Paul Blart: Mall Cop, the Kevin James vehicle (a Segway, specifically) you bring up frequently as shorthand for unwatchable movies, is getting a sequel. Why? Because America demanded it. Seriously.

Liar and professional bisexual Tila Tequila isn't that much worse than her co-stars (including Hulk Hogan's ex-con son Nick, and The Wire's Tray Chaney) in the direct-to-video shitfest Masterminds, but that's like saying that a lobotomy isn't that much worse than losing an eyeball. It all sucks.

Great bad movies are fueled by their ridiculous details. Miami Connection's are stellar to the point of bonkers. This is not just a great bad movie — it's a phenomenal one. The 1987 pulp movie played only in Orlando and then after being avoided, was forgotten. But now it's being revived by Drafthouse, showing in theaters all over the country including New York's Landmark Sunshine tonight. For sheer singularity, it merits reconsideration.

Guy Ritchie is okay when it comes to fast-paced gangster movies; but his new genre of "five-minute-long perfume commercials in which (SPOILER) Jude Law and the model lady just wanna stand almost-nekkid by the Eiffel Tower" leaves us strangely unaroused.