I spent my lunch break curled up on the couch, relieved to have my hummus all to myself and switching between a broadcast of the film The Other Sister and MTV’s mindnumbing trash My Super Sweet Sixteen. While both share a theme of mild retardation, The Other Sister at least attempts to present a heartwarming message of how even functionally retarded people can love.

Naturally, there’s nothing funny about retardation or autism or whatever it is that Juliette Lewis and Giovanni Ribisi are trying to portray but there is something very funny about people pretending to be retarded or autistic or whatever and passing it off as a serious performance piece. There’s a scene in The Other Sister in which Lewis and Ribisi compete in a ludicrous, unintelligible shrieking match that’s supposed to remind the audience that they shouldn’t laugh at retarded people. Instead, the scene is so bizarre in its execution that it’s actually pretty funny: Lewis forces out her sobs so hard that she practically chokes and Ribisi is trying so hard to be retarded he simply splays out his fingers and whines. Serious considerations like sex, alcohol abuse and mental retardation are treated in such an unrealistic manner that it’s hard to believe the film was greenlighted at all.

I can’t explain with reason why I stop to watch My Super Sweet Sixteen whenever it airs on the soulless, gluttonous, life-sucking machine that is MTV, but I do. Every single episode is like seeing a horrific car accident that I have to stare at in disgust and amazement wondering how something can go so horribly wrong. One can argue that the show is simply scripted or strategically edited, perhaps MTV goes to great lengths to find wealthy families and their obnoxious children. Regardless, this glorification of enfant terrible has developed into a tiresome trend.

Are we raising a new generation of brats? Does a 7-year old really need a PSP, a cell phone and a flatscreen TV in the SUV? Are we so uninterested in talking and dealing with our children that we’ve decided to distract them with technological goodies? Why isn’t it ok to just say no anymore?

For some astronomically stupid reason, I convinced my boyfriend that we watch Pirates of the Caribbean instead of Ocean’s 13 because the former would prove to be a more exciting movie-watching experience than staring at 3 hot guys for 2 hours (WRONG).

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End was a major disappointment when it came to the simple act of story telling. Plot twists dead-ended into exotic locations making it impossible to keep track of what curse, who it affected and why they were going where.

Characters either lost their charm or became unreliable in action and dialogue. Davy Jones, a formidable haunted villain, was reduced to a disappointing footnote by the effeminate Lord Beckett who inexplicably lost his marbles in one of the most captivating scenes of the film. Will Turner’s and Elizabeth Swan’s romance seemed doomed from the second film which placed so much emphasis on Jack Sparrow’s chemistry with Swan that it didn’t really matter if Turner or Swan ever married. In Dead Man’s Chest, Swan seemed to embrace the role of pirate-tess and it suited her perfectly.

In fact, the most infuriating aspect of the film was Swan’s character literally being ejected from the ship to her destination as Turner’s wife; her potential stunted by having to complete a silly romance that never should have been. It felt like Swan was in her true element when she was wearing pants, swash buckling with the enemy, shouting orders to the crew while perched on the hand rails of the ship or coyly flirting with her multiple admirers (Norrington, Turner and everyone else on the ship). Let’s face it, Swan is supposed to be a pirate and belongs on a ship of her own rather than waiting for Turner, like Odysseus’ Penelope, for ten long, boring years.

Most audiences and critics complained about the overuse of character gimmicks, like Sparrow’s hallucinations or Keith Richards’ appearance as Captain Teague, but it was lost character potential that made At World’s End a sub par adventure film.

While long lines of people waited to see Pan’s Labyrinth, friends and I headed for another subtitled film: The Curse of Golden Flower. Similar to Hero, Director Yimou Zhang delivered a film of epic, Shakespearen porportions that feels like it can only be appreciated from a bird’s eye view.

The detail that was invested in the tapestries, furniture and jewelry are breathtaking. These weren’t just set pieces or props, they were the stars of the film. The film starts off on the right foot, introducing a mindblowingly beautiful palace inhabited by an equally beautiful, yet dark and twisted, family. The colors are rich and vibrant. Hundreds of female extras wearing gorgeous silk robes pitter-patter through the hallways, breasts pushed up and heaving, eyes cast down in respect. It’s lush, sensuous and a perfect introduction for the story that lies ahead. There is intrigue, incest, betrayal and secrets to be revealed-all key elements in a Greek tragedy. Unfortunately, the end of the film feels like it unravels into sheer lunacy than the measured, graceful tragic ending that we’re more familiar with. Yimou Zhang creates an overwhelming sense of tradition, ceremony and delusion. Despite all the shocking revelations throughout the film, it becomes more difficult to grasp what’s happening or what it all really means.

Gong Li’s ability to emote without barely moving a facial muscle has made her one of my favorite actresses. Her manaically yet poised emperor-husband (played brilliantly by Chow Yun Fat) is slowly poisoning her. If it weren’t for her constant gasping and quivering throughout the film, you’d never know it: she looks stunning in every shot. After 114 minutes, I had had enough.

Curse of the Golden Flower is certainly not Yimou Zhang’s best work (I’m looking at you too, House of Flying Daggers!) but it may be the result of poor English translation and the gulf that seperates American and ancient Chinese culture. Depending on your patience for long, elaborate Chinese films this may be one to skip. Otherwise, drink in the scenery and stellar preformances but be prepared to be stumped by the absurdity of royalty.