Ranked: The Films of Pedro Almodóvar From Worst to Best

Ranking filmographies is a little silly and a lot impossible. Ranking the films of Pedro Almodóvar is particularly fraught, in part because they are so different. In a career that has spanned over three decades, he has made quite the complex stylistic journey from his rough and rebellious Movida comedies to his polished art house achievements.

At the same time, however, comparing his films is troubled because of how much they share. The performances of his usual actors and actresses build off of each other, from decade to decade and from film to film. His greatest masterpieces are not individual works, rather but the larger ideas that he’s engaged with over the years.

That being said, ranking is all sorts of fun. Here are all 19 feature films directed by Pedro Almodóvar, listed in increasing order of magnificence. (Also be sure to check out our new interview with Almodóvar, in which he discusses “I’m So Excited!” and compares disco to The Bible).

19. “I’m So Excited!”

Well, this is depressing. Almodóvar’s newest feature is his first bad film, the lone flat work in a career of quirky underrated gems and universally hailed masterpieces. The comedy doesn’t quite work, the drama is oddly structured, and it has none of the punk fun of the auteur’s earlier efforts at ribaldry. It’s a disappointment, through and through.

18. “Broken Embraces”

With its director protagonist, “Broken Embraces” could ostensibly be seen as Almodóvar’s most personal film. It certainly takes liberally from his filmography, simultaneously spoofing and paying homage to “Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown.” Yet it doesn’t have much bite, and in some ways has the blandest approach to character of any of his dramas of the last decade.

17. “Kika”

Of course, “Broken Embraces” is still a good movie. So is “Kika,” which includes some of Almodóvar’s most interesting ideas regarding the media. It’s particularly prescient around the role of reality television, and the constant obsession we have with the more violent of criminal acts. Victoria Abril is excellent, as a sort of sexed-up Nancy Grace with more guts. Calling it a “minor work” would be silly, but also not inaccurate. Track it down anyway.

16. “Pepi, Luci, Bom”

“Pepi, Luci, Bom” is a terribly solid first film. It’s a wonderful early example of Almodóvar’s impish and freewheeling sense of morality, in this case driving straight at the militaristic heart of the culture of Franco’s Spain. It may not necessarily deserve to be on a list of the top debut features of all time, but it’s an awful lot of fun. It’s also a must for fans of Carmen Maura, though leading Movida musician Alaska steals the show.

15. “Live Flesh”

Others absolutely adore this one, and I can’t really blame them. It opens with one of Almodóvar’s best sequences, a very pregnant Penélope Cruz trying to find her way to a hospital to give birth on Christmas Eve, 1970 in the middle of a Franco-ordered state of emergency. The resulting baby grows up to be Victor, played unsettlingly by Liberto Rabal in the role of a lifetime. It’s perhaps the director’s most direct exploration of masculinity, most astutely through Javier Bardem’s character. Yet there’s something missing here, and it seems to take place slightly outside of Almodóvar’s world.

14. “Dark Habits”

“Dark Habits” is like “Sister Act,” but so much better. There are nuns doing drugs, nuns raising a tiger, lesbian nuns and nuns who write pornographic novels. The ensemble of actresses is an Almodóvar dream team, the key element to most of his better films. At times it almost feels too irreverent, a little obvious in its lampooning of organized Catholicism. Yet in the end it wins you back with some bongos and a fabulous nightclub act.

13. “High Heels”

Film scholar Linda Williams has addressed “High Heels” as the ultimate female Freudian myth, a tale of mother and daughter that dives right into the inherent sexual psychological tension therein, and replaces Oedipus. I’m not sure about that, but it’s certainly one of the more interesting mother-daughter films out there. With Bibi Andersen, Luz Casal, and Chavela Vargas along for the ride, “High Heels” is a drag “Stella Dallas” for the ‘90s.

12. “The Flower of My Secret”

Marisa Paredes is an immensely talented actress, and is the sole reason that “The Flower of My Secret” is this high up on this list. True, there’s nothing particularly irritating about this tale of a romance novelist sick of her repetitive trade. There just isn’t anything extra-compelling about it either. Yet Paredes turns it out, bringing the sort of frantic urban life crisis a kind of realty that most narratives of this sort don’t even touch on.

11. “What Have I Done to Deserve This?”

Blending the shell of an Italian Neorealist film with Almodóvar’s ridiculous flare for the comic (and a plot point stolen from Alfred Hitchcock Presents), “What Have I Done to Deserve This?” is among the director’s stranger projects. Maura is, as usual, on the top of her game, and the film’s gleeful lack of regard for any common standard of morality makes it both brilliant and hilarious.

READ THE TOP 10 ON PAGE 2.

Categories: Lists

Tags: Antonio banderas, Daniel Walber, I'm So Excited, List, Pedro almodovar, Penelope cruz, Ranked, The skin i live in

The Films of M. Night Shyamalan Ranked from Best to Worst

The only potentially surprising thing about the ending to “After Earth” is the first given credit: “Directed by M. Night Shyamalan.” A name that would have once been the main draw for a moviegoing audience just a decade ago, the director is now being downplayed in the marketing so as to not set up potentially toxic expectations for the project. In honor of his tenth feature film, let’s take a good, hard look back at the tense highs and terrible lows that have made up (and brought down) Shyamalan’s career to date.

1. “The Sixth Sense” (1999)

Shyamalan’s Oscar-nominated breakout hit is still his most masterful movie, concerning Cole Sear (Haley Joel Osment), a young boy who can see ghosts, and Dr. Malcolm Crowe (Bruce Willis), the child psychologist meant to help him. But TWIST! The boy is actually helping the psychologist… namely in that Crowe’s been dead all along and needs a hand in moving on from this unfortunate predicament. “Sense” maintains a great sense of classical tension, but even more vital is the undercurrent of melancholy that elevated this above your usual supernatural mystery and generally separates Shyamalan’s better films from his more simplistic, Serling-worthy (or worse) endeavors.

2. “Unbreakable” (2000)

Following up “The Sixth Sense” is no small feat, but this inspired origin story for an everyman-turned-superhero has aged about as well, anchored once more by Bruce Willis as David Dunn, a Philadelphia security guard who survives a catastrophic trainwreck unscathed and is encouraged by fragile comic-book die-hard Elijah Price (Samuel L. Jackson) to consider his particular knack for invulnerability as a sign of Something More. But TWIST! Elijah is responsible for outing David by causing many a local disaster and considers himself the inevitable archnemesis, a tragic arc sold beautifully through Jackson’s performance.

3. “Signs” (2002)

The box-office receipts for “Unbreakable” failed to support Shyamalan’s plans for a trilogy, and so the writer-director skirted sci-fi territory by pitting another dysfunctional Pennsylvania family against an impending alien invasion. Mel Gibson delivered his last great pre-tabloid turn here, and I dare say that the nerve-wracking and slyly funny first hour or so compensates for — TWIST! — the film’s divisive denouement, in which every character’s particular advantage in defeating the aliens had been anticipated in the final words of Gibson’s dying wife as all part of God’s Plan.

4. “The Village” (2004)

Unfortunately, the twist-happy auteur had begun to pigeonhole himself as exactly that, and what came after the nerve-wracking first hour or so of his “Signs” follow-up — in which the residents of a monster-menaced village fear that their long-standing truce with the creatures in the woods has elapsed — finally proved too far-fetched for many moviegoers to accept. (TWIST! The “village” exists as an isolated present-day experiment in crime-free, self-sustainable living.) For all of Shyamalan’s formal chops behind the camera, his screenwriting sensibilities were proving to be their own seemingly insurmountable problem.

5. “Wide Awake” (1998)

Shot in 1995 but not released until three years later, Shyamalan’s first studio effort shares a kinship with his directorial debut, “Praying with Anger,” as an earnest exploration in faith. Set at the same Philadelphia Catholic boys’ school that Shyamalan himself attended, “Awake” sees fifth-grader Joshua Beal (Joseph Cross) questioning his faith after the passing of his grandfather (Robert Loggia). More than anything else, it exists as a proto-“Wimpy Kid” flick with a religious bent: our neurotic lead has quirky friends, tidily episodic adventures and a crush on a girl his age at the neighboring girls’ school, narrating every shenanigan and soul-searching detour by way of diary entries. The result is corny as hell, but at least consistent in that regard. TWIST! That mute kid roaming the halls throughout the school year is actually an angel keeping an eye on young Josh. (No, really.)

6. “After Earth” (2013)

In the wake of his recent follies, this big-budget father-son sci-fi adventure has no mind-blowing, game-changing twist in store — if anything, I’d argue that it’s straightforward to a fault — but it sees Shyamalan returning to a safe, if wholly unremarkable, level of filmmaking, although his tendencies towards spirituality still manage to inform the story to an extent. Our official review will be up soon.

7. “Praying with Anger” (1992)

In addition to writing, directing and producing, Shyamalan starred in this semi-autobiographical story of an Indian teen raised in America reluctantly returning back to India as part of a student exchange program. The usual culture-clash and coming-of-age clichés ensue, and while Shyamalan is an able performer, some of his co-stars are more stilted in their delivery of his regrettably typical dialogue. It’s a first film all around, offering little early evidence of the filmmaker’s eventual talents, but when taken with “Wide Awake,” it’s an indication of the cornball helmer Shyamalan might have become had “The Sixth Sense” not landed with such force.

8. “The Last Airbender” (2010)

This live-action adaptation of Nickelodeon ‘toon “Avatar: The Last Airbender” saw Shyamalan returning to family-friendly fare with a much bigger budget, but his take was greeted with hostility, both from purists over story changes and casting choices (namely, the minimal inclusion of Asian or Asian-American actors to play beloved characters) and from newcomers, who found that his early finesse with child actors had waned as evidenced by the wooden performances. Chief among the film’s offenses, though, is the simple fact that — TWIST? — “Airbender” ultimately plays out as an unforgivably dull and derivative special-effects showcase.

9. “The Happening” (2008)

While comparisons to the signature suspense stylings of Alfred Hitchcock ran rampant after Shyamalan’s initial success, only this film so clearly modelled itself on a particular predecessor: “The Birds,” but with — TWIST! — killer wind inexplicably punishing a whole new wave of Philly residents. Despite some striking deaths in the first act, the eerie mood soon dissipates in the face of an inherently uncinematic foe (I’d suggested post-screening that the exhaustively expository film would’ve worked better as a radio play, a theory since been proven correct), and beyond that, the uniformly tone-deaf performances combine with some of his silliest dialogue yet to form an unintentional comedy of the highest order.

10. “Lady in the Water” (2006)

The eccentricities of “The Happening” were only outdone by this high-minded fairy tale, in which a Philadelphia handyman (Paul Giamatti) rescues a water nymph (“The Village’s” Bryce Dallas Howard) from the apartment pool and has to assist her in finding an author whose forthcoming work will better humanity. Sure enough, that writer is played by Shyamalan himself, a character who comes to learn that he will be martyred for his controversial, world-changing ideas. It’s a breathtaking feat of ego amid so much other nonsense (example: a young boy decodes hidden mythology from the backs of several cereal boxes), topped off with the proud slaughter of a snobby film critic (Bob Balaban) who leads his neighbors astray when trying to predict the formula of their own story. Right, because it’s not like “The Sixth Sense” had a lick of critical support…

Categories: Lists

Tags: After Earth, M. night shyamalan, Ranked, The happening, The sixth sense, The village, Unbreakable

Cannes: All 66 Palme d’Or Winners Ranked from Worst to Best

This is an impossible undertaking. Since 1955, when the Palme d’Or was introduced, there have been 66 feature winners. Many of them, if not most of them, are worthy of rising to the top of any list. This isn’t the Best Picture Oscar winners list, where there are a bunch of almost universally agreed-upon duds. This is the cream of the crop of international cinema, going back more than five decades. These rankings are somewhat meaningless, every film from about #30 on down to #1 can probably be considered a masterpiece, and most of the ones behind in the ranking are pretty darn excellent in their own way. Take this with a grain of salt.

The experience of watching all of these films was like a spiritual marathon on a couch (“The Palme D’Chore”). Many of them are quite long, too. There were the obvious films I had somehow missed in school, and then there were the obscure classics that are in great need of rediscovery. I stumbled upon stunning work and squirmed through one or two disasters that somehow found their way to the Palme. Mostly I learned an awful lot, in particular about the landscape of international cinema in the 1960s and 1970s that we have mostly forgotten about.

66. “Scarecrow,” by Jerry Schatzberg (1973)

The 40th anniversary of Jerry Schatzberg’s “Scarecrow” is this week, so perhaps it’s an unfair time to pick on it. But pick on it I shall. This is one of the lesser ‘70s road movies, a well-shot meandering trip through America without much to say. Its casual misogyny doesn’t help, including a character played by Ann Wedgeworth that seems mostly like a total misunderstanding of what Karen Black was doing in “Five Easy Pieces.” A central diversion into homophobic prison clichés only makes it worse, defining “Scarecrow” as a confused meditation on masculinity that just doesn’t hold up.

65. “Under the Sun of Satan,” by Maurice Pialat (1987)

Now, Maurice Pialat’s agonizing Catholic drama isn’t necessarily a bad film. It has some interesting ideas and a handful of interesting images, and Gérard Depardieu isn’t awful. Its problem is simply that it expresses its ideas with very, very little style. The screenplay lobs its overwrought religious anxieties at the audience, and little is done to soften the blows. A film about self-flagellation, it lashes at us as well with an almost medieval obscurity.

64. “Fahrenheit 9/11,” by Michael Moore (2004)

More than any other film on this list, Michael Moore’s indictment of the George W. Bush Administration represents a particular moment in time. The Iraq War had just entered its second year and left-wing European outrage about the invasion of Iraq was at a fever pitch, especially in France. The problem is simply that the film is not at all Moore’s best, not even close. It is his most abrasive work, and regardless of its political validity it runs far afield of the razor-sharp effectiveness of “Roger and Me” or “Bowling for Columbine.”

63. “Marty,” by Delbert Mann (1955)

The only film to win both the Palme d’Or and the Best Picture Oscar has not aged well. It’s short but not concise, and its final stumble into real dramatic conflict in its last ten minutes doesn’t really save anything. Ernest Borgnine is ok, but his performance pales in comparison to Rod Steiger’s turn in the original TV movie. It may have been a dry year for the Oscars, but the Marcel Pagnol-led Cannes Jury’s decision to award “Marty” over “Rififi” continues to baffle me.

62. “The Son’s Room,” by Nanni Moretti (2001)

In some ways Nanni Moretti is his own worst enemy. “The Son’s Room” could be one of the great films about loss, but it’s derailed by the character at its center: a psychiatrist and father, played by Moretti himself. He wants to be 1970s Woody Allen but ends up being 2000s Woody Allen, with little of his comedy and all of his smugness. The snide attitude the film takes toward his patients is at odds with its own treatment of grief, and a finally cathartic last act can’t make up for Moretti’s tonal missteps.

61. “Wild at Heart,” by David Lynch (1990)

“Wild at Heart” is a bad movie. There’s really no way around it. The first half is admittedly entertaining, absurd and almost unintentionally raucous in the same mode as “The Paperboy.” Yet somewhere along the way, around the entrance of Willem Dafoe, the comedy collapses and we’re left with a bad-tasting last act that overstays its welcome. David Lynch’s signature weirdos are haphazard and unpleasant in this case, and not even Isabella Rossellini can save the day.

60. “Yol,” by Yilmaz Güney and Serif Gören (1982)

There are some moments of stunning beauty in “Yol,” particularly those set in the frozen mountains of Eastern Turkey. Yet the grandiose cinematography is in service of one of cinema’s most over the top narratives, one which feels even schmaltzier than it reads. Like many other films, it is perhaps more historically than artistically significant – due to Yilmaz Güney’s political activities it was banned in Turkey until 1999.

59. “A Man and a Woman,” by Claude Lelouch (1966)

Take everything stylistically interesting about the French New Wave and throw all of its thematic accomplishments into the nearest ocean. Claude Lelouch’s romance is an ode to samba, walks on the beach and charismatic coloration, all set to Francis Lai’s earworm musical score. Anouk Aimée and Jean-Louis Trintignant are convincing but in a film that has almost nothing to say, how much do their voices matter?

58. “The Tree of Life,” by Terrence Malick (2011)

Oh, come at me. I acknowledge that this is a gorgeous film, but it’s also so darn simplistic and retrograde. It’s as if Terrence Malick is stuck in 1953, at least in his view of life the universe and everything, which is what this film attempts to be about. It’s beautifully sculpted blandness, and I will have none of it.

57. “The Eel,” by Shohei Imamura (1997)

The eel in “The Eel” is a pet. Its owner is a recently released convict, who spends the first few minutes of the film killing his wife and her lover. That’s quite the opening sequence, which I assume is the principle reason for which it won the Palme. The whole first act is pretty interesting, actually, engaging with whether or not its protagonist has any real intent on pursuing remorse. Yet it veers off into the direction of a soap opera with a screwball finale, losing its urgency and ending on a bland note.

56. “Friendly Persuasion,” by William Wyler (1957)

The dilemma that the American Civil War caused the Religious Society of Friends, or Quakers, is a fascinating one. They were both vehemently anti-slavery and resolutely pacifist, abolitionists who refused to fight. William Wyler’s adaptation of Jessamyn West’s novel looks at the impact of this theological burden on a Quaker family in Southern Indiana, starring Gary Cooper, Dorothy McGuire and Anthony Perkins. If only Wyler chose to actually get to the war before his wholesome epic’s final half hour, after a whole lot of humble and mundane family drama.

55. “L’enfant,” by Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne (2005)

What is social realism when it’s contrived? “L’enfant” is not lacking in the Dardennes Brothers’ typical down-to-earth Belgian empathy, but its thematic thrust approaches triteness in its facility. It’s a film with a single idea, that young people who are essentially still children themselves should probably not have children of their own. In execution is not quite so moralistic, but the way that Jérémie Renier’s youthful antics are featured and even harped upon in the film almost squash its resonance. It has the mood but none of the subtlety of the Dardennes’ other Palme d’Or winner, “Rosetta.”

54. “The Class,” by Laurent Cantet (2008)

On the one hand, Laurent Cantet’s classroom drama might be the greatest single entry in the “well-meaning teacher brings light and wisdom into the lives of a bunch of unfortunate youths” genre. On the other hand, its competition is mostly drek like “Freedom Writers.” The kids are mostly quite excellent and François Bégaudeau (essentially playing himself) is well worth a watch. But be honest, how well do you really remember this film?

53. “When Father Was Away on Business,” by Emir Kusturica (1985)

This, the first of Emir Kusturica’s Palme-winning films, brushes up against greatness without quite breaking through the wall. It’s a charming film about totalitarianism in Yugoslavia shortly after World War Two, when the nation was at odds with the Soviet Union. Told from the perspective of a child to soften the blow of political oppression, “When Father Was Away on Business” has all the comedy of Forman’s “The Fireman’s Ball” or Kusturica’s better “Underground” but not quite as much bite.

52. “The Wind That Shakes the Barley,” by Ken Loach (2006)

A great many Palme d’Or winning films start slowly and only find their footing in their second halves. It is what it is. The Irish War of Independence is a great story, but the Irish Civil War is a better one. You need the emotional victory of the first to truly express the tragedy of brother turning against brother in the second, but you can’t let the early years get boring along the way. Nevertheless, this is still Ken Loach’s best film of the 21st century and it does pack quite a punch in its latter half.

51. “The Ballad of Narayama,” by Shohei Imamura (1983)

“The Ballad of Narayama” is a little bit silly. It is also about mortality, set in a village where upon reaching the age of 70 the aged residents are expected to climb to the top of a nearby snowy peak to die. In this way it’s an awful lot like “Amarcord,” a warm and often comic portrait of a small community with a darkness hiding under the surface. It’s occasionally quite mild, but its dramatic wintertime conclusion is one for the ages.

THE LIST CONTINUES ON PAGE 2 (50-41)

Categories: Lists

Tags: Amour, Cannes, Cannes film festival, La dolce vita, Michael haneke, Palme d'or, Paris, Pulp fiction, Texas

Ranked: Counting Down Michael Bay’s Films from Worst to Best

“I make movies for teenage boys. Oh dear, what a crime.”

People tend to hate Michael Bay for what he represents, and the fact that he represents it so unrepentantly. His is a cinema of crass excess – a perma-pubescent who doesn’t know how to love anything without fetishizing it, he’s the Yasujiro Ozu of “vulgar auteurism” (don’t hurt yourself trying to unpack that one).

A graduate of Wesleyan University who got his start shooting commercials for the likes of Coca-Cola, Bay inserted himself into the movie business when he teamed up with Jerry Bruckheimer for “Bad Boys.” Yes, “Bad Boys” was his FIRST. FILM. That’s like showing up for your driver’s license test in a fighter jet. From there, Bay blew up, eager to bring his particularly destructive brand of cinema anywhere that could sustain an explosion. If you can name it, Bay can nuke it.

Bay’s persona is staunchly unapologetic, which makes it that much stranger and unappreciated that yesterday he apologized for “Armageddon,” which we’ll soon learn is hardly the worst film that he’s ever made. He’s also one of the few iconic auteurs of the last 20 years whose entire body of work has probably been seen by huge swaths of the American public – simply by virtue of going to the biggest new movie in town, even casual moviegoers might unknowingly be familiar with the complete output of Michael Bay.

With that in mind, and with his latest (and perhaps smallest) film “Pain & Gain” opening on Friday, hopefully you’ll all be able to form your own opinions on our rundown of Michael Bay’s directorial career, ranked from worst to best. Feel free to rant and rave about our choices in the comments section, it’s what Bay would want.

9.) TRANSFORMERS (2007)

“What are you rolling? Whippets? Goof balls? A little wowie sauce with the boys?”

A tonal nightmare that remains the only “Transformers” film to make the cardinal sin of trying to tell a coherent story, Bay’s most toxically stupid blockbuster set the tone for the franchise but failed to find its rhythm. Bay has been raked over the coals for his supposedly choppy and inelegant action sequences, but utter incoherence would have been better than the noncommittal stabs at middle ground that drive the set pieces here.

The problem with “Transformers” is that it doesn’t do anything enough – much like the alien robots that lend the film its title, the first installment of Bay’s most massive franchise can’t commit to any particular form, and settles for artlessness. It’s as crass as either of its sequels (the bit in which a Transformer “pees” on John Turturro is a low point for human / machine relations), but lacks the one thing that no Michael Bay film can survive without: reckless confidence.

8.) TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN (2009)

“That’s old school, yo. That’s like… That’s Cybertronian.”

So yeah, conventional wisdom is that this sequel is and always will be Michael Bay’s greatest offense, but the untethered madness of the whole thing earns my most begrudging respect, the insane spectacle of its climactic battle on the Great Pyramids as hard to follow as it is to ignore. “Revenge of the Fallen” is a film in which Bay’s resources have clearly outpaced his vision, the divots left by the writers’ strike filled with shamelessly racist caricatures and useless sidekicks.

The college shenanigans are enjoyably out of their mind (Isabel Lucas’ robot sex tail is a classic, but a classic of what I’m not so sure), and the towering IMAX presentation was certainly the overload the first film was lacking. But when the story is that bad, a little incoherence goes a long way.

7.) THE ISLAND (2005)

“That tongue thing is amazing!”

The first half of Bay’s most high-concept film uses wet gloss and ripe body horror to varnish over the fact that it’s dystopian story of simple-minded clones (being harvested to supply organs for their real-world equivalents, natch) is the kind of thing that Rod Serling could have written over the course of a single cigarette. Scarlett Johansson is perfectly cast as the bashfully naive Jordan Two Delta, her round features and flawless skin used to subvert her lab-grown celebrity image.

It’s all compelling enough until the clones escape and become the targets of a hugely destructive manhunt across a bland cityscape, the chaos merely serviceable when compared to the full-throated action sequences of Bay’s other films, which are not similarly burdened by the demands of such a wild premise. The third act’s inevitable return to the farm is as flat and perfunctory as anything Bay has ever shot, interesting only in how it lamely evinces a boneheaded pro-life argument.

6.) PEARL HARBOR (2001)

“I joined the army to do MY patriotic duty… AND… to meet guys.”

It was probably inevitable that “Pearl Harbor” would eventually be regarded as Bay’s most awful disasterpiece, as it pulverizes one of the most violent days in American history in an orgy of plastic pop culture. Bay’s ego is notoriously bombastic, and his cinema only works because he enters every room a couple seconds ahead of his feet, but a different kind of gall is required to turn tragedy into spectacle, memorializing a generation of Americans while selling their grandkids duffel bags full of popcorn.

There’s a Fordian “aw shucks” mentality to this love triangle between two good midwestern boys and the gal they both loved (there’s also a Fordian racism to the portrait of the Japanese), but the pop smear of Bay’s approach conflates the greatest pre-9/11 foreign attack on American soil with a tawdry romance that shamelessly targets modern teens by aping another international event, “Titanic.” It’s like doing brain surgery by going through the groin. Ben Affleck kickstarted a decade of irrelevance with his wooden flyboy, and Bay decided that he’d be better of focusing on box office history.

THE COUNTDOWN CONTINUES ON PAGE 2!

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Tags: Bad boys, Michael bay, Pain & Gain, Ranked, The rock, Transformers