Friday, December 27, 2019

Writing, Art and Creator Burn-Out: A Tale of 2019

For anyone working in the creative arts, figuring out where to get inspiration and refill that so-called "artistic well" is among the most important of challenges they face. For myself, I have a number of strategies. Going for walks, talking about movies and books with my friends and, of course, watching musicals.

One musical I think about often when I'm in creative downturns, looking for renewed vigour, is Sondheim and Lapine's Sunday in the Park with George, which tells the fictionalized story of French post-impressionist George Seurat and how he came to paint his most famous work, A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte.

In the musical, everyone pictured is singing!
Throughout the play, various characters comment on George's obsession with the painting, what it means to be an artist and what art even is. There are lots of characters offering hot takes, but one has always stood out to me. 

Work is what you do for other people. Art is what you do for yourself.

I don't particularly agree. Art, I tend to think, has more to do with the content of the piece rather than the origin or expression of the creation, and yet I've often thought this quote gets at something very real. This crosses out of the realm of visual art and also applies to the art of writing.

Writing for Yourself and Other People

When starting out, most books grow from an idea the author is passionate about. In the sense of the quote from Sunday in the Park with George, this is where art is not work. It's a thing writers do for themselves; scribbling new stories with fresh, new ideas. If this was the whole writing process, then writing never would be work, but it is, and all too often, it becomes work the moment other people enter the picture.

Almost everything that you can buy published in a bookstore found its way there by way of a major publishing company and was touched not just by the author, but also an editor and probably an agent and maybe a marketing department and definitely a cover designer. And along the way, they asked the author to make (le gasp!) changes.

I got a first hand taste of this over the past year, when an agent I queried asked me to complete a revise and resubmit. Most of the changes she asked for I agreed would make the book better, so I got to work. And work it certainly was, because that level of unpacking a book is not something I would have done "for myself."

I've gone through forms of this process before, and don't get me wrong. I enjoy my work. But maybe because I spent so much of this year revising, writing felt like less fun than it usually does. All writers have their favourite parts of the writing process and mine are early on - usually idea generation, drafting and reworking the "first draft" into it's second, slightly less messy iteration. Those are such fun stages. I do them for myself.

I'm proud of the revision I did this year. I'm grateful for the eyes of other people and for the pressure I feel to make my writing something that communicates ideas more clearly and meets the needs of my audience, not just my own. But in a tough year, where the writing felt like work, I needed something to refill my creative well more than usual.

So writing was what I did for other people. Art was what I did for myself.

Children and Art

I can say with utmost confidence, I did not come into this world with extraordinary talent for visual art. I made blobs and squiggles and stick-men of the same caliber as my peers. But did I ever love doing it. Creating something and then being able to hold it up and say "look!" was reason enough to keep at it. I think most children are like this. They love putting something into the world that didn't exist before and they rarely question if their work is "quality." It's just pure art. Something they do for themselves, not other people.

The hard part is keeping kids drawing once they're old enough to compare their work to their peers and start realizing some kids are progressing faster than others. Here, my greatest talent was not in producing great art, but in being oblivious. For years, I pressed on filling massive binders full of "masterpieces" that were nothing more than weirdly proportioned renderings of my stuffed animals. Yes, I kept these and yes, I still love them.

I only chanced upon the concept of artistic "skill" in Grade 4 when I became close friends with the girl who everyone agreed was the best artist in our class. For a split second, I felt discouraged, but she loved drawing and she was my friend, so we drew together and that was that. I got comfortable being worse at something than someone else, and that kept my artistic spirit alive. I kept drawing my stuffed animals, but increasingly, I also designed original characters based on the stories I made up. I shamelessly copied the work of my older sister and her friends, who also liked drawing, learning early Picasso's lesson of "stealing like an artist." Sorry to plagiarize you, Kate.

Sometime around my late teens, it became apparent that I actually did draw better than most of my friends (though not all. I've consistently spent my life with at least one best friend who is better at art than I am. Shout out to today's model, Lean Conrad!). But getting where I am today in art was a slow process born of years upon years of both doodling and intentional practice.

Move On

Fast-forward to January of 2019, when I was starting the year in a strange place. I was job hunting, slogging through a revision of my book that wouldn't come together and living in a new city. From the outset, 2019 had a lot of difficult things working against it, and I could feel myself struggling to keep my head afloat.

I needed a survival strategy. After reading some literature online about the use of art in therapy, I decided I need to reinvest in one of my old hobbies. Art is known for having profound mental health benefits and best of all, skill has nothing to do with effectiveness! The mere act of creating and expressing oneself artistically is helpful. With that in mind, I gave it a try.

Going into this year, I felt rusty. My artistic progress has not always been linear, and I was out of practice. Some seasons of my life, I've devoted more time to art than others and I can still look at old pieces that stack up decently next to what I create now. For example, here is a baseball card sized painting of raccoons in our family cherry tree I did 10 years ago that is STILL the best raccoon related piece I've ever done.

Progress is a lie!

Or so it felt. But I needed art this year. I needed something that I could do for myself, that would bring me joy and refill my creative well when my writing was hard and burning me out.

To start, I watched a few art YouTube videos for inspiration, including a few that talked about their *~*art journey*~* and overwhelmingly, a lot of these artists mentioned how posting their work online helped them, even when their work wasn't what many people would describe as "good" yet. Just posting it helped them be accountable, made them take stock of their own progress and prompted positive feedback from family and friends who were just pleased to see them creating.

Ever since Grade 4 introduced me to friends who drew better than I did, I've been painfully aware of how flawed my own artwork is. It took a lot of nerve to start posting my work, but I figured I could use the kick-in-the-butt accountability gave me, plus whatever positive reinforcement my circle might give. So I took the dive.

First, and more important than I might have expected, I organized my supplies. I went through a Marie Kondo phase at the end of 2018 and got rid of a LOT of stuff that was otherwise overcrowding the new space I lived in. One of the discoveries I made during this was that every single one of my art supplies sparked joy and I had no interest in getting rid of a single tube of paint, but they also weren't likely to do me much good buried in a closet. Realizing this, I moved my art supplies to their own unit in my bedroom. Everyday, I wake up and they stare at me from beneath a poster of Porgs, reminding me I should be making art.

So I got out my watercolours, the most joyful of my supplies, and I made myself paint.

I started with my comfort zone. I don't draw my stuffed animals as much any more, but fan art is kind of comparable, so I painted some faces from the Umbrella Academy.

Painted early March 2019, when I really got going

I really enjoyed working on these, but I also found painting took a LOT of time and specialized supplies. You have to really set up water and your work area, and I didn't always have the space and time to do so. During my Kon-Marie purge, I whittled down my sketchbooks to the drawings I wanted to keep, plus a sketchbook I had halfheartedly started with a drawing or two the previous year. It was portable and it was there, so good enough.

The paper in that sketchbook wasn't the best, so at first I tried to stay black and white. The one time I added paints, the pages buckled like crazy. But black and white art tends to bore me a bit, in part because I'm stronger at colour theory than I am line art. I realized I was more likely to draw if I gave myself permission to colour pieces afterwards, so even though the paper could barely handle the ink, I pulled out my old prismacolour markers. Eventually, I got some pieces I was happy with.

It was a lot of fun rediscovering my markers. They don't always feel as "classy" as my watercolours do, but I love their vibrancy and I had to admit, I was probably better at using them than I was paint. I tried harder to bounce back and forth between the two, as I learned to get different effects with the different media.

Since I was job hunting, I didn't have a lot of extra cash lying around for new supplies or classes, so I focused on using what I had and studying free, online lessons. (I have so many opinions on "Art YouTube" now and what videos/content creators might be useful for a beginner like me. Let me know if you need recommendations!) Watching them prompted me to do some basic "good practice" exercises I'd neglected over the years, like swatching all my paints and markers, filling the whole page in a sketchbook and practicing body parts from different angles. As someone who uses alcohol based markers, I also quickly ran into the cult of Copic users and learned there were markers with velvety brush nibs, that let you blend and color in a way that resembles painting. I was intrigued, but too poor to consider such treasures.

My other great resource was the aforementioned best friend and better artist, Leah Conrad. A young, busy mum, Leah was excited to see me get back into art and wanted to draw together immediately. Whether she was working on commissions or something just for fun and practice, her company was always a huge blessing. She knew things. I could hold something up to her and say, "something is wrong but what?????" and she could spout off quick, helpful advice like, "the foreground and background are too similar" or "that arm should be longer" and then I could get back to work. Check her out on Instagram and enjoy a peek of some of her awesome work below!

Shooting Stars Over Mill Hill, by Leah Conrad
Leah also introduced me to the very addiction I thought I couldn't afford. As I rambled to her about the art videos I had been watching and how badly I wanted to try brush nibbed alcohol markers she casually uttered the words, "I have Copics."

Copics. The industry standard, Rolls-Royce of alcohol markers. She had a small, carefully curated set that she rarely used, and was willing to lend them to me.

Prismacolour markers are very good markers and besides which, there are far more important things than art supply quality when it comes to creating art. Still, supplies do help. Once I got used to the feel of them, I couldn't deny that they worked better than what I was used to. They blended smoother and layered gorgeously. My art took a jump up in overall quality and going back to my old markers was slightly depressing.

First Copic illustrations, from July 2019
I decided to use some coupons to buy just a small set of Copic markers of my own. I expected to spend a very long time building my Copic collection up to the same numbers as my Prismacolour markers, until salvation arrived in the form of Facebook Marketplace. Someone was selling their collection of lightly used Copics for roughly 80% off the regular retail price.

After that? I kept drawing. I took books out of the library. I practiced the exercises they suggested. I joined an art group that trades art around the world and sent in baseball card sized illustrations to new friends. As I continued to post my work online, I made more friends and saw more art that inspired me, and they were kind enough to encourage me in my art journey.

By the beginning of September, two magical things happened. First, I filled a 75 page sketch book that I'd started only six months earlier, which was far more than I'd drawn in years. Second, I had a job! The summer had been very stressful, due to the ongoing job hunt, so getting some stability was a tremendous blessing. I honestly don't know if I could have made it through the summer without art. It kept me sane and feeling like I was accomplishing something when there weren't obvious milestones to point to in my work and writing.

With that in mind, I decided I wanted to do something big and challenging in my *~*art journey*~* as a way of saying thank you to the thing that kept me going through the year. With that in mind, I geared up for my first ever Inktober.

Inktober 2019

Every year, artists around the world challenge themselves during the month of October with the task of producing more art and learning new skills. The basic form of the challenge is this:

1) To produce a new work of art each day of the month
2) Drawn in ink
3) Based on an official prompt list released each year.

There are people who fudge the rules, which is fine. Maybe they don't have time to draw every day or work digitally. Plus, there are roughly 50 billion prompt lists that pop up each year for those who don't want to use the official one. But for my first year, I played it pretty traditional. Conveniently, I wanted to practice dip pen inking, plus I'd never forced myself to generate that many drawings in a single month before. The prompt list seemed like a good source of ideas when burn-out inevitably set in, so I also committed to that.

Challenges were no stranger to me. Writers use the following month, November, as NaNoWriMo - or National Novel Writing Month. I had never successfully done NaNo, however, so I was a bit nervous going into Inktober. Still, I felt as ready as I ever could be.

I'm still processing everything I learned during the month. In an effort to try to organize some of my thoughts, here's a list.

1) It's absolutely possible! Despite some occasionally rocky days and nights that went until 3 am, I finished the challenge. My new sketchbook has one drawing for every day of October and for that alone, I am immensely proud and grateful.

2) It's absolutely possible to burn yourself out doing it! To minimize the pressure, I chose all my materials ahead of time and used the same supplies and process EVERY SINGLE DAY. I wanted to get rid of as many on-the-fly decisions as possible, so I could focus on the challenge and moving on with my life. Still, I was losing my mind a little towards the end. Consider, for instance, this image from Day 30, prompt word "Catch." It was drawn upside down and on the wrong side of the page in my sketchbook, but I did not realize it until after it was done. I also had giant, scribbly blobs by it that I hastily covered up with a digital speech bubble for my Instagram post.

What a catch.
3) It's unlikely you will get thirty-one brilliant works of art from the challenge. But you'll get something. Some days, I didn't have time or energy to throw myself at a piece for a long time. Almost everything I drew that month felt a little rushed. I couldn't return to something the next day and refine it, because it was too important that I move on to the next picture. Allowing myself to be happy with something quick and easy was an important survival strategy.

4) I generally conceptualized a piece, drew, inked and coloured all in one day. This lack of forethought meant I learned a few things about my default style. Going in, I knew I drew a lot of people and faces, but what surprised me was how often I turned to animals. These were frequently my favourite pieces and the ones I was most likely to use reference photos for.

Days 24 and 23
5) Even though I wanted to improve my inking and line art, I found my colouring with Copics probably saw the most progress. Ah well.

6) While most of the challenge passed in a flurry, there were still days when life came together and I actually made something better and stronger than my usual work. You throw enough darts, eventually one will hit the bull's eye. This stretch of drawings really sang for me.

Days 11 through 13
7) By the end, when I was finishing the challenge just so I could say that I did it, it felt like... work. And that's okay. If I was left to FOLLOW MY BLISS everywhere in life, I would never finish anything. And with that in mind, by the time I was done Inktober, I was ready to be done something else too.

Putting it Together

By the end of October, I had a very full sketchbook and no desire to draw anything for a couple of weeks while I recuperated. So what did I do instead? I finished revising my book.

I had been chipping away at that revision all year long, but going into November, I felt an extra degree of oomph pushing me. My creative well was full of fan art, Copic markers, drawing sessions with Leah, reference photos, dip pens and watercolours. Within a few weeks I was done, had notes back from Beta readers and could query my book for the first time in over a year... right on time for the holiday slowdown.

But that's okay. I might not have word back about my book, but it exists in a more refined version now, as do pages of art that helped me through it. In my own life, I do believe art can be work, and that we do it both for ourselves and for other people. Going into the new year, I don't know what project will be my main focus. I've been working on revising one book for a long time and now, it's time to find it a home with an agent or publisher. Failing that, it's probably time to write something new. I'm not certain what that will be yet. I might need to do some sketching to figure it out.

What I really learned this year was the importance of a hobby. Art might not be the thing that intervenes on your behalf, but it certainly helped me. At the Storymakers Conference this year, I heard a wonderful quote in a talk given by Josi Kilpack.

That which takes me away from writing gives me something to write about.

At the time, I thought of the things that take me away from writing against my will, like day jobs and family commitments, but now I want to advocate for the things we willingly let take us away from our artistic passions. You cannot draw water from an empty well, so find a way to fill it. Let yourself have something you "do for yourself" that doesn't feel at all like work.

As I reach a crossroads in my writing, I'm at a similar one in my art. I don't know what my next big goal will be now that Inktober is over. For Christmas, I asked for some new art supplies and am lucky enough that many of them showed up in my stocking and under the tree come Christmas morning. There's definitely some playing around and inspiration to be found there.

Still, I think the most profound gift I received was one that came from another young artist. My eight-year-old nephew spent weeks leading up to Christmas telling me how excited he was to give me the gift he picked out for me. When I opened it, I found a black, hardbound sketchbook, just like the one I used for Inktober, with one critical difference. The first page had an inscription from him.

Don't Let the muggles get you down - Ron Weasley
Isn't that what art is really all about? You can't let the muggles get you down. You fight back with colour and line and composition and the love it takes to create something. 

Looking back, I won't pretend 2019 wasn't a hard year. I knew it would be, and it was. But something good came out of it. I haven't figured out what all my illustrious goals will be for 2020, but with the right friends, attitude and hobbies, I think I'll get through it.

Happy New Year, friends! May yours be filled with beautiful art.

Thursday, December 12, 2019

Flaming Hot Garbage: 10 Trash Movies I Love

One of my favorite date activities has always been going to the movies. I've heard some people decry movie nights as a poor way to get to know a potential romantic partner, due to the sitting in a theater and not talking aspect. To those who say this, I counter: you clearly have never gone to a movie with me.

Several years ago, I went to see Oz the Great and Powerful with my then-boyfriend and another mutual friend, Justin. My boyfriend knew what he was getting himself into. Justin did not. After the movie was over, someone casually asked the question "what did you think?" and boy, did they find out.

For the sake of the story, I will refresh your memory that Oz the Great and Powerful is a garbage movie that doesn't deserve to exist and that's why you've forgotten about it. It's such an insignificant fart of a film, you couldn't afford the brain space for it, so you don't remember it.

I went into exhausting detail about all the plot, characterization and design elements that fell flat. All the reasons it sucked. As Justin later put it, by the time I was wrapping up, I'd convinced him it was probably the worst movie he'd ever seen. Then I ended with, "but overall, there were at least some visually appealing scenes and it was fun to go out, so I'm glad I saw it. I liked it."

My boyfriend burst out laughing. This was clearly not the first time I'd subjected him to this. Justin, on the other hand, gave up ever understanding my opinions.

Looking back, I think I was being a bit generous with that last comment. I knew I hated the film, but I had enjoyed myself, if for no other reason than what I stated earlier. I like going to movies. But also, there was a certain tension I felt in the movie theater that I think is more common than we acknowledge. Even though the film wasn't very good, I wanted to enjoy it, because it's frankly more fun to like something than to hate it.

With Oz the Great and Powerful, I never could fool myself. But that hasn't always been the case. There are some genuinely awful movies out there that I have enjoyed. And far more common, there are movies that lots of people don't like that I will get up on a podium and give impassioned speeches about how WRONG they are. What do you mean Ishtar is one of the worst movies of all time and almost killed the careers of Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beatty? Have you heard them sing "Wardrobe of Love?" It's brilliant!

So today, I'm celebrating movies I love that were panned by critics. Because who doesn't love a car wreck they just can't turn away from?


First off, when talking about movies with other people, it always amazes me how often they beat up on film critics. For a lot of people, I think the opinions of critics seem arbitrary and no better an indicator of quality than the opinion of your next door neighbor. I bring this up because this is not my feeling at all. Generally speaking, I agree with critics about a lot of things and I absolutely do check reviews when selecting movies to see.

True, there are some caveats you have to keep in mind when reading reviews. They often go easier on kids movies than I would, since they aren't the intended audience and don't want to look like jerks for hating something their children love. They also as a group tend to LOVE movies that venerate Old Hollywood, on a level most average folk don't care about. For years, most film critics have been predominantly male, and so it's little surprise they tended to be hard on romantic comedies and other films that make women their primary audience. But even with these little notes I keep stacked in my brain, I find that critical acclaim is still a thing I trust and often finds aligns with my own feelings about a film.

This makes the cases where I don't agree with them all the more interesting. For example, Oz the Great and Powerful didn't do that badly. It got a modest 58% on Rotten Tomatoes. Not enough to have a Fresh rating, but barely below. Looking at that rating now seems ludicrous to me. Were we all sitting in the theater, trying to convince ourselves we liked a thing more than we did because it had a few pretty visuals? Or did it fall under my kid's movie corollary, where about 10% points are added simply because it's "for children?" I sure hope not, because man, that movie was way too violent for it to deserve to benefit from that rule.

But seriously. We're not here to talk about that movie. We're here to talk about better movies. Better movies that - not coincidentally - got lower ratings on Rotten Tomatoes. I use that site because, as an aggregate number, I think it provides a decent pulse on what a society "at large" thought of a film.

Broadly speaking, I think the movies below fall into three distinct categories, and I'll try to sort each one accordingly.

1) Panned by critics, loved by viewers/vindicated by history: These are the movies where it's pretty easy to argue that the critics were missing something. Maybe they were taking a film too seriously that really should have been judged for its spectacle, not its narrative depth. A perfect example of this would be a film like The Greatest Showman, which got a 56% rating from critics and an 86% from audiences.

2) Panned by critics, but with redeeming qualities: These movies have some genuine flaws, but also something that makes them interesting. Often, this overlaps with the other two categories, as it straddles the middle ground between them. For example, Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas is kinda weird and awful in parts, but wow, does Jim Carey commit and it's super quotable.

3) Trash/my brand of garbage: This movie is trash, but I love it. This will vary personally. For me, all the Pirates of the Caribbean movies fall here. (Except the first, which is genuinely great). I'm just always down for people in pirate costumes. Sue me.

But none of those made the list! Instead, I give you ten movies I would go to bat for. I've arranged them by descending Tomatometer score and conveniently, most of my favorites are at the very VERY bottom. Including the best of the bunch. So stick around, kids. The takes just get hotter and hotter.


10) A Knight's Tale

To Trudge

Tomatometer rating: 58%
Emily rating: Naked Chaucer

What it's about: Will Thatcher is a squire to an ailing knight, who dreams of changing his stars. When his master dies, Will fills in for him in a jousting tournament and from that, a new dream is born. Helped by plucky friends, and a down-on-his-luck writer, Will concocts a story that may just propel him to the new life he's always dreamed of.

Why did critics hate it? This loose retelling of the Canterbury Tales is, in a word... loose. Not only is the story more like a sports movie than anything truly medieval, but the soundtrack and costuming is ridiculously MTV inspired. That this is the first movie most people think of when picturing Geoffrey Chaucer no doubt gives some English majors heart palpitations. Also, let's be honest, the girl who plays Jocelyn can't act.

Verdict: Vindicated by History

If aggregate scoring is to be believed, this movie is of roughly the same quality as Oz The Great and Powerful. That thought alone boggles the mind. If the films on this list were arranged purely by enjoyment, this one would be near the top. It's one of my favorites and for years, it was a go-to when my mother and I couldn't decide on something to watch. As it stands, I think it's fair sitting it at the top of the list, because "A Knight's Tale is actually a pretty good movie!" isn't a very hot take.

This one is popular for lists of "best movies with low Rotten Tomato scores" because it's fantastic. For the first few minutes, the rock and roll music inter-cut with olden-timey dialogue might feel strange, but once your brain catches up, the mix really works. It's big, silly and odd, and unapologetic about those things. Plus, with the exception of Jocelyn, the cast is great. Alan Tudyk plays your new favorite angry ginger and Heath Ledger is at his most adorable as Will.

But the star of the show is Paul Bettany as Geoffrey Chaucer. Chaucer is kind of a perfect historical figure to do a movie like this around. He's not a sacred cow, like Shakespeare is, so he can be a rambunctious gambler who gets into trouble, yet still is flowery and brilliant when he needs to be, and no one is going to cry foul over his portrayal. He makes Ye Olde English literature look way cool, man! So show this to your teens and get them hip to the Cantebury Tales.

9) The Swan Princess

This is my idea of fun!

Tomatometer rating: 55%
Emily rating: Celestial Glory

What it's about: Prince Derek and Princess Odette are raised in neighboring kingdoms, by parents who would love to see the pair marry and join their lands together. But just as they start to develop feelings for each other, Odette is kidnapped by a sorcerer who transforms her into a swan and will only release her from the curse if she marries him. How will she get home and what is Derek to do without her?

Why did the critics hate it? Produced by Nest Entertainment, The Swan Princess is clearly on a smaller budget than the Disney princess movies it so desperately wants to be. There are times the animation is awkward and while it's cute, the film hardly offers anything to adult audiences.

Verdict: Appropriately rated/my trash

The Swan Princess isn't what I would call a bad movie, but it is one that I love more than it likely deserves. Certain parts really work. Despite featuring three animal side-kicks, none of them annoy me! And John Cleese as Jean-Bob the frog is downright charming. The music is mostly strong too. It's also the part of the movie that leaks the most Mormon-ness over the project. For the uninformed, Nest Entertainment was a company that got it's start doing Bible and Book of Mormon animated shorts for families of The Church of Jesus-Christ of Latter-Day Saints. The composer for the film was Lex de Azevedo, who was something of a big star for members of the church back in the Nineties. He really busts out the show tunes here, and the love ballad, "For Longer than Forever", is the most Mormon Princess song you will ever hear anywhere. My favorite song will always be "This is Not my Idea of Fun," which is unarguably the best sequence in the film. Little Derek and Odette punching each other while their parents plan their wedding is a mood.

ON THE OTHER HAND... the critics weren't wrong about the occasionally floopy animation. The proportions of everyone's bodies feels off, with most of the human characters sporting very long legs. But the movie's biggest problem (also my favorite thing) is Derek, who is a frickin' idiot. Sometimes the movie acknowledges this, but all too often, it doesn't. Like, guys. Go back and watch this. He nearly shoots Swan Odette multiple times. He's so bad at the hero thing, Bromley of all people needs to save his butt at the end.

I thoroughly enjoy how clueless Derek is, and get great pleasure out of quoting his more melodramatic lines. (The vow was for herrrrrrr!!!!!!) But quotability is not the same as quality, especially when the movie is going for the opposite emotion during the scene. And in the end, I always leave the movie feeling like Odette could do better. Like honestly, girl. You weren't wrong to get in that carriage at the beginning and leave.

8) Robin Hood

The face that launched a thousand furries.

Tomatometer: 54%
Emily Rating: Oo-de-lally

What it's about: Robin Hood and Little John running through the forest, jumping fences, dodging trees and trying to get away. Contemplating nothing but escaping, finally making it. Oo-de-lally, Oo-de-lally, golly, what a day.

Why did critics hate it? Produced during a downturn in the prospects of the Walt Disney Company, the film relies on an embarrassing amount of recycled animation and fails to reach the same dizzying heights of artistry and spectacle previous Disney films did. A symptom of trying to carry on Walt's legacy without anyone who possessed his vision.

Verdict: Vindicated by History

Not long ago, I polled my Facebook friends for their favorite, pre-1980s Disney animated movie. (that distinction might seem arbitrary, but there were some very important internal company shake-ups that happened to Disney in the Eighties that distinctly impacted the "eras" of Disney animation). For the most part, people were all over the map, picking favorites, but among the most interesting to me was the high popularity of Robin Hood. It did as well as any film for picks as a favorite, and even more people named it as their runner-up. This movie is very well loved now, so what changed?

Standing now from the perspective of modern Disney viewers, I think a lot of the reasons it got picked to pieces and flopped at the box office on release are exactly why it's so loved now. It is a small film. The animation is locked in the xerography days of animation, which led to the overall scratchy, cheap look. And it's no secret that several scenes use recycled animation sequences from previous films. But beyond the visual smallness, the story is small and simple too. You don't get the grand displays of emotion or villainy of previous Disney films, and certainly not the outright bombast of some more recent films. What looked like a step down in quality then now looks like a refreshing view of the past.

Remember when Disney films were about simple things? Like, a fox and hound are friends! This deer is growing up! A lady doggy falls in love with a stray boy doggy! Robin Hood and Little John running through the forest! Oo-de-lally!

To me, the music of the film best sums up why it worked so well. The folksy, quiet happiness of Robin Hood is infectious. None of the emotions feel forced, because they're allowed to exist on a smaller scale, making it one of the most sincere of the early Disney movies. Decades later, that sincerity allows the film to resonate and continue to find an audience.

Some of Disney's past films do get shoved to the side and ignored, as if they're embarrassments from an age out of touch with today's sensibilities. But not, it turns out, Robin Hood. Disney still promotes this one, realizing it did grow into a beloved classic, and that's where it deserves to stay.

7) What Dreams May Come

I miss Robin Williams

Emily Rating: 365,780 gallons of paint

What it's about: Chris and Annie have endured hardship already in life, due to the loss of their children in a car crash four years previous. When Chris is also killed in a car crash, their bond is put even further to the test as he must pass on to Heaven while Annie spirals in depression on earth.

Why did critics hate it? While visually stunning, this movie bites off more than it can chew, says some potentially troubling things about life, death and atonement, and isn't as deep as it thinks it is.

Verdict: Flawed, but very, very interesting

I first saw this film in Art class in high school and that right there will tell you something about who it is for. This movie won't be everyone's cup of tea, but it is visually stunning, and I think it does a fabulous job of illustrating thoughts and emotions through art. Movies about the Afterlife are inherently tricky, since they often come into conflict with our own deeply held beliefs about death, which are understandably complicated.

It's also true that this movie doesn't have a lot that's terribly profound to say about death. It feels more like someone going, "hey, wouldn't be cool if heaven was like THIS???" rather than someone giving a thorough philosophical discussion on the nature of God and judgement and goodness and what we hope for in the world to come.

But I really can't overstate how gorgeous this movie is. In many ways, this is my version of The Greatest Showman. It's certainly not a big, peppy musical, but the joy of this film comes simply from looking at it and from Robin Williams turning in a tender, dramatic performance. Like Greatest Showman, it's easy to overthink.

Annie is an artist, and so when Chris arrives in Heaven, he discovers that all of the flowers and breathtaking vistas he sees around him are made of paint, a reflection of his love of her. When the plot later takes characters through literal Hell, this same artistic sensibility is there.

Do I think this movie is right about the afterlife? No. Do I agree with everything it says, especially about Annie's depression? Also no. But I still found this film incredibly moving, because it does say something about life as we know it here on earth; that we can sometimes glimpse Heaven through art and that our own love and imaginations build the world around us.

6) A Walk in the Clouds

The heart flutters.

Tomatometer: 44%
Emily Rating: KEANU REEVES!!!!

What it's about: Paul Sutton (Keanu Reeves!!!!) is a recently returned World War II vet, looking for work and trying to escape the horrors of his recent past. On the bus to Sacramento, he befriends Victoria Aragon, a Mexican-American graduate student who is terrified to return home to her family, as she is pregnant from a brief affair with one of her professors. Empathizing with her pain, Paul offers to go with her, introduce himself as her husband, and then "abandon her" so that her family only has to console her over a bad marriage, rather than deal with the shame of an affair. But when they arrive, complications ensue...

Why did critics hate it? Too sappy, too melodramatic, and who on earth thought casting Keanu Reeves was a good idea?

Verdict: Criminally Underrated

During my teens, I was slightly obsessed with Keanu Reeves. My friends thought I was nuts. Back in the 90s and early 2000s, he was still a laughing stock and often lampooned as a terrible actor. Still, I loved him, and this movie was a big part of why. As it turns out, I had the last laugh because now the whole world is obsessed with him and I get to shout "I TOLD YOU SO!" at the universe with great frequency.

This movie is sappy, but if you ask me, it is EXACTLY sappy enough. It's got a lot of the design and costume overindulgence we all love about period pieces, plus it focuses on a cast of characters who don't get featured very often in movies about post-war America. Victoria's family make up the bulk of the cast and along with all the romance, there are some thoughtful conversations about power and privilege in American society that take place. Little touches like this helped give the movie the depth that makes it more than just an overblown romantic fantasy.

But speaking of that fantasy for a moment, one thing reviewers were always wrong about was this idea that Keanu was a bad cast. Paul is a simple, kind-hearted, good man and as the world realizes now, Keanu just exudes simple goodness.

As a romance - and not even a romantic comedy - I think this movie may have suffered from the Old Boys Club of Hollywood a bit when reviews came in. My instinct tells me that this movie's primary audience is probably women, not that I'm saying men can't love this film too! Roger Ebert adored it. In fact, as good romance films have become more scarce in recent years, the few genuinely good rom-coms and romances garner better reviews than their counterparts of earlier years, even with predominantly male reviewers. Maybe we didn't realize how good we had it in the 90s. Not when it came to romance, and not when it came to Keanu Reeves.

Of all the movies on this list, this is probably the one that is a) the least well known while, b) deserving a comeback for modern audiences. If you can, go see it! Or better yet, come over to my house and we'll watch it together and swoon.

5) Miss Congeniality

That would be harsher punishments for parole violators, Stan.

Tomatometer: 42%
Emily Rating: I really do want world peace

What it's about: Grace Hart is a tough as nails FBI agent. But when a terrorist plot targets the Miss United States pageant, she's also the one woman on the force with a swimsuit body. Can she go undercover and save a group of women she's never taken seriously?

Why did critics hate it? A bad script and by-the-numbers plot drag down the film, despite Sandra Bullock's charm.

Verdict: Flawed, but pretty great

I'm not 100% sure what critics meant by "bad script" in this case. Unoriginal? Okay. Mean-spirited? At times, yes. But I can't shake the feeling the script isn't as bad as they think it is, because Sandra isn't just funny, she's flippin' hilarious. She nails the physical comedy, the line delivery, the facial expressions. Absolutely everything. Maybe the script wasn't much, but it gave her enough to work with.

Besides, she isn't the only funny person in this movie. Michael Cain is phenomenal, as are William Shatner, Candice Bergen and all the pageant girls. Perhaps the one place I see the script truly failing is with Benjamin Bratt's character, who is supposed to be a likable love interest, but still comes off as a misogynistic pig. I don't blame Bratt though. I find his performance enjoyable, and it's more when I replay his lines in my head and picture them being said by anyone with less handsome swagger that I really notice the ick factor.

Still, overall, the cast is great and I don't care that the plot is unoriginal. To me, this movie is funny enough and quotable enough it's flaws don't really matter. And while it's core, emotional message isn't the strongest, it does still nail some key points about women learning to value other women who don't resemble them. And that's pretty cool.

4) Robin Hood: Men in Tights

My, there are a lot of Robins on this list.

Tomatometer: 40%
Emily Rating: The night is young, and you're so beautiful.

What it's about: After the success of Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, Mel Brooks decided to lend his signature brand of satire to everyone's favorite Merry Men.

Why did critics hate it? Mel Brooks traded much of his sharp-witted satire for outright, pointless silliness. Also: too many gross jokes and bad puns.

Verdict: Cult Classic

This movie is based on another movie. How weird is that? Actually, a lot of scenes are direct parodies of segments of Prince of Thieves, a movie I have never seen and likely never will. Going over pop culture history, I've learned that the original was absurdly popular upon its initial release, but since then, the parody has completely outstripped it in recognition among younger audiences. Did Mel Brooks inadvertently destroy Prince of Thieves with this film? Because that would be amazing, considering critics didn't find the film satirical enough.

There's not doubt that Men in Tights is silly. And yes, I will concede that some of the jokes are kind of painful. But the overall product still works. All the performances are great. This is the best use of Carey Elwes post-Princess Bride. Everyone from Marion to Prince John to the Sheriff of Rottingham to Broomhilda to Little John to Ahchoo to Blinkin to Latrine gets great scenes with great lines. Everyone looks like they're having fun being in this movie.

If you haven't noticed by now, I have a soft spot for comedies, and this one has always made me laugh. I touched on it recently in my post on Greatest Pre-Dramatic Kiss Love Songs as well, so if you need a more thorough discussion of why particular scenes in this movie are so good, look no further.

As a cult classic, this isn't a film that needs me to defend it. A couple years ago, I showed it to a friend, and while he was young enough I had to explain a few VERY 90s jokes to him (clap on lights, Nike pumps, the whole idea there was a film called Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves that had been popular), he still loved it. If you somehow haven't seen it, give it a try. It's very silly.

3) Ernest Saves Christmas

Never has Santa looked so much like a mall Santa
And honestly, that says it all.

Tomatometer: 36%
Emily Rating: Merry Christmas, knowhatImean?

What it's about: Everyone's favorite idiot, Ernest P. Worrell, must help Santa Claus in his quest to find a new Santa to replace him and carry on the Christmas magic. Hijinx ensue.

Why did critics hate it? Oh no... not this idiot again. The Ernest movies were boldly, purposefully dumb and this movie is no exception.

Verdict: My precious, precious, lovely garbage

Nostalgia is a great liar. Every Christmas, I watch this movie with my family. Every year, we laugh our heads off. We were blissfully unaware of how bad this movie was until my siblings got married and their spouses informed us this movie was basically our hazing ritual. Survive this, and you get to be a Paxman.

Ernest Saves Christmas is a mess of bad acting, cheap costumes and Jim Varney mugging for the camera so aggressively, it's a miracle his face doesn't fall off. The plot frequently breaks for meandering skits and the Florida setting makes the whole film feel barely Christmassy.

And this movie is so darn quotable, none of that matters.

Maybe the awkward line delivery helps. Unimpressive bits like "sounds like a database problem" become recognizable because who says that??? Besides which, there's some genuine sweetness beneath all the utter insanity on display here.

If you ever have the chance to see this movie, try the first ten minutes and if you find yourself laughing, leave it on. You'll know by then it it's your cup of tea. Otherwise, it's fair to give a pass.

Unless you want to marry a Paxman in which case, congratulations. You're watching this monster every year for the rest of your life.

2) Hook

I miss Robin Williams

Emily Rating: Childhood nostalgia in a can

What it's about: After leaving Neverland, Peter Pan grows up to become Peter Banning, a boring, workaholic, middle-aged man who is out of touch with his children. But when Captain Hook kidnaps his children in a bid to draw Peter back into their feud, he must rediscover the child and hero inside himself to save his family.

Why did critics hate it? Lavish production design does not make up for a strange, uneven and uninspired take on the Peter Pan myth. Perhaps most damning, Steven Spielberg hates this movie and thought he failed it as a director.

Verdict: Vindicated by History, despite some flaws

Of all the films on this list, Hook has probably benefited the most from collective nostalgia. If you are a Millennial of a certain age (as am I) you love Hook, and there is no shortage of people across the internet jumping up to defend it. Something about it really spoke to its target audience, and I defy you to find someone who watched it as a child and didn't at some point chant Rufio's name along with the Lost Boys.

Ironically, a common thought at the time was that this movie, which was slow moving and took quite a while to get to the final battle (or any battle, for that matter), would probably appeal more to parents than children. It was too syrupy and sentimental, and weighed down by a massive cast of sub-par child actors. That sort of thing seemed more like what parents wanted their kids to enjoy, not what kids actually liked.

Looking back, they aren't entirely wrong. The child actors aren't the best (save Rufio, whom I will hear nothing against) but even as a kid, I can't remember caring about that. I was far more fixated on Peter Pan and Hook themselves. In the early 90s, Robin Williams starred in a parade of kids movies that made him THE super star of my generation. Both he and Dustin Hoffman turn in fantastic, albeit non-conventional performances. These aren't the same characters from the children's book, but with such a well-known story, there was a certain fun to that.

Another common criticism of the film is that nothing in the Neverland sequences feels real. At first, that might sound like a ridiculous criticism, since we're talking about a magic island filled with pirates, but think, for a moment, of how real Middle Earth and Hogwarts seem in their films. Or, if you want a more direct comparison, check out the 2003 remake of Peter Pan, which creates such a vivid, rich Neverland, Hook pales in comparison. Several reviews compared the Hook sets to seeming more like interactive theme park attractions than anywhere people actually lived. The pirate ship has a baseball diamond and boards that pop up when you step on them! The Lost Boys live in a jungle skate park! TOTALLY RADICAL!!!

As an adult, I see the design flaws now, but... here's the thing. As a kid, living in Disneyland WAS my ultimate Neverland. Sure, the magic feast the Lost Boys have is mostly just red and blue piles of whipping cream instead of actual, tasty food, but is that such a bad thing when you're seven years old? Maybe Hook lacked something to make it truly "great" but it was far from a train wreck either. Where Hook fails as art, it tends to succeed as fun, and for that reason, most people embrace it now as an underrated gem.

1) Oscar

What an honest looking bunch of guys.


What it's about: Gangster Angelo "Snaps" Provolone promises his dying father that he'll leave the rum running behind and finally go straight. But on the day he plans to invest in a bank and become an honest man - the first day he can't retaliate against his enemies - his accountant comes to him with a request: he wants to marry Angelo's daughter and he's stolen $50,000.00 of his boss's money to make sure that happens. Farce ensues.

Why did critics hate it? Sly Stallone is awkwardly cast in a farce that doesn't work and is too slow moving.

Verdict: Near perfect and I will die on this hill

With most of the other movies on this list, I at least "get" where reviewers were coming from. But this one just yanks my chain, because I honestly don't know where things went wrong. Unlike most of this list, this was not a film I watched in childhood and not one I have absurd amounts of untested nostalgia for. It's just a fun, goofy farce that I loved from the first time I saw it.

This movie is arguably my dad's favorite and there are few things he loves more than finding a new friend who hasn't seen it and getting them to watch it for the first time. He's done this dozens of times, which I've often been privy to, and without fail, people laugh. When I do meet people who know this film already, they love it and are absolutely stunned when I tell them how critically panned it was upon release.

Perhaps the one molecule of truth in what the critics said is that Stallone was a weird cast not because he butchers the film, but because everything he represented in audiences eyes at the time was counter what this movie is about. It's an absurd throwback to old mobster comedies and his image was more tied to gangster movies where people actually get shot up by the end.

There are also a few scenes that drag on. It often feels like they pause to let the audience laugh at their jokes periodically, which I would consider a bigger offense if not for the fact that most people I've watched this with do, in fact, laugh uproariously during the pauses. In other instances, the pauses themselves feel like part of the joke. There's something wonderful about watching Stallone bang his head on a table while Tim Curry watches on in pity.

I'm not sure what reviewers expected. Did they want something more adult? Less silly? That seems to be a reoccurring question in these reviews, and I think that's what I take away from this whole exercise. In my mind, silliness is worthwhile. Not everything needs to be sharp or satirical in order to be clever. There's value in a sight gag, whether it's Ernest P. Worrell covered in snakes or Chaucer walking naked down a road. There's joy to be had in worlds built from paint and amusement park equipment. A good non-sequitur about harsher punishments for parole violators or Nike pumps is sometimes what it takes to make a script worth quoting. There is, in my mind, an art to silliness. And if you're looking for a masterclass in silliness, Oscar is the perfect place to start.