You see what you’ve done with your ironic hipster love of terrible movies?
I was 26 when Space Jam was released to theaters in 1996. I’m a big fan of the classic Warner Bros. animation. I’ve purchased Looney Tunes collections on laserdisc, DVD, and now Blu-ray, and I love revisiting the work of Tex Avery, Bob Clampett, Maurice Noble, Friz Freleng, Chuck Jones, Frank Tashlin, and Robert McKimson, among others. If you to ask me what televised sport is my favorite, I’ve always preferred basketball to anything else because of the pace and because of the simplicity of the game itself. It’s very pure, and even the worst NBA game is entertaining. And when it comes to Bill Murray… well, he’s on that very short list of my favorite things. Not just favorite people, and not just favorite movie stars, but overall favorite things. That’s a list that includes things like my kids, the Internet, space travel, and the advent of fire. So if anyone should have been an easy target for Space Jam, it’s me, and yet I’d be the first to tell you that Space Jam is a terrible, terrible movie that somehow made all three of those key ingredients almost wholly impossible to like.