I Love These Two Guilty Pleasure Movies and Have Absolutely No Shame

Shameless, I say

I thought this would be something I could write quickly and then move on to a Springsteen article (it’s mid-July and I have not written a single thing about Bruce yet), but I was wrong. It could be classic case of me overthinking things, but the phrase “guilty pleasure” gave me pause. From multiple dictionary definitions, the general consensus is that in this case a guilty pleasure would be enjoying a film that I’m ashamed to admit I like because it’s considered crap by most people.

Here’s the thing: I like a lot of movies that are considered crap by most people (Kevin Smith’s entire catalogue comes immediately to mind) and have no shame about it whatsoever. Are movies I have no guilt about actually guilty pleasures? Should I be ashamed that I’m not ashamed? Am I letting a simple prompt throw me into an existential crisis?

The answer to those three questions are maybe, no, and what else is new. The hell with it; here are the two I chose. Are they guilty pleasures? I’ll let you decide.

Grease 2 (1982). You can keep the so-called-classic original Grease (I agree with the theory that Sandy drowned at the beginning and the rest of the film was just a fantasy she had while dying). Grease 2, however, is awesome, if only for two sets of two words: Michelle Pfeiffer and Cool Rider.

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