Independence Day: Resurgence is the single worst movie I have ever seen in my entire life, and the only reason I’m mad about it being a flop is because this means I have no one to talk through the pain with.
“But Libby,” you might say, wise reader that you are. “You knew it was going to be stupid. Why did you go see it?”
The same reason everyone goes to the movies in the summer: Air conditioning.
You see, it’s about 700 degrees in the second floor walk-up apartment Ian & I call home, with 200 percent humidity, and that’s with two fans running. It is too hot to eat. Too muggy to sleep. There was one escape, and that was to the movies.
You must understand one thing about me–I LOVE Independence Day because I love Bill Pullman, Jeff Goldblum and the 4th of July. Before work got in the way, we used to have extravagant 4th of July parties, with Fizzball, a potluck dinner and an annual viewing of the film (with Rifftrax, obviously). I gave President Whitmore’s iconic speech at my friend Eeon’s wedding and he gave it at mine.