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An Open Letter to Uwe Boll (Semi-serious)
13 years ago
Stay tuned for a totally unimportant announcement!
Dear Uwe Boll:
I am disappointed in you.
No, no, I am not disappointed in you because your movies suck. No, my disappointment runs deeper than that. It is an established consensus, I think, that your special talent in this life is making shitty movies. If you were a little pony, your cutie mark would be a film reel with a big long dog turd spooled upon it. Now you may ask, "Mein sexlich Drache, for what other reason would you be disappointed in me other than you can't comprehend how great my films are?" The answer, my egotistical friend, is quite simple:
You are squandering your true potential.
All this time, you have kept yourself in perpetual denial. Every day, you assure yourself that you are some profound artist, bringing video games to the silver screen so that your beloved fans may marvel at your brilliance. You know how you can get Michael Bay to stop making fun of you? It's really quite easy. The instant you stop taking yourself so seriously--the instant you admit that you suck as a director--people will love you.
You see, there is this perverse pleasure we, the moviegoers, take in watching a movie we KNOW is going to suck. Let's take, for example, one of your only "successful" films to date, an early one. House of the Dead has a loyal cult following by fans of the "so bad it's good" genre. They enjoy your film not because they think it's clever or original; they enjoy it because of how unintentionally hilarious it is. Most of those 80s horror flicks? People enjoy them for the same reason. It's why people love the first Evil Dead movie so much (aside from the fact that it lead to the truly epic Evil Dead 2).
Horror movies, the cheap kind, as a general rule are doomed to suck. It is incredibly difficult to invoke true fear in a moviegoer, especially one that's lived through the Hell that is modern life. Therefore, it behooves the aspiring horror director to not worry so much about being serious with their scares, because the bar is set so high that only one out of a thousand screenwriters and directors will be able to make something truly scary. As another example, let's take Peter Jackson's first blockbuster film, Braindead/Dead Alive. It's not scary at all, but people adore it. Why? Because he knew he was not his generation's Hideo Nakata, he accepted it, and he had fun with it. What he delivered was a ridiculously over-the-top splatstick extravaganza that is positively horrid from an objective standpoint, but has attracted people from all walks of life in the past, present, and assuredly the future.
That's the lesson I'd hope you take away from this, Herr Boll (but I know you won't). Don't think of yourself as the next great artist of his time. Just go out there, make a goddamn film, and have some fun while doing it. Let the actors and the writers have fun with it too. Know that it's going to suck. Enjoy its suckiness. Don't force jokes, let them come through unintentional hilarity. Your film should only have a very thin outer layer of seriousness, but underneath it should know exactly what it is and revel in it. It's the kind of film that let's a badass character stand up and proudly proclaim "This is my boomstick!" We eat that shit up, because of how awesomely bad it is. That, in its own regard, can make you the great director you wish you were. It's why we still remember and cherish Ed Wood; he's the official guide to what NOT to do when making a serious movie.
So Uwe, my homie, my main man. Know that you suck. Love that you suck. You're already halfway there with your complete lack of shame. Now all that's left is to learn to laugh at yourself and your hackiness. I guarantee that you will have a nice, juicy cult following to enjoy. There's potential in you, so go out there and be the worst damn director you can be!
I am disappointed in you.
No, no, I am not disappointed in you because your movies suck. No, my disappointment runs deeper than that. It is an established consensus, I think, that your special talent in this life is making shitty movies. If you were a little pony, your cutie mark would be a film reel with a big long dog turd spooled upon it. Now you may ask, "Mein sexlich Drache, for what other reason would you be disappointed in me other than you can't comprehend how great my films are?" The answer, my egotistical friend, is quite simple:
You are squandering your true potential.
All this time, you have kept yourself in perpetual denial. Every day, you assure yourself that you are some profound artist, bringing video games to the silver screen so that your beloved fans may marvel at your brilliance. You know how you can get Michael Bay to stop making fun of you? It's really quite easy. The instant you stop taking yourself so seriously--the instant you admit that you suck as a director--people will love you.
You see, there is this perverse pleasure we, the moviegoers, take in watching a movie we KNOW is going to suck. Let's take, for example, one of your only "successful" films to date, an early one. House of the Dead has a loyal cult following by fans of the "so bad it's good" genre. They enjoy your film not because they think it's clever or original; they enjoy it because of how unintentionally hilarious it is. Most of those 80s horror flicks? People enjoy them for the same reason. It's why people love the first Evil Dead movie so much (aside from the fact that it lead to the truly epic Evil Dead 2).
Horror movies, the cheap kind, as a general rule are doomed to suck. It is incredibly difficult to invoke true fear in a moviegoer, especially one that's lived through the Hell that is modern life. Therefore, it behooves the aspiring horror director to not worry so much about being serious with their scares, because the bar is set so high that only one out of a thousand screenwriters and directors will be able to make something truly scary. As another example, let's take Peter Jackson's first blockbuster film, Braindead/Dead Alive. It's not scary at all, but people adore it. Why? Because he knew he was not his generation's Hideo Nakata, he accepted it, and he had fun with it. What he delivered was a ridiculously over-the-top splatstick extravaganza that is positively horrid from an objective standpoint, but has attracted people from all walks of life in the past, present, and assuredly the future.
That's the lesson I'd hope you take away from this, Herr Boll (but I know you won't). Don't think of yourself as the next great artist of his time. Just go out there, make a goddamn film, and have some fun while doing it. Let the actors and the writers have fun with it too. Know that it's going to suck. Enjoy its suckiness. Don't force jokes, let them come through unintentional hilarity. Your film should only have a very thin outer layer of seriousness, but underneath it should know exactly what it is and revel in it. It's the kind of film that let's a badass character stand up and proudly proclaim "This is my boomstick!" We eat that shit up, because of how awesomely bad it is. That, in its own regard, can make you the great director you wish you were. It's why we still remember and cherish Ed Wood; he's the official guide to what NOT to do when making a serious movie.
So Uwe, my homie, my main man. Know that you suck. Love that you suck. You're already halfway there with your complete lack of shame. Now all that's left is to learn to laugh at yourself and your hackiness. I guarantee that you will have a nice, juicy cult following to enjoy. There's potential in you, so go out there and be the worst damn director you can be!
