I have a bit of a thing about bad Nicolas Cage movies. If I had my time over I would go to Film School and write a dissertation on them (and not the dissertation on soap operas which I actually did write, complete with flow charts to explain the plots).
You know where you are with a bad Nicolas Cage film – in hell, probably, with a manic grin.
Our local DVD store recently closed down and we are still mourning its passing. Many a Saturday night would see me rifling through the shelves, happy in the knowledge that if I couldn’t get a new film, at least there is always a new, bad Nicolas Cage film to watch.
What is going on with his career? Who is advising this Oscar-winning actor, who clearly has talent and charisma, to appear in such monumental turkeys? Really, Season of the Witch, you thought that was a good idea? He’s been in some fantastic films, but also some right turds.
Speaking of which: I never thought that the craziness of Nicolas Cage would enter my home until I went to the bathroom yesterday and was confronted with this terror –
Here it is in close up:
See what I have to put up with? You don’t see the likes of that on home makeover shows.
Honestly, I am still in recovery from being texted by God.
What next, universe? Nicolas Cage cupcakes?
I swear the whole world has gone mad with the heat. Or does Nicolas Cage just bring out the madness in the world?