Once again, Wil Wheaton, my favourite celebrity of all times, has done it: something I should have done ages ago, which is to write about guilty pleasure films. I was actually wetting myself when I read this (I know - attractive!), not just because he manages to turn The Omega Man and the likes into drinking games which will land you on a drip in hospital, but also because he points out so marvellously what exactly is so cheesy but at the same time sooooooo good about these films. And he actually names almost exactly all my favourite Guilt Trips (which I do own on DVD because they are too good to miss.
Come on, there is nothing like Charlton Heston in 70s movies. I know he can't act for shit, and he is a gun-waving idiot, but nothing makes me giggle/watch in 'passing a car crash'-fascination more than his catchphrases, overacting and having helpless damsels cling to his barrel chest in a desperation that makes feminist tear their hair out.
So yes, have a read of this fantastic review.
ze klick.
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