[In lieu of actual content, for the next several weeks I will present, at least, one review of an upcoming film each week. These are scripts that I’ve been paid money to read, and many of them contain watermarking, identification numbers, password-protection, and other ways of tracking what company it was sent to; because of this and my desire to keep my job, I will not offer downloads for ANY of the scripts I review here. Don’t bother asking.]
Here’s the deal: I hate fanboys. They don’t really add anything to an argument but shrill hyperbole, and they can’t take even the smallest amount of constructive criticism against whatever it is they love. That is, at least, my definition of “fanboy”/”fangirl.” A fan of something, although they may be labeled (inaccurately or not) as “casual” fans by their fanboy brethren, is perfectly fine. For instance, I’d consider myself a fan of Joss Whedon’s oeuvre: I love Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, and Firefly. However, I fully admit that the final two seasons of Buffy and the final season of Angel sucked about as much ass as a once-great TV show can; I just happen to think what came before it sort of makes up for the crappiness. Nevertheless, I like to pretend Buffy ended with “The Gift” and Angel ended with…whatever episode comes just before the fourth-season finale. You can run around blaming the badness of these later seasons on other producers, Whedon focusing his attention elsewhere, etc., etc., but that doesn’t change the suckiness. It also certainly doesn’t change the suckiness of Dollhouse, a sinking ship he’s allegedly piloting with as much enthusiasm as Buffy‘s glory years.