We are some fucked up people, yo.

I mean, believe me, I totally see the appeal in the universe breaking LA off the coast and hiding it 4,000 feet under the sea, like the afikomen of God that will never be cashed in and found, because—sorry, LA—it's LA. Though apparently some people got teary during the part when the Kogi Truck gets swallowed up by an acid-spewing mutant volcano, so I guess it's a complicated emotion. But why are we so desperate to see what the end looks like? Because we're sadists? Masochists? Because we'd like to imagine a world in which only we exist and everything else just doesn't? [Related: Welcome to Lower Manhattan.] Because we want it all to just be totally fucked and end, and we want a hand in it, like that kid who spends five hours building a beautiful sand castle only to "Godzilla" it out of existence for six seconds?

Or because it looks sick? Which apparently, it did. To the tune of $225M.

The 162-minute disaster epic...blew away the competition and took in $65 million in North America in its opening weekend and $160 million worldwide. All totaled, the Roland Emmerich movie, which cost $200 million to make (and tens of millions more to market) grossed $225 million.

That's gotta be it. When the world ends, it's not like we're going to be able to watch it being so awesome. Also, we're all gonna die and it's gonna be crazy but, like, will it really look that cool? Hell to the no, BobbyBrown! It'll probably look like The Road or something. Gray and stupid and dusty and boring. But that's life, you know? Less Roland Emmerich, more Cormac McCarthy. Besides, only in Fakeland can anybody give a shit about Amanda Peet living through the end of the world. OH COME ON.

And then there's this Precious movie. The critics HATED it. Like this one:

Not since The Birth of a Nation has a mainstream movie demeaned the idea of black American life as much as Precious. Full of brazenly racist clichés (Precious steals and eats an entire bucket of fried chicken), it is a sociological horror show.

Ha, oh, just joking, that's batshit Armond White from the New York Press. This guy eats the innocence of children for breakfast and snacks on Labrador puppies for lunch. Also, he hated Up. But! Precious, which is a "the world sucks" movie of a different stripe, did well, too. Look:

The indie movie "Precious," which Lionsgate bought at Sundance, took in about $6.1 million in just 174 theaters in nine cities. That's an impressive $35,000 per-screen average.

Now, granted: 2012 was on about 40 bazillion more screens, but seriously, compared to the other top per-theater take ($19,095 for 2012), it's a pretty incredible number, and a 200% increase from last week's Precious take. That 200% number is not a joke.

Lesson, learned. It goes something like this: when I make my autobiographical epic, I Hope They Smoke Adderall In Hogwarts, I'm going to make sure to append the words "Tyler Perry and Oprah Winfrey Present." If only real-Hollywood were so smart. Dumbasses. Imagine if they did that to 2012. They would've made enough money to destroy the world for reals. Until then, we have LA's fake-comeuppance to go see again and again and again. Basically, yes:

[Photo of The Great Alderaan Explosion of '77: "Complicated Feelings," Mixed Media, provided by the artist.]

Amanda Peet: Even a Neil Simon script and eye candy provided in the form of Patrick Wilson couldn’t save Peet’s 2006 role in Barefoot In The Park from critical ridicule and a very brief run. The NY Times equated the theatergoer’s experience to watching paint dry, and said of her performance: "She's trying, really hard, to be funny and freewheeling, but it hurts.” Ouch.

Kathleen Turner: You would think no one could dare attempt to reincarnate The Graduate's Mrs. Robinson other than Nicolas Cage defamer Kathleen Turner. The husky voice, the stiff hair, the scent of desperation — all right up Turner’s alley. Sadly, the dame spent most of her off-stage time downing vodka and passing out on the theater’s bathroom floor. Watching Luke Perry fondle the elderly is painful enough — watching him fondle the elderly and unconscious? Impossible.

Denzel Washington: Denzel’s 2005 appearance as Julius Caesar wasn’t a flop per se, but, as is the case with too many of his movies, making a whole bunch of money does not a success make. Fanfare ensured the limited run filled seats, but reviews handily laid out the Unwelcome Mat for the unimpressive star on the Great White Way.

David Schwimmer: The NYT struck again, ripping to shreds Schwimmer’s attempt to erase Ross Gellar from our scarred memories by making his Broadway debut in a heavy military revival. Labeled a bland “pouty puppy,” Schwimmer didn’t let the swift exit of The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial deter him from killing off The Producers opposite the wildly high-regarded vocal talents of Larry David.

Julia Roberts: When being called a “lamppost” is the highlight of your critical fallout, you know it’s time to tidy up the stage and quickly put your total failure of a Broadway debut to bed. But not Julia Roberts! “Hated” by reviewers, unable to sell tickets for half of their going rate, Roberts’ blindingly bright star power dimmed considerably for what felt like the first time after boldly starring in Three Days Of Rain.

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