Thoughtless for the Day

Our search to find The Worst Film Ever Made about the Classical World has forced us to confront the very unpleasant reality that sometimes a movie is bad on a molecular level: which is to say that the very atoms that make up the celluloid it's printed on stink worse than an outhouse at a baked beans and pond scum pot luck dinner held at Mike Huckabee's church. Such is the case with Clash of the Titans.

To be honest, and I promise not to make a habit of that, I've only seen CotT once and that was a very long time ago (back in my teenage years when I was so happy to have HBO that I'd watch anything that turned up on it – including that movie in which Gallagher saves a girl from a cult), and all that I really remember about it was that it was bad.

So why then does CotT stink on a sub-atomic scale? It's certainly not due to the excellent claymation special effects created by the late Ray Harryhausen. So, is it the fact that the writers played fast and loose with Greek mythology (one of the central monsters* is taken from Norse mythology)? Is it the less-than-stellar acting turned in by the supporting cast? Is it the terribly bad writing? Well, yes, it's all of those things, but the real crime of CotT is that this is the movie from which most people under the age of forty know Sir Lawrence Oliver from. By way of a pinful example, one night Vienna and I were watching Rebecca when Vienna turned to me and said "Hey, isn't that the old guy from Clash of the Titans who ran around in a sheet and played with dolls?"

Just in case any of you had planned on a night of restful, nightmare-free, sleep, you should know that a remake of Clash of the Titans is scheduled for release in 2010. Zeusdamnit!

*To quote Lenny and Squigtones, "There are no gratuitous monsters in this movie. A monster only shows up when it's called for. Like, someone might say 'Hey, there's a monster.'"