I know we’re not supposed to smile at the misfortune of others but I can’t help but chuckle in reading about the many troubles that entertainers Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez have encountered with their record-breaking flop Grindhouse (to date the $100 million movie hasn’t even grossed $20 million and, at a per-screen average of just $494, means this incredibly-hyped movie has been playing largely in near-empty theaters).

While both Tarantino and Rodriguez are unquestionably successful and talented in their own way I’ve long wondered when most critics (as well as countless film students, filmmakers and indie-film decision-makers) would finally recognize these two for what they truly are – derivative entertainers, not real independent filmmakers producing original work. Simply put, the majority of their combined filmography is nothing more than B-Movie cliches, flashy camera moves, stolen plots, marketing gimmicks and “hip” music sandwiched between a healthy helping of sadistic violence, scantly-clad women and locker room profanity. That this “method” of filmmaking has somehow been championed as “art” makes a strong case for mandatory IQ testing for film critics.

Better luck next time Robert and Quentin. And I’m guessing I’m not the only one smiling – I bet filmmakers like John Cassavetes (looking from down from above), Bill Forsyth, Hal Hartley, Victor Nunez, Jim Jarmusch and John Sayles might also be grinning a little bit too…

I received some wonderful news from the always energetic and prolific Jeff Rapsis (Associate Publisher of HippoPress and the composer of the music score for Dangerous Crosswinds).