Guilty Pleasure No. 90: Ice Station Zebra (dir. by John Sturges)

Posted on November 29, 2025 by Arleigh

Ice Station Zebra, directed by John Sturges in 1968, slides into guilty pleasure territory like a submarine slipping under polar ice—full of big Cold War ambitions, shadowy spy games, and submarine peril that tease something epic, but so loaded with pacing hiccups, studio shortcuts, and earnest overreach that it ends up a lopsided, lovably messy ride. Sturges had already cemented his rep with crowd-roaring hits like The Magnificent Seven, where a ragtag posse of gunslingers delivered razor-sharp tension and quotable showdowns, or The Great Escape, a WWII breakout yarn crackling with clever schemes, sweaty escapes, and Steve McQueen’s motorcycle glory. Those films moved like a well-oiled engine, every scene stacking stakes and character beats into unforgettable momentum. By contrast, Ice Station Zebra feels like Sturges chasing that same high-wire ensemble vibe—a U.S. nuclear sub, the USS Tigerfish, barreling toward a trashed Arctic outpost—but bloating into a 148-minute sprawl that swaps tight plotting for endless red-lit corridor glares and withheld mission secrets. It’s not in the same league as his earlier triumphs, lacking their propulsive drive and lived-in grit, yet that very shortfall turns it into quirky comfort viewing for fans who dig flawed ’60s spectacle.

The setup hooks you quick: Commander James Ferraday, Rock Hudson’s square-jawed everyman at the helm, gets tapped for a hush-hush run to Ice Station Zebra after a satellite supposedly carrying spy photos crashes nearby. No full briefing for him, just orders to play it cool while three mystery passengers board—Mr. Jones, a buttoned-up British agent with evasive smirks; Boris Vaslov, Ernest Borgnine’s barrel-chested Russian turncoat oozing fake bonhomie; and Captain Anders, Jim Brown’s steely Marine barking orders over a squad of jarheads. As the Tigerfish dives under thickening ice floes, the sub’s innards come alive with flickering sonar pings, steam-hissing valves, and crewmen hunched over gauges in perpetual sweat. It’s claustrophobic gold at first, the hull creaking like it’s got a bad case of frostbite, echoing the trapped dread Sturges nailed in his POW camp classic but without the same spark of rebellion. Then sabotage strikes—a flooded missile bay, a wild plunge toward crush depth—and fingers start pointing. Who tampered with the ballast? Jones with his locked trunk of gadgets? Vaslov’s too-friendly vodka toasts? The Marines itching for a fight? The scene builds real sweat, divers suiting up in the nick of time, but Sturges lets the fallout drag, turning interrogation into a tea party of suspicions rather than the cutthroat blame game his best films thrived on.

These early stumbles set the tone for a film that’s promising yet perpetually off-kilter, far from the seamless revenge rhythm of The Magnificent Seven‘s dusty trails. Production fingerprints show everywhere: rumors swirl of Navy brass forcing script tweaks to glorify their boats, last-minute casting shifts from bigger names to Hudson, and a roadshow rollout with overture, intermission, and 70mm pomp that screams overambition. The Arctic plunge delivers tense highlights—the sub ramming upward through ice chunks like a whale breaching, sparks flying from shorted panels, crew barking damage reports—but lulls follow with tech jargon dumps and characters circling motives without committing to conflict. Hudson anchors it all with unflappable poise, barking commands like a TV dad in a crisis, but he lacks McQueen’s sly charisma or Yul Brynner’s brooding fire. Borgnine hams it up as Vaslov, his accent flipping from gravelly growl to vaudeville schtick during mess-hall ribbing, while McGoohan brings the sharpest edge as Jones, his dry barbs hinting at deeper layers. Brown’s Anders gets muscle but little nuance, leading a Marine crew that feels like stock tough guys waiting for their cue.

Pushing topside, the flaws bloom into full charm. The ice cap arrival unfolds in sweeping widescreen vistas—endless white expanses, howling gales whipping snow devils—but close-quarters betray the soundstage: actors plodding through “blizzards” in lightweight jackets, no puffing breath in the deep freeze, sets that wobble if you squint. It’s the kind of earnest cheesiness that sinks modern blockbusters but endears this relic, especially when the station siege erupts. Soviets drop from the sky in parachutes like deadly snowflakes, scouring the charred ruins for a buried film capsule packed with NATO missile coords. Americans fan out in white camo, trading potshots amid smoke grenades and collapsing tunnels, loyalties cracking as Vaslov’s true colors flash. Ferraday’s cool bluff seals a three-way stalemate, denying everyone the prize in a nod to mutually assured secrets. Michel Legrand’s score surges here, horns blaring over the chaos like a war drum, giving Sturges’ action chops a late workout. Yet even this payoff sprawls, talky standoffs eating screen time where his peak films would’ve sprinted to the finish.

What seals Ice Station Zebra‘s guilty pleasure status is embracing its dated quirks as features, not bugs—hammy all-male bravado, Cold War jitters turned quaint, plot gaps you could park a destroyer in. Sturges conjures submerged panic and frosty fireworks that nod to his glory days, the sub’s practical effects holding up better than some CGI today, but without the narrative steel of The Great Escape‘s tunnel triumphs or The Magnificent Seven‘s mythic standoffs, it coasts on atmosphere over precision. Clocking 148 minutes, it tests patience with filler like extended sail sequences and coy reveals, yet rewards surrender: grin at Borgnine’s bear hugs masking menace, chuckle at the Navy polish glossing gritty potential, savor the sheer balls of staging Arctic Armageddon on a backlot. Howard Hughes reportedly looped it endlessly in his casino screening rooms, and you get why—it’s hypnotic in its wonkiness, a time capsule of late-’60s Hollywood flexing before New Wave grit crashed the party.

Pop this on a stormy night with cocoa and zero expectations, and Ice Station Zebra shines as cozy flawed fun. Sturges’ touch keeps the chills coming amid the clunkers, delivering submarine squeezes, betrayals under the aurora, and a finale with enough brinkmanship bang to forgive the bloat. It’s no peer to his earlier masterpieces, more a quirky footnote, but that’s the hook: imperfect promise wrapped in icy spectacle, begging a rewatch to spot every goofy grace note. For ’60s thriller buffs, submarine nuts, or anyone needing a break from slick reboots, it’s a frosty, flawed feast worth the dive.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasure No. 89: Highschool of the Dead (dir. by Tetsurō Araki)

Posted on November 13, 2025 by Arleigh

Highschool of the Dead is that wild, over-the-top anime that combines your typical zombie apocalypse survival story with a heavy dose of ecchi fanservice and ridiculous fun. The 12-episode series bursts onto the scene with a gang of Japanese high school students trying to stay alive during a sudden zombie outbreak. The show doesn’t waste time explaining how the zombies came to be — it just tosses you straight into the chaos, and honestly, that’s part of the charm.

The main crew is pretty memorable: Takashi Komuro, the guy reluctantly trying to keep everyone alive while having a crush on Rei Miyamoto; Saeko Busujima, the super cool and mysteriously dark girl who quickly became a fan favorite (and cosplay icon); Saya Takagi, the sharp-witted brainiac; Kohta Hirano, a gun-loving otaku; Shizuka Marikawa, the very adult yet hilariously ditzy school nurse; and little Arisu Marikawa with her adorable, zombie-alert puppy Zeke. This group quickly becomes your ragtag team of survivalists… and eye candy.

Now, let’s get to the heart of Highschool of the Dead — the fanservice. This show is basically a non-stop fanservice marathon, from cheeky panty shots to impossibly large breasts bouncing with wild abandon. If you’re looking for subtlety, sorry, this isn’t the show for you. But if you want ridiculous, unapologetic ecchi mixed with zombie carnage, this anime has got you covered. That infamous “Matrix Boobs” scene? Pure hypnotic, absurd fun and the perfect example of what this anime loves to deliver. These moments are so exaggerated, it’s like the anime knows exactly how nuts it is and just leans into it with a big grin.

Beyond the boobs and butt shots, Highschool of the Dead actually throws in some interesting commentary on human nature in disaster. Sure, zombies are the monsters outside, but the real danger might be the surviving humans themselves, who reveal all kinds of ugly, selfish, and sometimes heroic traits. The teenagers actually fare better than most adults who either panic or take advantage of the chaos — except for the right-wing extremist who surprisingly keeps order with a strict but effective approach. It’s crazy but adds a layer of unexpected depth beneath all the fanservice.

The characters aren’t just there for eye candy either. Komuro isn’t your overly confident anime hero but comes across as a likable, grounded guy. Saeko’s combination of calm, deadly skill and mysterious backstory makes her stand out. Kohta’s military geek side provides a lot of the show’s practical survival know-how, and the occasional comic relief too. The mix of serious struggle and ridiculous fanservice moments makes for a weirdly balanced rollercoaster of tone that keeps you hooked.

Visually, the anime shines with clean, high-quality animation by Madhouse that does a great job blending traditional and CGI elements. You get detailed zombie action and clear, pretty character designs that maximize those fanservice shots. It’s not just about the fanservice — the blood, gore, and zombie fights have their own gritty appeal that balances the show’s lighter, sexier moments. The animation style definitely knows what it’s doing: keep things stylish and eye-catching whether it’s a brutal attack or a cheeky panty shot.

The series also leans into some grindhouse and exploitation vibes, with episode titles like Spring of the Dead and All Deads Attack feeling like throwbacks to 1970s B-movie horror flicks. It’s this blend of horror, action, and exploitation that gives the show its unique flavor. And even though it’s mostly fanservice pandering, it manages to keep a pretty good pace and doesn’t get boring, zipping through the story with lots of action and humor. That “Matrix Boob Physics” meme that went viral years back

While the manga that inspired the series goes deeper and cuts back on fanservice in later chapters, the anime stays firmly in the realm of ridiculous fun with its mix of horror and ecchi. It’s not high art or groundbreaking storytelling, and it would never be mistaken for such. Instead, Highschool of the Dead proudly wears its “guilty pleasure” badge, knowing full well it’s an unapologetically silly, over-the-top romp that doesn’t shy away from the fact that it’s made to entertain and tease rather than inspire or provoke deep thought.

For those who enjoy a wild ride packed with boobs, bullets, and brain-munching zombies, Highschool of the Dead is a perfect guilty pleasure that embraces its identity. It’s a weird mashup that knows it’s silly and really loves having a good time with its audience.

Highschool of the Dead is a wild, ecchi-fueled zombie apocalypse romp that’s totally ridiculous in all the best ways. The show rides the line between horror and parody, serving up enough fanservice moments to satisfy anyone who loves their anime with a side of absurdity and cleavage. Not for everyone, but if you like your zombie stories with a lot of bounce and a wink, this one’s definitely worth a look.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Horror Pleasure #87: The ‘Burbs (dir by Joe Dante)

Posted on October 20, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

1989’s The ‘Burbs takes place in …. well, it’s right there in the title.

Welcome to the suburbs! It’s place with big houses, green lawns, and neighbors who often don’t have much to do other than watch each other and gossip. Ray Peterson (Tom Hanks) lives with his wife, Carol (Carrie Fisher), and is friends with Art Weingartner (Rick Ducommun) and Mark Rumsfield (Bruce Dern). Ricky Butler (Corey Feldman) is the local teenager. It’s a nice neighborhood …. at least, until the Klopeks move in.

The Klopeks are viewed with suspicion from the minute they show up. They’re from a different country, they always seem to be burying something in their backyard, and Dr. Werner Klopek (Henry Gibson) is oddly stand-offish. When Walter Seznick (Gale Gordon) disappears and the the Klopeks are seen around Walter’s house and with Walter’s dog, Ray and his friends start to suspect that their new neighbors might be ritualistic murderers!

Oh, how I love The ‘Burbs. The film’s portrait of the suburbs as being a hotbed of paranoia may be a familiar one but it doesn’t matter when you’ve got actors like Tom Hanks and Bruce Dern throwing themselves into their roles. As always, Hanks is the glue that holds the film and its disparate parts together, giving a likable performance as a man who goes from being the voice of reason to being convinced that his neighbors are cannibals. Bruce Dern gleefully sends up his own image as a paranoid Vietnam vet but there’s also a sweetness to Dern’s performance that really makes it stand out. Dern’s character might be a little crazy but he does truly care about his neighbors.

Just as he did with Piranha and The Howling, Dante balances humor with suspense. He does such a good job of telling the story and getting good performances from his cast, that even the film’s big twist works far better than one might expect. It’s an 80s film so, of course, a few things explode towards the end of it. The film’s character-based humor is replaced with some broader jokes but no matter. The Burbs is an entertaining trip to the heart of suburban paranoia.

As the saying goes, just because you’re paranoid, that doesn’t mean that they aren’t out to get you.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasure #86: The Horror at 37,000 Feet (dir by David Lowell Rich)

Posted on October 9, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

I imagine that it should go without saying that, if you’re on an airplane and you’re flying high above the ground, the last thing that you want to deal with is a bunch of angry ghost druids.

And yet, that’s exactly what happens in this made-for-TV horror film from 1973.

The ghost druids are upset because two architects (played by Roy Thinnes and Jane Merrow) have traveled to England, specifically so that they can supervise the deconstruction of ancient druid altar. Now, they’re flying the pieces of the altar back over the ocean so that the altar can be reconstructed in the United States. The spirits of the ancient druids aren’t happy about being moved so they start doing everything they can to make the journey difficult.

First, they attempt to freeze the plane. When that doesn’t work, they decide to rip it in half. One of the passengers, Mrs. Pinder (Tammy Grimes), suggests that maybe the druids will settle down if they’re offered a sacrifice. When the druids reject an offer of a doll, the passengers start to wonder if maybe the spirits would be happier with a human sacrifice.

Although some of the passengers are reluctant to buy into the whole sacrifice thing, a few of them do start to come around. For instance, there’s a perpetually angry businessman who is played by Buddy Ebsen. Once he realizes that the druids aren’t going anywhere, he has no problem with the idea of a human sacrifice. There’s also a cowboy played by Will Hutchins. If sacrificing a human is what he has to do to have another chance to ride the range, that’s what he’s going to do. Paul Winfield plays a distinguished doctor who tries to keep everyone calm while Chuck Connors is stuck in the cockpit, trying to keep the plane in the air while his passengers and crew debate the ethics of human sacrifice.

And then there’s William Shatner.

Shatner plays a former priest who has lost his faith. From the minute he gets on the plane, he starts drinking and he doesn’t stop for almost the entire movie. It doesn’t matter what’s happening on the plane, Shatner always has a glass in his hand. Playing a character who never has anything positive to say, Shatner smirks through the entire film. Shatner delivers all of his lines in his standard halfting and overdramatic fashion and it’s something of a wonder to behold. Shatner has said that The Horror At 37,000 Feet may be the worst movie in which he ever appeared and just one look at his filmography will show why this is such a bold statement.

The Horror at 37,000 Feet is definitely a film of its time. The plane comes complete with a swinging cocktail lounge, William Shatner wears a turtle neck, and all of the flight attendants wear boots and miniskirts. Everything about this film screams 1973. It’s an incredibly silly but undeniably fun movie. With a running time of only 73 minutes, the pace is fast and the druids don’t waste any time getting down to business. The film’s on YouTube so check it out the next time you’ve an hour and 13 minutes to kill.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasure #85: Attack of the Killer Tomatoes (dir by John DeBello)

Posted on October 3, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 1978 film, Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, opens with a title card that would make James Nguyen proud. It informs us that people laughed when they first watched a film called The Birds. Then, years later, a flock of birds went mad and started attacking people. No one is laughing now.

As for the rest of the film, it opens with a housewife being menaced by a giant tomato and then it just keeps rolling on from there. Something is causing normal, everyday tomatoes to go on a rampage and no one can figure out what. The government is powerless. (The government’s competence is best exemplified by a scene where a helicopter crashes. Reportedly, the helicopter crash was not scripted but the film’s director decided to keep the scene anyway.) The president puts Mason Dixon (David Miller) in charge of defeating the tomatoes.

The film is one gag and one song after another. Mason has a group of eccentric people working for him, including a superstar gymnast and a man who is always dragging a parachute behind him. The streets are soon running red with tomato juice while clueless teenagers continue to listen to absolutely terrible song called Puberty Love….

In the past, I’ve struggled to define how a pleasure can be guilty but I think Attack of the Killer Tomatoes is actually one of the rare films that truly can live up to the label. It’s a pleasure because it’s just so silly and cheerfully stupid that it’s hard not to smile at it. It’s guilty because, premise aide, the film itself is never really as funny as you want it to be. Comedy — even when its something as silly as this film — is all about timing and Attack of the Killer Tomatoes never nails the timing of its gags. Instead, it plays out like a stoned daydream, amusing to talk about but a bit boring to actually witness.

That said, the film deserves some sort of award for its title and also for going on to inspire not only a few sequels but also a cartoon series. Producer Stephen Peace went on to have a successful career in California politics. Good for him.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasure No. 84: Last Action Hero (dir by John McTiernan)

Posted on July 30, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Oh, Last Action Hero.

Ever since this film was first released in 1993, it’s usually held up as an example of a Hollywood fiasco. The script was originally written to be a modest satire of action films. The screenwriters wrote the character of Jack Slater, an movie action hero who comes into the real world, for Dolph Lundgren. Instead, the film became an Arnold Schwarzenegger extravaganza and the studio ended up tossing a ton of money at it. When the film was originally released, the reviews were mixed and the box office was considered to be disappointing. (That it went up against the first Jurassic Park was definitely an underrated issue when it came to the box office.) Ever since then, The Last Action Hero has had a reputation for being a bad film.

Well, I don’t care. I like The Last Action Hero. Yes, it’s a bit overproduced for a comedy. (It breaks my own rule about how no comedy should run longer than two hours.) Yes, it gets a bit sentimental with ten year-old Danny Madigan (Austin O’Brien) using a magic, golden ticket to enter the film world of his hero, Jack Slater. If you want to argue that the film should have devoted more time to and gone a bit deeper into contrasting the film world with the real world, I won’t disagree with you. But I will also say that Sylvester Stallone starring as The Terminator in Jack’s world was actually a pretty funny sight gag. Danny knowing better than to trust a character played by F. Murray Abraham made me laugh. Danny’s fantasy in which Arnold Schwarzenegger played Hamlet was made all the better by the fact that his teacher was played by Laurence Olivier’s wife, Joan Plowright. Danny DeVito as Whiskers the Cartoon Cat makes me laugh as well, even if it is perhaps a bit too bizarre of a joke for this particular film. (There’s nothing else about the Jack Slater films that would explain the presence of a cartoon cat.)

When you set aside the idea of the Last Action Hero being a symbol of Hollywood bloat and just watch it as a film, it emerges as an enjoyably goofy action movie, one that captures the joy of watching movies (because who hasn’t wanted to enter a movie’s world at some point in their life), and also one that features a rather charming performance from Arnold Schwarzenegger. (Schwarzenegger, I should add, plays both himself and Jack Slater. One of my favorite jokes is when the real Schwarzenegger is at a premiere and he mistakes the evil Ripper for Tom Noonan, the actor who played him in the previous Jack Slater film.) Yeah, the golden ticket is a little bit hokey but who cares? Underneath all of the special effects and action and money spent on star salaries, Last Action Hero is an action movie and comedy with a heart. Danny meets his hero but also gets to become a hero himself. And Jack Slater turns out to be everything you would hope your movie hero would be. In the end, it’s obvious that a lot of the criticism of this film has more to do with the appeal of riding the bandwagon as opposed to what actually happens on screen.

Last Action Hero is a movie that I’ll happily defend.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasure No. 83: Meteor (dir by Ronald Neame)

Posted on May 16, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

1979’s Meteor is about a big rock that is tumbling through space. Earth is directly in its path and, if it hits the planet, it could be an extinction-level event. Unfortunately, little bits of the rock keep breaking off and crashing into Earth, destroying cities and fleeing extras. Goodbye, Hong Kong. Goodbye, Switzerland, which is destroyed via stock footage lifted from Avalanche. Goodbye, New York, which blows up in such spectacular fashion that the scene was later re-used in The Day After.

It might seem like the planet is doomed. The meteor is unstoppable. Bruce Willis hasn’t become a star yet. But fear not! Some of the brightest faces of the 70s have been recruited to stop the meteor. Natalie Wood, in one of her final films, plays a translator and gets covered in muddy river water. Sean Connery wears a turtleneck and curses in that Scottish way of his. Karl Malden wears a hat and tells people to calm down while he calls the President. Brian Keith plays a Russian with all the grace and skill of a cat trying to rip open a bag of treats. Martin Landau is the military official who doesn’t think that the scientist know what they’re talking about. Henry Fonda is the president. That’s a lot of balding men for one movie and it’s hard not to notice that both Malden and Keith often seem to be wearing a hat whenever they share a scene with Connery. My personal theory is that the production, having spent all of their money on blowing up New York, couldn’t afford more than two toupees so everyone had to take turns wearing them. (The few scenes where Malden is hatless while in Connery’s presence are often oddly filmed, with either Connery on Malden standing with their back to the camera, almost as if the scenes were actually done with a stand-in.)

We’re supposed to breathe a sigh of relief when we see that Henry Fonda is playing the President but I’ve seen Fail Safe and I remember him allowing the Russian to nuke New York City. Interestingly enough, New York gets destroyed in this film too. Why didn’t President Fonda care about New York City? Of course, the scientists and the military folks are all located in a control center that’s located under the city. Malden mentions that they’re right next to the Hudson River. It doesn’t seem to occur to anyone that this is a bad idea but, then again, they also elected Henry Fonda president again.

My late friend and colleague Gary Loggins described Meteor as being a “crashing bore.” I have to admit that this is one of the few times that I have ever disagreed with Gary. Meteor is a tremendous amount of fun, as long as you’re watching it with a group of people and nobody takes it seriously. (The first time I saw it was at one in the morning while I was in college. Jeff and I watched it in the lounge of one of the dorms. We may be the only two people to have romantic memories of Meteor.) Meteor features a cast of champion scenery chewers. Karl Malden, Sean Connery, Martin Landau, Brian Keith, none of them were exactly subtle actors and giving them an excuse to argue about how to deal with a meteor allows for a lot of very enjoyable overacting. As well, the special effects are so cheap and obviously fake that it’s hard not to laugh out loud whenever the film cuts to that shot of the meteor rolling through space or the incredibly shiny American and Russian missiles slowly heading towards it.

Meteor’s a lot of fun, even if it is one of those movies where no one points out that our heroes inevitably seem to make every situation worse with their own stupidity. It’s very much at the tail-end of the 70s disaster boom. Watch it for the stars. Watch it for the rock. And watch it for the hairpieces.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasure No. 81: The Replacements (dir by Howard Deutch)

Posted on May 1, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

2000’s The Replacements finds America in crisis!

With the season already underway, football players are going on strike! They want better contracts. They want more money. They want …. well, they want a lot of stuff. Meanwhile, the fans just want to know who is going to make the playoffs. There are only four games left in the season and the Washington Sentinels need to win three of them to make it into the playoffs. The owner of the team (Jack Warden) recruits burned-out coach McGinty (Gene Hackman) to take over a team that will be made up of replacement players. McGinty says that he wants to pick his own players and he doesn’t want any interference from the team’s owner. Anyone want to guess how long that’s going to last?

McGinty’s team is made up of the usual collection of quirky misfits who show up in movies like this. Tight End Brian Murphy (David Denman, who later played Roy on The Office) is deaf. One of the offensive linemen is a former SUMO wrestler. Orlando Jones plays a receiver who has a day job at a grocery store. The kicker (Rhys Ifan) is a Welsh soccer player. (Okay, a footballer, I don’t care, call it whatever you want.) Jon Favreau plays a berserk defender who is a member of the police force. Leading them on the field is Shane Falco (Keanu Reeves), a quarterback with a confidence problem. Cheering for them from the sidelines and falling in love with Shane is bar owner-turned-head-cheerleader Annabelle (Brooke Langton). Backing up Annabelle is a cheer squad made up of former strippers, the better to distract the other teams.

It’s not often you see a film where the heroes cross a picket line but that’s what happens with The Replacements. Then again, it’s not like the folks on strike are driving trucks or unloading freight for a living. They’re multi-millionaires who want even more money and don’t even care about whether the team wins or loses. When the replacement players actually start to win games and become beloved in the city, the striking players react by starting a bar brawl. In the end, striking quarterback Eddie Martell (Brett Cullen) doesn’t even stick with his principles. He crosses the picket line and creates a quarterback controversy, just in time for the last game of the season.

The Replacements is thoroughly predictable but also very likable. The cast gels nicely, with Hackman especially standing out as the gruff but caring coach. Keanu Reeves is not totally believable as a quarterback with a confidence problem. You take one look at Reeves and you don’t believe he’s had an insecure day in his life. But, as an actor, he’s so likable that it doesn’t matter. The same goes for the entire cast, whether they’re on the playing field or singing I Will Survive in jail. I don’t particularly care much about football but I did enjoy The Replacements.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasure No. 80: Point Break (dir by Kathryn Bigelow)

Posted on April 15, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Some films are so ludicrous and self-aware of their absurdity that you can’t help but love them and that’s certainly the case with 1991’s Point Break.

Consider what Point Break offers us:

First, you’ve got Keanu Reeves playing a former college football star who, after blowing out his knee, ended up joining the FBI. Keanu, who looks like he’s barely out of high school in this film, plays a character with the wonderful name of Johnny Utah. Keanu gives a relaxed performance. You can tell that he’s having fun in this movie and Johnny Utah’s enthusiasm is infectious. Personally, I prefer Johnny Utah to John Wick.

Secondly, you’ve got Patrick Swayze as Bodhi, the ruthless bank robber who is also a surfer. Much like Reeves, Swayze could occasionally be a stiff actor but in this film, you can tell he’s having fun and again, it’s hard not have fun watching him as he spouts his surfer philosophy, jumps out of planes, and dreams of dying while mastering a 50-foot wave. Swayze is so charismatic as Bodhi that you totally buy that Johnny Utah would like him despite all the times that Bodhi tries to kill him.

You’ve got Bodhi’s bank-robbing gang, who call themselves the Ex-Presidents. Bodhi wears a Ronald Reagan mask. Other members of the gang wear LBJ, Nixon, and Carter masks. “I am not a crook!” Nixon says. The wonderful thing about the Ex-Presidents is that they seem to truly enjoy robbing banks. Of course, they also enjoy surfing.

Gary Busey plays a character who is not Gary Busy. Instead, he’s Johnny’s partner. Everyone in the FBI laughs at him when he says the bank robbers are surfers but guess who knows what he’s talking about! Seriously, though, it’s always interesting to see Gary Busey in the years when he was still a somewhat serious actor.

John C. McGinley does the uptight boss thing. Lori Petty is the waitress who teaches Johnny Utah how to surf. The surf footage is beautifully shot. A soaked Johnny give the camera a thumbs-up. Director Kathryn Bigelow keeps the action moving quickly and, just as she did with Near Dark, uses the film’s genre trappings to explore the bond that holds together a group of outsiders.

It’s an over-the-top and cheerfully absurd film and it’s impossible not to love it. I haven’t felt the need to watch the remake. Why would I? The original has everything I need.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasure No. 79: Kate’s Secret (dir by Arthur Allan Seidelman)

Posted on April 1, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

In this 1986 melodrama, Kate (Meredith Baxter) has a secret. She may look like healthy and young and blonde. She may have a beautiful house and a handsome husband (Ben Masters). She and her fitness instructor best friend (Shari Belafonte) may spend their time making fun of how fat everyone else. But deep down, Kate is convinced that she’s overweight. She gets on the scale and that declaration of 120 pounds feels like a slap in the face.

How does Kate lose weight? She exercises frequently. And she spends a lot of time staring at herself in the mirror, as if trying to mentally burn away the pounds. Mostly, though, Kate just binges on food whenever she gets stressed and then she throws up. Kate has a lot of reasons to be stressed and they are almost entirely due to her mother (Georgann Johnson), who rarely has a nice word to say to Kate and who constantly tells Kate that she’s going to lose her husband to his assistant (Leslie Bevis).

(Who does everyone always assume that assistants are going to be homewreckers?)

Now, to be clear, eating disorders are a serious thing. I know more than a few people who have had eating disorders. During my first semester of college, I got very used to the sound of the girl in the room next to mine throwing up every morning. There’s nothing funny about the idea of someone having an eating disorder. However, there is something funny about an overwritten movie about an eating disorder that features Meredith Baxter literally attacking a chocolate cake then blaming the mess in the kitchen on the dogs. This is one of those well-intentioned programs that takes a real problem and then goes so overboard in portraying it that it’s more likely to make you snicker than feel horrified. You might not feel good about laughing but the crazed look in Meredith Baxter’s cake-filled eyes will make it difficult not to. Hence, the term guilty pleasure.

As always happens in these type of movies, Kate ends up in a treatment center where a doctor (Edward Asner) tries to reach her and the other patients are all either extremely nice or extremely rude. Kate’s roommate (Tracy Nelson) is a model with anorexia. Another patient (Mindy Seeger) harps on Kate’s “perfect life.” Meanwhile, poor Deyna (Mackenzie Phillips) freaks out when someone moves the garbage can. It’s all very well-meaning but also very over-written and overacted to the point that, once again, it’s more likely to illicit a guilty laugh than anything else.

In the end, Kate realizes that it’s all her mother’s fault. That was kind of obvious from the first time her mother told Kate that her husband was obviously planning on leaving her. “I’m getting better,” Kate says as the credits roll. Yay, Kate!

Previous Guilty Pleasures