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Published by Dan Goodsell and Tony Czech
Unprofessional, unsolicited and unwanted opinions from Dan and Tony as they watch movies and tell you what's wrong with them.
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Send us Fan Mail The Astronaut (2025) spends a long time whispering “something is wrong” and then, in the final minutes, it starts yelling. We go full spoiler mode on this Kate Mara sci fi thriller and try to figure out how a movie can feel like nothing is happening while also setting up one of the most unhinged twist endings we have seen in a while. We talk craft the whole way through: what suspense is supposed to do, why thrillers need a steady climb of evidence, and how microbudget filmmaking can either feel inventive or like the movie is “vibing” its way past basic logic. Along the way we hit the weirdest choices, a remote house in the woods that no real space agency would use, surveillance tech that barely matters, and a family dynamic that seems engineered so the ending does not feel too cruel. We also get into the body horror tipping point, the cicada weirdness, and the moments where the film teases three different movies at once: alien infiltration, mental breakdown, and government conspiracy. Then we finally land on the twist and the actual plan, and it is so bold it makes us reconsider the whole ride. After that, we cool down with what we are watching and hating this week, from Love Island UK wins to trailer disappointments to Tony’s absolute fury at Dungeon Crawler Carl. Subscribe, share the show with a friend who loves messy sci fi, and leave a review with your verdict: does a great ending forgive a slow movie? Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail 94% on Rotten Tomatoes should feel like a slam dunk. Instead, Obsession (2026) sent us into full detective mode: how does a movie with gorgeous shots, impressive sound design, and strong acting end up feeling so slow, so consequence-free, and so weirdly safe? We walk through the wish premise (a guy wishes a woman will love him more than anyone in the world), why that setup should be terrifying on a consent and agency level, and why the film keeps slipping away from its own most disturbing idea. We also get specific about what works: a genuinely hilarious helpline call, a couple of scenes that finally lean into horror, and a handful of lines that have become instantly quotable. Then we get into what doesn’t: unclear monster rules, characters who don’t feel like they have consistent opinions, and cutaways right when the story should force real emotional fallout. Along the way we ask the question we can’t stop asking: is this a horror movie, a thriller, or a collection of TikTok-ready moments stitched together? If you’ve watched Obsession (2026) and loved it, we want to hear why, because our brains are still stuck on the “half measures.” Subscribe for more contrarian movie talk, share this with the friend who defends the 94%, and leave a review with your take: what single rewrite would fix it? Written Lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail A world where you can literally spend your life on a cup of coffee should be terrifying. Instead, In Time (2011) somehow turns one of the best sci-fi dystopia premises of the last two decades into a story that keeps dodging its own consequences, and we could not let that slide. We walk through Andrew Niccol’s time-currency concept scene by scene, from the moment Justin Timberlake’s character gets a life-changing windfall to the way the movie handles time transfer, surveillance, and the so-called Timekeepers. Along the way we get into the stuff that matters to anyone who loves film craft: why voiceover often signals a script problem, how music choices can kill tension, and why a police-state setting can’t have “we don’t have the last five minutes of footage” energy. We also give credit where it’s due, because Roger Deakins’ cinematography makes several moments look genuinely stunning even when the logic is melting down. Then we hit the big pivot: when “time is money” stops being a story engine and the movie becomes a Bonnie and Clyde style bank robbery spree. We talk class zones, tolls, the weird math of the “million years” plan, and the action beats that look unintentionally hilarious. If you’ve ever argued about plot holes, world rules, or why great premises deserve better scripts, you’ll have plenty to yell about with us. Subscribe for more hate-watching, share this with a friend who loves sci-fi movies, and leave a review with your favorite “wait, how does that work?” moment from In Time. Written Lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail A comedy can survive bad taste, broad jokes, even a ridiculous set piece, but it can’t survive refusing to commit. We kick things off with a very real spiral about money and sustainability, then take a hard left into a bigger fear that’s creeping into entertainment: AI likeness, synthetic commercials, and what happens when consent becomes optional. That thread sets up the core question we keep coming back to: in a world flooded with content, why does so much of it feel weightless? Then we get into our main event: Netflix’s Little Brother with John Cena and Eric Andre. The cast is game, the premise has solid bones, and the movie still dodges the one thing it needs most, clear stakes. We talk through the scenes that almost work, the moments that collapse under “reset button” writing, and why a redemption arc can’t land if the story won’t let anyone be truly wrong. Along the way we revisit a rule we’ll scream forever: a reference is not a joke. To close, we unpack the confusion around Louis C.K.’s new Netflix special and what his return says about comedy culture, platforms, and the ways people justify watching. If you’re thinking about comedy writing, streaming movies, AI in filmmaking, and the ethics of fandom, this one gives you plenty to argue about. Subscribe, share this with a friend who loves movie debates, and leave us a review with the worst comedy trope you’re sick of seeing. Written Lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail A future where your eyes record everything should make crime harder, truth clearer, and privacy basically extinct. That is the promise of Anon, the 2018 Netflix sci-fi noir starring Clive Owen. We wanted to love the premise. Instead, we end up asking the most brutal question a tech thriller can face: if the movie cannot follow its own rules, why should we believe any of its stakes? We break down the filmmaking choices that constantly pull us out of the story, especially the stiff first-person POV shots that feel locked to a tripod and the bizarre “gun on a stick” staging that makes tense scenes look like a dated video game. From there we dig into the bigger problems: a surveillance system that is sold as perfect but proves fallible almost immediately, hacking that seems to work differently in every scene, and a mystery that tries to hide the plot instead of building it. We also unpack the twist involving Cyrus and why the motivation never feels earned, plus the movie’s claim that everyone becomes numb and robotic in an always-recording world. Along the way we hit a few tangents that fit the theme more than you would expect, including a wild story about ChatGPT being discussed in court, plus what we are watching for fun right now and what we are reviewing next. Subscribe, share the show with a friend who loves sci-fi movies, and leave a review. What is the one “future tech” idea you actually think is coming soon? Written Lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail The wild thing about War Of The Worlds (2005) is how quickly it earns our trust and how loudly it tests it later. We sit down on Heat Watching and walk through Spielberg’s alien invasion thriller beat by beat, starting with that terrifying, razor-tight opening stretch where ordinary people do the only “heroic” thing available: make one decent choice, then make the next one fast. The sound design, the crowd behavior, the dust-covered aftermath, and the sense of public systems failing all feel brutally real, and we talk about why the movie’s 9/11 allegory still hits. Then we get into the stuff that makes us argue. Why give Ray a specific job that never pays off? Why does the timeline feel vague when the movie needs us to feel the long grind of survival? And what is the son’s arc actually doing besides forcing a few plot turns? We also talk performances: Tom Cruise is surprisingly great as a messy, selfish dad, while Dakota Fanning runs circles around almost everyone and keeps the emotion honest even when the script gets shaky. Finally, we go straight for the big debate: the basement detour with Tim Robbins, the rushed sprint to the finish, and a climax that hinges on the common cold instead of a character-driven payoff. If you love Spielberg, disaster movies, alien invasion films, or film criticism that’s equal parts admiration and frustration, you’ll have opinions here. Subscribe, share the episode with a movie friend, and leave a review, then tell us: which scene would you rewrite first? Written lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail Someone shows up in Grand Central, claims he’s from a planet called K-Pax, and calmly starts wrecking everyone’s certainty. That setup sounds like classic sci-fi, but the more we talk about the 2001 film K-Pax, the more it turns into a debate about story logic, emotional truth, and what “proof” even means when a person is clearly suffering. One of us watches Prot (Kevin Spacey) and sees a fragile psychological mystery with a trauma core. The other sees a movie that dodges tension, ignores consequences, and stitches together scenes that don’t quite click. We break down the big beats that make K-Pax so polarizing: the psychiatric ward as a strange little community, Jeff Bridges’ therapist walking the line between clinical skepticism and personal longing, the planetarium sequence that feels like undeniable evidence, and the blue bird moment that turns into a full-building celebration. We also get into the film’s loose rules about alien abilities, why the lack of outside scrutiny feels off, and how the movie’s “cures” can come across as a troubling take on mental health treatment, including its flirtation with regression hypnosis. Then the story pivots into the Santa Rosa backstory, the sprinkler trigger, and the line that sums up the whole experience: “I found what I was looking for. I wish I hadn’t.” We close with bonus hate watching (Mindy Kaling’s Not Suitable For Work), a quick shot of World Cup joy, and what we’re watching next: Spielberg’s War of the Worlds. If you like movie podcasts that argue hard but stay curious, subscribe, share this with a friend who still defends K-Pax, and leave us a review. Written Lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail A movie can be harmless and still drive you nuts, especially when you can see the better version hiding inside it. We go back to 2001 and rewatch Corky Romano, the Chris Kattan comedy that lives in a lot of people’s nostalgia, then we ask the uncomfortable question: why does it feel like the script keeps forgetting to write the joke? We walk through the big story beats and the bigger craft problems, from the “one folder of evidence” FBI premise to the endless string of classic gag setups that never escalate into a payoff. We talk about what works in spurts, like Corky being genuinely good at his veterinarian job and the brief moment when that expertise could have become the running comedic engine. Then we get into what doesn’t work: inconsistent character rules, a romance that expects you to find workplace creepiness charming, and an ending that waves away consequences because the mob boss technically didn’t commit murder. Along the way, we hit our favorite nitpicks and rewrite ideas, including the cocaine sequence, the evidence room weirdness, and the finale twist that barely matters. Then we pivot into what we’re obsessed with right now: the absurd Lego store consignment controversy exploding into lawsuits and body cam footage, plus Tony’s annual six-week Love Island USA lock-in. We also tee up next week’s rewatch, KPAX, and the arguments it’s about to resurrect. Subscribe for more movie rewatch breakdowns, share this with a friend who still quotes early 2000s comedies, and leave a review with the one scene from Corky Romano you’ll never forget. Written Lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail A spoof can be chaotic and still feel precise, but only if the movie commits. We just watched The Naked Gun reboot and ended up in a full-on argument about what modern parody movies need to work: clean setups, real escalation, and actors who play the moment like it’s life or death. We dig into non sequitur comedy and why “random” isn’t the same as “surprising.” Tony loves the occasional left-field swing, Dan wants the jokes to build instead of getting tossed away, and we both agree performance is everything. We talk about the straight man role, why some deliveries feel like reading a punchline off a cue card, and why Danny Huston comes off like the person most in sync with the movie’s tone. We also shout out the bits that actually hit: the chili dog scene, the fish people riff that keeps heightening, the perfectly timed Dave Bautista moment, and a few blink-and-you-miss-it visual jokes. Then we get into the risky stuff: reference comedy and who it’s for. When a film leans on Clippy, TiVo, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and niche culture jokes, is that clever specificity or just dating yourself on purpose? If you like movie review podcasts that go beyond thumbs up or thumbs down, this one gets into comedic timing, parody structure, and why a short runtime can be a blessing when the jokes are hit or miss. Subscribe for more weekly watches, share the episode with a friend who loves spoof comedies, and leave a review with the one gag you laughed at the hardest. What was your funniest moment? Written Lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail Shaq in a DC Comics superhero suit should be an automatic good time, but Steel (1997) somehow lands in the uncanny valley between Saturday afternoon fun and “please take this seriously.” We rewatch it scene by scene and call out the exact moments where the movie could have leaned into camp, tightened the story, or just admitted the premise is ridiculous. Instead, we get tanks creeping through the LA hills, a sonic weapon demo that goes sideways, and cops who treat chasing a seven-foot armored vigilante like a casual commute. We dig into what works (the self-aware free throw jokes, a few surprisingly solid sonic effects, the magnet hammer chaos) and what doesn’t (plot jumps, over-explained police work, and character dynamics that never pick a lane). Judd Nelson’s villain energy is a highlight, mostly because watching him posture up at Shaq will never not be funny. And yes, we talk about the moment the movie goes fully off the rails: reverse psychology saves the day, and Sparks’ wheelchair turns into an action-movie arsenal in a finale that’s equal parts confusing and unforgettable. After we close the Steel case file, we shift to what we’re watching lately, including new TV picks, plus a detour into a comedy podcast interview that left us with questions about Paul Walter Hauser. We also tee up next week’s plan to hit the new Naked Gun. Subscribe for more movie breakdowns, share this with a friend who loves a lovable mess, and leave us a review with your pick for the most baffling superhero movie. Written lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail A guy wakes up alone on a colony ship, stares at a sleeping stranger for a year, and then makes a choice the movie wants to frame as romance. That’s the moment Passengers (2016) loses us, and we can’t stop talking about why. We walk through the film’s best ingredients: a slick sci-fi setting, a genuinely scary isolation setup, a talented Jennifer Lawrence, and a premise that could have powered a tense space thriller. Then we dig into the uncomfortable stuff the screenplay keeps sanding down, from consent and confinement to how quickly the story tries to move past the damage. Along the way we roast the ship’s “rules” (food tiers, crew access, the one medical pod for thousands) and call out how the stakes keep evaporating right when they should spike. The most fun part is the fix: we pitch a version of Passengers that starts with Aurora waking up and lets the truth unravel slowly, turning the movie into the horror story it keeps accidentally teasing. We also hit the Laurence Fishburne section, the rushed malfunction plot, and the ending that asks you to feel warm and fuzzy after everything that came before. If you’re into movie review podcasts, sci-fi movie critiques, and conversations about narrative structure, character accountability, and why some “romance” plots age terribly, queue this one up. Subscribe, share it with a friend who hates this movie too, and leave us a review with your verdict: horror, romance, or both? Written lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail Tron: Ares made us do something we almost never do: we hit play, heard the soundtrack kick in, and immediately wished we could keep the speakers on while turning the screen off. Dan and Tony break down the new Tron sequel with a very specific question in mind: how can a movie look this polished and still feel like nothing is happening? We get into Jared Leto’s Ares, why the “program becomes human” arc never shows up on screen, and how the movie leans on dialogue to claim growth instead of building it through choices. From there, we pull on the threads that keep snapping: the permanence code timer that should create tension but rarely changes anyone’s strategy, the laser printing tech that can seemingly create anything without limits, and the corporate world details that make the characters feel smaller than the story says they are. We also talk through the chase beats, the ENCOM tower moment, and the strange action editing choices that keep fights from reading clearly. Along the way, we compare key moments to Tron: Legacy and why that film’s locked-in camera language and game structure still land. We close with the finale, Athena’s wasted potential, the post-credit Sark tease, and a quick detour into shows we are actually enjoying right now, including Alien Earth, Widow’s Bay, and The Pitt. Next week we are watching Passengers, and we strongly recommend going in cold. Subscribe for more movie talk, share the episode with a Tron fan, and leave a review so more listeners can find us. What is the one thing you would fix first in Tron: Ares? Written lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail Marty Supreme looks like a prestige movie, sounds like three different movies at once, and plays like a sports film that refuses to give you the one thing you came for: a reason to care who wins. We walk through the plot beat by beat, then stop and argue about why it feels so strange when the directing and performances seem competent, yet the story keeps slipping out of our hands. We get into the loud, anachronistic soundtrack choices (80s and 90s thriller cues crashing into a 1950s table tennis world), the missing “training and redemption” architecture that most sports movies rely on, and the core issue that never goes away: Marty is written as a guy who charms everyone, but the movie rarely shows the charm on screen. Along the way we hit the money logic that never adds up, the Globetrotters detour, the dog hustle spiral, and the moments that should create consequences but get brushed past. Then we land on the ending, including a reported early draft twist that could explain a lot: a cut vampire ending tied to the 80s music. Whether that’s real or just Hollywood legend, it gives us one more angle to test what Marty Supreme is trying to say about ambition, ego, and exploitation. If you’ve seen Marty Supreme, listen and come argue with us. Subscribe, share the show with a fellow movie hater, and leave a review. Did the movie work for you as a character study, or did it fall apart the moment it asked you to root for Marty? Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail A movie about condoms, cocaine, and the World Cup should be a layup for a wild studio comedy. Balls Up somehow turns that setup into a string of half-formed bits, missing reactions, and scenes that refuse to escalate. So we did what we do best: hate watched it closely and pulled it apart like a broken engine. We talk through why the central buddy comedy dynamic never locks in, how Mark Wahlberg looks stranded without a co-star who can elevate the rhythm, and why “straight man” only works when the straight man is still funny. We dig into the biggest script problems: characters who change traits scene to scene, stakes that get introduced then ignored, and jokes that explain themselves instead of landing. Along the way we call out the few moments that actually spark, like the dialysis callback, the Larry David translator voice, the karaoke choice, and the one truly committed set piece involving a vampire fish and a very unlucky pee break. After the movie autopsy, we pivot to what we’ve been enjoying lately, including long-form YouTube essays that dissect the MrBeast machine, plus Tony’s current comfort watch with the American Gladiators reboot. We also tease our next watch, Marty Supreme, and briefly vent about how modern reboots like Frasier can still have great actors but fail on writing. If you laughed, cringed, or disagreed with our takes, subscribe, share the episode, and leave a review, then tell us the one change you’d make to fix Balls Up. Written Lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail Dark Crimes wants to be a grim, prestige-leaning true crime thriller, but the further we follow it, the less it holds together. We sit down with our notes and try to track basic things a crime mystery should make clear: who wants what, what the evidence means, and why Jim Carrey’s detective is even making these choices. Instead, we find missing motivation, unclear timelines, and a “reveal” that feels like it changes the vibe more than the story. The most heated part of our conversation is the adaptation problem. The real case that inspires the film has a genuinely interesting hook, yet the movie pivots into a sex cult angle that we think adds nothing to the central mystery while pushing the material toward exploitation. We talk about what that choice does to the theme, why the ending lands with a thud, and how basic screenwriting tools like dialogue and a strong investigative partner are oddly absent. If you like film criticism, movie podcasts, and honest breakdowns of plot holes, this one is a full teardown. After we finally put the movie down, we cleanse the palate with what we actually enjoyed this week, from Scream 7 to the return of American Gladiators, plus a few side quests into reality TV and why Traitors works. We also get into a surprisingly real topic: the influencer career dream and what happens when the audience moves on, then connect it to the creative trap of waiting for perfect camera gear before you make anything. If you’re listening, subscribe for more movie chaos, share the episode with a friend who loves a good bad-movie autopsy, and leave a review telling us your all-time most confusing thriller twist. Written Lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail A three-hour sci-fi epic shouldn’t feel like you accidentally hit replay, yet that’s the vibe we can’t shake while breaking down Avatar 3: Fire and Ash. We’re Dan and Tony, and we watch the movies everyone’s already seen, then pull on the threads that the hype cycle ignores: character logic, story structure, and whether the emotional moments are actually earned. We dig into the big question the movie flirts with and then seems to abandon: what’s the real moral dilemma here? From Jake Sully’s sudden turn toward “maybe I should kill Spider” to the recycled son-rebels-again storyline, we talk about why stakes don’t work when they show up without buildup. We also get into the film’s environmental themes, whale hunting brutality, and the colonialism allegory, especially when the humans are cartoonishly cruel and the Na’vi feel oddly disconnected from the animals the franchise used to treat as sacred. Then we hit the craft stuff: CGI that still looks impressive, creature design that almost saves scenes, sound design choices that make us scream at our screens, and worldbuilding rules that seem to change depending on what the plot needs. Plus, an intermission you have to hear to believe: a mouse breaks into Tony’s Girl Scout cookies and sparks an all-out household war. Subscribe for more movie reviews, share this with a friend who loves film criticism, and leave a review if you want us to keep surviving blockbusters like this. What’s the one moment in Fire and Ash you think should have worked but didn’t? Lovingly written by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail A sequel can be bigger, darker, and meaner, but it still has to make sense. We take on Greenland: Migration as a natural disaster movie and post-apocalyptic survival thriller that keeps sprinting past its own logic: rations that magically last years, bunker life that feels weirdly comfortable, and character deaths that happen so fast they barely register. We’re not asking for a documentary. We’re asking for cause and effect, stakes that stick, and a world that doesn’t collapse the second you think about fuel, medicine, or basic survival behavior. We also try to untangle the movie’s endgame, from the “civil war” language to the supposed war zone guarding a fertile crater in France. That’s where we introduce our favorite concept from the show: the “Dan Goodsell line,” the one sentence a script uses to explain away something bizarre so you’ll stop asking questions. When that line works, it’s a cheat we’ll happily accept. When it doesn’t, it becomes the loudest problem in the scene. After we vent, we pivot to stuff we actually enjoyed, including Brawl in Cellblock 99 as a reminder of what it looks like when a movie sits in a situation and lets tension build. We also hit quick recommendations and TV talk, from Send Help to Jury Duty, and we tee up what we’re watching next. If you’re into movie podcast reviews, disaster movie debates, and screenwriting craft, you’ll have plenty to argue with us about. Subscribe, share the show, and leave a review, then tell us: what’s the worst plot hole you’ll still forgive? Written lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail An AI judge. A 90-minute timer. One chair that can end you. Mercy sells itself like a sleek future-court thriller, but the more we follow its rules, the less the world holds together and that’s where our review gets viciously fun. We walk through the movie’s central idea: Judge Maddox runs the Mercy Court as judge, jury, and (indirectly) executioner, while Chris Pratt’s Detective Chris Raven has to prove his innocence with no lawyer and almost no real investigation happening on the system’s side. We dig into the “guilt percentage” threshold, the film’s obsession with interconnected twists, and the strange choice to make the supposed hero an abusive alcoholic, which flips the entire emotional engine of the story. If you care about screenwriting, pacing, and believable stakes, we call out the exact moments where the logic collapses. The conversation also goes bigger than one movie. We argue about what AI can and can’t do, why people over-trust chatbots, and why any story about algorithmic justice needs an actual point of view on ethics, bias, and accountability. Mercy keeps teasing a message about AI courts and policing, then swerves into a finale where the AI behaves however the plot demands, leaving us asking what the movie even thinks it’s saying. We wrap with what we’re enjoying right now (Bait and Company Retreat) and tee up the next review: Greenland 2. If you listen, share your take, subscribe for the next one, and leave a review or a comment telling us where you think we’re dead wrong. Written Lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail A time portal opens on a soccer field, a future soldier somehow addresses the whole stadium without a mic, and the world immediately agrees to a draft that sends regular people into an alien war with barely any training. That’s the kind of logic we can’t let go, so we put The Tomorrow War (2021) on the table and ask what happened to the “streaming blockbuster” era where huge movies drop on Prime Video and vanish from everyone’s brain by Monday. We walk through what works and what collapses: the video game structure, the unclear mission goals, the action geography that keeps getting fuzzier, and the time travel movie rules that change whenever the script needs a shortcut. We also get specific about casting and emotion, including why Chris Pratt’s approach doesn’t sell the family story, why Betty Gilpin deserved more to do, and how J.K. Simmons shows up and immediately makes the movie feel more alive. And yes, we give Sam Richardson his flowers because he threads the needle of being funny without breaking the tone. From alien design to the toxin plotline to the government decisions that make no sense, we keep pitching the cleaner, meaner sci fi version hiding inside the premise, including the ending we thought they were building toward. We wrap with what we’re watching next and our next pick, Mercy, because apparently we’re doing a Chris Pratt double feature whether anyone asked for it or not. Subscribe, share the show with a movie nerd friend, and leave a review if you want more deep dives into forgotten sci fi action movies. What’s the one change that would’ve fixed The Tomorrow War for you? Written Lovingly by AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Send us Fan Mail A reboot can survive a bad budget, cheap CGI, and even a silly premise. What it cannot survive is refusing to be the movie it advertises. We dig into the Anaconda remake and the strange choice to set up jump scares, a Brazil jungle prologue, and a “we’re living the movie we’re making” hook, then drain it all of horror, tension, and consequences the moment the story gets moving. We break down the biggest screenwriting and structure problems: the movie within a movie never becomes a real, trackable film with real scenes, so every setback feels weightless. We compare it to Tropic Thunder to show why that format works when the inner production is coherent and the danger forces characters to change. From there we pitch practical fixes that would have made this reboot a stronger horror comedy, including a clearer snake-driven goal, escalating stakes on the river, and character arcs that actually clash. We also give credit where it is due. Steve Zahn repeatedly steals scenes with commitment and sharp delivery, and a handful of gags genuinely hit, from Buffalo Sober to the absurd “pee on it” bit to late-stage slapstick that finally feels like a creature feature. We wrap by sharing what we watched this week, then tee up next week’s review of The Tomorrow War for another round of big budget pain. If you enjoy movie podcasts, film criticism, reboot debates, and craft talk about comedy writing, hit subscribe, share the show with a friend who loves bad remakes, and leave a review. What is the one change you would make to turn this into a real Anaconda movie? Written lovingly with AI Be our friend! Dan: @shakybacon Tony: @tonydczech And follow the podcast on IG: @hatewatchingDAT
Ranking source
Apple Podcasts rankings via the Mato Topic Intelligence Platform.
Observed September 18, 2026. Cached outside the daily freshness window; the positions keep the date they were taken on.
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