Eight years ago this month, I started writing “Captain Canada’s Movie Rodeo” at Drunk Monkeys. It was a gig I was genuinely excited to get. Thanks to wrestling magazines and other entities, I grew up with a weird desire to be a columnist. I wanted to do other things as a writer, but that was one of the big ones. I tried a handful of times to get one going. The idea of just doing a blog, which I eventually tried, didn’t appeal to me. I liked the idea of a standing engagement with a website or publication I respected.

Drunk Monkeys fit all the necessary criteria. It still does, although there has been a handful of staff changes over the years. I was Film Editor at one point. Two others have held the job since. Currently, Sean Woodard helps me get this column ready every month. Besides being one of my favorite opinions to discern about any given movie, he’s also a wonderful, deeply knowledgeable writer and editor.

Things change. This column has remained largely the same. When I started, I decided to review only movies I had seen from the point of when the column began. That’s why there’s a very long list of films that will almost certainly never wind up here. I needed to have baseline to work from, and starting from whichever movies I had seen recently, prior to writing the first column, was what made sense to me. That’s still how I’m going about it, although the list of movies I’ve seen since 2012 far outpaces the monthly rate at which these columns are put out.

In case you’re curious (because I do keep a list to consult for this column), I have seen approximately 2, 100 new (to me) films since March 2012. I guess that’s a lot. It’s easy to watch a lot of movies when you work from home.

What amazes me is that I’ve found the time to do other things. I had published zero books at the time of the first edition of “Captain Canada’s Movie Rodeo’ came out. I now have four, with a fifth coming out this year. I’ve been married for more than three years. I live in New York. I drink a little less than I used to. I added another monthly column, Make the Case. I have a Green Card.

Again, things change. Arguably, sometimes, for the better.

A quick glance through the first trip to my ridiculous little movie rodeo (whatever the hell that even means) shows that even the column itself has changed. I reviewed 10 movies in the beginning. I also tried to write two columns a month. I cut 10 down to five, and I only write the column once a month now. That works, since Drunk Monkeys releases monthly issues now.

Once more, things change. As I haven’t seen the movies reviewed in my first column since writing it—with the exception of Hugo—I thought taking a look at them again was the only thing that made sense for this anniversary of sorts. Has my opinion changed? Have I changed? Eight years is a long while from one viewing of a movie to the next.

And if you’ve found one, 10, or all 100 of these columns interesting, useful, or even banal, thank you. I’m always happy that people let me ramble in the first place. In this column or elsewhere.

That part hasn’t changed. As a writer, film fan, and human being, I’m amazed to even be here at all.

King of Marvin Gardens (1972): Then A+ | Now A+

This isn’t a huge surprise to me. Bob Rafelson’s best film as a director—that includes the iconic Five Easy Pieces—is like watching a beautiful, decidedly human train-wreck in slow motion. Nicholson’s restrained, almost repressed, performance provides a perfect counterpoint to Bruce Dern’s megalomania, which does not have the benefit of featuring an impressive number of followers. Or any, really, with the exception of a prostitute named Sally (Ellen Burstyn, yet again showing her talent for the doomed and the desperate) and her stepdaughter. King of Marvin Gardens can best be described as a bleak, grimy comedy that doubles down on the bleakness for the last half. If you’re okay with that, you need to see this.

Hugo (2011): Then A+ | Now B-

Perhaps, the repeated viewings through the years have worn down my initial enthusiasm. While I still love this story of a young boy (Asa Butterfield, who has certainly been on a weird career trajectory over the past decade) whose journey with a parting gift from his father leads to a series of remarkable, quietly magical adventures. Martin Scorsese making such a fresh, empathetic family movie remains impressive. Yet the movie drags a little more than it used to. Furthermore, no one screening of this movie for me has ever topped seeing it in a packed house at Richmond’s Byrd Theater. Silly, but true.

Yes Man (2008): Then C | Now D-

What struck me as an endearing effort to save a bad script now just annoys me to the point of inducing a mild stupor. If nothing else, recent projects like Sonic the Hedgehog and Showtime’s Kidding proved Jim Carrey still has the timing, range, and intensity to do virtually anything as an actor. However, he can only do so much, and Yes Man is one of the most frustrating examples of that.

Sucker Punch (2011): Then D- | Now D-

My experience watching Zack Snyder’s Sucker Punch after so many years was essentially the same experience I had over nine years ago. What sucked then, pretty as it might be sometimes—this is more in reference to the film’s action sequences and stylized visuals—sucks about the same now. The movie is visually breathtaking, shallow as a sarcastic concept of a grave, and hysterically pretentious. It’s good to see Snyder has remained consistent with those traits in subsequent releases.

The Rite (2011): Then D- | Now C+

“Anthony Hopkins channels some Max Von Sydow” I wrote back in 2012, no doubt thinking I was super-duper clever for thinking that. I don’t anymore. It reminds me of why I usually don’t step into the ol’ wayback machine in full view of the public. You can only flinch so many times, before inducing a stroke. At any rate, The Rite is still a bit too silly for my tastes, particularly in the dialog, but it has a better ensemble cast and atmosphere than I originally gave it credit for. That’s enough entertainment value to bump things up to a C+.

At this point, I’m halfway through the original column. I can definitely see why I eventually shaved this down from 10 movies per column to five. Two of these a month would have fried me.

Eagle vs. Shark (2007): Then C+ | Now C-

Taika Waititi has certainly been busy, between the point in which I reviewed the too-cute-for-its-own-damn-good Eagle vs. Shark, and the months following his 2020 Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar win. He reinvented Thor for the Marvel Cinematic Universe, arguably shifting the entire direction of the entire franchise. He co-wrote/directed/starred in one of the funniest horror movies in recent memory with What We Do in The Shadows. We’re still processing his Nazi satire and Hitler take with JoJo Rabbit. These things are more impressive than Eagle vs. Shark, which never seems to flesh out its peculiar characters, or really get started.

Reds (1981): Then A+ | Now B-

Experience sporadically counts for something. I’ve seen a couple thousand movies since finally watching Warren Beatty’s ambitious biopic of journalist John Reed. That added experience made it hard to shake the pretentiousness of Reds at times. There was still a lot to appreciate, particularly in Beatty’s performance, as well as Jack Nicholson as Eugene O’Neill. Beatty keeps your interest for much of this, which is an impressive enough achievement. However, you can’t convince me that Reds is not without significant and significantly ponderous moments that probably could have been left out.

Tony Takitani (2012): Then A+ | Now A+

2012 was roughly the start of my obsession with novelist and noted jazz enthusiast Haruki Murakami. Tony Takitani was my first experience with someone adapting his work. I was skeptical. Mostly because it just seemed like Murakami’s slow pace, which is noticeable even in his short stories, would be difficult to translate to screen. Director Jun Ichikawa proved me wrong with this thoughtful take on one of Murakami’s most unique works. Tony Takitani was a joy to revisit. It’s getting harder and harder these days to come back to movies.

Everything Must Go (2010): Then A | Now A+

A slight improvement between viewings. That actually surprised me. I expected to like this unique expansion of a very short story by Raymond Carver as much as I had the first time. Perhaps, it’s the string of commercial and critical failures Will Ferrell has had in the past ten years. Even in the recent, wretched Holmes & Watson, we are still talking about a strong, multifaceted comedic actor. I don’t know what it will take to jump-start Ferrell’s career, which seems rather far from this story of an alcoholic who deals with being kicked out of his home by holding a garage sale in the front yard. If anyone is due for a critical comeback, it’s him.

Raw Meat Death Line (1972): Then C- | Now B-

The whole point of “Captain Canada’s Movie Rodeo” was to have an ongoing conversation with others about the weird range of movies I go through. I’d like to think I’m pretty flexible in not only what I can watch, but in what I might enjoy. I’ll pat myself on the back just a tiny bit more by saying that I think I’ve gotten better in this regard. "Captain Canada" reflects that in a way that encourages me to keep watching and engaging movies and film history in as many different ways as possible. It’s fun, and I’ve written this column that it might be fun for others to read along, and contribute to the ongoing conversation, if they want. I guess that has turned out to be true.

As for Raw Meat (aka Death Line), it’s a ridiculous horror movie with Donald Pleasence and Christopher Lee squaring off against mutant cannibals eating people in the London Underground. You catch a movie like this in the right mood, and it’s better than just about anything in cinema. I wondered if Drunk Monkeys founder Matthew Guerrero, when he gave me the chance to do this column, would let me get as silly as I wanted to with this column. I’m floored, and forever grateful, that he did.

Gabriel Ricard writes, edits, and occasionally acts. His books Love and Quarters and Bondage Night are available through Moran Press, in addition to A Ludicrous Split (Alien Buddha Press) and Clouds of Hungry Dogs (Kleft Jaw Press). He is also a writer, performer, and producer with Belligerent Prom Queen Productions. He lives on a horrible place called Long Island.