Every week we ask folks around the CNET offices a question about pop culture. This week we wanted to know which movies they simply had to walk out of or turn off because they couldn't take it anymore.
I have to say Gothika. How Halle Berry could go from an Academy Award winner to this piece o' dreck is beyond me. Maybe she was tired out or just figured she could be in any film and it would be a masterpiece. Instead she phones it in, as does most of the cast. The plot holes are big enough to drive a Mack through and the exchange between Berry's character and the ghost of the kidnapped and tortured woman who possesses her is a perfect summation of the failure this movie is. Ghost: "This isn't logical, you're already dead." Berry: "Logic is overrated." Terrible.
Please avoid this movie at all costs. I had actually heard there was going to be a sequel. In a rare display of prudent thinking, the studio elected not to go ahead with it.
A few years ago I went to see a double feature of "Oculus" and "300: Rise of an Empire" at a drive-in theater. The first was a fairly respectable horror film, but about halfway into the "300" sequel, my friend and I couldn't take it anymore. It turns out it's reeeally easy to agree to "walk" out of a movie when you're already sitting in your car.
The last movie I remember walking out of (or driving, because like Rebecca I was at the local drive-in) was "Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials." It too was the second feature -- though I couldn't tell you what the first movie was (had to be better than this one though). Really bad acting, poorly written (easily half the dialogue was one or more characters yelling "GO! GO! GO!" as they fled from one pursuer or another), and just not very interesting. It seemed at times like a low-rent rip-off of "The Hunger Games."
My wife and I agreed, about an hour in, that this was just not worth our time, so we beat it.
The only movie I've ever walked out of was "Anger Management." Going in, I was a big fan of "Happy Gilmore," so Adam Sandler was OK by me, and Jack Nicholson doesn't do many bad movies. In other words, I thought it was a sure thing. Silly me.
The whole premise is ridiculous, with Buddy (Jack Nicholson) moving in with Dave (Adam Sandler) to give him intensive therapy for his anger issues. The writing was bad and the acting was so uninspired that it seemed Nicholson already knew it was going to be a flop.
As for the ending? Don't ask me. I walked the heck out about 45 minutes in.
I've walked out of only one movie -- and that's because my mom dragged me out. The 1993 Arnold Schwarzenegger film "Last Action Hero" seemed like a fun summer romp for me at 10 years old. I mean, a magic ticket sucked a boy into the movies? So movies can be real!? He gets to blow things up with Arnold AS HIS SIDEKICK?! COOOOOL! I don't remember much about the movie, other than it was a little weird at first and not very funny, BUT HEY, I WAS GOING TO GIVE IT A CHANCE, MOM. Sheesh.
We switched theaters and instead saw the second half of "Rookie of the Year." Yawn. So some kid magically is good at baseball because he broke his arm? Lame-O. Now we'll never know what happened to the movie kid. Thanks a lot, mom.
I'm not sure if this counts, but here's my answer. I try to make it a rule not to walk out of movies, but my friends and I had a good excuse for exiting action film "Executive Decision." It happened on one balmy summer day in 1996: We thought we were going to see Terry Gilliam's time-twister "Twelve Monkeys." We went back into the lobby to ask which screen "Twelve Monkeys" was playing on, only to learn that it wasn't on at all. We're not sure how the theater sold us tickets to the wrong flick, but we figured what the heck and returned to "Executive Decision" anyway. After Steven Seagal's surprise early exit, it turned out to be pretty fun. So one of the only times I've walked out of a movie, I promptly walked back in.
I watched "Sex and the City 2" during a flight, so I couldn't safely walk out, but I *did* turn it off. I occasionally enjoyed the TV show when it was on, but the movie was pure unbridled hate. It's not a romantic comedy as you might expect; it's a horror show of smug elitism that not only rested on crass stereotypes but dug deep into them. Add in one of the most unlikeable characters ever to grace our screens, Carrie Bradshaw, and you've got a film that should have been recognized as a national shame.
OK, so I've never actually walked out on a movie, but I've spent the last year and a half wishing I hadn't put myself through the entirety of "The Revenant." I kid you not. Was it a Good Movie? Sure. Was it also utterly punishing? Absolutely. Two and a half hours of Leonardo DiCaprio breathing heavily and prodding his wounds is not my idea of a fun Friday night. And if I could spare myself the mental image of his chapped lips covered in sores or whatever, you better believe I'd go back in time and drag myself out of the theater. Also, SO MUCH DROOL.