What's Your Favorite Guilty Pleasure Movie?

In an earlier blog, I mentioned that, whenever I’m getting to know people, I love to exchange “most embarrassing moment” stories.  Not only is the process fun and revealing, it also comes in handy should one of you ever wish to extort the other.  Anyway, I was pleased by the feedback on that blog and particularly appreciated those of you who took the time to share with me your most embarrassing moments, too.  And aren’t we better friends for it?  

In any case, now it’s time to talk “guilty pleasure” movies.  Some of you might be asking yourselves, “What’s a guilty pleasure movie?”  Lest anyone be confused, I’ll do my best to define the term.  But, first, let me just say…

You’ve got ‘em.  I’ve got ‘em.  We’ve all got ‘em.  

A guilty pleasure movie is not a movie you love to hate.  Rather, it’s a movie you hate to love or, at the very least, to admit you love.  You know the ones… They’re the DVDs that you hide when people come over.  They’re the DVDs that you hide when even your best friends come over.  Why?  Because you just know that, if they see it on your shelf, they’ll think that something has gone seriously wrong with you and might even attempt to stage an intervention.  

All right, since this is my blog and since I want to be fair, I guess I have no choice but to go first… Drum roll please… OK, here goes:

It’s the Unrated Director’s Cut of the 1997 John Frankenheimer “classic”…



I’ll never forget the first time I saw this film.  I was in my last year of college in Dallas, TX.  My then-girlfriend and I went out for Mexican food, which was kind of our big Friday night ritual.  On this particular night, we ate at Mi Cocina, a Mexican joint down in the West End, which serves what are probably, to this day, the best frozen margaritas I’ve ever murdered.  Well, after about three or four of those bad boys, we staggered across the square and decided, on a whim, to catch a flick.  There wasn’t much playing that we hadn’t already seen, except for “The Island of Dr. Moreau.”  

David Thewlis, Val Kilmer, Marlon Brando, John Frankenheimer… How bad could it be, right?  

Pretty bad, as it turned out.  And yet, oddly compelling, as it also turned out.  Could it have been my state of mind at the time?  Maybe.  Could it have been the company?  Perhaps.  Could it have been that Marlon Brando wore an ice bucket on his head in one scene?  Hmm.  It’s hard to say why bad movies can sometimes be elevated to “guilty pleasure” status.  

Anyway, that’s mine.  What’s yours?

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