I've waited a long time to unleash this post upon the world. But I think it's time. Call it a feeling in the gut, one that's by turns nerve-wracking and nausea-inducing. That's why I waited. But the time is upon us. I'm working on a screenplay and Showgirls is an inspiration—of what not to do. Ever.
Perhaps you've seen Showgirls and thought to yourself, GOOD GOD, THIS IS A ONE-HUNDRED-PERCENT BAD MOVIE. It is. But having worked on films in all facets of production, I know something you might not. It's a lot of work to make a feature-length film. But you might not know how much work it takes to make a movie this bad. It doesn't just happen, like a climate-change-induced hurricane disaster.
Every facet of the film must be wrong, or off. The combination of drugs and alcohol-fueled "creativity" must be just so. It takes experimentation to get that correct—like all chemical outcomes. The script must be coherent enough so that future generations recognize what's supposed to be happening, even if none of it makes sense. The dialogue must be ridiculous but never dull. The stars must be mis-directed and suitably fame-hungry for maximum scenery chewing. The set design must be eye-popping but somewhat thrown together, as if by a high-school-musical stage crew, coming down from cheap crank. The editing must be pedestrian, never calling attention to itself, like a forgotten episode of Starsky and Hutch. Most importantly, the director must have complete conviction in his vision, no matter how inane.
Showgirls has all that and more: Vulgarity on parade! Bad vibes! Sexuality as grotesque spectacle! What's not to like? Thanks to all the gif-makers out there in Internet-land.
Let's do this!
Kyle MacLachlan's butt!
Realizing the dream!
And finally, a learning experience.