The Quest Continues...And Ends: 1984

(Somber ambiance.) Hi, thanks so much for coming. Oh thank you for the kind words - it really means a lot. No, no, that's not necessary, but thanks. Really, it would just mean the world if you stopped by after the service for some lemon bars and coffee. Oh, okay, I understand. Yes, it is quite the drive. Sure, sure, this week's going to be quite the doozy for me too. No need to apologize; it really has been a long time coming now. Well yes, it is tough. It will be tough for a while, but we'll stay strong. We always do. Yes, I know, The Quest would want me to be happy. The Quest would want me to move forward, wipe the tears away, and find something else to blog about. But I just can't. Oh, the organist's started. Here's a program. Better get on in there. No, it's okay, I have a front pew reserved for myself. Yes, I'm doing the eulogy. It won't be too pedantic, I promise. Saccharine, yes; pedantic, no. Okay, now you go take your seat soon. And let go of my effing arm, you patronizing bum. You never even loved The Quest! You know what? Just get out! No, no, come back. Read the last entry. It'll be quick, painless, I promise. Thanks. Thanks for not judging me by my emotional outbursts. Let's just begin so we can get to the lemon bars. Just one last question though -which 1984 blockbuster classic is your mega-jam?

Ghostbusters: All five of the nominees in this final entry in The Quest for the Single Finest Film of Our Generation are heavy hitters. In fact, between all the years covered in this series, from the 80s to the 90s, this might be the year featuring the most well known and most widely seen array of films. So much so that any one of them could have been the top grossing movie of 1984, though ultimately the movie about grown men who dress up in tan jumpsuits and shoot lasers at ghosts is the one that stacked the most cheddar. Whodathunk? Not only this, but I'd argue it's also the movie that's aged the best out of the five, so much so that it's still widely respected by kids (I use it in my Fiction Writing class as the prime example of an effective story that melds several genres and classic tropes together) and adults alike. It's funny, but not an overt comedy just looking for giggles. It's exciting, but not just an action movie looking for thrills. It's the perfectly blended blockbuster, and when that inevitable remake finally happens, it will either be the ultimate resurgence of 80s pop culture or the most disappointing. It gets my vote without question.

Gremlins: The film responsible for the mogwai species deserves special mention for this year as well, even thought the story it tells is basically in no way serviceable anymore. It's basically fun to watch still solely because there's little green monsters and little furry creatures everywhere and it's fun to watch Henson's workshop in action no matter what the story line is. But unfortunately this is not enough. The lead actor, much better in An American Werewolf in London, is completely flat here, as is every other human character - so much so that I don't even remember anyone's name, and I've seen this movie way more than most people probably should! Don't get me wrong; when I was little, I absolutely adored the concept. It was both frightening and titillating, the point where I couldn't believe it was okay for kids to watch, and that was the best kind of kid's movie for a boy with an odd obsession with horror movies. But alas, time has not served it well and so we must dismiss it from the competition.

The Karate Kid: A couple The Quest posts ago I discussed how my memories for Karate Kid Pt. 2 and the original Karate Kid are largely intertwined, which caused an inability for me to properly review their pop cultural significance individually. This is still largely true, though I am aware that the first one is clearly the superior film because it's the origin story, features the infamous fly catching scene, and is responsible for the naming of one of my favorite bands ("Sweep The Leg Johnny!"). Because of this, it's a little tougher to negate this one from the competition, especially because it was a big part of my induction to the world of martial arts movies (some of which were as awesome, such as Bloodsport, and some of which were terrible, such as Best of the Best). It also largely tricked me into falling for the underdog sports movie formula without being centered around a traditional organized team sports, something that had typically bored me as a child (also gotta give big ups to Cool Runnings of course for doing something similar).

Beverly Hills Cop: A sequel to this quintessential classic formula film was also discussed a few posts ago, but the differentiation between this one and its successor is much more clear in my mind, even though the plot was even technically more similar between the two here than in the Karate Kid franchise. I think it's because the jokes in this one are so much better and the relationship/chemistry between Axel Foley and Judge Reinhold is just a bit more compelling to me than Daniel-son and Mr. Miyagi. And I love Trading Places and Coming to America as much as the next guy, but I still think that this perennial buddy cop comedy showed Murphy at the top of his game more so than the others. Here he had more of an alluring quality because he wasn't JUST the outsider, he was the guy in charge even though he was an outsider. And while you could say this about those other movies, he had more authority here, which made him more of a three-dimensional character and magnetic than most other protagonist roles in the 80s. In fact, go back and watch this and you'll see that it's no wonder the man was eventually nominated for an Oscar. Too bad that besides his small role in Dreamgirls, he hasn't really put his acting/comedy skills to use since then. Oh well, we can always go back and watch him put a banana in a tailpipe: comedy GOLD.

Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom: I won't lie. This used to be my favorite Indiana Jones movie. That is, of course, until I re-watched it many years later and realized it was just one long scene with one giant set piece, and not an actual movie. It was like watching a soccer game where there was just one play to score a goal, it lasted all the way until extra time, the other team never getting a chance to bring back across half-pitch, and then the winning point turns out to be an own goal. A hilarious waste of time? Maybe. Spellbinding like the sport should be? Hell no. Temple of Doom clearly had script troubles since day one, but they just kept staying the course because they didn't know what else to do. Like Spielberg just kept saying to himself and his crew, "it's okay, as long as we can make it look like an amusement park ride, it'll be okay." It's not even cool upon later viewings to see the dude take the other dude's heart out of his chest with his bear hands. Or watch them eat monkey brains. They're just like a couple arduous blips on the radar while you wait for an actual second scene to happen. It's like it was enough to satisfy my one track eight-year-old brain at the time, but it's no longer fun for me to go back and watch Harrison Ford jump around with a smart alecky kid in a baseball cap that always almost falls off. It's almost as if....I grew up.

P.S. Say goodbye to this feature and be prepared to say hello next month to a new movies of old-influenced one!

The Quest Continues: 1985, Or A Penultimate Look At The Movies Of Our Youth

Many thanks to those of you out there that helped momentarily revive last month's edition of The Quest For The Single Finest Film of Our Generation. With your votes, Ferris Bueller's Day Off was semi-rightfully crowned the finest film of 1986 according to our generation. And despite my rooting for the underdog Little Shop of Horrors, I do concede that as far as canonical 80s films go, Matthew Broderick and co. do indeed deserve a heavy dollop of recognition for shaping our childhood. But like our youth once did right underneath our noses, so shall another beloved thing dissipate into the realm of the unknown. That's right, next month will be the final entry of this feature and in August I will attempt to regain the once bright glory of The Quest with a new interactive movie-related monthly column. Until then, however, let's focus on our second-to-last round of voting. For June, let us focus our attention on the year 1985 and its blockbusters, only two of which below, by the way, actually cracked the top ten box office champ list for that year. Nonetheless, all five were distinct parts of my childhood and so I ask for your input as well. Let the penultimate round of voting begin!

Back To The Future: I'm wondering if this will be a no-brainer for most readers. Five or so years ago, my official vote would have gone in a heartbeat to Marty McFly and friends for multiple reasons, but first and foremost because like many nerds, time travel has fascinated me ever since my initial viewing of this very film as a youngin'. Now ostensibly just a sci-fi plot device that always gets more convoluted than originally intended, back in my prime in-awe-of-storytelling days it was a concept that really astounded and moved me. The very idea of being able to alter our lives' events, and our parents' lives' events, but with irreparable consequences of the mind and heart, wowed me in a way that I still to this day cannot properly articulate. It's something that affected me so much that years later, shortly after I eagerly purchased the trilogy on DVD, my band and I extracted audio from a few key scenes to sample in our record when we realized how much of our lyrics centered around the almighty bastard Father Time. The one that of course always struck me the most was the infamous following quote: "Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads." Indeed, the same is true for the great art of cinema.

The Goonies: Now I love The Goonies as much as the next kid, especially the Truffle Shuffle, Sloth, and Cyndi Lauper's theme song. But I have to be honest, it's not even that I never felt a special connection to it and that's the end of the story. It's that I wanted to feel a special connection to it so bad that I continued to watch it over and over again, often finding myself so close to falling head over heels with it that I thought for sure this would be the viewing that got me on the Goonies bandwagon. But it just never happened. Now for the obligatory "don't get me wrong" backpedaling - the adventure is a rollicking good time, the underdog sense of victory is grand for a non-sports-centered movie, and overall it's just a solid enjoyable piece of entertainment with some strong emotional moments that caused me to second-guess my lack of deep link to the film. No, at the end of the day, all these things just didn't add up to what I find to be the most important aspect of a film about youth to resonate fully: these kid characters were just outlines of fully formed humans. There were sparks here and there of brilliance, for sure, but overall it just lacked the kind of authoritative authenticity that the film above and the film below explored all the better, possibly for the simple reason that their protagonists were older.

The Breakfast Club: And I understand that many throw away all notions of authenticity when discussing John Hughes' masterpiece The Breakfast Club due to its blatant use of cliques and social grouping as forms of identity, but I am one of those sticklers in the mud that can't help but shout from the rooftops that despite the tendency to stereotype by our book-cover-judging brains, this is the one 80s teen film that was able to delve into this touchy topic and instead of lampoon or defy cliche, try to understand why the jock, nerd, and burnout templates for teendom exist in the first place. Thus, my official vote goes to this immensely rewatchable work of art for more reasons than pure entertainment value, for more reasons than its undeniable magnetism and quotability, and certainly for more reasons than simply because it's the only film (for my money) of the decade that attempted not just to explore deep topics in a mainstream and accessible setting, but also break them apart until the tender core was left vulnerable and exposed to dangerous truth. I could go through (and I'm restraining myself because I want to so bad) every single actor's deft portrayal of their own subculture, not because it was representative of teenagers that looked like them, but because it was just one heartbreaking example of why they chose the disguise they chose. And this kind of raucous mind-blowing exploration, full of nostalgic emotion and entertainment, is kind of the reason I started the Quest in the first place. Not to sway your vote or anything! Honest!

Pee-Wee's Big Adventure: Oh, Paul Reuben. Honestly I don't care what you do in the privacy of your own public adult film theater. It's not that what you did was illegal. It's not even that it was viewed by many as "perverted" or "morally despicable". Because honestly, in the grand scheme of celebrity scandals, yours objectively ranks toward the bottom of the list in all of these categories. But you do realize that it was absolutely only because it completely altered everyone's view of you in the Pee Wee suit and bow tie after that. Right? If you were just another actor, hell if you were just another actor in a famous children's television show even, we would have let it gloss by and not let it affect our viewings of your wacky persona. But unfortunately, your character straddled the line so brilliantly (now we understand why) between creepy/insane and endearing/hilarious that when something from your real life brought back toward the more "edgy" end of the spectrum, this is why your fame was immediately ransacked from your pleated pockets. Sorry, Pee Wee. Your movie was awesome too. And I really wanted you to find that bike. But I just couldn't stomach many more viewings after "the incident." I know, it's partly my fault too. "The author is dead" blah blah. But I just...can't.

Teen Wolf: This is a film, in case you were ever confused, about a teenage boy on the school basketball team who turns into a werewolf. Because he turns into a werewolf, he becomes amazing at basketball. There's something wrong with the previous two cause/effect statements. I'll give you a clue: it involves the word "because". Now at first I wondered how in the hell Michael J. Fox was able to star in both this and Back To The Future in the same year. Then I realized that it was rather quite simple: he put 90% of his effort into one film and 10% into the other. I'll let you guess which percentage applies to which film. Seriously though, there are a number of films I could have chosen for the fifth slot in this ballot, including Fletch, European Vacation, and Spies Like Us. Then I realized all three of those films starred Chevy Chase and I thought, huh, I guess it was okay to make one great movie and 1-2 (insert adjective here) movie in the same year back in the 80s. But in all honesty, the mere fact that Teen Wolf subverted the whole "you must be scared of a werewolf" stereotype is the very reason I decided to include it. If you haven't seen it since back in the day, I recommend watching it again, but with friends please, and then never again.

P.S. Happy 900th post, co-Blogulator writers! We will def be having a party for #1000 this fall/winter.

The Quest Continues: Wow, 1986 Rocked It Hard Yallz

Okay, everyone. Three weeks left with this feature. I've decided it. We're doing 1986 today, 1985 in June and 1984 in July. In August I will be debuting a new feature that has yet to have the kinks worked out of, so I will refrain from previewing it in any way until we get closer to end of The Quest For the Single Finest Film of Our Generation. I shall also take this introductory paragraph to mention that I have no qualms with the dwindling amount of votes I'm getting for this series. I'll admit, at first I felt scorned, but I have come to accept that the 80s just aren't as tenaciously loved by our generation as the 90s were, which is why Home Alone shall sit firmly atop its throne as the actual single finest film of our generation, while I simply delve into the leftovers from the 80s that helped embellish my childhood, and maybe a few others too. This is more the personal tract of the journey rather than part of the integral whole, if you will. So sit back, relax, and if you loved any of the movies below at any point in your upbringing, drop me a note via the comments so I know you're out there. Thanks!

Top Gun: The biggest blockbuster of 1986 is probably also my least adored of the five recounted here. That said, it's probably the only non-war military-themed movie I've ever liked, and whenever I find out someone I know loves it, I like them a little bit more. It's not the presence of Tom Cruise, obviously, even though I'm not one of his bigger detractors. But absolutely everything about this movie just screams communal movie worship. I don't even think I've seen this film since the last millennium ended and yet I remember Val Kilmer's gum-chewing smirk and Anthony Edwards' wide-eyed bromantic side like I've been hanging out with them non-stop since I first viewed the film via TBS or some junk in the early 90s. Also, the soundtrack. Like every major 80s Tom Cruise vehicle, the soundtrack kicks major derriere. Kenny Loggins' "Danger Zone" is a bit trite now, but still monumentally enjoyable. Then you add some Otis Redding, Loverboy, and Miami Sound Machine? Whoo boy. I'm set.

The Karate Kid Part II: I honestly don't remember much of anything about the second Karate Kid in comparison to the first, but I just have this gut feeling that I liked it more because there was far less exposition and so much more (ludicrously so even) actual karate that it sated my young kid's appetite for martial arts in a world where Segal and Van Damme could only release so many films for my brother and I to rent and eat Chinese food while watching in his downtown loft apartment. And really, once I emotionally connected to Daniel-son (oh is that where the band got their name?) and Mr. Miyagi, I could follow their next ill-fitting and sparse but ultimately inconsequential story line with a lot more interest: you know, the way movie sequels are supposed to work. It was a simply formula that Karate Kid didn't excel at but satisfied competently. And oh yeah! They had the balls to (spoiler alert? maybe?) kill off Mr. Miyagi, which in retrospect, took some cojones considering that nowadays they'd want to keep the most adored ethnic character of the decade around for as many sequels as possible. So props to the producers/writers for pulling that off!

Ferris Bueller's Day Off: The quintessential and most popular teen film of the 80s is also arguably the best, save possibly a 1985 movie that will get the Quest treatment next month. At first glance, it may seem weird (it did to me) that such a wildly successful and canonical teen film starred Matthew Broderick, someone I at least often automatically pigeonhole as a nervous actor that often plays broken men. He usually does this well, but his addictive carefree attitude as this film's titular character is undeniably magnetic, so much so that you almost wish this sprightly young fellow in the leather jacket without a worry in the world didn't turn into such a complex curmudgeon of a man in his later years. Oh well, I say, because it's possible that because Broderick put so much thoughtless perfection into this role that he experienced the very kind of slow motion decline into cinema apathy. In fact, he's actually much more versed and varied on the stage supposedly, and in many ways Bueller himself was much more a stage character than one from film: he oozed confidence and volume, audacity and idolatry. The camera never got close enough to him (unless he talked to it) to show the layers underneath and rather than that being a pratfall of Hughes' unforgettable masterwork, it exemplified the power of teenagerdom in a way that no one had ever done before and, possibly, will never do again. Uneffingtouchable.

Little Shop of Horrors: I hated musicals when I was a kid. I had absolutely no desire to watch anything in which people randomly decided to start singing and dancing in sync when there were explosions that could be happening or chase scenes that could be going down. Well before I even realized that most of those Disney movies I liked so much were actually musicals, my mom had to break the news to me upon my 7th or 8th viewing of Little Shop of Horrors that it was indeed a musical as well. "You've got to be essing me!" I shouted from the rooftops while I was in the middle of choreographing my own dance, to be performed for my family, to the tune of "Skid Row (Downtown)". But then I watched the movie again, this time with conscious knowledge that it was indubitably classified as a musical, and while I wanted to throw away my love for it, I could not. So I instead told my friends that it was about a killer plant and starred the guy from Honey I Shrunk the Kids so they would watch it with me. Sure they told me I was "gay" or "queer" when they much more quickly realized that it was a musical, but I told them it "broke genre boundaries" because it was "an indefinable and surreal yet emotional mish-mash of genres both exploitative and celebratory." That shut 'em up. So they helped me choreograph some stuff too and it was cool. Best movie of the 80s? Possibly. It gets my vote fo shozies.

Short Circuit: If I hadn't recently procured a five-dollar copy of this film at Target and watched it again with anticipatory glee, followed by a period of concentrated depression, I might argue this was the best of the 1986 bunch. But, unfortunately, with the new re-visited memory firmly lodged in my brain hole, I can say almost nothing but bad things about our beloved robotic star, Johnny 5. The most piercing attribute of the robot-with-feelings film is its ability to trick masses of children into thinking that the Indian-American stereotype is a tame one at best, if not out right encouraged to accept. I mean, c'mon: Fisher Stevens as an Indian computer geek that can't get laid? And is that black face? I dunno, can you call a bad tan and/or spray-tan (did they have that in the 80s?) black face if it's not straight-up paint and not specifically used to turn a white actor into an African-American one? Whatever; the point is that between shenanigans like this, Ally Sheedy slumming it up one year after her breakout role (the same film as the one mentioned in the previous paragraph), and Steven Guttenberg trying to act his way out of a paper bag, there is little to no reason to feel the feelings I once had for a robot with fluttery eyelids whose design possibly got ripped off for the new robot that people have soft feelings for: WALL-E.

The Quest Continues: 1987 AKA The Year of Selleck, Douglas, Murphy, Gibson, and Ahnold

Okay I have finally decided how far back into the 80s I'm going go with this Quest for the Single Finest Film of Our Generation nonsense. I have settled on 1984 to be the last year to be explored and examined, but if at that point I still feel up to continuing this feature (might as well beat a dead horse until it's even more dead, right?) I will go on with my original plan, which was to go back to previously featured years and cover another set of five blockbuster films (still following the no less than the 30th highest grossing film of the year rule, in honor of 1989's Road House, which started this whole thang) from each of them. Also, to make things a little more exciting around here, I am officially making this whole 80s Quest official. So, to recap, the finalist competition for The Quest of TSFFOOG: The 80s Edition include Who Framed Roger Rabbit? of 1988 and Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade of 1989 (just barely edging out my beloved Honey I Shrunk The Kids). So after we pick four more finalists (including this month's) we will do another showdown with the final six films of 1984-1989. Why stop in 84? Quite simple actually; there aren't enough films from 1980-83 that I consider part of my youth. I do hope to rectify that because there is some good cheese from these years that I've never officially seen (Risky Business, Porky's) so that could beget a new feature unto itself. For now though, your blockbusters of 1987...

Three Men And A Baby: How can you beat Ted Danson, Steve Guttenberg, and Tom Selleck in your cast plus Leonard Freaking Nimoy behind the camera? You just can't. And now, during my research, I'm also finding out for the first time that its title was a pun! Apparently "three men and a baby grand" was the term used for when the Rat Pack performed back in the olden days, and when the idea for this film came along, apparently the screenwriter (or producers, maybe) just could help himself. And I applaud him from the future. In all seriousness though, this movie wasn't that entertaining. My mom thought it was hysterical, as she did the sequel Three Men And A Little Lady, but at the end of the day, it was just a movie about three dudes trying to figure out what to do with a baby. It's The Hangover with only the baby plot. That said, I'd take any of these guys over Bradley Cooper any day, but unfortunately it just doesn't play a big role in my movie past. I would like to watch it again though. You know, because why not?

Fatal Attraction: Now this is a damn good movie. In fact, even though I didn't see it in full until college, I just might vote for it. I know, that's completely against my rules, but if you haven't noticed by now, the rules are kinda arbitrary and broken a lot. The fact is that this Michael Douglas cautionary tale on adultery is just straight up one of the most entertaining movies of all time. It wrote the book on sex thrillers (and Lifetime movies, in a way) for years to come and features one of the craziest characters of all time, Glenn Close's Alex Forrest. She's not even that attractive in this movie and yet she just oozes hilarious sex. We watch Michael Douglas get wrapped into having a hot night with her and just watch like we watch a train wreck as his life just falls to pieces in the worst ways possible because, well, that's what happens when you cheat on your wife (with a crazy person). The best part? I watched this movie in a Film Studies class. Can't remember why, but had something to do with the male gaze. Oh and I do technically qualify it for voting because it was always one of those movies that, even when it was obviously edited for basic cable, I would watch a couple minutes of on TV and then turn the channel because I thought I'd see something I shouldn't.

Beverly Hills Cop II: Now the first two Beverly Hills Cop movies are hard to differentiate for me sometimes. Obviously the third one is the one at the amusement park, which was a good marker to make it stand out from the other entries in the trilogy, but the first two have such generic plots about revenge and/or gun smuggling that I really can't remember which is which. That said, I absolutely loved the Axel Foley series when I was a kid. And while many think Lethal Weapon (see below) set the standard for the buddy cop action comedy, the first BHC came first, and I shit you not, was nominated for Best Original Screenplay. So while I'll leave my rambling about the brilliant duo of Eddie Murphy and Judge Reinhold for a future, more deserved Quest entry, I will say this about the second one: there was a lot more action, possibly more explosions than jokes, and I think that was as ballsy as it was stupid, and I think is partly responsible for my later love of the action flick, as I was originally brought to these movies for their comedy. Also, a fourth movie was greenlit in 2006 by none other than Jerry Bruckheimer, but seeing Murphy decline in the 00s, let's hope it doesn't get resurrected and actually made.

Lethal Weapon: Riggs and Murtaugh always struck me as more emotionally damaged and complicated characters than your average buddy cop flick, Beverly Hills Cop included. For that reason, I think the first Lethal Weapon film, and to a lesser extent its sequels, except the fourth one, which just straight up stanked, is a fairly layered piece of cinema, almost bordering on genuinely great. I mean think about it: Mel plays a suicidal widower who drinks himself to the brink of unconsciousness day in and day out with quite the dramatic aplomb and the eternally underrated Danny Glover plays his gruff aging partner, dealing with his any-day-now handshake from the grim reaper in a quiet and reserved yet angsty and explosive manner. These characters are DARK, and yet of course the jokes ensue and the two are very capable comedic performers as well (Glover arguably more than the abrasiveness of Gibson), taking us through yes, a formulaic forgettable plot, but these two characters became archetypes for years to come, becoming less and less memorable and effective as time went on, no one ever matching the beauty that was Shane Black's (often called Hollywood's fuck up genius) perfect creation.

Predator: But then again, if you liked action movies, but couldn't appreciate the deft comedy of an in-his-prime Eddie Murphy or the tenderhearted protagonists of Lethal Weapon, then Predator was probably your big jawn of 1987. That's okay, because honestly, out of all the films listed here, with Fatal Attraction as a minor spoiler, it's probably the number one flick to watch with friends and laugh uproariously at. Especially for us Minnesotans, who get to revel in the wretchedness of former governor Jesse Ventura's acting "talents", this cast, not to mention the titular monster itself, is unbelievable. For Arrested Development fans, you can now get all the meta-jokes if you endure the scenes featuring the overacting ferocity of Carl Weathers. There's also the awesome but short-lived appearance of one of my favorite character actors, Bill Duke, who plays Mac, and whose death in the flick is noted as one of the best on-screen death scenes of all time. I don't want to give it away for those who haven't seen the movie (get on that before Predators starring Adrien Brody comes out this summer!) but let's just say it involves the words "brain" and "splatter" to an extreme effect. Oh, and of course there's Ahnold!

So...which do you vote for?

March Madness: The Animated Films From Our Youth Version

Welcome to a very special edition of The Quest For The Single Finest Film Of Our Generation. A genre that has oft been absent from my monthly musings on the nostalgic films of years past is the animated children's/family movie. Above you will find a tournament bracket (click it for full size) of the 32 animated films from our youth. Now I may be missing some (All Dogs Go To Heaven, Anastasia, and The Rescuers Down Under all come to mind; also, computer animated films were preemptively disqualified), but you weren't at the Triple Rock on Saturday to offer your two cents when this topical idea came to me, so you lost out on brainstorming the key players for this bracket. I highly encourage you to copy/save the JPEG and fill out your bracket (I used MS Paint as my weapon of choice). If you do, email me a copy! Sure you won't be able to wager anything as these films aren't actually going to hit the b-ball court anytime soon, but if you send me a copy, I will use your input to help decide future films to screen at a movie party at my place, attended by Blogulator friends and family in the Twin Cities.

Below you will find my bracket, almost completely filled out, save for the championship spot. It was actually fairly easy to decide the victor of most of these match-ups, but this final epic battle between my two favorite animated films of all time, is quite the dilemma. Robin Hood is the ultimate classic Disney flick based on a timeless tale, and before they were so concerned with having human protagonists! On the other hand, An American Tail proved that you don't need Old Man Walt's blessing to make a touching story with anthropomorphic mice as Russian immigrants succeed! Oh the conflict boils in my abdomen like hellfire! So you there, even if you don't plan on filling out your own bracket, help convince me which is the better film, or rather, which you have more of a nostalgic attachment to. One a lot of saw in the theaters vs. watched solely on VHS, so I wonder if that will end up having something to do with the final championship winner. We will see...in the comments!

How did I organize the initial first round "games" you ask? Well, I pretty simply divided the films into four divisions based on epochs. I even gave them names in my head, which I shall recount for you thusly. Division #1, or The Classics, covers the oldest Disney flicks, from years 1937-1953 and focuses largely on the movies that indisputably carry the most historical and cultural weight from the legendary company. Division #2, or The Baby Boomers, spreads from 1955-1973 and embraces the post-war era of largely animal-centric plots, even when their original stories basically demand a human cast (such as in my beloved Robin Hood, I mean c'mon he's a fox and the king is a lion!). Division #3, or The Renaissancers, from 1981-1995, are a league of Disney movies that run the gamut from true Renaissance pieces that helped rebirth the company's popularity, such as The Little Mermaid and The Beauty & The Beast, but also quieter, earlier fare that over time has gained momentum and support as part of this important movement, such as Oliver & Company and The Fox And The Hound. Last, but certainly not least, we have a couple Disney movies that while successful did not maintain a lot of appeal (at least not by yours truly), along with the non-Disney movies from our youth (and once again by "our" I mean those present during my devouring of a Minneapolis Po'Boy this past Saturday evening) such as The Land Before Time and The Chipmunk Adventure. This, division #4, is known as The Others.

Other notes on the fairness (or lack-thereof) of the first round: some of these match-ups were just plain unfair. If it weren't for the abstract awesomeness of Fantasia, surely Dumbo would have made it at least into the Sweet Sixteen, if not the Elite Eight. I mean, seriously, who can forget how big his ears were? Pretty big! Also, I am quite sad that The Aristocats got beat right out of the gate, because if it weren't for the sheer existence of Tale Spin, Baloo wouldn't have convinced me to let The Jungle Book win that first round, especially because Mowgli and co. got their asses beat in the very next round to the impregnable master of thievery (with a tail!), Monsieur Hood de Robin. Finally, I must mention that A Goofy Movie is only here because I imagine a one P. Arty would be sad if it weren't at least given credit where credit's due. Even before that kinda lame/kinda wonderful College Humor live-action recreation vid went viral, that movie was aces to all the kids that knew, and all yallz didn't even KNOW. You know?

The Quest Continues: The Blockbuster Jams Of 1998

I'm so weary about 1998. I mean, the purpose of this Quest for the Single Finest Film of Our Generation is to find the film whose nostalgia value equals its current re-watch value. These two requirements (nevermind the fact that the Quest officially ended months ago with Home Alone ultimately clinching the title, thanks to your votes) coupled in my mind with the films of 1998, a year when most of us started legally driving cars, either with or without parental supervision. This is a significant year (don't worry, we'll go back to the 80s next month, or you can vote for 1988 here, but I must air these grievances before they make my head explode) because either movies started sucking entertainment value-wise or my brain started idiotically maturing and craving pretentious artsy stuff. Case in point: Saving Private Ryan, A Bug's Life, The Waterboy, and Doctor Dolittle. These four films, all top ten box office grossers for the year in question, all sucked (full disclosure: I never saw A Bug's Life). Sure I gobbled up Spielberg's war epic like everyone else, but I don't think I ever had a desire to see it again or talk about the suspense-riddled battle sequences. Other than that though, I did not enjoy my time at the theater for any of these films. However, I was able to find five films in the top ten that did tickle my proverbial cinema pickle that year, and they are laid out (vote for your fave!) below...

Armageddon: My admiration for this atrocious film proves that I was not as smart as I wanted to be as a 15-year-old, and thus suggests that 1998 does deserve to be a year included on the journey of the Quest (redundant?) as I originally thought (1998 was considered in my original post that kicked off the Quest, but ultimately ignored as the Quest dwindled to its first close). Where's the proof? Well two things come to mind: 1) I once cried at the ending, when the courageous Bruce Willis gave his life so his daughter Liv Tyler could marry Ben Affleck (paging Dr. Freud) as I viewed it for the third or fourth time while sick from school my junior or possibly even senior year, and 2) it was presented in my first college film study class as "the worst movie ever made" with a lot of good arguments made, including the fact that no shot lasts for more than 2-3 seconds, providing a launchpad for the ADD generation that was to follow. Too bad that just made me like the film more. Thus, my official vote goes to Armageddon.

There's Something About Mary: I won't lie. I absolutely loved my first time seeing this movie. Saw it with my brother at the hometown theater on a hot summer weekday afternoon when there were approximately six other people in attendance. The movie had been out for a while at that point and I was excited to finally see that movie that critics both acclaimed and called "gross" simultaneously. A rare treat for teen film dweeb boys. Upon my first viewing (which I'm emphasizing multiple times here on purpose) I was geeking out alongside my brother at all the disgusting gags that (deservedly or undeservedly is up for debate) the Farrelly brothers got away with. That said, upon repeat viewings the only thing that stands up is the Brett Favre joke and Jonathan Richman as the town troubadour. Other than that, it's a big mess of a movie, lacking sympathetic characters and timeless humor, especially because it's the sad kind of funny that can easily get one-upped a couple years later by the next "breakout comedy" - cough cough The Hangover.

Rush Hour: Okay, get over it. I remember vaguely liking Rush Hour when I first saw it. I was one of those pre-teens that went to see those dubbed Jackie Chan movies, so when he finally got a starring role in a big-budget English-language flick, I was interested. Also, Chris Tucker's portrayal of DJ Ruby Rhod in The Fifth Element is one of my favorite performance of all time; nostalgia doesn't even play a factor in that decision. So I just assumed I would think Rush Hour was a hilarious buddy action flick reviving the great tradition of Lethal Weapon or Beverly Hills Cop. Well, I was wrong, and I was also very wrong. But this grand illusion in my 15-year-old brain at least held strong through 1998, and I still have guiltily fond memories of the racist "Do you hear the words that are coming out of my mouth?"-type moments as Chan and Tucker glazed through an uber-mediocre script and came out as two of the worst contributors to late-90s cinema. They shall never be forgiven. [Prediction: Tucker wins an Oscar in 2019.]

Deep Impact: Even as I google image search Deep Impact I swear some of the results are stills from Armageddon. It's too bad because while it doesn't have the laugh-a-minute re-watch value of its more successful competitor, as recent as two-ish years ago I probably would have told you it's the better movie. And in many ways, it is. It's more thoughtful (even if it's equally as saccharine), it's less tacky (even if its emotional manipulations are just as gaudy), and it has freaking Morgan Freeman as president. All that aside, I don't remember anything about this movie and I think I only watched it one additional time when it came out on video. However, I do remember being more touched by it (rather than, say, exclaiming "hellz yeah Amerika!" in my head) than its more brutal and star-studded counterpart.

Godzilla: This is a very bad movie. Very bad. I remember watching it on video a few times when putting together a music video project for my high school Radio & TV class (showing the Chrysler building exploding to stupidly 'symbolize' the lyric "A man drives a plane into the Chrysler building" from Soul Coughing's "Is Chicago, Is Not Chicago") and thinking to myself, I wish this was just a movie about Matthew Broderick's character, and no big monster destroying New York City. On the same token, it was the big event movie of the year and it was also the death knell of big event movies for the next couple years. In that way, it was kind of important I guess? Roland Emmerich went to the ends of the earth special effects-wise (oh the soundtrack too was a sort of death knell of event movie soundtracks, with the Puff Daddy rap over Led Zep's "Kashmir") and still came up short. Nevertheless, I remember being entertained in the theater much in the same way I was during Rush Hour and only harbor minor ill will toward it. As a blooming pretentious kid, I also thought the fact that two characters bearing the resemblance/nomenclature of Siskel and Ebert was clever at the time, although now I just see it as mean-spirited.

The Quest Continues: The Films Of 1988

So here's where things start getting tricky. I only believe I saw two of the films below in the movie theater. But the other three were such monumental staples in my cable TV watching habits as young 'un that they deserve the extended nomination as well. On the outset of the chosen five of the top box office champs of 1988 are two films that I did indeed watch without much concentration one or twice some rainy afternoon: Twins and Rain Man. I believe they deserve mention here, because some of you out there might want to make an argument for them. I do not. Judge Wapner and hilarious mix-ups at birth never tickled my fancy. But if they did for you, let it be heard. For now, let's look at my personal suggestions for the first round of standouts from 1988, after a particular stinging defeat of Honey I Shrunk The Kids by Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade. What will join the ranks of the classic Harrison Ford and Sean Connery team-up vehicle? Let's take a look-see...

Who Framed Roger Rabbit?: As usual, let's start with what gets my vote. Let's face it. Not only was this revolutionary (though can it really be called revolutionary when the only movie that tried to follow in its wake were Cool World?) piece of cinema the original Avatar, where people oohed and ahhhed at something newfangled that the technology of the movies brought to our eyeballs, but gosh darnit, this movie has a great story behind it too, unlike the other. Bob Hoskins proved he could carry a film (though it would be his last time) as a rather dark alcoholic anti-hero (to think I was watching glimpses of film noir when I was only five!) and Christopher Lloyd proved he could be one of the scariest villains ever (my stomach still reels at the thought of that shoe being lowered into that vat of cartoon-killing acid!) and in between them both were layers and layers of intrigue and mystery. Man I wanna watch this right now! Which is exactly the kind of feeling that should be considered most when voting for The Quest.

Coming To America: Then again, we shouldn't just ignore the power of TBS. The network had a profound effect on me as a child, introducing me to the gargantuan subgenre that is the 1980s adult comedy. And yes, the film was largely neutered to the point of inanity, but that's where the video store came in handy. You'd see a film like Eddie Murphy's Coming To America, the first of his movies (by the way) to feature the man playing multiple characters, a motif that America would love for years to come (often, if not always, with little to no reason), and you'd giggle at the way the main characters smiled and didn't understand the ways of the modern world (because he was from Africa, you see, where people talk funny and marvel at consumerist conveniences), but it seemed so harmless. Then you got your mom or your friend's mom to rent the unedited version from Blockbuster for you so you could see the boobs. Double-score!

Big: I think this was more often seen on TNT, often alongside Turner & Hooch (which I hope will be covered at some point during The Quest). Now I've always appreciated the whimsical fancy of Big just as much as the next guy, but I was never really bowled over by it. Even to pre-teen me, I just always found the story and its execution so...vanilla. There's was nothing outstanding to it, nor was there anything particularly unappealing about it either, but it was just there. The FAO Schwartz scene is memorable, yes, as is the jumping-on-the-bed-as-an-adult revelation (I continue to do this at every hotel I frequent to this day), but other than that, Tom Hanks and Penny Marshall seemingly teamed up for a simple, serviceable parable that would attract parents and their kids simultaneously, and for that, it's an admirable business achievement. It's just that it's almost so universal of a tale that it gets bogged down in its lack of definable personal connection. That said, I would love to revisit this in a non-casual non-cable-on-a-laundry-day setting someday to properly evaluate it.

Crocodile Dundee II: Yup, this was one of the highest grossing movies of 1988. And yes, I saw it. In the theaters. Twice. Both with my mom. I was five! Once when it first came out (the original Dundee was a favorite of my dad's, apparently, right next to his favorite film, Das Boot - what a weird spectrum of movie-loving, huh? - so I think we kind of went just out of solidarity for my dad's taste in movies) and another when it was at the second-run Budget Cinemas. I remember busting a gut ten times over...both times. I remember my mom busting a gut ten times over...both times. I don't remember a single thing except for Paul Hogan's leathery tan. Do I ever want to see this movie again? I don't think so, but I wouldn't change the channel if I came across it.

Die Hard: I remember getting little to no echoed sentiments re: Die Hard With A Vengeance after the ill-fated 1995 entry of The Quest, so it is with much trepidation that I even bring up the original here. But by Jove, this little flick (so much more so than any of its successors that it's almost ridiculous) should be viewed at least five times by anyone wishing to call themselves a fan of the bloated American action film. It's such a simple premise (skyscraper held hostage, down-on-his-luck detective has to save the day) that has been done over hundreds of times by now, but none has equaled its brutality, its balance of humor and terror, or its layers upon layers of potential film geek analysis of how Hollywood peaked at its representation of American/foreign economic relations in the 1980s with this movie (sorry, CSCL 1920 is still the best class I ever took!). John McClane is the action genre's most lovable eff-up and Alan Rickman's Hans Gruber still tops the list of best action villains. Yippe-kay-ay, motherlovers!

The Quest Continues: 1989, Or The Year Before The Beginning

What's that, you say? You thought The Quest For the Single Finest Film of Our Generation was over? Well, think again. I just couldn't let go of what quite possibly was the highlight of my 2009 blogging year; I had to bastardize it into an ongoing series. Kinda like when they tried to make a television show out of The Crow. Remember that? Yuck. Ooh, though that move might get a mention when and if we come back around to 1994. You see, what I'm planning to do is just explore years both left undiscussed during the original Quest and those that brim with possible nominees. But we're no longer searching for one particular film to define our ear of cinema adoration. No, we are simply marauding through the ocean of films that in some way helped shape our youth, dropping anchor every month or so to say, "hey! that movie was a blast to watch when I was 10 because ____." If it feels like I'm cheapening the original journey, I'm sorry, but there's just too many pieces of nostalgia to cover in one five-month blogging feature, as ridiculous as that sounds. So once again, I'm going to start with the biggest box office successes of each year I talk about, and work my way down if I come back to that year. Let us start with 1989. Vote for your favorite of the five in the comments and we'll either pretend it will mean something later or if I get ambitious and there's a lot of participation, I'll do another tournament-style face-off of the ten winners after we go through ten more posts!

Batman: My first memory of this film is fuzzy at best. I remember Batman Returns a lot more vividly as it freaked the bazonkers out of me in the theater and as I still maintain to this day that it's Tim Burton's most fully realized fantasy (and should have quit attempting to recreate that for years to come). But other than Jack Nicholson as The Joker, nothing really stands out to me about the original Batman, to be completely honest. But despite Heath Ledger's recent one-upsmanship of the character, up until then I think we can all agree, that Nicholson was the center of attention in this film as well. Let's admit it; Ledger outdid him simply by the fact that he doesn't act like The Joker in public or in other films, whereas Nicholson does, admittedly often to the point of obnoxiousness. But between the years of 1989 and 2007, Nicholson's already solidified persona combined with the mythical excitement of a character like The Joker inside a mainstream flick with flashes of an iconic style that Burton was in the midst of developing is what I believe sparked the Batman character film craze in the first place. Which is prolly pretty important.
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade: I'm going to be honest - I had much better memories of the Indiana Jones series in general before Crystal Skull was unleashed upon us, including an exciting recollection of Temple of Doom. Revisiting all three films in preparation for the fourth's release was probably one of the lamer things I've done in recent years. Raiders still has a little appeal because it started the whole thing and the most famous feats of adventure sequences were in the original, I finally realized why Temple was a joke to most people, and watching Indy and his dad bicker back and forth was entertaining for all of the first 20 minutes of Crusade and that's it. I thought the familial relationship and the sentimental-yet-suspenseful Holy Grail ending made this movie especially memorable not more than a year-and-a-half ago, but Spielberg's half-assed foray back into the legendary character completely ruined all that. Well, maybe I should thank him, otherwise I would have gone on thinking these movies would still be fun to watch 15-20 years later. They're not, and it's sad. But we must move on.

Lethal Weapon 2: Now here's what I'm afraid of. Richard Donner comes out of retirement (oops, my bad, he made 16 Blocks in 2006 starring Bruce Willis as Riggs and Mos Def as Murtaugh) thinking that the Lethal Weapon franchise needs a reboot. Only this time it's not too amiable and arguably talented people like Willis and Def, it's hot young things like Chris Pine and Nick Cannon. Oh how my heart would break. But, at the same time, I would also certainly put myself through a marathon of the original buddy cop movie trilogy (maybe even Lethal Weapon 4 if I found the gall) as I eagerly anticipated the return of the famed line "I'm gettin' too old for this shit!" I am deathly afraid that if this happened, we would have a repeat of the Indiana Jones fiasco. I'm particularly fearful because I cannot tell the difference between any of the first three other than the fact that I know Pesci isn't in the first one. On the other hand, in my head, they're all awesome, full of bomb diffusing, random shootouts, and hilarious quips between two best friends, one of which is the lovable family man and the other the archetypal depressed rogue agent, who inspired everyone from Jack Bauer to Mike Lowery (that's a Bad Boys reference!).

Look Who's Talking: A baby that talks. Voiced by Bruce Willis. And if that doesn't drive you away - his parents are John Travolta and Kirstie Alley. Still interested? Really? Interested enough that not only will you help make the #4 grossing film of its year but also your $4 evening ticket (srsly, isn't THAT depressing?) will go directly toward inspiring TriStar picture to greenlight not one but TWO sequels, the first of which will also feature a baby voiced by Roseanne, and the second of which will feature talking DOGS. Mega-sigh. I deeply regret, America, that my mom and I contributed to the disease known as the Look Who's Talking trilogy not once, not twice, but THRICE. Wow I sure am CAPITALIZING a lot of words in this paragraph! Maybe I'm pissed because this film made almost six times as much money as Sex, Lies, and Videotape that year, or maybe it's because I actually remember laughing hysterically while also being disturbed by the idea of talking sperm along with my mother, but mostly I just think it's because this movie and its sequels plague my memory more so than any of the other movies nominated here, except...

Honey, I Shrunk the Kids: Thank God for Rick Moranis. That's all I have to say. Well, no, it's not, but that's just an expression anyway, right? This is my official vote for this bank of five nominees for 1989. The giant lego, the giant oreo, the giant ant (I shed tears when he passed, SPOILER ALERT), and more all contributed to this being one of, if not the most, eye-widening and deeply entrancing fantasy worlds of my youth. I still remember sitting in that Hartford, Connecticut movie theater and straining my neck to fully take in the enormity of the entire backyard as our protagonists traversed it, inch by adventurous inch (much like how it feels in general for a child in a movie theater full of gigantic figures and special effects, I might add), back into the arms of their parents. Out of all the movies discussed herein, this is the one that I have the most urge to fire back in the DVD player and enjoy with everyone from start to finish, reliving all those glorious moments of mind-boggling absurdity and harrowing escapism. I think I could definitely get back into that groove with ease. Anyone up for trying this one out again with me?

The Quest For The Single Finest Film of Our Generation.

[Cue "The Final Countdown".] Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today to pay special tribute to the films of 1990-1997. Over the course of the past four months, we have discussed together choice box office blockbusters of this particular time period that we do not hold a special place for in our hearts because they are fine works of art, but rather because they are spectacles of the soul. Many may argue about the value in trying to recapture, re-document, or even understand the past, but everyone I believe can agree that the vivacity of nostalgia, the bold currents of electricity that jolt our minds into tizzies of wonder with the thought of a pleasant memory, is strong enough to at least tempt us. And succeed it shall in its temptation, for what other purpose does a pop culture blog hold than to celebrate a life of appreciating the stories that bound us together as a universe of awkward adolescents, the special effects that wowed us with awe, or the sentimental heart string-pulling that let us know emotions could be felt in the safety of a large dark air-conditioned room? Now it is your final task, if you so choose, to declare one of the ten final nominees below as the Single Finest Film of Our Generation in the comments. I bid you good luck and Godspeed, and hope we meet again, in future attempts to hold in our minds (if only for a moment) the unadulterated joy of entertainment cinema...

Home Alone (1990): In an attempt to not repeat myself and also because there's fricking ten movies to talk about here, these blurbs will be short and sweet. Click the title links to revisit the post from which the nomination was originally made. In many ways, it's appropriate that our first nominee on this cumbersome (but totally necessary) list of ten is the famous Macaulay Culkin vehicle. Foremost, I think we all found such a strong connection to the misadventures of solitude that Kevin McCallister endured in 1990. Just like our protagonist did not fully understand the consequences of a life of loneliness until he experienced it firsthand, we only fully immersed ourselves in ultimate fantasy fulfillment when we witnessed the child without the parents, the boy without the adults, alone in our own little world of escapism in that movie theater during the holiday season.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990): Pushed in by a one DoktorPeace (and rightfully so) during the last-minute wild card round. I believe I originally claimed it ineligible due to what I remember being an astonishing amount of artfulness for a movie about anthropomorphic amphibians. And while that deduction still rings true, it does not preclude the very true fact that it is indeed still a movie about naked 14-year-old turtles whose fetishes include early-90s surfer slang, a killer combo of pepperoni and extra cheese, and Judith Hoag (a veritable human hottie). Arbitrary art vs. entertainment debate aside, the original TMNT does indeed deserve proper consideration for your vote because not only is it the quintessential action figure/cartoon/comic book adaptation from our youth, but because as much as we were amused and fueled by little boy testosterone to watch it umpteen times, in its quite literal interpretive translation, there was a turtle living in a sewer, trying to do good, in all of us. Some of us were natural leaders, some of us were tantrum-prone jerks, some of us were goofy class clowns, and some of us were...uhh...Donatello. But the one thing we all had in common? We had yet to become accepted by surface-dwelling adults who had shed their shells long ago.

Point Break (1991): Okay, so forget the whole "brief" thing. I'm just gonna write what I want. Deal with it. Moving on, I'll be honest. Point Break is the only movie on this list of ten that I did not see in the theater when it came out. I didn't see an R-rated movie in the theater until The Crow in 1994 with my brother posing as my "legal guardian." But he was also my gateway into the world of screen violence (and as he told me early on, "the mandatory sex scene") present in the glorious universe of Restricted cinema on home video. The Keanu/Swayze surfing bank robbers action bromance had no resonant emotional connection to the younger, more impressionable version of myself like the aforementioned films, but its ability to morph throughout the years in different capacities of "entertainment" should be noted and considered, as it very well may have been the first 90s action film to successfully retain its seriousness while simultaneously becoming 100% unserious 17 years later.

The Mighty Ducks (1992): You guys voted for this one; not me. I held steadfastly on the strength of Encino Man, and while my ardor for that film has diminished, I can still firmly say that if I had to eliminate one nominee from this otherwise practically flawless list of ten, this would be the one. I'm sorry, folks, I know many of you wear your love for Emilio and his gang of misfits on your sleeves, but I have to be honest here. I only offered up TMD as a possibility in the first place because I felt some kind of vague obligation to do so, like I would be banished from Childhood Film Recollection Club if I had left it off the table for discussion. Did it instill some kind of underdog belief system in so many of us at such an influential age that to leave it in the past would be some kind of heinous act against our own code of ethics? Possibly. Or maybe it's just that it really is the perfect "buck up, nerd!" story of our youth and to deny its supremacy is to deny our own former selves. Maybe.

Jurassic Park (1993): I think we all know it sticks out like a sore thumb, and unlike my dissent of the only film to inspire a professional sports team name, I can speak to little to no ill of the one, the only JP. I, like so many others, had been fascinated by all things dinosaur years prior to Spielberg's stab at the subject, so much so that one of my mom's favorite stories is when our priest asked me once "do you have any questions about what you're learning in Sunday School?" and I responded, "no, but why did God kill off the dinosaurs?" I don't think he answered my question, but I knew the answer some years later when I sat in a sold-out theater, mouth agape with Milk Dud residue on my teeth, scared out of my wits that Newman would get eaten by those oil-spitting creatures. If God didn't kill the dinosaurs, we wouldn't have Jurassic Park eons later. And thus, for a brief moment in time, the cinema became a twisted house of prayer.

Speed (1994): For everything Point Break did for the action genre three years earlier, Speed arguably did better only three years later. So much so that, as Qualler has pointed out, it may even transcend entertainment value and head into downright art territory. But we can't dwell on this kind of nonsense too long. The truth of the matter is that Speed is possibly in my opinion, Jurassic Park included, the only film on this list with infinite re-watch power. Its distinct three gimmicky acts (elevator, bus, subway) are so meticulously crafted with such an endless supply of taut tension combined with the dopey heroism of Keanu, the manic obnoxiousness of Sandra Bullock, and the crazed villainy of Dennis Hopper that its magnetism is impossible to deny, much less quantify. It was childish and kooky enough to wrap me into its tentacles of velocity and intensity, but also masterful enough in its ridiculousness to admire as an adult, and hopefully, for years to come.

Batman Forever (1995): The second and final last-minute addition to the list of nominees due to a well-justified double-vote in the wild card round. Bravo and kudos to Unspar and Qualler for their incredibly thoughtful cases presented in favor of including the death of the greatest superhero franchise ever began into the Quest. They opened my eyes to understanding, nay, appreciating, what was once viewed by many (present company included) one of the worst pockmarks on the history of American cinema (which in my experience, included only the films of the 90s, and some from the 80s). It is, still, without a doubt, one of the most heartbreaking memories of all time, going to see Batman Forever on opening day, waiting in line, and hearing some jackass say "Batman dies in the end!" as he leaves the theater. Possibly more heartbreaking? Batnipples. But as Unspar points out in his comment nomination, the very reasons Batman Forever seemed so terrible back in the day are what make it so appealing to revisit again today.

Bad Boys (1995): Okay, so screw you guys. I know it has no chance whatsoever at winning, and would inevitably place last if these ten films were ranked amongst us all. And I know I threw a little bit of a hissy fit when seemingly no one besides myself had even seen the should-be infamous buddy action flick starring Will Smith and Martin Lawrence during the original Quest of 1995. And I know no one should really be exulting and waxing nostalgic about the film that catapulted Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay into Hollyweird's spotlight. And I know it's just a watered down version of 48 Hours, the Lethal Weapon series, and Beverly Hills Cop, all of which are B-grade action flicks from the 80s. But C'MON! This was MY watered down buddy action flick starring former sitcom actors with hyper-stylized editing and flashy gunfights and subpar quips only made notable by the volume and density of cuss words delivered by Smith and Lawrence's characters. I mean, seriously, C'MON! Where WERE you people in 1995?!

Independence Day (1996): It wanted to be the event of the decade so bad that it practically willed itself into being such. If Will Smith didn't get his just desserts a year earlier in a drug bust/machismo cop flick, he surely did as the dude with an underdeveloped bromance with Harry Connick, Jr. and a knack for punching squid aliens directly in the face. Basically this, Vivica A. Fox's dog somehow jumping out of the path of a booming city-wide fireball at the last second, and Bill Pullman's "thinking face" remain the most memorable points of this generation-defining film, even after dozens and dozens of viewings. A less thoughtful me would vote ID4 with unyielding enthusiasm and blind joy, but upon further inspection, while it is and forever will be a high point of my movie-going youth, it by no means is a masterpiece, either in the moment, or in retrospect. But then again, maybe that's exactly what makes it the Single Finest Film of Our Generation? [Slight pause.] Naw.

I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997): And once again, if these films were ranked, as we faded from the glory of pure movie enjoyment in this final year post-ID4 apex, Kevin Williamson's prime example of "coattail cinema" would surely be toward the bottom, just above the film that no one besides me saw during the 90s. Was the slasher boom of the late 90s that followed this formulaic yet admittedly satisfying both terrible and awesome? Surely. Can the source that it's attributed truly be the Single Finest Film of Our Generation? Surely not. As we officially became teenagers as the teenagers of this film got killed off one by one, we as well died a little on the inside as we came to coat a new lens of film appreciation and analysis over our eyes, so as a turning point, IKWYDLS is the perfect transition piece. But like the falling action of every movie's plot, the falling action of our most viciously vivid love with the silver screen is not as notable or enjoyable, but is necessary. So thank you Mr. Williamson, for partaking in our journey through the years; be proud enough to be the man that killed our youth and let us enter into a new dark and scary world of endlessly trying to recreate our salad days.

"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." -F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

The Quest of the Wild Card: The Single Finest Film of Our Generation?

We have traversed through booby trap-laden hallways. We have skated swiftly on the ice of Midwestern team spirit. We have surfed vehemently into epic crashing waves and Presidential-themed bank robberies gone awry. We have journeyed amongst majestic prehistoric creatures and Jeff Goldblum's sweeping neuroses. We have driven wildly past the heart of danger that is the Los Angeles freeway and entered the chasm of terror known as Dennis Hopper's maniacal laugh. We have battled notoriously against extraterrestrial invaders of our planet with the help of a truly Fresh Prince and other, more forgettable menfolk. And most recently, and almost certainly most benignly, we have been slashed and hooked amidst supple teen flesh on the docks of a pleasantly generic upper-middle-class seaside American town. The Quest for the Single Finest Film of Our Generation, my friends, is nearly over. Here are your finalists...

Home Alone, The Mighty Ducks, Point Break, Jurassic Park, Speed, Independence Day, and I Know What You Did Last Summer

Think hard. Think deeply. Use the gut and whimsy that led you to so many ill-fated but eternally nostalgic decisions from your youth to ponder over the next two weeks your number one from this group of fine fine films. Because, in the end, only one can be the finest. Only one can outrank all other films (as narrowed down by me) from our glory days of cinema (as determined by me). Yes, I seem to have usurped much power from this process, but thus, my friends, is the beauty of democracy. I use you as my pawns to determine my own feelings about my childhood. Hopefully you can find some blah blah blah to help you understand your own past love for cinematic blah blah, but ultimately, I think we all know this Quest is as personal as it is universal, if not more so. So, let me use you, and allow these two weeks to help you in some way identify your own number one theatrical high from your youth. What grabbed you by the balls/uterus and didn't let go upon that first viewing, only to find years later that that pure childlike wonder not only translates to an enjoyable viewing in your twenties, but also makes for a fine laugh-out-loud rebuke of past tastes and treasures. What brings you to a Road House-esque level of bewilderment and riotous raucous that adolescents from the 80s certainly experienced?

But before you answer that on November 10th, there is another, more treacherous element of democracy that we indeed must consider as well. The Wild Card. As your benevolent dictator of cinema nostalgia, I must at least let you grovel for a bit until the final voting period opens up. So let this be your forum. What films from your youth signify not only a time and place in which your tastes were unbound by artfulness or intelligence, but also now represent a conscious shift in movie enjoyment? What cinema treasure beckons you to find its curious entertainment value all over again 11-19 years-ish later, only to be rejoiced with crowded apartment viewing featuring snide comments and snobbish laughter? The joy is still there for me when watching these movies, it just manifest itself in a new and exciting way, equally as relentless, but magnified through a different lens. You are by no means required to follow my convoluted mess of rules when nominating Wild Card candidates, but in case you're curious, here are my guidelines once again...

-Released between 1990-1997, the most vividly joyous years of adolescent cinema-viewing, in my estimation
-Must be in the Top 50 of the Box Office for its year, to satisfy the argument of universal cultural relevance
-Must have been viewed at least three times during the years in question, plus at least a desire to rewatch again as an adult must be prevalent
-The first viewing(s) must be concrete nostalgic memories of epic proportion, constituting an impactful childhood movie-going/renting experience
-Cannot be genuinely good, meaning the emotions derived and artfulness learned from said film in one's youth cannot be directly similar to the emotions derived from or artfulness appreciated from viewing as an adult

Let the Wild Card ranting begin! Fill the comments with the films that have not been mentioned that you would like to make one final argument for including the final nominations. I will choose between 1-3 of the best arguments (or most backed up, so second someone else if you agree with them) from the comments section to add to the current list of seven. Here are some examples that have come up throughout the Quest to start you off...

Mrs. Doubtfire, Free Willy, Under Siege, Little Big League, Dave, Sleepless in Seattle, Rookie of the Year, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The American President, Apollo 13, French Kiss, Now and Then, Mallrats, Sneakers, The Fifth Element (begrudgingly)

And some others grabbed from Googling the Box Office receipts for 1990-1997...

Ghost, Total Recall, Kindergarten Cop, Flatliners, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, City Slickers, The Addams Family, Father of the Bride, Backdraft, Hot Shots!, Lethal Weapon 3, Sister Act, A League of Their Own, Patriot Games, Honey I Blew Up the Kid, Cliffhanger, Cop and a Half, The Three Musketeers, The Santa Clause, The Flintstones, Clear and Present Danger, The Mask, Maverick, Batman Forever, Casper, Waterworld, Species, Mission: Impossible, The Rock, The Nutty Professor, Phenomenon, Eraser, Men in Black, Liar Liar, Conspiracy Theory, Dante's Peak, Anaconda

The Quest of 1997: The Single Finest Film of Our Generation?

Here it is, folks. The last official round of voting for determining the final nominees for the Single Finest Film of Our Generation. Yes, I will post a quick Wild Card round post next week touching on all the random flicks from 1990-1997 that I missed during my initial aggregation of contenders and/or have been nominated by you, the readers, at some point in the comments section, but other than that, this is it. Then, on November 10th, we will find ourselves with a winner from the following list of eligible films (plus two): Independence Day, Speed, Jurassic Park, The Mighty Ducks, Point Break, and Home Alone. It'll almost be as confusing as having eight (much less ten!) Best Picture nominees. Whoa, that just gave me an idea. What if there was an All-Time Oscars? Or even just a Decade Oscars? That would be awesome. Anyway, enough of that. The nods for the least nostalgic year and/or the year where our intense love for the cinema dominated and sometimes overly influenced our tastes as adolescents for approximately the last time, go to...

Air Force One: I ran out to the mailbox to get my hands on it, as I did every week. I thumbed straight through to the movie review section. Yes, it was true. Entertainment Weekly gave the Harrison Ford-as-president movie an A. I still remember what that issue felt like in my hands when, for the first time in my recollection as a budding teenager, an action film was "given the recognition it deserved" by a major critic. Some of the words that Owen Gleiberman (or Lisa Schwarzbum, I don't remember) used were beyond my understanding, but from what I could tell, they finally gave an A to a guns-n-explosions flick because it was "serious" and "triumphant." This is all in my head, mind you. I have no desire to go re-read that review for fear of interpreting it a completely different fashion. But that was it for me, for better or worse. I loved the mildness and sterility of Wolfgang Petersen's venture into the airplane action-drama subgenre (I also loved Executive Decision!) because EW told me to. But what matters is that at the time, it felt so good to cheer in my head when Ford yells at Gary Oldman, "get off my plane!" even though the movie was kinda boring.

Con Air: Now "mild" and "sterile" are definitely two adjectives not to be uttered when discussing the great Con Air. Instead, I would suggest that "fireball!" and "shit yeah!" would be more appropriate. And yes, the exclamation marks are totally necessary. Man, where to start with this one. Let's free associate, as I'm sure that's what Bay and Bruckheimer did while sculpting this piece of work. Dave Chappelle running and trying to catch up with the plane, Nicolas Cage's mullet and southern accent, John Malkovich giving this movie as much energy (if not more) and vitriol as any other film or play he's ever acted in, Ving Rhames being quintessential Ving Rhames, John Cusack and his hippie sandals and sunglasses, "Sweet Home Alabama" ad nauseum, and last but certainly not least, Steve Buscemi talking about wearing someone's head as a hat. What else do you want? That list right there should have made making this movie illegal, but it somehow found its way into cinemas with myself trembling with excitement as it began. (I felt really nervous about sneaking into this one at 14! I thought for sure Austin Powers would be the only awesome movie I saw that day!) All this and yet, there's still something that it's missing to really clinch the deal. What is it? Oh, methinks the answer lies below.

The Devil's Advocate: One simple beautiful word/extraterrestrial-sounding moniker, my friends. Keanu. Yes, I'm sorry, but I believe my hypothesis made about Keanu being our generation's Swayze may indeed be true. In fact, he may be even more than that. Already he's the only star to be in two of the final nominees for The Quest, possibly soon to be three, but instead of transitioning into a new "Finest Films" star for the 00s as his reign over the 90s came to a close, the man starred in the mothereffing Matrix. Mr. Reeves is so powerful that instead of passing the baton to a new so-bad-it's-good star, he retains his status and ups it a notch by starring in a film millions of people loved totally un-ironically. Amazing, right? Well, The Devil's Advocate may be one of his lesser-appreciated works, but it shouldn't be. Especially with Al Pacino playing the ACTUAL devil (unlike Meryl Streep totally NOT playing the devil in The Devil Wears Prada). And what happens when you have an already hyperactive insidious star like Pacino play the devil and Reeves as the doe-eyed protagonist? A dark delight of sinful pleasure and magnificent terror. That's what. It was even more scarring to watch than Con Air, and while this one I saw "legally" with my brother as my official guardian, I still remember feeling all icky and freaked out when leaving the budget theater. Then I realized that was just the Dots on the soles of my shoes, so I bought my own copy of this convoluted thriller previously viewed at Blockbuster and got totally mesmerized by how Keanu fights and (spoiler alert!) somehow wins against moral turpitude and demonic grandeur. It's a ridiculously awesome movie that I want to watch every time I think about it. That's a surefire sign of a bonafide Quest candidate.

I Know What You Did Last Summer: I don't want to diminish the competition though. Yes, Con Air and The Devil's Advocate are two of the most high octane mind-melters discussed throughout this entire journey, but there's something to be said for a warmed over teen slasher flick like IKWYDLS. First of all, take a look at that mouthful of a title. Wowzers! I've always been fascinated by titles of things, especially when they're even the least bit unique, so of course add an awkward title, the screenwriter from Scream, and the fact that it's based off a Lois Duncan novel (yeah I ate all her crap up during middle school silent reading), and you're guaranteed at least three viewings. Oh and don't forget about my first official teen crush: Ms. Jennifer Love Hewitt. I still kinda crush on her, but back in 1997, hoo boy, you did not want to hand me a magazine with her on the cover while I was standing up with nothing to hide my bottom front quadrant behind. Even better? The plot and actors were terrible, but Williamson knows how to deliver shoddy entertainment in a serviceable way no matter how bland or milquetoast its contents are. Everything was dark blue at night and bright yellow in the day time, making it visually striking to my 14-year-old brain while not being too weird, and it was essentially just a string of foot chases put together into a loose narrative. And I HEART foot chases! Way better than car chases. Some of you may have heard me rant about this before, so I'll stop before I get ahead of myself.

Breakdown: But there's always gotta be a dark horse. And here it be. If I were a braver person, I would put all my money behind this Kurt Russell suspense vehicle. In fact, just last night, Brigitte, Qualler, and I were discussing the severe absence of true suspense movies in the film landscape nowadays. Like suspense movies that are actually thrilling, sometimes even bordering on the horror genre. And I tell you what, the dearly departed JT Walsh as a morally ambiguous truck driver would still haunt my dreams if I were to revisit this classic, which I have wanted to do for a very long time, but I have never found a reason to replace my now-lost taped-off-HBO VHS. Anyone interested? This of course almost immediately disqualifies Breakdown, in which Russell and wife Kathleen Quinlan encounter the eponymous problem, only to be helped/kidnapped/terrorized by Walsh and crew for a relentless 90-some minutes, from getting my vote for the Quest, but it does deserve at least this much recognition. It's an intense film that takes place almost completely in the desert, and Russell is one of my all-time favorites (have I mentioned my love for Executive Decision yet? I wish he got more work nowadays!), therefore when you see sand stain Russell's jeans or the humidity cause him to sweat non-stop, you almost feel it yourself. That's how intense it is! I'm serious! Let's all go watch Breakdown! PLEASE?!?!?!!!

Vote for your totes fave in the comments, of course!