Interesting experiences at work: September 2, 2017

So this really weird situation happened tonight.

So, I get off of work, go out to my car, get in, start it up, and I’m about to back out and go home when I see this really shifty-looking shirtless guy walking through the parking lot in my general direction. Obviously I shouldn’t have made eye contact, but I do. And right after I do so, he nods at me, as if I’ve just acquiesced to some request he’s made of me. Which is really weird. And so he starts walking toward me. Instinctively, I lock the doors.

So this guy walks up to the front passenger side door of my car and tugs on the handle as if he was expecting to be let in. Thank heaven I had the doors locked. I don’t know if he’s just a panhandler that needs a ride, or if he wants to steal my car.

I roll down my window a tad, just enough so that I can hear what he has to say, but not enough so that he can stick his hand in and open the door that way. This guy points to the little thingy on the door next to the window that goes up or down when you lock or unlock your car and says, “You got this,” as if he wasn’t expecting that to be there. As if he was expecting to be let in the car for some reason. I ask if there’s anything he needs, and he asks for five bucks. I don’t have any cash. He’s obviously disappointed, and he starts walking off in another direction.

The whole situation was weirding me out. I didn’t want to take the risk of letting this guy in my car in case he wants to steal it, but I didn’t know whether that was actually the case. He could just have been some poor panhandler trying to scrape together some cash. Weirded out by the situation, I get out of there and drive home.

It was a very strange situation. I have no idea what to make of it.

So yeah. That happened.

Advertisements

Interesting experiences at work: August 31, 2017

I was working at Wal-Mart today when a couple of thirtysomething ladies were leading along a small group of mentally ill or mentally disabled guys who ran the age spectrum. What happened today concerns only two of these gentlemen.

The first was this teenager who couldn’t speak very well and needed a motorized wheelchair to get around. He started speaking to me, but all I could make out was him saying “Hi” to me and some other jibberish that I couldn’t make out. I couldn’t discern what he was saying, and I was really feeling really terrible for that. Thankfully, one of the ladies came over to me and told me what he was trying to say to me. He asked me how I was. I was fine. He asked me what my name was. My name is Spencer. He introduced himself to me. His name was Hunter. He then said “See you later”, and went off to do the rest of his shopping with that lady. All the while, I was feeling really terrible for him because he had this condition, but I felt really great that I was able to brighten his day a little bit.

The second individual was an older gentleman. He asked me something I couldn’t make out, but thankfully one of the other ladies was by his side. She told me he was asking for some of the larger bags of caesar salad. I gladly went and got some of them. I brought them to him and gave them to him. He took them, and then gave me this really big, ear-to-ear, really goofy grin, thanks me, and gives me a high five.

I really love moments like that. It always feels really amazing to brighten these men’s days. I really need more moments like that in my life. It’s the little acts of kindness in life that really make all the difference, and it feels amazing to do them. And though I feel terrible for these men that have these conditions, I felt really happy that I was able to bring them even just a little bit of happiness in what must be really hard lives. In a way, I can really relate to these guys, because I have a mental illness too. I’m autistic. High-functioning autistic, but autistic nonetheless. I really do truly appreciate being able to make these guys happy.

Credit where it’s due: thanks, God, for putting these two men in my way today. I really appreciate that.

Interesting experiences at work: August 25, 2017

So, the McDonald’s inside the Wal-Mart where I work had a big grand reopening on the 25th because they had undergone some renovations earlier that month. Admittedly, I was hoping they were removing the McD’s and replacing it with something at least half decent.

They not only had balloons and streamers adorning this place (kind of fancy for this little McD’s inside of a Wal-Mart), but they also gave the first 25 people in line free drinks for a year. Duuuude, this is totally radical! I totally saved, like, 25 bucks last year because McDonald’s gave me free drinks for a year, man!

But this McD’s also had a guy dressed up as Ronald McDonald (three-foot shoes and all) come in, make balloon animals for kids, and talk about stuff. I don’t know exactly everything he was doing; I was in the middle of working at the time.

The whole gig lasted about two hours. Once 1 PM came around, Ronny Donny Boy leaves. And he leaves in perhaps the shiftiest vehicle I can imagine for a clown with such negative connotation: a McDonald’s-brand windowless van with ice cream painted on the side. Because that’s the perfect van for a pedo rapist clown to drive. Because, you know, Ronald McDonald “dispenses ice cream” into little kids’ bu – I mean, cones. Don’t look at me funny.

Screw it. Because, you know, little Jimmy, should he ever enter a McD’s van, a McD’s windowless van with ice cream painted on the side, I’d think he’d probably go in there intending on meeting Ronald McDonald, the Hamburglar, the Grimace, Sally McSourpuss, and all the other famous McD’s characters. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be expecting to leave this van with his butthole resembling a baby yawning.

I’m Chris Hansen with Dateline NBC.

A Quick Look: Annabelle: Creation (1.5/5)

So I just got home from seeing Annabelle: Creation, and while it was certainly a little better than Lights Out and the first Annabelle movie, I still have yet to see David Sandberg make a good movie. Because Creation has his spooge all over it.

Especially when it comes to the story. While not as borderline nonexistent as Lights Out, it is as predictable and then some. Seriously, there is not a single element to this plot that I could not predict. This movie also seems to not know the difference between a plot and a goal. This movie’s goal is to tell the Annabelle doll’s origin story and connect it seamlessly to the first Annabelle movie. And by God, it’s going to do that; damn the consequences. I also need to mention that this is one of innumerable horror movies whose plots cannot proceed, let alone function, unless one or more characters make stupid decisions and things screw up. Like poor Annabelle getting hit by a freaking car that she clearly could see coming when she runs out into the road to grab her dad’s car’s tire nut. Like poor Janice going into Annabelle’s room despite being told

BRICK TAMLAND (Anchorman): NO, GOD! NO, GOD, PLEASE, NO. NO! NOOOOOO!

She not only goes into Annabelle’s room despite being told not to and basically instigates the whole demon infestation thing, but of course gets the living hell scared out of her by some spoopy supernatural fluff. And then she somehow gets the idea to go back in. Either the second or third time she goes in (my memory is a little foggy), Linda even joins her, though at least Linda has the smarts to get out of there. I also love that whenever Janice is being tormented by the evil entity (whose demonic form is played by dear Joseph Bishara (FANGASM)), she’s screaming her head off, but no one comes to help her until after the demon is done tormenting her. Even when poor little Janice gets straight-up possessed by the evil entity, nobody comes until after the demon finishes raping Janice (not really, but it may as well have, considering people’s reaction time, let alone response time). I also love how Janice inexplicably loses her polio after getting possessed. I also love that the demon has opportunity after opportunity to possess Janice but doesn’t take advantage of any of them until the beginning of the third act, instead resorting to trolling her and the audience for well over an hour.

I love a particular scene in which Janice goes into Annabelle’s room. She sees the ghost of Annabelle looking out of a window, and asks her why she is here and what she wants. Annabelle turns around, revealing a laugh-inducing demonic face, and growls, “YOUR SOUL!” How original! Janice flees the room and gets onto the electric stair chair and tries to flee downstairs, conveniently forgetting for twenty seconds that the damn jalopy won’t work unless the seatbelt is fastened. She gets the chair started and it moves down the stairs at a conveniently slow pace. It stops halfway, and Janice starts rapidly flicking the switch to get it going again. But because she sucks so bad, she sends the chair moving back up the stairs. I was having a blast. And then when the chair reaches the top, we get a ten second pause before something unseen yanks her up into the dark. She falls to the floor soon after. This scene, much to the ire of everyone else in the theater, made me laugh my head off. Yes; for once, I was That Guy.

Also, at the climax, possessed Janice is walking around the house, trying to kill everyone. And throughout the entire scene, I was holding back laughter as hard as I could, thinking, Oh my gosh. “Someone be scared of me!”

I also love how the story in general feels just as small-scale and depthless as Lights Out, despite actually having a serviceable running time, explaining why the movie’s pacing is so sluggish. It could have easily been cut to eighty minutes without compromising the movie’s integrity. That also explains how thinly created the characters are. While not nearly as bland and forgettable as the characters in Lights Out, the characters in Annabelle: Creation are still pretty badly constructed. Each of the characters in this movie have one character trait that will determine how they will act throughout the rest of the movie. Seriously. Each of the orphan girls have one character trait (and two of them lack even that). Sister Charlotte has one character trait. The two Mullinses have one character trait each. And Annabelle / the demon doesn’t even have a character trait. It only has a purpose, and it’s purely focused on trolling the orphans and the audience until it can fulfill its purpose.

The only two characters that have any semblance of depth at all are Janice and Linda. These two characters, despite their dumb decisions, are the best part of the movie, as well as the only two actors in this movie with a shred of talent. I’m sure the other actors have talent, but they are either barely in the movie (like poor Miranda Otto), or suffer under David Sandberg’s poor direction. Talitha Bateman as Janice and Lulu Wilson as Linda are legitimately good. Well, Lulu is better, but Talitha is pretty good too. They, and the conversations they share, are easily the best part of this movie. I love the sisterly bond they share. I love how they so easily work off each other to create two characters I actually came close to caring about. I would have cared about them had they not made stupid decisions. Unfortunately, David Sandberg’s crummy direction gets to them too in the third act. Janice gets possessed by the demon – in the same way Bathsheba possessed Carolyn in The Conjuring – and tries to kill everybody. Because that’s totally what possessed people do. And the most obvious problem with this scene was this: possessed Talitha Bateman in Annabelle: Creation is nowhere near as creepy as possessed Lulu Wilson in Ouija: Origin of Evil. Seriously, the scene in which Lulu Wilson as Doris Zander explains what it’s like to be strangled to death is one of the creepiest scenes I can think of in recent years. Also, Lulu Wilson was so effective in Ouija 2 because she had the amazing Mike Flanagan in the director’s chair. But Talitha Bateman, while good, cannot measure up to Lulu Wilson. Couldn’t the two have switched roles?

Oh, and if you haven’t seen the first Annabelle movie, the ending to Creation will be ungodly confusing. It’s a good thing I watched the first one the night before, or else I would have fallen prey to this too.

Oh, and I should probably mention that David Sandberg cannot go one movie without giving his wife Lotta Losten a cameo. That’s not really good or bad, it’s just something I noticed. Also, Alicia Vela-Bailey, the chick who played Diana in Lights Out, has a cameo as a demonified version of Mrs. Mullins.

And now we come to the horror aspects. Knowing David Sandberg’s approach to spoopy sequences like the back of my hand (crap, didn’t notice that mosquito bite there – SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH), I predicted that almost every single spoopy sequence would feature decent cinematography, but also one or more flimsy jumpscares. Those that didn’t end in said jumpscare(s) would still feature at least one. And I was absolutely right. Almost every single spoopy sequence followed the same formula. Maybe the steps to the formula were done in a different order each time, but it was still the same damn formula. And while Annabelle: Creation wasn’t quite at the same level of David Sandberg’s Jumpscare Porn as Lights Out, the Jumpscare Porn was still undeniably there to quite an extent. Though I will be the first to admit that some of these jumpscares were actually pretty effective, the fact that 95% of the spoopy sequences featured one or more jumpscares made the movie feel just like Lights Out: predictable and monotonous, and therefore boring. Worse, every last jumpscare felt entirely unnecessary and took away from whatever tension any of the spoopy sequences might have built. Every single time I got to a spoopy sequence, I thought to myself, Oh, oh, here comes a spoopy sequence. It’s getting super quiet. And since David Sandberg is at the helm, I know that there’s gonna be one or more jumpscares. So I’m just sitting there waiting for the jumpscares. That’s not fear of an evil entity. That’s anticipation of a jumpscare that may or may not happen. And that’s not scary. Getting super quiet to anticipate people for jumpscares that may or may not happen is not scary, especially if this is the case every single time a spoopy sequence rears its ugly head. It’s predictable and monotonous, and therefore boring. And this is something that David Sandberg does not understand. AND I CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME UNDERSTAND WHY SO MANY HORROR FANS ARE PRAISING HIM FOR BEING LIKE EVERY STUDIO-PRODUCED HORROR MOVIE EVER WHILE PANNING BRILLIANT MASTERPIECES LIKE THE VVITCH AND IT COMES AT NIGHT. IT IS BEYOND INFURIATING. I wouldn’t be getting so pissy about this if I wasn’t aware of David Sandberg’s directing style and his ways of trying to scare the audience. I know exactly what he’s going to do in every scary sequence he ever creates. It’s not as if I expect anything good from David Sandberg; after all, he started his career making short horror films on YouTube. Because that’s totally a sign of talent. Oh, and I should mention this: there is one very prominent scary sequence that doesn’t actually feature a massive jumpscare. It’s as if David Sandberg was attempting to throw off Lights Out‘s detractors by having one single solitary instance in which he was being unpredictable. How low. How cheap.

And when you compare it to The ConjuringAnnabelle: Creation looks even worse. Though the scary sequences in The Conjuring did indeed involve jumpscares, the jumpscares in The Conjuring duology were necessary, expertly placed, and further accentuated sequences that were already freaking scary to begin with. And the scary sequences were executed in a variety of interesting and unique ways. No scary sequence was ever going to be the same as another. The Conjuring, while also being a studio-produced horror movie and being legitimately scary in its own right, was not all about the scary sequences. It was about its characters, how they interact with each other, and how they handle a series of events that spiral increasingly out of control. It featured a cast of interesting, unique, developed, lovable characters that you legitimately cared about and sympathized with.  That’s what made the movie as scary as it was: the scary sequences involved characters that you actually cared for and sympathized with and did not want to see die. The movies themselves were made to be good movies first, and scary movies second. And the subject matter that The Conjuring and The Conjuring 2 were about was handled with care and love, and required actual thought, effort, and heart to bring to the screen. They were lovingly crafted, and while still covered in studio bullcrap, they respected the real-life events that they based themselves off of and they respected their audience. That’s what made The Conjuring and its sequel legitimately great movies. Oh, and they both had the fantastic James Wan in the director’s chair.

And the worst thing about Annabelle: Creation is that as an installment in the The Conjuring franchise, it, like the first Annabelle movie, is entirely pointless. The Annabelle doll was scary as hell in The Conjuring. It was so much scarier when we had no idea of its backstory. It was scary enough on its own, but it was even scarier when we could only speculate where exactly it came from and how it became a conduit for a demonic entity. That’s what makes Alien: Covenant so disappointing as well: we didn’t need to know where the Xenomorphs came from, or who they were created by. They were scary as hell on their own, and the idea that we could only imagine where they came from made them even more scary. Knowing what stories not to elaborate on is just as important as knowing what stories to elaborate on. Annabelle the doll, much like the Xenomorphs, has been effectively neutered. Well, I guess the correct term would be spayed.

My mistake – this is the worst thing about Annabelle: Creation. There’s this really stupid and pointless sequence in which Sister Charlotte shows Mr. Mullins a picture of her and three other nuns in Romania. When Mr. Mullins tilts the picture the right way, you can also see Valak the Demon Nun from The Conjuring 2 in a doorway next to the four nuns. Mr. Mullins even questions Sister Charlotte about the other nun, and Sister Charlotte says she doesn’t know. This scene has no bearing on the plot, and is never mentioned again. I presume this is just a really terrible ad for the next Conjuring spin-off: The Nun. Yes, Annabelle: Creation literally is stooping to selling ad space for future movies in the Conjuring franchise. That is effing pathetic.

As much as I’m hammering this movie, it’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be. I still legitimately like the vibe between Janice and Linda, and I really like the setting, as well as the atmosphere to a certain extent. The sound design is actually pretty good. And I am so happy that David Sandberg didn’t write the script. Also, I even have to cut Annabelle: Creation a little slack. After all, last year, the Ouija franchise managed to pull off a complete 180 and make what should have been an even worse installment in an already dead franchise into one of the best horror films of 2016. So they tried to do the same with Annabelle and right the biggest wrong in the Conjuring franchise. No pressure. But to do that, you really needed a better director than David Sandberg. Getting Mike Flanagan to succeed Stiles White was a fantastic move, but they needed to get someone far better than David Sandberg to replace John Leonetti. Maybe they should have gotten Mike Flanagan again.

It’s a failed attempt to fix a big mistake, and they could have actually fixed the mistake with a much better director and a much better writer. And I’m giving Annabelle: Creation a 1.5 out of 5.

“Gender” in Its Modern Definition has a Dark History.

The idea that gender is little more than a social construct and that male and female are fundamentally interchangeable was pioneered in 1955 by a sexologist named Dr. John Money. Dr. Money coined the modern usage of the term “gender”, referring to it as not your biological sex, but the sex you identify with as a result of social and cultural constructs, pressures, and expectations. To show you where such an idea gets you, allow me to enlighten you with the story of a two young boys.

On August 22, 1965, two twin boys by the names of Bruce and Brian Reimer were born to Janet and Ronald Reimer in Winnipeg, Manitoba. After they were both diagnosed with phimosis (when the foreskin cannot be pulled all the way past the head of the penis), when they were seven months old, the two were to be circumcised. Unfortunately, the operation was performed using a highly unconventional method of cauterization, and Bruce’s penis was burned beyond surgical repair. Brian was not operated on, and his phimosis eventually fixed itself without surgery.

Bruce’s parents, knowing that his future happiness and sexual function were in serious jeopardy, took him to Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland in 1967 to see a sexologist by the name of Dr. John Money. He was a pioneer of sorts in sexual development and gender identity. He believed that a person’s gender was not necessarily his/her biological sex, but the sex they identified as a result of social learning and cultural pressure. He believed that if a boy was raised as a girl and socialized enough to be a girl, then that boy could fundamentally be a girl, as Money believed that there were no innate differences between male and female, despite the entire field of human biology proving him wrong. Money and the few physicians he could get to take his theories seriously believed that though a penis could not be replaced, an artificial vagina could be surgically constructed.

Dr. Money told Bruce’s parents that Bruce would be more likely to achieve sexual maturation as a girl than as a boy, and suggested that Bruce undergo sex reassignment surgery and regular hormone treatment. For Money, this would be the perfect opportunity for him to test his theories, as this was a case in which two identical twin boys were involved with one being raised as a girl. Brian would make for the ideal control because the brothers shared the same genes, family environment, and intrauterine (inside mother’s uterus) environment. Bruce would make for a perfect test subject, as he had no abnormality of prenatal or postnatal differentiation. The parents consented, and Bruce underwent a bilateral orchidectomy. His testes and what remained of his penis were removed and a very basic vulva was constructed. He would urinate out of a hole in his abdomen. In his preteen years, he would undergo estrogen injections to induce breast development. Bruce was reassigned as female and renamed Brenda.

Over the next decade, Dr. Money would annually see the Reimers in Baltimore to consult them, assess the overall outcome, and psychologically support them. But what these visits truly entailed was something I still can hardly believe. Under the guise of believing that “childhood sexual rehearsal play” was imperative to the development of a “healthy adult gender identity”, Dr. Money would have the twins imitate sex acts involving “thrusting movements” with “Brenda” performing the role of Bottom. “Brenda” would get “down on all fours” with Brian coming “up behind his butt” with “his crotch against” his “buttocks”. Another time, “Brenda” would have his “legs spread” with Brian on top. Dr. Money would also force “Brenda” and Brian to remove their clothing and engage in “genital inspections”. On at least one occasion, Dr. Money took photos of the two performing these activities.

Though Dr. Money touted this experiment as successful, “Brenda” never truly ended up identifying as a girl, and described his visits with Dr. Money as traumatic. Brian even ended up becoming schizophrenic. Not only were these sessions with Money highly unpleasant for both “Brenda” and Brian, but Money was either ignoring or concealing evidence that “Brenda’s” gender reassignment was not going well. Their parents even routinely lied to Money and his lab staff that the gender reassignment was going splendidly. After Money started pressuring the family to bring “Brenda” in for surgery in which a supposedly fully functional vagina would be constructed, the family discontinued the visits.

Contrary to Dr. Money’s reports, “Brenda” never did identify as a girl. He was the target of severe ostracization and bullying by his peers, and neither the frilly dresses nor female hormones ever made him feel female. By the time he was 13, “Brenda” was going through severe depression to the point of being suicidal, saying that he would kill himself if his parents ever took him to see Dr. Money again. Following advice from his endocrinologist and psychiatrist, “Brenda’s” parents told him about his gender reassignment in 1980, and “Brenda” accepted his male sexuality when he was 14, renaming himself David.

By 1987, David had undergone nearly enough treatment to reverse his reassignment, including regular testosterone injections, a double mastectomy (removing whatever breast material he had), and two phalioplasty (penis reconstruction) operations. On September 22, 1990, he married Jane Fontaine and adopted her three children.

In 1997, he told his story to Milton Diamond, an academic sexologist who convinced David to tell his story in an attempt to dissuade other physicians from treating other infants similarly to how Dr. Money treated him. David went public with his story, and journalist John Colapinto published a Rolling Stone article and eventually a full-length book about David’s story, titled As Nature Made Him: The Boy Who Was Raised as a Girl.

Dr. Money responded to this exposé in the way that you would expect: he blamed the media response on “right-wing media bias” and “the antifeminist movement”, claiming that his detractors believed “masculinity and femininity are built into the genes so women should get back to the mattress and the kitchen”.

I know that this seems like it’s going to end happily. I wish it did. I wish I could be shaking David Reimer’s hand right now. But David Reimer never truly recovered from Dr. Money’s experiments. After years of a difficult relationship with his parents, debilitating depression, unemployment, financial instability, marital troubles, and even Brian’s suicide in 2002, David, at the age of 38, killed himself with a shotgun on May 4, 2004. David and Brian’s parents both stated that Dr. Money’s methodology is what killed their sons.

Dr. Money eventually died on July 7, 2006 from Parkinson’s disease.

Dr. Money is still seen as an innovative pioneer of the idea of sexual fluidity and “gender” being a social construct. He published over 2000 articles, books, chapters, and reviews, nearly all of which were positively received and are still referred to as scientific gospel. He received over 65 worldwide honors, awards, and honorary degrees. He is still lauded as a progenitor of the gender fluidity movement.

And despite leagues of blind believers in this idea, to this day, there is not, has never been, and never will be even the slightest shred of evidence for the existence of “gender” (as Dr. Money defined it) in humans, or the entire animal kingdom for that matter.

So remember, kids: when you use the term “gender”, you’re using the speculative-at-best terminology of an insane scientist who committed human experimentation, psychologically, emotionally, and sexually tortured a pair of twin boys, drove them both to suicide, and not only got away with it, but is still lauded as one of the pioneers of the ideas of 1) sexual identity being only a state of mind and not a biological constant and 2) sex reassignment, to this day.

There’s a special place in Hell for people like him.

As for David and Brian Reimer, may they rest in peace.

A Quick Look: Phoenix Forgotten (1/5)

So I just got home from seeing the Ridley-Scott-produced and oddly titled Phoenix Forgotten, and while it’s not as boring as The Blair Witch Project (the film Phoenix Forgotten copied), it still sucked pretty badly. For example, it hit damn near every note that TBWP did. Instead of three college students getting lost in a Maryland forest while filming a documentary about a local supernatural legend in the late 90s, it’s three high school students getting lost in the Arizona desert while filming a documentary while looking for aliens also in the late 90s. And somehow Josh, Ashley, and Mark are even worse at filming a documentary than Heather, Mike, and Josh. Could PF not even come up with less obvious names? Instead of an invisible ghost shaking the tent, there’s the moans of aliens and the sounds of a flying spaceship. And some random bullhonky about Ezekiel’s Ring is inserted randomly into the movie to make it look deeper than it actually is. At least the trio shot on Hi-8 (or was it 35mm?). But apart from the movie’s threat being much more present and involved in the movie, everything that made TBWP what it is is present in PF. The acting is subpar. The direction is third-rate. The script causes the characters to make unrealistic decisions. The camerawork was vomit-inducing. The runtime was frustratingly short. And, most importantly, I was not scared or invested in the characters or story in the slightest. The only intense sequences in the movie were only intense because the surround sound in the theater was deafeningly loud. Hey, at least there’s no jumpscares. At least the characters in PF weren’t as unlikeable or gratingly profane. If you’re scared of bright lights, raining stones, nosebleeds, hair falling out, and a mixture of flashing lights, deafening noises, blisteringly fast wind, and an alien ship, you won’t sleep a wink tonight. Everyone else will have forgotten this within a few hours of seeing it. It’s just another TBWP copycat that got to the party eighteen years too late, and I’m giving Phoenix Forgotten a…

Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention this: what I described takes up only the last thirty minutes of the film. Yeah. The trailers are lying to you: the movie’s not actually centered on the three teenagers. Rather than treat us to an ungodly boring “slow-burn thriller”, we spend most of the movie in the present day. Josh’s younger sister Sophie is making a documentary about her brother’s disappearance. How original. She goes to her hometown and talks to her parents and Ashley’s parents, but not to Mark’s parents. She talks to some other townsfolk and decides to give up on her quest to learn her brother’s fate. Intersperse this with footage of Josh meeting Ashley, implication of a building friendship, and deciding to take their friend Mark with them to go explore the desert outside of Phoenix. This takes fifty minutes. At least this is actually filmed like a student documentary. And by that, I mean that the movie switches back and forth between the present and the 90s seemingly at random. It switches back and forth constantly in the first act, stays almost entirely focused on Sophie for the second, and completely abandons her in the third. It’s jarring and boring, but not nearly as boring as TBWP. But it’s not engaging or compelling. But then, another camera is inexplicably mailed to Josh’s school with a tape inside it in conveniently good condition after having sat out in the 100+ degree desert heat for who knows how long. On the tape is the last thirty minutes of the movie. Sophie is shoved to the side to make way for the painfully mediocre and generic climax of the movie. Which is a pity, as Sophie was the only character in the movie I could come even the slightest bit close to sympathizing with. Seriously. This entire movie has been building itself up as Sophie’s story. We begin the movie at her sixth birthday party when we see the Phoenix Lights. We’re introduced to the three missing characters because she’s the one investigating. We see every shallow and bland twist and turn of this mystery through her eyes, and in the third act, she’s tossed to the side. She is never seen again in the movie. Ever. What the hell?

But what’s the point? Why was Phoenix Forgotten made? What purpose does it serve other than to put another blemish on Ridley Scott’s career? What does this movie amount to, other than a particularly weak episode of The X-Files? It’s not as if the Phoenix Lights were a particularly scary or memorable occurrence or make for dramatic material. Phoenix Forgotten has no soul, no shelf life, no purpose, and will ironically be forgotten as soon as it leaves theaters, and I’m giving it a 1 out of 5.