Most people are too busy to keep up with all the good movies they'd like to see, so why should anyone spend their precious time watching the bad ones? In Why It's OK to Love Bad Movies, philosopher and cinematic bottom feeder Matthew Strohl enthusiastically defends a fondness for disreputable films. Combining philosophy of art with film criticism, Strohl flips conventional notions of "good" and "bad" on their heads and makes the case that the ultimate value of a work of art lies in what it can add to our lives. By this measure, some of the worst movies ever made are also among the best. Through detailed discussions of films such as Troll 2, The Room, Batman & Robin, Twilight, Ninja III: The Domination, and a significant portion of Nicolas Cage's filmography, Strohl argues that so-called "bad movies" are the ones that break the rules of the art form without the aura of artistic seriousness that surrounds the avant-garde. These movies may not win any awards, but they offer rich opportunities for creative engagement and enable the formation of lively fan communities, and they can be a key ingredient in a fulfilling aesthetic life. Key Features: Written in a humorous, approachable style, appealing to readers with no background in philosophy. Elaborates the rewards of loving bad movies, such as forming unlikely social bonds and developing refinement without narrowness. Discusses a wide range of beloved bad movies, including Plan 9 from Outer Space, The Core, Battlefield Earth, and Freddy Got Fingered. Contains the most extensive discussion of Nicolas Cage ever included in a philosophy book.

Most people are too busy to keep up with all the good movies they'd like to see, so why should anyone spend their precious time watching the bad ones? In Why It's OK to Love Bad Movies, philosopher and cinematic bottom feeder Matthew Strohl enthusiastically defends a fondness for disreputable films. Combining philosophy of art with film criticism, Strohl flips conventional notions of "good" and "bad" on their heads and makes the case that the ultimate value of a work of art lies in what it can add to our lives. By this measure, some of the worst movies ever made are also among the best. Through detailed discussions of films such as Troll 2, The Room, Batman & Robin, Twilight, Ninja III: The Domination, and a significant portion of Nicolas Cage's filmography, Strohl argues that so-called "bad movies" are the ones that break the rules of the art form without the aura of artistic seriousness that surrounds the avant-garde. These movies may not win any awards, but they offer rich opportunities for creative engagement and enable the formation of lively fan communities, and they can be a key ingredient in a fulfilling aesthetic life. Key Features: Written in a humorous, approachable style, appealing to readers with no background in philosophy. Elaborates the rewards of loving bad movies, such as forming unlikely social bonds and developing refinement without narrowness. Discusses a wide range of beloved bad movies, including Plan 9 from Outer Space, The Core, Battlefield Earth, and Freddy Got Fingered. Contains the most extensive discussion of Nicolas Cage ever included in a philosophy book.

We live in a true golden age for movies and television. With the advent of streaming services and video-on-demand, we no longer even need to go to a library or video store to access a vast store of treasures. For just a few bucks a month, we're able to pipe solid gold directly into our living rooms: classic cinema from all periods of Hollywood history, inventive television series from all across the world, and audacious new works that expand the possibilities of modern film. Yet, given the chance, most of us barely scratch the surface of what's available. And this makes a certain kind of sense. At the end of hard day, would you rather watch Ingmar Bergman's five-hour family drama Fanny and Alexander, or queue up another episode of The Office? Nonetheless, as Matthew Strohl explains in this witty and engaging book, we're doing ourselves a disservice by overlooking so-called "difficult" movies and TV. Hard to Watch is a joyous celebration of works that might seem boring, pretentious, or offensive at first glance but that offer their own distinctive pleasures when we give ourselves over to them. Writing with infectious enthusiasm--and a total lack of condescension--Strohl covers everything from the films of directors like Terence Malick, Andrei Tarkovsky, and David Lynch to such disreputable works as the Saw movies and I Spit on Your Grave, evocatively showing why they're worth the time to engage with, and how to get the most out of them. Whether you're a film buff looking to up your game or just someone who's bored with Netflix, Hard to Watch is a brisk and accessibly guide to expanding your horizons.