When I first moved to Los Angeles, I was blown away with the Arclight theater in Hollywood on Sunset Boulevard. Amazing screens, great picture and sound, no commercials, limited trailers, and something novel to me: assigned seating. You could either show up and select your seats or, the way we roll in a post Year-Two-Thousaaaaand world, on the internet. And it was good. I could decide to see a movie on say, Thursday, buy tickets for Friday night, show up 5 minutes before the film started and have a good time. It became the only way to see movies for me. No getting to the theater early to stand in line to make sure I got good seats. I could just buy them early. All it took was a little forethought. In fact it was such a good idea and became so popular in LA that a lot of our theaters are reserved seating. And that’s kind of a bad thing.

Alec Baldwin is in the news again and it’s not for winning an award or doing worthwhile. No, like most times this Baldwin has been in the news the past five years, it’s because he’s being a baby. The horrid wrong that set him off this time? A most likely poorly written joke for the Emmys was cut, a joke that would have cut at Rupert Murdoch. Baby Baldwin is using his twitter privileges again to air his thoughts, complaining about Fox killing what he thought was the funniest joke – and insisting that his pre-taped segment not air. Fox agreed, and re-shot the sequence with Leonard Nimoy. This in and of itself isn’t totally rageworthy, but it does set me over the edge because I’m collectively tired of seeing Alec Baldwin bitching on the internet – and having people still love him.

John Carpenter’s The Thing may be among the greatest remakes of all time. It shares little with its predecessor, and actually calling it a remake may be unnecessary, as they’re both born from the novella Who Goes There? Anyway, let’s call it a remake – let’s not mince words, because if I did that now, the rest of my argument wouldn’t make much sense, because I’m calling out 2011′s The Thing for not copping to what it is. The thing is, it’s exactly what it seems like, unlike the alien in the movie, but the filmmakers just won’t admit their film is a remake. I mean, they sort of aren’t against calling it a re-something. Kind of. See, to them it’s a prequel. It tells the stories of the Norwegians, so it’s part of the canon. It can’t be a remake if it actually takes place in the storyline. It just becomes an installment of the franchise. Normally, that’s fine. Who cares? A prequel isn’t as good as a sequel, generally, but we regard it as a step up from a remake. But here’s the problem: watch the trailer for The Thing. This movie is a God damned remake and there ain’t no two ways about it.

If you’ve been fortunate enough to avoid this news until now, I’m sorry, it’s about to get shitty. George Lucas, in a move that surprises no one but angers anyone who’s ever seen Star Wars, has excessively tinkered with the movies in the saga, taking the beloved and dropping a pile of turds on it. It’s true Lucas has been wallowing in the sewage pool after tweaking the original movies in shitty ways (Greedo shoots first, Jabba looks like ass, etc) and making three bad movies to utterly destroy the awesome coolness that was Darth Vader and irreparably rupture the continuity of the franchise. Not content to stop there though, ol’ Georgie-poo has decided to add another notch to his bulbous neck by ignoring (mostly) fan outcry and amplifying the shit we already hate. Let’s break it down.

No matter what I say below, know this: I will see Shark Night 3D. There are no press screenings, no DVDs mailed to my home. I will head out to a theater to watch it because I love sharks and I love watching people get eaten by them. So to be extra clear: I haven’t seen the film yet. No one has. But still, I’m going to bitch about it, because that’s how I roll. Why? Well, because it’s easy to get mad at this film. It’s rated PG-13. I mean, if there ever was a title for a hard R-rating, it’s Shark Night 3D. After all, Piranha 3D, which was probably instrumental in green lighting this late entry to Shark Week, was well received because of its gore. Its nudity. Its generally over the top nature. Without Jerry O’Connell getting his dick bit off and two hot, naked women swimming for six minutes, that film is a pile of crap. The blood makes it – and the PG-13 rating for Shark Night might break it.

The other day I reached what one could consider the pinnacle of anger – Dr. Cole Abaius (retired) approached me about writing a Boiling Point about Netflix. Apparently the streaming and disc rental service got the good doctor angry and he did what any logical person would do – approached me to get even angrier on his behalf. At first I was somewhat reluctant to aim the anger rifle at Netflix. After all, I’ve been a subscriber for about six years and my experience has been mostly positive. For most of that six years, for a reasonable price you could get a lot of movies shipped to the comfort of your own home and later, even stream them right to your computer. But then, while using the official Netflix app, I became aware of many of its shortcomings and started getting angry. The floodgates opened – not only was I angry at the app, but I was angry at all of Netflix.

Following up on last week’s Boiling Point, we again return to the subject of movie theater etiquette. While last we talked I verbally abused those who would leave behind their trash, soiling the stadium seating of our cinemas, I turn now to a different villain. An often ignored villain. Everyone knows that talking during the movies makes you an asshole. So does using your cell phone in literally any capacity. But there is an unknown ass amongst us, one that would think himself a hero. I had the unfortunate experience of dealing with two such deviants at a screening of Attack the Block in Los Angeles some nights ago. This villain is known as the shusher.

Heading out to the movies is a magical experience, one we all treasure. Hopefully you have a good theater around, one where you can get a decent tub of popcorn without spending $19.75, plop into a soft, clean, cushioned seat and enjoy 117 minutes of uninterrupted entertainment, with great picture and perfect sound. If you can’t, I hope you at least can find a theater without any hypodermic needles stuck in the cushions. Either way, you settle in and enjoy the show. Munching on your nachos, eating fistfuls of buttery popcorn, sipping sugary soda, and slamming back Milk Duds. You’re transported to a magical world where a teen can swing on webs, a teen can be a wizard, and a teen can have worry-free unprotected sex – hey what the hell man, teens get away with a lot in movies these days. Then, thoroughly entertained, the lights come up. You scan the surrounding area. A veritable concession stand holocaust. Discarded cups in  holders. Popcorn strewn about the floor. Crumpled napkins everywhere. If you’re like me, you’re appalled. Shocked. Disgusted. You gather up your trash, mutter, toss it away. If, unlike me, you get up, leave your trash behind and don’t give a shit, you’re the asshole I’m writing about.

Now, before I even get close to making a point about where the love is in the film critic world, I know how absurd it may seem to talk about love in a column about hate. But as the saying goes, it’s a fine line between love and hate and all of my rage comes from a place of love. I love movies and film and art and entertainment. I get enraged when things I love are threatened. Whether it’s Evil Dead or the actual theater-going experience, I try to only get mad for reasonable things. I mean, I get unreasonably mad, that’s true, but generally with good intent in my heart. But it seems these days it’s hip to be an asshole. It’s cool to shit on things before we know anything about them. It’s one thing to get mad early once in awhile – like against the new Evil Dead – but it’s another to get mad about everything early. It seems like every day my Twitter feed is full of two things. First, news. Second, people hating it. Where is the love?

Listen, 3D is a contentious issue. Lots of people hate 3D and let it be known almost daily. I guess I get it. I mean, sometimes 3D is done poorly. Sometimes it’s annoying. It’s kind of a gimmick. Then again, there has been some good 3D, too. Transformers: Dark of the Moon looked amazing, Thor and Captain America were both well done, and plenty of movies from My Bloody Valentine 3D to the Final Destination films (recent ones) have been fun in 3D. We’re also moving into a new age of 3D, one where some of the most respected directors in the world are making 3D films. Peter Jackson, Steven Spielberg, James Cameron, Francis Ford Coppola, Ridley Scott, all the major players are going to play with 3D and many of them love it – like Ridley Scott who said, perhaps exaggeratedly, that he’d never make a film without 3D again. So, for now, 3D is here to stay and while it can be imperfect, often it’s fun. There is one instance, however, when the 3D kind of sucks no matter what.

If you tried, you could probably find a bigger Evil Dead fan than me. It might take a little bit, but you could. I mean, I’ve got my three T-Shirts, my Necronomicon copies of the movies on DVD in addition to several other versions, including Blu-ray transfers, I’ve got my toys, books, comics, and video games too. So while I’ll never claim to be the biggest Evil Dead fan, I can say I’m a pretty big one. For years I’ve waited on a continuation to the story. I remember my first experiencing watching the original movie at a sleepover. It was Steve’s house, but he fell asleep early after playing too much Command & Conquer. Only me and Matt were awake and he, no joke, got a boner from the tree rape scene. There was always something off about Matt. But it wasn’t long after that I found the second. I remember Army of Darkness in theaters. Everything Bruce Campbell wrote or said about the franchise, I ate up. Waiting to hear about Evil Dead 4. When talk turned to a remake instead of a continuation, I was upset but hopeful. Maybe Campbell would be in it. Maybe they would cast Seann William Scott and that wouldn’t be all that bad, would it? Now we have firm news that the Evil Dead reboot is moving forward – time to praise the lord? Hardly. What we know sucks and here’s why.

Science Fiction has seen somewhat of a resurgence these past few years, bringing dozens of different aliens to Earth’s surface via cinema screens. Tom Cruise battled aliens in War of the Worlds, aliens broke down in South Africa over District 9, and more recently Transformers waged war on our planet, Los Angeles was invaded, and a subterranean alien was interrogated in a small town, only to escape. No matter what year it happened, one thing is clear: when aliens come in peace, all is well. When they don’t, well, they’re the ones in for an ass whooping. Not that it makes much sense, considering alien species that manage to make it to Earth are often technologically advanced, super strong, intelligent, and sporting a massive boner for our resources, not to mention laser guns. Despite all of this, when have aliens ever managed a successful takeover? Not only that – when have aliens ever managed to not look like completely retarded asshats, who pretty much design their own downfall as if they were Death Star engineers?

Twitter is good for a few things, like telling the world what sandwich you’re eating, finding random hook-ups, or coordinating a revolution. But mostly, it’s for sharing your opinion and arguing against everyone and every-bot you can find. Since arguments are most often a result of anger and rage, we’ve merged the Inaugural Twitter Fight Round-Up with Boiling Point as a way of introducing it. In the future, we’ll consider shooting itself off into its own little column if we have enough ammunition – which we most likely will. This week we’ll take a look at arguments surrounding letter grades for movies, the R-Rating, and Game of Thrones’ Sean Bean. It’s also important to note that everyone we talk about (so far) is a friend. We’re not attempting to insult or reinvigorate the argument, but merely to use it as a starting point to more discussion and ultimately a verdict. So quit your crying.

Many people will come to the defense of outrageous events in movies and otherwise unbelievable activities by claiming movies are all about the “suspension of disbelief.” That’s why cars can turn into robots, animals can talk, heroes can surf anything to safety, and all the Jewish people rode unicorns to Israel at the end of Schindler’s List. See, that last one is a joke about how not all movies are about the suspension of disbelief. Sometimes movies make a greater impact by maintaining a thread of realism throughout. No, Die Hard isn’t the most realistic film in the world, but when a shoeless McClane has to run over broken glass, you can relate to “that must fucking hurt” because you can see it affects him for the next ten minutes of the movie. In movie time that’s like 8 years, so it’s no wonder he’s back to running and jumping by the end of the film. While I’m the first to admit I enjoy action films where a commando can jump from a plane flying 150mph and fall 300 feet into a swamp and be fine, there are a few minor movie injuries that bug the shit out of me.

Apparently the MTV Movie Awards happened Sunday night. If this is something you care about, enjoy your summer break. It’s a big step to High School this fall. While perusing Twitter to see if anyone had retweeted the cool things I say (they hadn’t, because I don’t say cool things), I noticed a fair amount of people and peers complaining about the dominance of Twilight, which won a shit ton of awards alongside Harry Potter and Justin Bieber. I’m sure Hot Topic also unofficially won “Best Store.” There is a very simple way to view the MTV Movie Awards and MTV itself. Ask yourself this question: Am I 16 years old? If you answered ‘yes’ to this question, congratulations, go about your day. If you answered ‘no’ to this question and you spent more than 30 seconds thinking about the results of the movie awards, pour hot cocoa on your nipples – male or female, I don’t care. Do it. For the past twenty years, MTV hasn’t been relevant to anyone who isn’t 16 or the parent of a 16 year old, and that’s a travesty.

Pointing out the flaws in Hollywood is easy – there are hundreds of them. Unfortunately for the entertainment system, I’m a fan of taking the low road and always pointing those flaws out. After all, it’s not easy to be mad every week without taking a few cheap shots. A child of the 80s, I’m a big fan of action. Guns, knives, swords, bullets, punches, jump kicks, Van Damme, you name it, I dig it. Hell, I’ll watch the shitty UFC/WWE vehicle movies that go straight to DVD just to see somewhere get punched in the eye socket. You’d think action movies would be easy to make and send to theaters. Toss in some fireballs, some blood, some roundhouse kicks – easy, right? Apparently not. I mean, sure, we get good action films every now and then, maybe even once a month – but how many more just fall flat? What’s wrong with Hollywood and action movies when one of the best, if not the best, action movies so far is the animated Kung Fu Panda 2?

News came over the last couple of days that former visionary director/current enviro-geek James Cameron was going to, instead of directing a new film (wouldn’t want to accidentally make two in a decade), spend millions of dollars and millions of seconds painstakingly bringing 1997s short film Titanic back to the screens, this time in three dimensions. In case you weren’t alive between 1997 and 1999, where Titanic stayed in theaters for a full year, the story has something to do with a boat, a gem, and freezing to death. I’m sure that if you’re reading this site you’ve either seen Titanic or know enough about it to know that you didn’t want to watch it. I have seen it and have no desire to see it again. It’s not a bad film, but it is long as hell and a bit on the melodramatic side. Aside from being responsible for turning Leonardo DiCaprio into a household name and making all my ex-girlfriends put posters of him on their walls, what could be wrong with Titanic coming back to the big screen? Simply put, Titanic 3D is everything wrong with Hollywood in a tight 194 minute package.

Sorry Wonder Woman fans, but the patriotically clad superheroine won’t be coming to television screens anytime soon, at least not on NBC. Considering how all the other networks passed on the project from the start, I’m not sure there’s any network left for it, unless the CW wanted to weaken its line-up. Zing. As nerds on the internet, it is our job to question why this show was canceled. After all, we love comics and we love TV, so there you go. After many seconds of deep, introspective thought, I figured out why Wonder Woman won’t be appearing on any screen in the near future. Wonder Woman sucks, that’s why.

I, like many people, went out to see Fast Five and be dazzled by its complex plot and characterizations. Just kidding, I went to see shit get blown up, crashed, smashed, and shot. I was pretty excited to see two separated-at-birth meatheads, Vin Diesel and Dwayne Johnson, smash sweaty brows into each other. While the racing is always cool, I think this is the installment where the physical action really shines through. The gun fights and the fist fights were both more exciting than any of the driving. And while enjoying The Rock and Vin Diesel try to lay the smack down on each other, I got to thinking: why isn’t The Rock a bigger star? I mean, who cares about Vin Diesel? Just kidding. Vin Diesel is fine too. But really I was thinking about Dwayne Johnson. Do you smell what he’s cooking? I don’t think so, because he hasn’t been in nearly enough films. Right?

Ah summer. It is finally upon us. Okay, technically, in scientific terms, summer doesn’t begin until June, but in movie season, May is summer. Suck it, scientists. Summer brings many wonderful things: warmth, trips to the beach, drinking in the daylight, bikinis, and summer blockbusters. Unfortunately, summer also brings many terrible things: crippling heat, overcrowded beaches, drunken idiots, fatties in small swimsuits, and summer blockbusters. See, it’s a joke – some summer blockbusters are awesome, some are terrible. All of them, however, are designed to be fun, something many in the critical community can abide or swallow without gagging. Soon you’ll start seeing phrases like “a real summer movie” or “mindless summer fun.” You know what I call movies like that? Regular fun.