Absolute Zero

I like disaster films. It's comforting and entertaining to watch the world suffer imaginary cataclysmic events from the safety of one's couch. On the screen, everything goes kapow. Yet, the bowl of parmesan popcorn is within easy reach of my greedy paw and a cold beer froths in a mug. I sat through this film bored and annoyed, however. This is the kind of movie that begs the question: why make bad movies? Why go through the expense and the trouble when, given the effort, the results are so unaccountably awful? What is it exactly that propels unscrupulous producers, untalented directors, and third-rate actors to collaborate on cinematic ventures that never should have seen the light of day? Who makes the decisions to bring such aberrations to life and who stands the most to gain from them? Adam Sliwinski and Michael D. Jacobs, director and producer respectively, and the many actors of limited craft who participated in this film, all of you should be embarrassed to have this dreck floating about.