depth but plenty of turgid drama involving Elektra’s grief over her mother’s death and her tutelage under blind mentor Stick (Terence Stamp), unimaginative nonsense that – like the PG-13 ogling of Garner’s buff (but always clothed) body – unfortunately takes precedence over the heroine’s clashes with a group of intriguing baddies like Tattoo, a man whose body art comes to deadly life.
SUPERMAN IV: THE QUEST FOR PEACE (1987)
It certainly didn’t take long for the Superman franchise to bottom out. While many superhero legacies merely drop in quality, becoming disappointments after the first few installments, the Superman movies went from first to worst in the twinkling of an eye, and by the time the fourth installment rolled around, fans were praying for a hailstorm of kryptonite to kill the damn things off for good. When Superman IV was made, a combination of factors practically ensured it would be a disaster: the non-participation of many of the supporting players, the demands by Christopher Reeve to have more creative input, and the passing of the rights to the franchise from the Salkinds to the deplorable hacks at Golan-Globus. Reeve was given his script input, and the result was a well-meaning pile of shit so rank that he eventually pretended he didn’t have anything to do with it; and while Sidney Furie gets the official blame for directing this incoherent, overlong, and utterly incompetent disaster, most people believe that the real responsibility lies with uberhack/swindler/bad movie mogul Menahem Golan, who apparently spent most of the filming screaming at anyone who bothered to stick around the set. Superman IV: The Quest for Peace was made for a fraction of what the previous films had cost, and it shows; if nothing else, it serves as a potent reminder to those who were so disappointed by Superman III that things can always get worse.
Click Here For Part One, Two, Three, Five & Six
Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Scott Von Doviak, Phil Nugent, Nick Schager & Leonard Pierce