I’ve complained about this before, but the whole “throwing away empty guns like Bic lighters” thing: empty your clip or cylinder, hear a couple of clicks on an empty chamber, glance at it for a moment in annoyance, and then toss it aside.
Guns aren’t free, you know: if you hung onto it, you might pick up some more ammo for it later - or, God forbid, buy some.
Oh yeah, and if you must pack about four different weapons, don’t mix your calibres: if you’re carrying a 9mm, a .45, a .38 and a .50 calibre machine gun to complete the ensemble, there’s a just a chance that you’re going to confuse which bullets go where right at a crucial moment.
I agree mostly but not completely. I can imagine carrying a snub-nosed revolver for its superior reliability along with, say, a Glock 9 for greater firepower. But in that case the revolver’s going to be the last-ditch weapon, so I’m going to have multiple clips of ammo for the clock, and just one speedloader for the revolver.
On the subject of guns. Someone already cited where the evil guy can’t hit a barn from inside it, while the hero can pick off someone 40 miles away on horseback at full gallop with a derringer. Annoying enough already. Just as annoying, where do they buy all these big hand cannons that have NO RECOIL? Take westerns for instance. I think a 45 would have a bit of a kick to it. It may not wrench your arm out of its socket, like the Dirty Harry movies suggest, but there is a little bit of a kick or barrel flip, or at least a gentle nudge or something.
Even assuming you are right that it would have looked absurd, (and I think a good filmaker could have made it look OK) that doesn’t make using an abused tired bullshit cliche necessary or acceptable.
Yes but now you can’t have a car chase without launching cars off the back of the car carrier truck (Matrix: Reloaded, Bad Boys 2).
Romantic comedies where a large child is dropped off on some free spirited single guys doorstep and he must now learn adult responsibility.
Jumping across subway platforms in front of an oncomming train. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I cant do a 12’ running long jump.
Every upper-middle class or wealthy teenager is a good-looking obnoxious jerk with the morality of a sociopath (Dude!! We HAVE to kill that guy who saw me egg the deans car or I’ll lose my scholarship to Dartmouth!")
Soldiers stepping on mine’s or booby traps that arm when you step on them and explode when you release. AFAIK, no mine should need to operate like that in real life.
Never underestimate the restorative powers of the Taunt Of Miraculous Recuperation, which usually occurs about two-thirds of the way into the fight, when the hero has been battered into bloodied exhaustion: “You lose, Mr Power. Soon you will bear witness to the triumphant culmination of my plan. Soon my army of Robot Ninjas will be complete, and then nothing can stop them. And after that, perhaps it will be time to pay a visit on your lovely daughter…”
“Nyaargghhuugghh!” Max Power, revitalised by the thought of his daughter in the clutches of this monster, drags himself to his feet, gaining strength by the moment as the light of battle rekindles in his eyes. He has not yet begun to fight!And from then it’s strictly one-way traffic, as Baron Greenback gets his lumps. Thwack! Take that, perfidy! Thump! How do you like them apples, turpitude? Crunch! It’s payback time, malfeasance!
The fight will then culminate with the evil Baron Greenback prostrate and sanguinary, as Max foolishly turns his back on his supposedly beaten foe. But what’s this - the Baron’s wizened claw scrabbles for the envenomed knife hidden in his artificial arm - Max whirls just as Greenback is poised to hurl the poisoned blade, and blows him away with the great fuck-off gun that had been knocked out of his reach early in the fight. The blade clatters harmlessly to the floor.
Baron Greenback, flung back by the shot, gazes astonished for a moment at the large hole in his chest, and then topples slowly backwards through the window that overlooks his factory floor, and plunges screaming into his own reactor chamber. Boom! The subsequent explosion starts a chain reaction which will destroy the Robot Ninja production facility, and all Max Power has to do now is outrace the fireball down a tunnel and leap out onto the snowy mountainside, seonds before the entire factory is engulfed in flames.
So many to choose from; the car flying through the air during car chase, lands with its front nearly sheared off, and continues driving as though nothing happened; EVERYTHING exploding on contact during car chase scenes; car chase scenes themselves (does Hollywood not know how boring these are now? And same goes for interminable fight scenes. Yawn.)
As for the romantic stuff, how many people have been doing something physical with a member of the opposite sex (playing pool, football, pyramid, whatever), and you end up in each other’s arms, sharing meaningful looks?
Mines simple. Perhaps not quite enough to be called a cliche.
I cannot stand the kids cast in movies. While most of the shit kids do in movies is indeed lame, it becomes all the lamer when you look at thehaircuts on the kids.
Where does it state that every boy between the ages of 2 and 8 must have that ridiculous bowl haircut? No parent that I’ve ever know kept a kids hair like that IRL, yet all movie kids wear their hair like Joey Lawrence circa 1988.
by merely loosening her hair from a pony tail
or
taking off his/her glasses
or
unbuttoning his top button and ditching the cardigan for a leather jacket
my favorite of these is in (IIRC) That Touch Of Mink - After Cary Grant runs off to save Doris Day from John Astin, Gig Young turns to his bespeckled, ponytailed secretary and asks her to let down her hair and take off her glasses - only to reveal a squinting woman having a bad hair day; Young says “Gee, I guess not” (or something to that effect)