Rubber

This homage to “No Reason,” referenced here as the most powerful element of style in great movies, turns what could have been a fun or frightening or both midnight movie idea (a car tire comes to life in the rural Southwest and uses its psychokinetic powers to explode small animals and human heads with Scanners-like efficiency) and runs it into the ground. Combining horror-splat, Theatre of the Absurd, a Greek chorus and film-within-a-film elements, this self-referential black-comedy wants us to join a gaggle of lamely yakking people of assorted demographics as they watch all the aforementioned action through binoculars from a desert knoll. The resulting commentary on voyeurism and the essence of filmmaking commits an unpardonable cinematic sin: it all becomes quite boring very fast.