I don’t remember the exact moment when I decided to stage the Doomed Divas Moviethon but a dark cloud began to form on the horizon. And it was filled with blood (and chunks of stuff). This sadomasochistic idea of watching Gigli, Crossroads, and Glitter in a row usually elicited groans in the people I told. Some sickos however, were strangely enthusiastic of my proposed endeavor. The response: “Holy shit, please tell me when you’re doing that!” came as something of a surprise to me.

When I got past the fear of submitting myself to something truly soul-destroying and started to actually plan the thing, I conferred with my trusted pop culture guru and friend, Nafa, about what other titles should join the wretchedness. He immediately came up with From Justin to Kelly and winced when I told him that Swept Away would open the festivities. There were other Madonna disasters mentioned such as Shanghai Surprise and Desperately Seeking Susan (which is actually too good to be included). He then suggested Spiceworld and Xanadu while I insisted on Purple Rain (yes, Prince is a diva too) and Can’t Stop the Music (Village People!). Clearly, there is going to be a sequel someday.

So the playlist was set: Swept Away, From Justin to Kelly, Crossroads, Gigli, and Glitter. The key elements here are financial disappointment (unfortunately, Crossroads actually made money, god damn it), unanimous critical disdain, and my own allergic reaction to even contemplating watching these craptacular flicks. So why only 5 titles? Well…

After Giallo Meltdown 3 came and went, the ideas for moviethons were plenty but our new living arrangement made the logistics of a full length moviethon a little more complicated. Back in October of 2009, my mother-in-law Margie moved in with LeEtta and I. At first, I was unsure of what her tolerance would be for some of the truly sick viewing I had in mind. I was also concerned about how she would take to me bogarting the TV for 2 and a half days (standard moviethon length). So what better way to break the ice than with something short and blissfully terrible? Our glittery and bedazzled acid test was about to begin.

Saturday, February 27th, 2010

I’m so glad I set the alarm this morning. We woke up at 9:00 and I could have gone for another couple hours at least. But no time for that, we had errands to run, damn it. This moviethon is different thanks to our new location. We hadn’t had a moviethon yet at the new Doomed Moviethon HQ. We’ve also never had one of our moms joining us for the duration. That’s right, my mother-in-law Margie is our new housemate and she has promised to cook lots and lots of food today. That is different and new. We also have Shadow, our first canine moviethoner. Hell, even our ride is new. That’s right, the 1978 Ford Thunderbird (Frida) has gone to Car Heaven. We now have a Scion xD (Howard) as our official moviethon vehicle.

In the miserable cold rain, LeEtta and I drove out to deliver the recycling over on campus. We still don’t know where a recycling center is on this side of town but we made the trip worth our while. We went to our old usual Saturday morning haunt – the Einstein Bagels on Fowler and 50th – and hit Cigar Castle for old times’ sake. I miss hanging out there and BSing with the owner, Atul, and NOT talking about football with his other patrons. I picked out some fine smokes and we head back home.

12:09pm – Swept Away

Released: 2002
Budget: $10 Million
Box Office: $600k
IMDB Rating: 3.5/10
Rotten Tomatoes Rating: 5%

In the 80s, Madonna was a god. In the 90s, she ruined sex for everyone. I remember seeing the ‘I Hate Madonna Handbook’ in the grocery store once and actually being tempted to buy it. She got so overexposed and annoying that she just made me seethe with anger whenever she was on TV. That ‘Sex’ book, that friggin’ ‘Erotica’ album, and that topless outfit she wore at that fashion show. Ugh. She kept pushing the envelope until everyone vomited at the very mention of her name. Remember when Drew Barrymore flashed her boobs at David Letterman? That cruel and pointless act. Madonna’s career during the 90s was just like that only more nauseating.

But what about redemption? Certainly, “Ray of Light” and “Hung Up” are reasons to rejoice. When I hear those tunes, I remember what I love about the old girl. There are bright spots in the gloom. But then she did that odious duet with Justin Timberlake. “Tick tock tick tock tick tock!” Worse than that, she covered “The Day the Music Died”. Woops. I don’t even like that song but I sure as fuck hated her cover of it. So Madonna, you’re still on my shit list. Will Swept Away sweep your sins under the rug?

Our friend Kat has arrived. We start the movie and I immediately knock over and break a figurine of a Japanese lady that rests in front of the volume control on the speakers. Damn it, Madonna gets me so excited! I apologize profusely to Margie who takes the pieces away. This might be a bad omen. In Swept Away, Madonna plays an asshole rich lady who curses a lot on a yacht she and her also rich husband rented. Pepe is the Italian fisherman who hates her. But you know he’s gonna fall in love with her. This movie is pretty awkward so far. All of the scenes seem really lethargic and tense. Guy Ritchie could have picked a better actress than Madonna for this movie but it would still be dull and freakish.

“You don’t need eyes to bake cakes.”

The best part of the movie is the crew. The captain and the cooks who work below are hilarious and you can see the director had a good time with their scenes. There’s a great montage set to the rhythms of the rocking boat and it occurs to me that when there is no dialogue this movie is watchable. The first 20 minutes of Swept Away feel like 2 hours. We’re in for the long haul on this cruise. You know what would help this boring ass movie? If only the two people who hated each other could get stuck together somehow. Then the plot could really just come to a complete stop. Oh goodie! They get stranded on a desert island. Just the two of them. And once again, the best scenes are when no one is speaking.

“Let the cold of the night wrestle the last of the beast within you.”

This movie is agony by the way. Kat is astonished by how awful Madonna is. Since Pepe is the fisherman, he is most likely to survive on the island so he immediately establishes his dominance over Madonna. He intends to punish her for being such a beyatch on the boat. But then he takes his game too far. “Call me ‘master’,” Pepe says and my stomach lurches. Where is Tom Hanks when you need him? Next we have an almost rape scene. Pepe wrestles Madonna to the ground and begins to force himself on her. This really disconcerting rape scene begins but stops when he gets her to admit that SHE WANTS HIM TO RAPE HER! Man overboard! Alarm!

What the shit is this shit? Is this one of Madonna’s erotic fantasies played out on the screen for our entertainment? What a kinky freak! Now she’s crawling around on her hands and knees and kissing his feet. Why am I being tortured like this? This is like alien sex or something. Maybe if this was 1976 and Pepe was played by Tomas Milian and Madonna was played by Anita Strindberg, I’d find some enjoyment maybe. But don’t think for an instant that I would be watching this pukefest with my wife, my mother-in-law and one of our female friends. This is really embarrassing.

Poor Kat. First, she thought this was the Madonna movie with Rupert Everett (a hope she abandoned after the first 15 minutes or so). Then they ruin one of her favorite songs, “Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star when Madonna and Pepe start falling in love. That’s right. The Italian jerk and the rich beyatch are now in love. Madonna spots a boat and decides not to tell Pepe about it because she’s so happy being subjugated by this horrible man who we’re supposed to like. Later, they get rescued and Pepe freaks out because he doesn’t know if she ever really loved him. Let the guy go, he has PMTSD (Post Madonna Traumatic Stress Disorder).

Did I mention that we are all in very real physical pain this movie is causing us? We only have 10 minutes to go and they are gearing up to be the longest of our lives. I wish I was at the post office or the DMV right now. So Madonna’s mean husband hatches the most transparent scheme ever concocted to keep Pepe and Madonna apart. AND IT WORKS! They don’t end up together. Kat points out that this plot device may have worked if the movie was set in 1820 or something. What a terrible ending. Nice going, Guy Dickie. They’re perfect for each other and they should be able to be together because you know they’re just going to destroy whoever they end up with. Did I mention this a remake?

2:07pm – From Justin to Kelly

Released: 2003
Budget: $12 million
Box Office: $5 million
IMDB Rating: 1.6/10
Rotten Tomatoes Rating: 8%

Kelly Clarkson… That’s Elvis’s daughter, right? I suspect that she might be the least evil of all the divas in this moviethon. But she’s still young. There is still time for her to destroy the Earth. So in this movie, Elvis’s daughter waitresses in a country and western bar but she sings sometimes. Her crappy friends Kaya and Alexa want her to go to spring break. This redneck dude named Luke clearly has a crush on her. Justin also has two equally crappy friends. One is a nerd and the other is a douchebag named Brandon who can’t button his shirt. Oh look, there’s a party on the beach where people break out into song. Oh yeah, this is a musical. I forgot.

I won’t even go to a party unless there is going to be inline skating. We are 9 minutes into this little film and it has already blown Swept Away out of the water. Did I mention that Brandon is a douchebag? He’s the only one on the planet who doesn’t know he’s gay. I’m going to go ahead and guess that the ‘gay Brandon’ issue will not be covered during this film. Oh snap, he just buttoned his shirt! Okay, it was only one button but I consider it an epic plot point. There is talk of WHIP CREAM BIKINIS!

Kelly’s friend just accused her of ‘clenching’. Later at another party, we notice the hilarious extras in this movie. Holy shit, was that an internal songologue? Justin and Kelly are both looking for something that will last longer than a spring break fling. LeEtta suggests they try a venereal disease. Kelly’s friend Kaya is nearly single-handedly ruining this movie. For some reason, Justin is the ‘mayor of spring break’ which- oh fuck, Brandon is rapping.

Kaya gets her own romance with some hot bartender duder and he takes her salsa dancing. Later, Kelly gets mad at Justin because he and his friends are throwing a WHIP CREAM BIKINI contest. More singing and I notice that there is way too much ‘WHOA, WHOA YEAH!’ in all of the songs.. Kelly gives JoJo another chance and they go on a boat ride. I have a panic attack that they might get stranded on a desert island. I will probably never trust Madonna again. Margie has made one hell of a relish tray for us with pickles, cheese, crackers, and olives.

Watch out, Kelly, your best bud Alexa is actually a frenemy. Now Alexa is singing about being a tramp. Fuckin’ a, people, give the bad girl a decent song at least. I am reaching my breaking point on this movie. In a rip-roarin’ and knee-slappingly hilarious subplot, the nerdy guy is giving some guy dating advice. Now Kelly is mad at Justin again so she starts singing angrily about love or bomb diggity or something. This is hard to follow. I’ve seen episodes of “Saved by the Bell” that had more complex plotlines than this.

Oh good, a HOVERCRAFT RACE will decide who is the better man and who will end up with Kelly. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that Luke, the redneck pitifully in love with Kelly showed up. The friggin’ country bumpkin gets injured during the thrilling HOVERCRAFT RACE and they have to send him over to Beach Patrol Headquarters to get stitched up. Kaya’s boyfriend is mad because she got him fired from his job and he needs the work. Apparently, this spring break deal is a class war thing and he’s the proletariat. What the fuck?

Kelly finally discovers that Alexa has been intercepting Justin’s texts and trying to steal him away from her. And her excuse is that she never meant to hurt Kelly, she just wanted Justin to like her because then she’d be just as good as Kelly because no one ever sees her for who she really is because like all anyone ever sees is her party girl side and no one wants to get to know the real Alexa. What a god damned slut! So From Justin to Kelly doesn’t really have an ending. It just sort of stops.

3:47pm – Cigar Break

I run over to 7-11 and get a 24 ounce Shasta Cola and return to smoke my delightfully dark and aromatic Cain cigar. The world outside of Doomed Moviethon HQ is a little off. Everyone seems really unfriendly and there’s a lot of tension in the air. Maybe they’re all scared of Gigli too. On the phone, Nafa said that me watching Swept Away caused the tsunamis but I think that was the earthquake in Chile. This Shasta cola is cheap and caustic but it has that old school cheap cola flavor that I love. The rain has stopped but the weather is overcast and cool out. Perfect moviethon weather. Back inside, Margie lets me try a sample of the chocolate chip oatmeal cookies she’s made and they’re freakin’ amazing.

5:14pm – Crossroads

Released: 2002
Budget: $12 million
Box Office: $37 million
IMDB Rating: 2.8/10
Rotten Tomatoes Rating: 14%

Britney Spears is not evil, she is just misunderstood. I think. This movie kicks off with three little girls burying their dreams in a box. I guess they are burying their dreams so that they will never come true. Flash forward to Britney dancing in her underwear to a Madonna song. Under the pitiless gaze of a Madonna poster, Swept Away comes back to haunt us. It’s high school graduation and Britney is the valedictorian (oh yeah) and Dan Akroyd is her father. One of friends is pregnant and the other one is a popular jerk. So much for the future. After the graduation dance (do they have those?), Britney is having second thoughts about getting deflowered by her boyfriend played by that dude. He’s a dopey and nerdy nice guy. He’s her lab partner and he is begging for it.

The three friends unite and dig up their box of shitty dreams. The pregnant one wants to go to California to get an audition for a record contract. The dreamy guitarist (who supposedly murdered a guy) is driving out there. Britney wants to go to Arizona and find her mom who abandoned her as a child. And the bitchy one wants to go to UCLA and visit her boyfriend (a college guy, oooooooooo). Hey, what the fuck is this? This movie doesn’t suck! I did not sign up for a good movie.

The most interesting thing about Crossroads is that the setup is so perfect for a slasher flick. There is the seedy hotel room and the whole thing about their male escort duder being a murderer and all. The gang gets stranded by the side of the road and need $350 to repair the car. And there’s only one way to make that kind of green in The Big Easy. Unfortunately, I’m not talkin’ about hookin’. There is a karaoke contest that pays cash money to the winner.

Britney has to save the day because the loser pregnant chick chokes on stage. They sing that Pat Benatar song “I Love Rock and Roll” and they remove all traces of ‘rock’ from it. They get a better hotel after winning the contest. We don’t get to see the other contestants, WTF? We did get to see the creepy guy dancing like an epileptic and scaring a waitress though. After some TEEN DRINKING, the girls have a heart to heart. Several heart to hearts actually. Oh thank God, they’re bonding again. This movie is kind of good. Shit.

“Y’all, somethin’ bit my ass!”

Oh, why did her mom have to be Kim Cattrall? Wait. Why would Kim Cattrall sleep with Dan Akroyd? Was Akroyd like really, really desperate or something. Unrealistic! Ha ha, her mom doesn’t love her. Shit, this is the worst episode of “The Locator” ever. So the bitchy one goes to see her jerk fiance who is a total jerk. He turns out to be the rapist that got the pregnant one pregnant. Oh, bitter irony. Then the pregnant one falls down the stairs and loses the kid. I laugh heartily. Sad sad sad.

Akroyd flies out to LA to yell at Britney for running away. Thanks for crushing my dreams, daddy. It’s only slightly worse than when you did Blues Brothers 2000. Britney says FUCK YOU DAD because she has to make the hard choice and stays in LA. I mean, the guitar guy is dreamy and they love each other. Did I mention that she lost her virginity to him? Yeah, she did. Her big finale song keeps insisting that she’s ‘not a girl’ and I think this is supposed to be important. Wait, what am I saying? She is proving herself, man. The end. Did I mention that this isn’t the Crossroads movie starring Ralph Macchio. I didn’t. Okay. Well, it’s not.

6:48pm – Dinner Break

Holy crap. We have a feast! Margie has made the most delicious pork roast ever. I get to take a knife to it and decimate the thing so that we can have pulled pork sammiches. We also have coleslaw and BBQ sauce and cheddar cheese and mayo and a bunch of other heart-stopping things. Ladies and gentlemen, moviethon meals have changed forever. Sweet damn.

7:44pm – Gigli

Released: 2003
Budget: $54 million
Box Office: $6 million
IMDB Rating: 2.3/10
Rotten Tomatoes Rating: 6%

Jennifer Lopez is the devil or at least a demonic robot. When the Julia Roberts robot became too rusty to function and the Sandra Bullock robot broke down, they built the Jennifer Lopez robot. But she went mad and killed her creators. Now she is J-Low and she has the power to bring about the apocalypse. Ben Affleck isn’t talking to us, the audience, he’s talking to a man in a dryer. How clever? He is a gangster because he wears a leather jacket. But he’s a softie. He has to harass this mentally challenged kid in order to make his boss happy. He kidnaps the mentally deficient guy and starts talking to his flashlight about ‘The Baywatch’. I am getting scared.

“I gotta pee, Larry.”

Jennifer Lopez shows up and I’m even more scared now. She’s trying to seduce me. Something bad is going to happen, I just know it. The word ‘excoriate’ has been used. Is this supposed to be like Rain Man? Is J-Low supposed to be Italian? This movie is a mess. And no one is likable. Okay, except maybe Brian the mental handicapper. He’s cool. So Affleck and Lopez are ‘contractors’. I guess that means they are paid to do something. When Affleck tries to seduce J-Low, we find out that she’s gay. That’s the twist. We can turn the movie off now!

Christopher Walken shows up and tears this movie a new asshole (like it needed another one). Then he’s gone. Crap. This movie has some major shifts in tone that are just annoying. The dialogue however is what really takes the shit-cake in this masterpiece of cinema. J-Low’s badass routine is embarrassing and lame. We get to see Affleck’s mom’s butt in a thong when she gets an insulin shot. His mom is that actress who is too good for this movie. She and J-Low share a little lesbian connection which is probably going to be the best scene in the movie.

It’s fun to watch Afflex and J-Low set their careers back 10 years (I’m being generous here) with this nonsense. Her vagina speech just ruined sex for me. Now I’m convinced that Lowpez and Madonna are in cahoots to screw me over (in a bad way). Then her psycho girlfriend shows up and slits her wrists. Yay blood! Gigli is now a really bad play written by a bisexual college student. This is just vulgar and boring. This movie is like Rain Man, Midnight Run (same director as Gigli, I shit you not!), and Chasing Amy.

The line I had heard about is actually very real. “It’s turkey time. Gobble, gobble.” That’s right, J-Low is demanding that Afflex perform oral sex on her. I can’t fucking believe this. This is Swept Away Part 2: The Gobbling. Affleck’s apartment is the desert island. Kat just said that I used to remind her of Ben Affleck back when I was first dating LeEtta. I am crushed. How can that be? Al Pacino just made his entrance and I’m going to die. Now Brian is rappin’. You see, he’s retarded and knows every rap song by heart. This is not funny. This is interminable.

The similarities between Gigli and Swept Away are glaring. Both movies could have slipped under the radar had they been some indie director’s vanity project. But somehow, someone threw millions of dollars at these films and it blew up in their faces. Throw in a couple of big names who don’t know any better than to rape their careers in public and voila, you have swill. Gigli sucks. Big time. I haven’t seen a movie this repulsive since Swept Away.

9:56pm – Glitter

Released: 2001
Budget: $22 million
Box Office: $4 million
IMDB Rating: 2.0/10
Rotten Tomatoes Rating: 7%

Here are five words I never thought I would ever type out loud: “Mariah Carey, please save me.” In this movie, young Mariah’s mom is a drunk mom. That’s very sad. At least that is what the depresso-filter over these past scenes seems to indicate. But at least they have music to keep each other happy. Until mom’s drunken cigarette sleeping burns the dang house down and Mariah goes into a foster home. She makes a couple of friends and they bury a box with their dreams inside it.

Mariah grows up and its 1983 now. She’s a dancer in a nightclub but not a stripper. She does not strip. She and her budz from the foster home (one of them played by Da Brat) get jobs as backup singers. A scumbag record producer (played by Terrence ‘Baby Wipes’ Howard) notices that Mariah can sing so he uses her voice to cover up the fact that his talentless star can’t sing at all.

“I don’t soup girls up.”

We meet Dice the corny DJ. The guy has no skillz whatsoever. How the fuck did he become such a popular DJ. Okay, Glitter definitely has the best soundtrack of this entire moviethon. It’s amazing how much some old school cutz can improve even the shittiest piece of shit. Dice (who is clearly some kind of a British actor) sees Mariah’s talent and becomes her love interest manager. Let me guess, he’s gonna mismanage her career. He agrees to buy her from ‘Baby Wipes’ and gets her a record contract.

Oh this is so flippin’ predictable. The Diceman is going to fuck up her career. It’s like a time-bomb, this plot. Why do they keep dressing him up like that? Is he supposed to be gay or what? We all agree that the production designer has no fucking clue what the 1980s looked like. The hair, makeup, and clothes are all wrong, especially on Mariah. I’m guessing she was too diva to cheese it up for a period piece and it is actually distracting. Boo.

Holy shit, Da Brat is awful in this movie. Everyone else is dull but Da Brat is just awful. To make her look unattractive, they dress her up like a yard-sale Patti LaBelle. Diceman still owes ‘Baby Wipes’ the money for buying Mariah off of him. This movie is actually going by pretty quickly. I think we are in safer territory here. After Swept Away, we should have gone directly to Gigli to get it over with. Then Glitter, Crossroads, and ended on From Justin to Kelly. I now see the error of my ways.

Mariah is a chipmunk puppy. I’m sorry but she looks freakin’ weird. There’s not enough drug use in this movie. It’s set in the 1980s, there are record executives everywhere, and no one is doing coke. What the fuck is that about? Everyone is trying to steal Mariah away from Dice and rightfully so. The guy is a loser. Wait. Hold the phone. Why is he acting so erratically and getting all angry and stuff at the drop of a hat? I bet the original screenplay had him doing a bunch of drugs and they took it out to save them from an R rating. They could have made this like Star 80. Oh, oh no, put that shotgun down.

‘Baby Wipes’ comes to collect the money for Mariah. Sigh. Do you remember when I said this movie was moving pretty quickly? Well scratch that. The pacing just ate shit and now we’re discussing Terrence ‘Baby Wipes’ Howard’s preferences for female cleanliness. Just Google ‘Terrence Howard’ and ‘Baby Wipes’ to read about what we’re talking about. Duder is a creep.

So the Diceman gets murdered. He sees ‘Baby Wipes’ beckoning to him in the street, walks up, and gets blown away. Thank God. Worst junkie without drugs ever. Dice, you will be missed. So Mariah gets a real producer and gets famous without the Dice. This story is so fucking generic and insufferable. I think that Mariah Carey’s real life story is probably more interesting than this shit. I am totally drained. Oh, the pain. I now completely regret ever wanting to watch this fucking bullshit. Sorry everyone.

Aftermath

The following day, I had a foul taste in the back of my mind. I had learned many, many things that fateful Saturday. For starters, the next time we do one of these Diva moviethons, there will be no movies rated R again. To say that watching Gigli and Swept Away with other people (including my wife’s good friend and her mother) humiliating and sickening is an understatement. Sorry kids, we will NOT be watching Body of Evidence.

So what else did I learn? Oh yeah, the other thing. The unexpected result of our ten hours of terror was that the world seemed a little brighter and prettier. I began to appreciate entertainment that comes without suffering. Any film that doesn’t make my soul vomit-cry is a masterpiece. I have a renewed appreciation for fluffy and silly things. At times like these, Fred Astaire is my favorite actor.

But there, in the distance, something is calling to me. I can just barely make out the voice of Olivia Newton John. She’s there with the cop, the construction worker, and the rest of the Village People. And Madonna is there too. And look how young she looks. Oh, she’s holding hands with Prince. And they’re calling me. What is it? What do you guys want?

Please note: I returned Crossroads and Glitter to Netflix (boy oh boy, those are going to screw up my recommendations from now on). I’m going to keep From Just to Kelly because it was so much terrible fun. But rest assured, good people, I destroyed my copies of Gigli and Swept Away. After tearing up the covers, I took a black magic marker to the data side of the discs. Then scratched them with my keys and tossed them out. I got both films used for around $3 apiece, so no great loss. Trust me, the world is now a better place.