I have a degree in fine art, so I am loathe to say "this is" or "this isn't." I say, instead, "I think" or "it seems" or "in my opinion." In terms of art, in whatever form, it usually comes down to personal opinion. I like "Magritte," you make think he is obvious and boring. You may like "A Bug's Life," I think it's too unfocused. I love "Mars Attacks," everyone else in the universe hated it. It doesn't matter, in the long run.

So, as a pretentious person (sorry, I mean, artist), I tend to qualify everything. I am loathe to present my opinions as fact. (I NEVER use absolutes! Nyuk, nyuk nyuk.) I say, "I think 'Cat Women of the Moon' is a terrible film" or "In my opinion, 'The War of the Worlds' is flawed but great."

So, perhaps you will understand when I say, without qualification, that "Maidstone" is the worst movie ever made.

I saw this film about 15 years ago, in the American Film Institute's theatre in Washington, DC. At the start of the screening, there were perhaps ten or twelve other people there. By the time the end credits started to roll, I was alone. It was, I suppose, one of those macho things. (Could I actually make it through this movie? Did I have the right stuff? Could I endure this?)

It was directed by, and stars, novelist Norman Mailer. Significantly, there are no writing credits for the film (as I saw it), although in the end credits, it appears Norman had a hand in the editing. The entire thing seems to have been improvised from beginning to end. This could possibly work if there was a plot, and the cast was filled with talented actors, but neither was the case. I think Norman just gathered everyone together, said, "Wander around a bit and talk," and then yelled, "Action!" Hey, it could be -- it was made in 1969.

Actually, Rip Torn is in it, in a very, very early role for him. And he provides the only interest. But more of that later.

I should warn you right now that I don't remember large chunks of it. However, that's ok, since nothing really happens anyway. There are a lot of random happenings, random dialogue, random everything, which in the end add up to nothing much. Except randomness.

On to the plot. Norman stars, as I said. He plays a film director who is going to run for president. Some people in plaid short-sleeve shirts sit around a kitchen table, drinking ice tea, and worry about this. They look like my brothers-in-law. Maybe yours too. Apparently, Norman has a huge influence on someone (the youth of America, maybe), and that threatens the Power Structure, or the CIA, or the Order Of Things As They Should Be, or something. It certainly threatens the guys in plaid shirts. They're worried about Norman. They discuss how bad it is that he is going to run for President and how this could shake everything up.

While they discuss Norman, we have intercuts with Norman boxing with some friend of his. The lead plaid shirt guy says, "He is known to enjoy love in the Greek way." We get a shot of Norman boxing with said friend, and he mutters, "Why don' ya love me no more?" to said friend. The subject never comes up again.

Eventually, we leave the guys in plaid shirts and they disappear from the movie. The next bit is some sort of party or meeting or open house or something at Norman's big estate. Lots of people wander around. Some associate of Norman offers the use of Norman's house to some Black Panthers and says, "You boys could really use this," and the Panther says, with contempt, "If we did this, would we be men?" A woman shows up, looking for her son. She takes her clothes off and wades into a swimming pool. Sorry guys, even though she's attractive, this film makes nudity boring.

People wander around a lot more. Norman, his wife, and Rip Torn wander aimlessly around the grounds. If this sounds boring, well, it is.

Suddenly, in the only interesting bit in the film, Rip Torn suddenly attacks Norman with a rubber hatchet. From what I've read, this was completely spontaneous and caught everyone off guard. Norman and his wife spend the rest of the film telling Rip Torn what a jerk he is and trying to get away from him. Rip Torn, on the other hand, has this huge grin on his face as he tries to argue that he's improved the film. It's the kind of grin you see on people who thought they were doing something funny and it completely backfired.

Anyway, this argument takes up the rest of the movie, basically. Except for the final shot, which is a rather murky sunset. We roll back and see we are looking over Norman's shoulder. Then the credits run. I still feel AFI should have given me a button or a T-shirt that said, "I sat all the way through Maidstone."

To paraphrase Criswell, we are all interested in bad movies -- that is why we are here. But there are bad movies, and there are bad movies. "Sinbad of the Seven Seas" is bad, but it is incredibly entertaining. The same can be said of "Plan 9 from Outer Space," "Robot Monster," and "Cat Women of the Moon" (which I got to see together on a triple bill).

But Maidstone is just terrible. There isn't anything entertaining about it at all -- I certainly hope I haven't inspired anyone to seek it out. I can think of only one reason why this was made -- no, not an ego trip for Norman Mailer, who's got one as big as all outdoors from what I hear -- no, I think it was made out of spite.

I think some filmmaker friends of Norman stayed at his house and made a mess or otherwise bugged him. And he got really, really ticked off at them. So when they were out shopping at flea markets for props, he took their cameras and film and shot it, every last frame, just so they would learn their lesson and clean up after themselves or be more respectful or maybe just leave.

That's the only theory that makes sense.

Rating: one turkey. I'd rather it was no turkeys at all, but I think that's not allowed.