The Unintentional Comedy Showdown of the Century

Ladies and gentlemen, it is happening! Oh my god . . .I always knew this would happen, and now its happening! It is luck, fortune, an extensive branch of James Gleick's chaos theory, a variation the Butterfly Effect (not the "Ashton Kutcher is all grown up now with the fat guy from Boy Meets World movie, the actual entitiy itself) the workings of the steady hands of a divine force, the manipulation of intergalactical humanoids micromanaging the human population like an eight year old with an ant farm, or is it pure HAPPENstance? You must be postively brimming with the tingly sensation that curiousity (not to be confused with dental drugs) brings at this point and wondering, in a spastic fit of curiousity potent enough to kill not only one cat but the entire feline sector of the Animal Kingdom, what exactly is happening? What's happening, as signified by the yearly passage of the boom-or-bust early May superhero action extravaganza (Iron Man, by the way was a boom, on the passage of the 1 year anniversary of the bust to climactically end all busts, Spider Man 3 "How's the pie?" Really fucking terrible, actually), is that the summer movie season, aka The Time When Literally Everything We Have The Privelege Of Fixating Our Eyes Upon Is the MOVIE EVENT OF THE SUMMER, is upon us. And it feels good. Too good, maybe. I'm starting to get that funny sensation that I haven't gotten since Cloverfield came out. And I mean that in a good way, compared with the mental chlamydia that I got from seeing Transformers last year. This year, I will be avidly chronicling the summer movie phenomenon with the zest and passion of . . .a guy with absolutely nothing better to with his spare time. These chronicles will come not in the form of a talking lion and a pubescent prince, but in the form of a series of Showdowns that will determine the Ultimate Winner of the summer.
With much futher ado about nothing:
Showdown 1: The Unintentional Comedy Duel

The question is: What exactly is happening in "The Happening?"
Well, though I know that M. Night Shaymalan is a crafty guy, I think I've been able to pinpoint the happenings in this modern day horror classic to be:
-Poor career moves: Marky Mark Wahlberg . . .why? You were on a roll! You dazzled us with your Lee Harvey Oswald level sniping skills in "Shooter," you came out as king of the hill and basically killed the last living main character in "The Departed," you brought us to tears in "Invicible" . . .and now this? Really? What kind of state of mind were you in where you thought that doing anything with M. Night Shaymalan was a good idea? Are you short on cash? Did you make a bet with Bruce Willis? Do you really have three nipples? Either way, let's hope you are really good in Max Payne later this year, or a lot of embarrassment will be Happening over the next few months.
-Furrowed eyebrows: "What's going on?! You can't just leave us here!" (Furrows eyebrows) "Sir . . .we've lost connection." (Furrows eyebrows) "With who?" (Furrows eyebrows) "Everyone . . ."(Furrows eyebrows.) Apparently, in M. Night Shaymalan's alternate reality of magical movie prowess, acting=eyebrow movements. Based on this small, two minute and fifteen sample clip, at least 10,500 creased foreheads and 21,000 eyebrows will pop up during the movies super-intense scenes of distress and confusion. Which is every scene, by the way. M. Night Shaymalan never takes his foot off the gas of the Horrormobile.
-An event: As stated from the trailer, itself, "There appears to be an event happening." Well, even that's a step up from "The Village."
-Loss of speech, physical disorientation, DEATH!: Wait, is this the deadly airborne disease waging war against Marky Mark and the Eyebrows of Profound Emotion, or are these symptoms of spending more than 5 minutes watching "Lady In the Water"? I'm confused . . .(Furrowd eyebrows).
-Strange whoosing noises: Nothing says "fear, shock, abject terror!" more than amplified sounds of sweatpants flapping in the breeze.
-A twist: Would we expect anything less for old M. Night? Ever since raging success of the whole "Bruce Willis was dead all along" thing, M.'s got in his head that the formula for a classic horror movie is "Get them thinking one thing for an incredibly boring hour and a half, then bring in a space vampire in the last five minutes and all of the sudden its genius." I think I may be a step ahead this time, though. An inside source tells me (SPOILER ALERT!) . . .nah, that would just be too cruel. But I'll give you a hint: IT ISN'T WHAT YOU THINK!
-Lots of unintentional comedy: The more seriously you take yourself, M. Night, the more we laugh at you, not with you. So please, step down from your high horse in Cinematic Geniusland and just take a good hard look at yourself. You might like what you seen . . .or you might find out that YOU WERE A WEREWOLF ALL ALONG! OH CRAP!

Let's look beyond the fact that "Bangkok Dangerous" sounds like a suitable title for the single most graphic Asian gay pornography of all time (not that I would know anything about that.) That, in all likelihood, is intentional comedy. We really needn't look any further than the fact that the Wicker Man himself, Nicholas Cage, the be all and end all of unintentional comedy in the form of epic failure, is headlining this thing. Honestly, what more do we need to know other than the fact that it involves Nicholas Cage engaging in a number of unintentionally hilarious acts, such as;
1. Sniping people from rooftops
2. Speaking in a weirdly accurate Asian tongue
3. Going to Asian boxing matches and strip clubs
4. Riding a motorcycle for the first time since Ghostrider (the worst superhero movie other than Catwoman, which I think may have been written and directed by a masturbating 12 year old boy)
5. Making ominous threats such as "If I see your people again, I'll kill you."
6. Flashing that winning smile after gut-busting one liners such as "What is your work? Banking."
7. Just existing. Honestly Nicholas Cage, that is all we ask of you. It's like Gordo wrote in Lizzie's yearbook on the season finale of Lizzie McGuire circa 2002: "Never change. I mean that." Never change, Nicholas Cage. Never change.
The winner obviously, cannot yet be declared. All that be guaranteed is that at some point in this year, you will grimace, you will furrow your eyebrows, you will have your capacity to think blown to shrapnel by M. Night Shaymalan's genius, you will fear Nicholas Cage and the spooky sounds of a heavy gust of wind . . .and you will laugh.