It’s funny how life works sometimes.
The first time I watched Demolition Man, I hated it. Now, twenty-four years later, after watching it a second time, I think it’s fair to say that I saw a completely different movie this time around. The question, then, is which of us changed? Me, or Demolition Man?
I’m gonna go with me on this one, though I wouldn’t put it past our Lizard-People overlords to alter Demolition Man just to mess with me.
Maybe it’s age? Maybe I’ve learned to see the world through new eyes. Maybe I’ve learned to love. Maybe I’ve danced in the rain, like no one was watching. Maybe it’s ironic, don’t you think? Maybe I’ve fallen in love again, for the first time, for the second time, for the first time. Maybe I’ve learned to let my smile change the world, but to never let the world change my smile. Maybe, just maybe, during those times when there was only one set of footprints on that beach, the Demolition Man was carrying me.
Side question: Who was the Demolition Man, anyway? Was it Snipes or Stallone? I mean, Snipes blew up more shit, but Stallone was wiping his ass with foreign objects and falling in love with rat-meat burgers. Shouldn’t the movie have been called Demolition Men? I digress.
Upon second viewing, I saw beyond the veil and into the deep, throbbing core of Demolition Man. You know what I saw? It might surprise you. I saw a movie that was an even bigger piece of shit than I had initially thought. I saw through the shittiness and saw even more shittiness behind that first shittiness. I’ll bet if I live long enough to see through that second level of shittiness that I’ll see even more shittiness. I’ll bet it’s shittiness all the way through.
You can download our commentary for Demolition Ma(e)n at out Libsyn page, or via Itunes. So go do that already.
P.S. The Deathstalker contest is still on, you fucking monsters. Stop withholding your affection from us.