Watch it again! For whatever reason, some films gain in appreciation, status and enjoyment

If you didn’t get the appeal of Ryan Reynolds’ wisecracking mercenary superhero in Deadpool the first time around, our critic suggests you give it a second chance.
If you didn’t get the appeal of Ryan Reynolds’ wisecracking mercenary superhero in Deadpool the first time around, our critic suggests you give it a second chance.

One of the downsides of being a film critic is that we are asked to make a quick and measured pronouncement of a movie after only getting to screen it once. Often, films need more time than we're given to marinate properly, and sometimes, the film's true genius is only revealed after multiple screenings, over time, after your preconceptions and expectations have all melted away.

Singular films demand a singular viewing, but unintentionally or not, we bring in all sorts of baggage to our screenings: Is this a director whose previous work we have enjoyed/despised? Is the cast filled with interesting unknowns, or stuffed with super-famous types? Is genre one we tend to like (let's say "submarine dramas") or one with which we historically struggle (glossy rom-coms)?

Most of the time we can get by on first impressions: Generally speaking, if a movie is truly sublime or absolutely dreadful, our instincts are more than likely going to be accurate; but every so often something slips past us, a film actually beckons far more than we initially gave it credit for. In many cases, we won't get to make a deeper reflection upon it until we see it again, and this is where our beleaguered cable company can prove to be absolutely invaluable.

Because of their policy of running the same films on different channels over and over again for a week or two, we get the chance to watch bits and pieces of the same films just by flipping through channels. In this way, suddenly a scene comes up from a film we previously discounted and it holds our interest better than we remembered. Before too long, we're sitting there, watching the whole thing again, and maybe again after that on a different channel, until we look forward to being able to watch it again.

When we're lucky, a film we previously thought was inaccessible becomes wide open to us, and we learn to appreciate it on its own merits, without the bureaucracy of our critical consciousness. Over the years, I've amassed a small army of such films, rudely discounted by me at first, only for me to finally come around to them on my own time. Here, then, is an alphabetized list of some of these originally misjudged films, with my original reaction to them, and my enhanced reaction upon further viewings.

NOTE: You might notice a fair number of these are comedies, which suggests to me (using admittedly subjective and extremely limited data) that the genre tends to hit or miss the most based on the surface noise of what's going on around me when I first see it. Sometimes, I guess, we just aren't in the mood.

Deadpool (2016): First Viewing: A loud, brassy superhero flick with the usual kind of origin story, lots of plot holes, and a few over-the-top performances that were only vaguely amusing.

10th Viewing: A clever, lightning fast, whipsmart comedy that singlehandedly pulled the superhero genre out of Saturday matinees and onto midnight screenings. Ryan Reynolds has finally found himself, and his star power here is almost enough to burn off the stench of his previous star-turn efforts.

Best Element: So many to choose from! But Deadpool's catty back-and-forths with Negasonic Teenage Warhead (Brianna Hildebrand) are absolutely priceless (sample: "Look! I'm a teenage girl, I'd rather be anywhere than here! I'm all about long sullen silences, followed by mean comments, followed by more silence! So what's it gonna be: long sullen silence or mean comment? Go on, take your pick.")

Donnie Darko (2001): First Viewing: Confusing, atmospheric wannabe mystery doesn't even understand itself.

10th Viewing: Brilliantly peculiar and unnerving teen drama carries with it the perfect sense of existential dread and misery we all felt when we were 15. Jake Gyllenhaal, with his expressively plaintive eyes, is perfectly cast, and somehow, someway writer/director Richard Kelly makes a dude wearing a large bunny suit (played by James Duval) absolutely terrifying.

Best Element: The movie-theater scene (a Halloween/Frightmare double-feature, appropriately enough) where young Donnie sits with his sleeping GF (Jena Malone) and is approached by Frank, setting off a bizarre tête-à-tête. (Sample: Donnie: Why are you wearing that stupid bunny suit? Frank: Why are you wearing that stupid man suit?)

Punch-Drunk Love (2002): First Viewing: Dissonant and off-putting, somewhere in-between a comedy and a drama, and oddly lacking in coherence. The Johnny Greenwood soundtrack is totally distracting. Also, what is Adam Sandler doing here?

10th Viewing: Heartfelt and avoidant of cliches, Paul Thomas Anderson's oft-underappreciated drama presents a pair of difficult people who somehow find each other and refuse to let go; a precursor, of sorts, to his latest opus Phantom Thread, and every bit as iconoclastic and idiosyncratic as his other work. Greenwood's score, cranked up to almost dialogue-obscuring levels, provides just the right amount of emotional dissonance that is entirely in keeping with the characters' levels of discomfort in the outside world. Sandler turns out to be a bold and triumphant choice, turning his stock boy/man character into something resembling actual pathos.

Best Element: It's certainly not his biggest, or most audacious role in a Paul Thomas Anderson film, but Philip Seymour Hoffman's turn as an abrasive mattress salesman who attempts to extort Sandler's character's frequent use of a sex hotline, shows the late actor's insane range and clarity.

Rounders (1998): First Viewing: Boring poker drama talks incomprehensible, card-playing gibberish, while rolling out a series of character actors chewing up the scenery.

10th Viewing: One of the more enjoyably rewatchable films of the last couple of decades, John Dahl's film actually presaged the Poker boom of the early aughts, which was greatly augmented by TV coverage of the major tournaments. Featuring a stellar cast, including Matt Damon, John Turturro, Edward Norton, Gretchen Moll and John Malkovich, who plays the unforgettably scaly Teddy KGB with a thoroughly ridiculous Russian accent, the film flies from great scene to great scene and -- wait for it -- never folds.

Best Element: The showdown between Damon's Mike McD and Malko's Teddy KGB is a delicious blend of one-upmanship and total ownage, with serious burns flying across the table in both directions. For years, I've used Malkovich's sublime Russian accented line "very aggressive" ("veddddy AG-greee-ESS-ive") in every possible situation. The film is filled with similarly small but brilliant line-readings.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (2010): First Viewing: Fast-paced and utterly forgettable millennial comedy based either on manga, a graphic novel, or some sort of video game, it has Michael Cera, of all wimpy people, having to duke it out with a series of ex-boyfriends of his beau (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), each more annoying than the one previous.

10th Viewing: Absolutely hilarious pop-culture mishmash with its heart in the right place, and so many dropped lines, deadpan jokes, and creative filmmaking tricks from Edgar Wright, the film literally doesn't have a down scene. It's wall-to-wall hilarity, with its 20-something Canadians living in world I would positively love to spend more time in.

Best Element: Take your pick, as there are a great deal from which to choose, but Kieran Culkin's turn as Pilgrim's gay roomie, so filled with wit and vinegar he could be his own salad dressing, never fails to crack me up.

that thing you do! (1996): First Viewing: Standard one-hit wonder narrative, with a band from Erie, Pa., finding the magical combination of luck and timing to produce a single hit song hits the usual notes, and also suffers from the fact that it has virtually no conflict for about 85 percent of its screen time.

10th Viewing: ... which turns out to be a brilliant turn by writer/director Tom Hanks, making his behind-the-camera debut. Because Hanks, who also appears as the band's high-powered manager, moves so confidently with his young subjects, the film develops its own kind of pace, which leads to a perfectly agreeable climax without any of the melodramatic fanfare normally associated with such films. Understated though it may be, it features fine performances from its extended cast (including Steve Zahn, Liv Tyler and Tom Everett Scott), and a sweet conviction about its characters that allows everyone to shine in their own way. Kind of like the other side of verite, sometimes life can just be a sweet ride for a while, and even if the run can't last forever, it's best to grab hold of these moments and let them carry you as far as they will go.

Best Element: Generated from a national songwriting contest, the film's signature song, written by Adam Schlesinger of Fountains of Wayne, is every bit as catchy -- and snappy! -- as it's meant to be. Hearing it multiple times, as it's being transformed from mopey ballad to uptempo dance number is especially energizing.

The Big Lebowski (1997): First Viewing: Coen brothers' complicated kidnap-gone-wrong plot ends up looping us right back to where we began, negating the purpose of the thing in the process.

10th Viewing: Where to begin? One of the most amusing cult films ever made, everything -- from Jeff Bridges' and John Goodman's classic performances, to the film's eminently quotable dialogue -- turns out to be absolutely perfect for the Coens' purposes. As with a great deal of their other films, Lebowski only gets better with each viewing. Bonus elements include an inspired soundtrack, cobbled together with longtime Coens collaborator T Bone Burnett, and a dream sequence set to Kenny Rogers' "Just Dropped In," which is worth its weight in gold ingots.

Best Element: Impossible to choose, but the funniest moment for me is when Lebowski, in full PI mode, infiltrates the mansion of the sinister Jackie Treehorn (Ben Gazarra), and thinks he has uncovered an important clue by tracing over the faint traces of pencil mark indentations left on a pad of paper by the phone.

The Hudsucker Proxy (1994): First Viewing: The second Coens' entry here seemed too big and broad for the brothers' more indie sensibilities upon first viewing. Produced by mega bigwig Joel Silver, it seemed to me that they were given a bigger budget than they quite knew what to do with, and therefore felt much less singular and careful as their previous work.

10th Viewing: Riotous fun as a throwback love-story farce involving a huge, evil corporation being lead by Paul Newman, and a warm, innocent country bumpkin (played by Tim Robbins) they put in charge just to plummet the stock price for their own greedy purposes. Stand out performances abound, especially from Jennifer Jason Leigh, channeling her inner Mae West banter, as a cynical reporter who pretends to be from Goofus' home city (Muncie, Ind., naturally) in order to figure him out for her paper. Clever and captivating, the film has one of their lighter touches.

Best Element: Any of the rapid-fire repartee from Leigh and co-worker Bruce Campbell; the brilliant sequence involving the fall-and-rapid rise of the popularity of the hula hoop ("You know, for kids!")

Tombstone (1993): First Viewing: Difficult circumstances I decline to get into spoiled my first viewing of this umpteenth retelling of the OK Corral, but it seemed to me pretty patently ridiculous: A bunch of complicated facial hair disguising a paper thin premise that did little to shed any further light on the incident.

10th Viewing: Vastly more interesting and varied than Lawrence Kasdan's Wyatt Earp that came out that next year, it turns out George P. Cosmatos' film had quite a bit more to recommend it in the end, beyond just taking me in with the indomitable Tucson landscape. In a word, the entire film hinges on the performance of Val Kilmer, and the dude, for all his peculiarities since, absolutely nails it. From his heavy vocal inflection ("My hy-POC-cracy knows no boundsssss") to his successful use of period slang ("I'm your huckleberry"), Kilmer is unforgettable, and easily the most successful role of his career.

Best Element: "Why, Johnny Ringo, you look like somebody just walked over your graaaave."

MovieStyle on 01/26/2018

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