Like every good Christian, after death I fully expect to be stuck outside the gates of Heaven while God judges an embarrassing montage comprised of my most sordid private moments and transgressions. Doubtless, there will be clips of me watching the following films. To save time, I might as well start explaining.
Toys (1992)--Like a sloppy, attention-grabbing dog turd in the middle of an elegantly manicured garden, Robin Williams' presence in this film can never completely ruin its beautifully designed sets and carefully composed scenes.
Devil's Advocate (1997)--Like a bloated, immobile tick on a sleek Doberman, Keanu Reeves can never meaningfully affect Al Pacino's vivid, engaging role as the Devil, nor completely diffuse a few genuinely scary moments.
Blade (1998)--Like an underwear model behind the wheel of a racecar, Wesley Snipes might not know how to drive all that well, but he looks damn good trying. I apologize in advance for Kris Kristofferson's appearance, but ultimately this is a simple film that starts with a disco bloodbath and ends with hordes of vampires getting their asses kicked to dust.
Wild Things (1998)--Like a delicious frosting on a chocolatey cupcake, plenty of tits and gratuitous lesbian scenes can only enhance this noirish tale of corruption and revenge in sweaty Florida. As the credits roll, you'll realize you didn't have the plot's number after all. SEAN TEJARATCHI