Bad-movie lovers tend to be strict auteurists, following the careers of directors like Uwe Boll, Tommy Wiseau or Michael Bay from one catastrophe to another. Once again, however, screenwriters get short shrift, and anyone focusing on the director’s chair will be missing out on the work of Allan Loeb, a writer who has, in the course of one year, delivered a trifecta of utterly artificial fake-deep dramas that are must-sees for connoisseurs of the cinema’s best-worst.
December gave us Loeb’s “Collateral Beauty,” in which Will Smith stacked dominoes, argued with Time and Death, and tried to find deep meaning in the film’s clunky title.