I clearly remember the first time I saw the Nicolas Cage remake of “The Wicker Man”. I was at my neighbor’s place and had convinced him to give it a shot because I had heard that it was one of the worst movies ever made. We weren’t disappointed. We were treated to some of the worst over-acting ever committed to film, a plot so absurd it involved Nicolas Cage punching out an elderly woman while dressed up as a bear and the only death scene I’ve ever seen that involved an Abraham Lincoln-esque beard of bees. Sure, it was abjectly terrible, but my God was it funny. Problem is, it hooked me.