Last night, I saw another campy gladiator movie. There was a real missed opportunity inasmuch as no character ever uttered the line "Sometimes, I really gladi-hate you." Last night, I had a dream, and in my dream I wrote a teen comedy set in a gladiatorial school. There was a surly North African gladiator one day away from freedom, a Spaniard with a murdered family, a one-handed Celt with something to prove, a female…

There are times I feel very sure that if I were to let a copy of Bring It On rest against a copy of But I'm A Cheerleader, some sort of lesbian osmosis will take place and I will be able to watch a version of this movie where Missy and Torrance make out in the last scene. That is how close Bring It On's subtext comes to text. (An aside: did you know that there are four…