Where has all the originality gone? I mean, really. Could it be that this post-Janet-Jackson-breast-flash-FCC-gone-Orwell nation of ours has, in its grotesque zeal, made originality the eighth deadly sin?

So much of what the general public is exposed to these days in terms of mass media is tiresome, feeble-minded crapola dolled up with big names, bells and whistles, and a side of heavy-duty-so-thick-you-can-choke-on-it-cliché.

Case in point:

Recently, my ladylove and I took in a showing of Van Helsing. Now without question, the action was impressive, and the special effects were not to go unnoticed.

However, the plot is a different story entirely.

What could’ve been an impressive storyline laced with sly literary, mythical, and biblical references was trumped by your standard issue over-the-top Hollywood flash. In a bizarre amalgamation of both highbrow and lowbrow, Van Helsing stands as a baffling anomaly of a movie. To put it simply, the film’s plot, which was just a hair’s inch away from being intellectually stimulating for the well-read and learned masses, was more or less defecated on for the sake of banal Hollywood action.

I mean, they could’ve really gone against the grain and tried to put out a reasonably intelligent fantasy movie. But instead, they followed the typical norms…

Dark, mysterious hero must defeat nigh-impossible nemesis with whom he has an apparent past. Meanwhile, finds himself falling in love with extremely gorgeous, deceptively skillful, and incredibly foreign female protagonist who initially butts heads with him. Naturally, she has a loved one who has fallen prey to the main villain, and there is also a meek sidekick who serves up equal parts comedy relief, surprising intellect, and flights of true bravery. By the end, the hero’s past is revealed to a degree, and he succeeds in killing his nemesis, but fails to save the woman he loves. By film’s end, he sails off into the sunset, and we, the audience, are left with the impression that the hero fully intends to continue his quest and go on fighting the supernatural forces of evil.

Don’t blame me for ruining this movie, because you’ve already seen it.

And what kills me is that you’re dealing with so much potential here! I mean, you’ve got characters rich in film and literary history. Dracula, the Wolfman, Frankenstein’s monster, and Van Helsing the monster hunter himself. There is no reason that the screenwriters couldn’t have done some thoughtful research into the characters and really woven a story unique unto itself. With such a rich tapestry of characters, they really ought to be ashamed of the end product.

And the funny thing is, despite topping the box office for a week or two, the inevitable drop-off will tell the true story of just how “engaging” these big-budget films are to the general public. Nowadays, most filmmakers are just content to put out a lukewarm, moderately viewable film that will pull in modest numbers from the theater box office, but break even in DVD sales.

Now to be fair, just because something isn’t original doesn’t necessarily mean it’s bad. Even something as painfully cliché as Van Helsing managed to offer up some entertaining moments. I mean, if that were really the case, I’m pretty sure something like Dawn Of The Dead wouldn’t have wound up making as much scratch as it did at the box office.

Before we go any further, I’ll prove my point. I actually liked The Punisher.

Shut up.

Nevertheless, I do wish that today’s modern films could offer up just a little bit more originality, just a little something extra to capture the imagination and really demonstrate a will to push the envelope an inch further.

Which brings me to today’s subject. About a month ago, I rented an independent film called Bubba Ho-Tep. The film is a diamond in the rough of modern day cinema, simply so unique and bizarre that it is beyond description.

The main character of the film is an elderly Elvis Presley, played by the one and only chingod Bruce Campbell, who is confined to an old folks’ home in Texas. Apparently, some thirty years ago, Elvis decided he no longer wanted the life of a superstar, and switched places with a superb Elvis impersonator named Sebastian Haff. So Haff became Elvis, and Elvis became Sebastian Haff, working club circuits impersonating a man that impersonated himself.

Right out the gate, y’know this one’s a gem.

But it gets better. See, Haff had a severe heart condition, so he wound up dying of a heart attack, explaining the “Elvis is alive” phenomenon. Elvis, meanwhile, continued to make a living impersonating himself, until he broke his hip while performing onstage in the 1980’s. From there, he wound up in a convalescent home with a bad hip and a growth on his penis.

Genius.

His only human contact in the home is a condescending aid who “lubes his crankshaft,” according to the former King, and an elderly black man named Jack, played by Ossie Davis, who claims to be former president John F. Kennedy. See, Jack claims that half his brain has been replaced with a small sandbag, and the other half is kept functioning in a lab in the Pentagon, which explains how he can be alive after being shot in the head. As far as his skin color, Jack elaborates, “That’s how clever they are! They dyed me this color!”

I know what you’re thinking. How can this thing get any better/stranger?

Brace yourselves.

A mummy is on the loose in the nursing home, killing the residents by sucking their souls through their assholes.

Brilliant.

So Elvis and Jack, being the cultural heroes they are, team up to take out this ass-sucking, soul-eating mummy.

Awesomeness.

Now, aside from being completely original, this film is great for several reasons. It has that quirky, offbeat humor typical of a Bruce Campbell outing. It endears you to the characters, as you real feel for Elvis and Jack. Despite their apparent craziness, you develop a connection to them and want them to win. Moreover, it’s also a fairly somber film, as it does offer a commentary on society’s treatment of the elderly. Point in case: Elvis’s roommate Bull passes away in the first five minutes of the film, and his daughter visits the nursing home pretty much for the first time since old Bull was admitted. Little things like that strike a chord with the viewer, and you really appreciate the film for being such a creative endeavor.

I admit, not all independent films are this clever. Many of them are pompous, overblown clichés of art culture and the supposedly nouveau riche. It doesn’t take long for the viewer to realize that he or she is actually just watching a basic love story that has been transplanted far away from the mainstream, at which point the viewer feels cheated out of a couple hours of life.

Well, at least that’s how I feel.

What I’m getting at folks, is that you could go to the theater and blow $8.50 on your generic Jerry Bruckheimer action schlock starring Nicolas Cage, you could waste 90 minutes of your life watching Kate Hudson throw her once-promising career away on a piss-poor romantic comedy with all the trimmings, or you could kill time by taking in the latest teen-gross out comedy that so blatantly steals its flavor from Porky’s.

Or you could take a chance on the unusual and really test yourself as a filmgoer. Just hit up the Internet Movie Database, scour around and see what looks interesting to you. You might find something original and wonderfully different.

And if that doesn’t work, just go see Spider-Man 2.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.