I guess this is how traditions are made.
Henceforth, I will always think of September 5th as 'Bad/Bad Films' day. Not 'Good/Bad Films'; that would be films like this one, or that one over there, or my especial favourite 'good/bad film' of all time.
No, the 'Bad/Bad Film' is the film that at first glance disguises itself as a half decent film or at least something that is worth investigating further.
It may draw you in with the film poster that is pleasing on the eye; maybe by the trailer that is cleverly put together to make the film seem more interesting than it actually is; sometimes it plays upon the fact that the participants both in front of and behind the camera have been in stuff that you've enjoyed previously. (Step forward Peter Sollett, Rhys Darby, Nick Frost, Ralph Brown and Kevin Corrigan. You're all as guilty as bastard charged.)
Oh, and if that doesn't work in luring in the unsuspecting popcorn muncher?
Pick a theme or a time or a place that just screams 'that looks interesting'. Say, the musical and cultural revolution taking place in Britain in the sixties which was propelled, in part, by the pirate radio stations operating off the coast of Britain, or maybe, for instance, the modern day East Village in Manhattan as populated by pseuds, hipsters and teenage bridge and tunnel weekenders. Take those two random but potentially fascinating backdrops and make a couple of films so uninteresting, so uninspired that I was compelled to watch both to the very end just so that I could properly hate them both in equal measure for their jaw-dropping mediocrity.
Step forward 'Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist' and 'The Film That Tanked'. Now please take a hundred steps backwards.
Avoid these films like a Trot paper seller with a petition outsides Sainsburys on a Saturday morning.
Oh, and as a PS before I forget, three-quarter decent soundtracks don't compensate for crap scripts, faxed in acting performances and the cringeworthy 'here's the moral of the story kiddies' concluding scene that would have Annette Mills heckling from her grave, 'You must be fucking joking, mate!'.
In future, just set up a music blog, and send me the link to your mixtape . . . preferably using mediafire.