As we’ve discussed already, we reckon 2015 has been a pretty good year for movies so far. A bunch of festival favorites from 2014 have finally arrived in theaters and found wider audiences, brand new movies have arrived to great acclaim, there’ve been a few blockbusters as good as any we’ve seen in years in “Mad Max: Fury Road” and “Inside Out,” and Sundance, Cannes and other film festivals brought a new selection of tantalizing pictures that’ll be unveiled to mass audiences over time.
But it’s not all been milk and honey, unfortunately. For every great or very good film, there’s been a crushing disappointment, a total trainwreck or a barely-watchable, deeply offensive insult to anyone’s intelligence. Bad movies aren’t going anywhere, and barely a week pops by without something deeply stupid hitting theaters.
There’s a value to a bad movie, though: it’s possible that filmmakers may not repeat those mistakes. Now that we’ve crossed the official midpoint of 2015, we’ve picked out the 20 worst films of the year so far. Let us know your least favorites, or if you want to defend one of our picks, in the comments.
“Any Day” (original review)
Perhaps searching for a role where he doesn’t die at the end (a quest that also led him to “Jupiter Ascending” this year: maybe it’s time to rethink that strategy…), Sean Bean toplined “Any Day,” which is equal parts miserabilist mid-period Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu knockoff and faith-based drama. Rustam Branaman’s film sees Bean’s puzzlingly-named Vian released from prison after killing a man in a drunken fight and being put up by his sister (Kate Walsh) and her young son, with a new job and promising new romance giving him the chance to start over. The film is essentially plotless and doesn’t have enough engaging on a scene-by-scene level (the performances are merely serviceable) until a demented third act that sees tragedy pile on tragedy and a religious subplot kick in, leading to the cruelest "god-has-a-plan" "triumph" since Mel Gibson’s wife got cut in half with a car so she could deliver the message that Joaquin Phoenix should hit an alien with a baseball bat in “Signs.” Nicholas Sparks might envy the craziness of the ending, but the rest of us resent not only that, but the two-thirds of the film that came before it.
“The Cobbler” (original review)
Adam Sandler in serious mode can be a great thing: just look at the masterful “Punch Drunk Love,” or Judd Apatow’s undervalued “Funny People.” But he hasn’t had a great run of it more recently, and if you made Jason Reitman’s “Men Women & Children” and then this, the biggest flop of your career, it’s no wonder that you’d turn back to the warm arms of dumb comedies for Netflix. What’s particularly disappointing about “The Cobbler,” in which Sandler plays a shoe-repairman who discovers he can magically turn into his customers when he puts on their footwear, is that it comes from writer-director Thomas McCarthy, who’s done such sterling work on “The Station Agent,” “The Visitor” and (to a lesser extent) “Win Win.” The director comes enormously unstuck here, despite Sandler being relatively invested in his performance and a strong supporting cast (Dustin Hoffman, Steve Buscemi, Dan Stevens, Melonie Diaz and Ellen Barkin), with a film that melds a sort of high-concept “Click”-type comedy with a sub-Michel Gondry look at community. The nicest thing you could say about the film is that it’s probably well meaning, but there’s a pretty offensive and racist undercurrent, such an oddly dour tone, and such inept storytelling that you suspect that McCarthy was replaced by a pod person.
“Entourage” (original review)
“Sex And The City” was a pretty good TV series. It was narrow-minded in some ways, and it quickly dated, but was consistently strong and entertaining. Yet its reputation has been tarnished in a big way by the two movies that followed it, which double-downed on the worst elements of the series (the enormous privilege of the characters, tone-deafness, crassness) while losing the best. As far as we can tell, when “Entourage” creator Doug Ellin came to make his own spin-off of his own HBO series, he used “Sex And The City 2” as a model, and came up with a movie just as plotless, queasy and loathsome as the final adventure of Carrie and her friends. Focusing on the lousy-looking directorial debut of Vinny Chase with various negligible subplots and supermodel-banging in the background, hardcore fans of the show surely found something to like, but hardcore fans of the show would probably would have been happy with a tatty issue of Maxim from 2001 and a tape recorder with Jeremy Piven shouting the word "fuck" a lot. Which is essentially what this film is. Baring even less relationship to reality than most Hollywood satires and featuring cameos from the glittering likes of Andrew Dice Clay, David Arquette, Kelsey Grammer and David Spade, it’s a movie so bad that, in the “Entourage” universe, it probably would have made four billion dollars and won 24 Oscars.
"Fifty Shades of Grey" (original review)
Yes, this film is a great deal better than the book. But since the book is simply one of the worst things to have ever existed, that still allows plenty of room for Sam Taylor-Johnson‘s film version of "Fifty Shades of Grey" to be all manner of dreadful. And indeed it is, since while a certain flat gloss to the filmmaking and an above-par performance from Dakota Johnson in a thankless role compensate for the crushing borderline illiteracy of the source novel’s prose, certain other elements are not lost in translation to the screen, unfortunately. Namely, the plot, the gender politics, the vomity driven-snow "purity" of the heroine, the fawning, tone-deaf Randian adoration of Expensive Stuff. But perhaps all of that could have been forgiven, or at least have kept the film from the ignominy of this list, if it had actually done what it promised and provided a progressive, even transgressive perspective on sexuality and the nature of power play within BDSM relationships. Or failing that, some actual smut, goddammit! But instead, we get an entirely flaccid Cinderella story which wears its "Twi-lite" credentials on its sleeve in characterizing Christian (Jamie Dornan) as a creature so wholly unreal he might as well be a sparkly vampire.
“Get Hard” (original review)
Will Ferrell is demonstrably funny. Kevin Hart is also demonstrably funny. So teaming that pair up in a film directed by “Tropic Thunder” scribe Etan Cohen and penned by “Key & Peele” showrunners Jay Martel and Ian Roberts should have led to hilarity, right? Wrong. So very, very wrong. “Get Hard,” which did dispiritingly well at the domestic box office this spring was a ludicrously creaky comedy, the kind of exercise you can imagine Chevy Chase starring in as his star started to fade, and even in the late 1980s it probably would have unacceptable on a number of levels. Ferrell plays a wealthy hedge fund manager framed for a Ponzi-style embezzlement scheme and sentenced to ten years in prison, and who, assuming his car washer (Hart) has been in prison because he’s black, asks for a crash-course in life on the inside. Maybe there was a way of approaching that premise that wasn’t offensive, or at least toed the line in a “Trading Places” sort of way, but “Get Hard” instead relies on a string of gags about race and sexuality that are so out of step with the time that you wonder how a lot of smart people involved at all levels of productions could have let it happen. It’s a waste and rivals “Bewitched” as Ferrell’s worst movie.
“Home Sweet Hell”
Having publicly trash-talked her biggest hits “Knocked Up” and “Grey’s Anatomy” and having her brief rom-com lead career run dry, Katherine Heigl is in need of a comeback. She’s actually pretty good in “Jackie & Ryan,” per our review, but any hope of an upswing with “Home Sweet Hell” wasn’t just quashed, but was obliterated once (a very small handful of) people saw it. Like a Coen Brothers black comedy film made by someone who hates the Coen Brothers, black comedy and films, it sees Heigl and Patrick Wilson as a married couple, Don and Mona Champagne (urggh), whose life of not-bliss is interrupted when Wilson starts an affair with gangster’s moll Jordana Brewster, eventually ending in blackmail and Mona’s suggestion that they kill the moll. Heigl attacked “Knocked Up” for its perceived sexism, which makes it doubly puzzling that she’d sign up for this film, perhaps the most aggressively misogynistic film that we’ve seen in some time, with Heigl’s character alternating between repressed, Type A shrew and manic psycho (and being awful at both). Tone-deaf, never even remotely funny and crudely plotted, it’s the kind of film that you need a long shower after —even then, you won’t feel any better.
“Jupiter Ascending” (original review)
We so wanted to love “Jupiter Ascending.” There are Playlist contributors who are great defenders of the Wachowskis‘ last couple of movies “Speed Racer” and especially “Cloud Atlas,” and we’re always hoping the siblings will return to the giddy heights of “The Matrix.” Channing Tatum is turning into one of the great movie stars of this generation, and the film looked like the kind of original, non-franchise grand-canvas sci-fi adventure that we’re all crying out for. Even with disappointed advance word, we went into the movie optimistic, and had our hopes sadly crushed by a film that wasn’t even enough fun to qualify as a guilty pleasure. A sadly miscast Mila Kunis starred as a humble immigrant cleaner who learns via Tatum’s part-wolf intergalactic bounty hunter that she’s a genetic clone of the Queen of the Universe and is wooed by three feuding siblings (Eddie Redmayne, Douglas Booth and Tuppence Middleton), in a lavish sci-fi adventure that nevertheless felt like you’d seen it all before (in part thanks to the film’s eye-melting, and not in a good way, excess of CGI). Every so often, it felt like it brushed against the self-awareness that a film involving an elephant pilot, a Terry Gilliam cameo and a character called Chicanery Night should have, but this was mostly po-faced, surprisingly regressive in its gender politics (Kunis spends essentially the entire movie being rescued) and almost no fun at all.
"Kingsman: The Secret Service" (original positive review)
There is one clever thing about the wilfully unclever ‘Kingsman’ —by introducing elements of ’70s Bond pastiche into a film that is far more a ’70s Bond homage, it gets to have its cake and have anal sex with it. The film’s fans, of whom there are depressingly many, can therefore claim that detractors just didn’t get the joke when we complain about its treatment of women, its homophobia, its sickening glorification of the ugliest violence, its shoddy filmmaking —it’s "sending up" those elements, innit, fans claim. However, its finer impulses —Eggsy (Taron Egerton, a legitimate find), overcoming the class system, learning about teamwork etc— those are… valid points the film is actually making? There is no premise elastic enough to contain all these contradications, so instead we get lowest-common-denominator sensationalism slathered in limp justifications —ordinarily, you might feel bad about Colin Firth assassinating a church full of people, but not to worry, they’re bigots, which makes it all terrific fun instead! Serial offender Matthew Vaughn tops even his own back catalogue for sheer obnoxiousness here, delivering a film whose ultimate irony is in how those who didn’t "get" its corrosive, debilitating cynicism get to accuse everyone else of not "getting it."
“Monsters: Dark Continent” (original review)
2010’s “Monsters” was maybe the most ingenious indie genre film of the last five years, finding director Gareth Edwards setting himself up for future “Godzilla” and “Star Wars” gigs by taking a micro-budget and turning it into blockbuster-sized scope with enormous resourcefulness while still doing some compelling work with character. Sequel “Monsters: Dark Continent”… does not. Well, that’s not entirely true. Tom Green’s follow-up, linked to the first film only by an exec producer credit for Edwards and having some monsters in it, manages to achieve some hugely impressive visuals on a limited sum, with a few money shots that can compete with anything mega-blockbusters have offered this year. The trouble is that the film offers nothing beyond that. The “Aliens” to the first film’s “Alien,” this movie turns into a war film, with a group of American soldiers (played by British actors, not so much underwritten as unwritten) setting out to rescue some friendly troops in an area where they’re under threat from both the looming creatures and insurgents. It’s thinly plotted, badly written, deeply sexist (this is a world where women are not allowed to both talk and have their clothes on), politically both obvious and questionable, and just plain boring. Frankly, it doesn’t deserve to carry the name “Monsters.”
“Mortdecai” (original review)
After spending most of the ’00s on top of the world, Johnny Depp’s had a rough several years: only the critically savaged fourth “Pirates of the Caribbean” made big bucks, and big-budget vehicles “Dark Shadows,” “The Lone Ranger” and “Transcendence” each hit that very particular kind of failure known as ‘completely shitting the bed.’ Let’s hope that this fall’s “Black Mass” marks a turnaround, because “Mortdecai” feels like it would be difficult for Depp to dip any lower. Reteaming with his “Secret Window” director David Koepp and based on a series of novels by Kyril Bonfiglioli, it sees the star play an aristocratic art dealer and conman who’s enlisted by the British police to retrieve a stolen Goya. It’s an attempt to revive a sort of ’60s caper picture, but like “Gambit” a few years ago, it ends up feeling brutally dated. In part, this is because Koepp can’t settle on a tone, vacillating between broad parody and something closer to adult thriller. In main, it’s because Depp’s recent string of increasingly cartoonish performances reaches its zenith with a manically mugging, desperately unfunny turn, like Terry Thomas if he’d snorted way too much cocaine. This film is so bad that even a brief appearance from Jeff Goldblum feels unwelcome.
“Outcast”
What, you really thought this list was going to go up without a Nicolas Cage film? Like fellow once-respected actors Adrien Brody and John Cusack (though the latter’s on the comeback trail in a big way with “Love & Mercy”), Cage is looking to the east for a revival of his career with “Outcast” marking his first Chinese-made picture. It’s probably not the worst film he’s ever made (there is stiff competition as such), but it’s still flat and uninspired enough to more than deserve its place here. It pairs Cage with Hayden Christensen, who’s somehow still booking gigs well over a decade after he proved objectively that he can’t act with the “Star Wars” prequels, as a pair of crusaders enlisted to protect the younger brother of the despot-in-the-making who’s targeted him for assassination. It should be said that the film has a certain degree of style and does a decent job at eking out some degree of production value. But the story’s highly derivative and mostly uninteresting, Christensen’s exactly as flat as you might imagine, the Chinese actors fare little better, and Cage continues to chew the scenery to increasingly diminishing effect. Once, the idea of him essentially riffing on Toshiro Mifune would have been exciting. Now, it’s just depressing.
“Paul Blart Mall Cop 2”
Potentially unpopular opinion: Kevin James could have been a good movie star. In his first big-screen appearance, in “Hitch,” he was warm, likeable, displayed chemistry with his co-stars and showed off the comic timing that had made him popular as both a stand-up and a sitcom star. But in the decade since, James has made nothing but lousy, lowest-common-denominator choices, with “Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2” marking something like the bottom of the barrel. It might be easy to pick up on something like a sequel to James’ earlier sleeper-hit, which relocates his semi-competent, hypoglycaemic security guard to Vegas, where he has to foil another heist. It’s the ultimate critic-proof film, made for kids and even less demanding audiences. There’s no reason that something like this couldn’t succeed on the level to which it aspires, but Andy Fickman’s film doesn’t appear to have any aspirations beyond ‘we have enough footage to make it to 94 minutes,’ resetting Blart to zero (if his love interest from the previous film left him after six days, why would we care about him?), and then lazily replaying the plot of the first film. Even James’ likability fails him here (he punches an elderly woman in the stomach at one point), leaving a film that has literally not a single thing to recommend it.
“Serena” (original review)
Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence are pretty much on top of the world right now. They have three Oscar nominations apiece in the last five years (and one win for Lawrence), have toplined megahits (the top three grossing films of 2014, for instance), and have previously starred together in commercial and critical hits “Silver Linings Playbook” and “American Hustle.” So given that it was an adaptation of an acclaimed novel by Oscar-winner Susanne Bier, there was every reason to be excited about “Serena.” Well, at least until the film was delayed for years and eventually snuck out on VOD and a brief theatrical run. And little wonder: though “Serena” isn’t the worst film on this list, it might be the most disappointing, a mostly inept and entirely boring period picture that’s likely to be brushed over on the stars’ CVs in years to come. Based on Ron Rash’s book, it sees Cooper’s lumber tycoon taking Lawrence’s enigmatic title character as his bride, forming an ambitious partnership that soon leads to murder and more when Serena discovers she can’t have children. The story comes across like it should be narrated by Will Ferrell’s character from “The Spoils Of Babylon,” and could have been more engaging with a director who embraced the batshit craziness (Cooper’s character is randomly eaten by a cougar at the end, for instance), but Bier’s too tasteful for that, so the end result is tepid, entirely miscast and badly told.
“The Seventh Son” (original review)
Long delays don’t have to mean that a project is in trouble. “Mad Max: Fury Road,” for instance, began shooting at the beginning of 2012, spent nearly two years in post production, and turned out to be the best action movie in decades. The same unfortunately can’t be said for “The Seventh Son.” Intended to fill the gap left by the “Harry Potter” series, this adaptation of a young adult series began shooting at the same time as “Fury Road,” spent as long to get to theaters, with a number of release dates whizzing past, and even changed studios (Legendary having moved from Warner Bros. to Universal along the way). But then, it sucks really hard. Directed by “Mongol” helmer Sergei Bodrov in what seems likely to be his only English-language picture, the film sees witch-hunter Jeff Bridges (giving an identical performance to his last few paycheck gigs) finding a new apprentice in the wildly uncharismatic shape of Ben Barnes to battle the evil Julianne Moore, nearly Norbit-ing her Oscar. There’s occasionally nifty design work at play, but the performances are dire bar Alicia Vikander, and the action is interchangeable with “Snow White & The Huntsman,” “47 Ronin” and all the other sub-standard fantasy movies of late.
“Strange Magic” (original review)
The return to filmmaking, if ‘story credit on an animated movie seemingly released through contractual obligation’ can be considered a return, for George Lucas, “Strange Magic” arrives at a time when we’ve come to expect more and more from animated features, thanks to masterworks from Pixar to Miyazaki. Despite being a musical set among fairies, it doesn’t so much call back the classic age of animation as the days when you’d find things like “Ferngully” and “The Pagemaster” clogging up theaters in search of a quick buck. Riffing very, very loosely on “A Midsummer Nights’ Dream,” with Evan Rachel Wood’s fairies and Alan Cumming’s goblins tussling over a love potion, the film has an over-complex nonsense plot that should be familiar to anyone that saw “The Phantom Menace,” but without much of a personality to go around in design or theme. The voice cast appears to have been assembled at random (Alfred Molina! Maya Rudolph! Tony Cox!), the film’s gratingly scored by diabolicial, sub-“Glee” renditions of pop standards, and is littered with ‘humor’ haunted by the spectre of Jar Jar Binks —the kind of ‘joke’ that a 70-year-old man thinks children would find funny. Director Gary Rydstrom was going to be at the helm of the lost Pixar movie, “Newt” —on this evidence, we may have dodged a bullet.
“Taken 3” (original review)
Not to get too processy, but when we came to put together the longlist for this feature, we ended up writing “Taken 3” down three separate times before realizing that it was already there. It perfectly encapsulates both how awful and how entirely forgettable the film is: only six months after release, it already feels like it’s been filling up service station bargain bins since the mid-1980s. This nadir of a franchise that was shitty to begin with sees Liam Neeson’s ill-starred former special-ops type Bryan Mills (if you gave Jason Statham a script with a character named something as boring as Bryan Mills, he would probably eat it), this time at home in L.A, framed for his wife’s murder, pursued by detective Forest Whitaker (barely conscious), and once again out to rescue his annoying daughter (Maggie Grace), who should maybe just stop leaving the house at this point. Entirely tired and interchangeable with other entries in the series, lumbered with a ‘surprise’ bad guy in Dougray Scott, who might as well walk around in a t-shirt that says ‘bad guy’ from his entrance, and stuck with a toothless PG-13 rating (which pleasingly led to the lowest-grossing movie in the franchise), the only surprising thing about “Taken 3” is that a man named Olivier Megaton could be responsible for action sequences as awful as these.
“Ted 2” (original review)
In fairness, “Ted 2” is better than “A Million Ways To Die In The West.” It’s certainly better than Seth MacFarlane’s Oscars. But given that the “Family Guy” creator has given himself such a low bar to clear in his encounters with movies so far, none of the preceding are compliments. From the opening, a shoehorned-in musical number that once again indulges the filmmaker’s love of the classic era of the American Songbook and stops the movie literally as it’s starting, this is a MacFarlane joint (pun intended, and on about par to the laziness of the writing in the film) through and through. Jokes over-extended to fill the running time? Check. ‘Equal opportunity offensiveness’ aimed everywhere but at straight white men? Check. Callbacks and references that don’t function as jokes except to say ‘this is a callback and/or reference?’ Check. Maybe one in ten times a joke will land, and Mark Wahlberg remains incredibly game, making you wish that the film around him matched his willingness to embarrass himself. But this is exactly as regressive, scattershot and uninspired as the first film, and even more rage-inducingly follows the MRA/Gamergate tactic of using the language of civil rights and progressiveness (here, in a plot that has Ted fighting for his civil rights) to diminish the importance of those things. To put it in terms the movie would appreciate: fuck “Ted 2.”
“Unfinished Business” (original review)
After two episodes, it remains to be seen if “True Detective” will be the career reinvention that Vince Vaughn hopes it’ll be. Emphasis on hope, because after a comedy as dismal as “Unfinished Business,” he needs to change tack, double-quick. Directed by Ken Scott (whose previous team-up with Vaughn, “The Delivery Man,” looks like a masterpiece next to this), it sees Vaughn as a businessman (‘business’ is about as specific as the film gets) who with his misfit colleagues Tom Wilkinson and Dave Franco head to Germany to close a crucial deal against rival Sienna Miller. The film can’t decide whether it’s some kind of “Jerry Maguire”-ish dramedy (the sub-plots involving Vaughn’s kids back at home might be the least interesting sub-plots in the history of sub-plots) or a broad “Hangover”-style bro-com, and ultimately settles on being a hollow, hateful, uneven amalgam of both. If you think that the treatment of Miller is mean-spirited, it’s nothing next to the staggering misjudgements involving Franco’s on-the-spectrum character, or Nick Frost’s cameo (the actor’s arguably the best thing about the film, but still). And whatever Vaughn’s lizardy charms once were, they’ve long since dissipated in the comedy world. Honestly, there were more laughs in the actor’s endless “True Detective” monologue the other night that there are here.
“United Passions” (original review)
Even in light of the currently unfolding FIFA corruption scandal, it can be hard to explain to those who don’t follow sports about the huge self-importance the soccer organization has projected for years. But it might be easier to understand after a couple of hours with “United Passions.” Almost entirely financed by FIFA, the movie tells the stirring story of the roots of the organization’s executive branch. Without ever setting a foot on an actual pitch, “United Passions” is a corporate centered look at soccer that boldly humblebrags (and overstates) FIFA’s contributions to ending apartheid, promoting diversity, ensuring the popularity of the sport and bravely surviving bankruptcy several times over. While both bizarre and jaw-dropping, the film is never awful enough to be interestingly bad, laboring on tediously as Gerard Depardieu, Sam Neill, and Tim Roth cash their paychecks to star in what has to be one of the most expensive self-promotional video ever made. A self-congratulatory appraisal of FIFA’s triumph over managerial adversity, the film is ultimately Sepp Blatter’s love letter to himself, and something of a legal defense as well, painting him as a man who courageously saved the group from corruption but becomes unfairly tainted in the process. Wildly self-serving, inaccurate and dull, “United Passions” will hopefully go down in history as FIFA’s final act of hubris before the walls came crashing down.
“Woman In Gold” (original review)
No one really anticipates a film like “Woman In Gold,” do they? There are no blogs living off plot tidbits for “The Third Best Exotic Marigold Hotel,” no twitter storms when the trailer for “Lady In The Van” arrives. These films hit arthouses, and sometimes they’re good (“Philomena” being around the upper tier), sometimes they’re not, but they usually make a healthy amount of money. “Woman In Gold” did well (with over $30 million in the U.S. alone, it’s probably the biggest indie of the year so far), but presumably this is because this particular audience is so starved for content that they’ll see literally anything with a middlebrow patina of "prestige" or "class," because this film is an incredibly weak example of the genre. Based, inevitably, on a true story, it stars, inevitably, Helen Mirren as Maria Altmann, a Jewish immigrant to the U.S. who filed a suit against the Austrian government for the return of paintings belonging to her aunt, including the Klimt picture of the title, worth over $100 million. It’s well meaning, incredibly simplistic, and almost spectacularly bland —director Simon Curtis has made his previous picture “My Week With Marilyn” look like John Waters made it, with Ryan Reynolds’ beige attorney and his wife, Thankless Wife (Katie Holmes) being the most flavorless element of a flavorless, manipulative, cheap and disingenuous picture. “Orphan Black” star Tatiana Maslany makes a strong case for future cinematic stardom as the younger version of Mirren’s character, but there’s little else to like here.
Honorable Mentions: Aside from the twenty films above, we considered a selection of others, but ultimately the films either had their defenders on staff, or we couldn’t find enough people who’d seen them, or they simply weren’t deemed quite bad enough. In brief, there was John Travolta crime thriller “The Forger,” vanishing thriller remake “The Loft,” Sean Penn trying and failing to do a “Taken” with “The Gunman,” Cameron Crowe’s much-mocked, not-quite-as-bad-as-all-that “Aloha,” and Jack Black and James Marsden in “The D Train.”
Then there was Blake Lively‘s immortal romance “The Age Of Adaline,” the Soviet-accent-safari of “Child 44,” Neill Blomkamp’s “Chappie,” tiresome gross-out “The Human Centipede 3,” substandard comedy sequel “Hot Tub Time Machine 2,” Simon Pegg ‘thriller’ “Kill Me Three Times,” David O Russell’s disowned “Accidental Love,” and would-be Sharknado “Zombeavers.” Anything else you hated? Let us know in the comments.
— Oliver Lyttelton, Jessica Kiang, Kevin Jagernauth
