14 Sequels That Truly Didn't Need To Happen

As Benjamin Franklin might have said, if he had witnessed the rise and continued growth of modern cinema, "Nothing is certain but death and taxes. And that most movies, if they make a reasonable profit, will get sequels whether they need one or not."

Anachronistic Ben Franklin has it spot on. Hefty profits can magically transform the most standalone and self-contained movies into a trilogy, tetralogy, or worse. We have proof. Some of the films on this list are completely unnecessary — they were clearly made to satisfy shareholders, not because a cinema audience was clamoring for them. Some are here because, frankly, they're so bad that they shouldn't exist at all, sequel or not.

And there's certainly no shortage of potential candidates for this list. In fact, in many cases, the films listed here are where things started going wrong, kicking off a string of even more unnecessary sequels and completely depleting the audiences' goodwill. So, with the bare minimum of ado, here are 14 sequels that simply didn't need to happen.

I have nothing against "The Matrix" sequels, per se — they're fun, entertaining movies with memorable set pieces — and will even admit to having my interest piqued by "The Matrix: Resurrections." My issue is how unnecessary they are.

Take the end of "The Matrix." Neo is in possession of all of the cheat codes. He has the ability to see the Matrix for what it is — a now decipherable construct of code — and the ability to manipulate it at will. He defeats Agent Smith with ease, promises the machines that their end is nigh, and flies away. Cue Rage Against the Machine and the end credits. Neo was the One, and is now effectively a god. He can crack the Matrix wide open. Victory can be safely assumed.

So why do we need both "Reloaded" and "Revolutions?" I have no doubt that the Wachowskis made "The Matrix" with an eye towards a trilogy, but no one could have predicted how popular the first movie would become. "The Matrix" is a perfectly formed standalone film, self-contained because that's the only way a studio would make it, with unnecessary sequels thrust upon it thanks to the original's runaway success. Neo may be the One, but Hollywood wouldn't let this movie follow suit.

The original "American Psycho" is a smart, wry satire of the '80's lifestyle, and a look at how everything, including human life itself, is devalued and commoditized to the wealthy. The Mila Kunis-starring sequel, "American Psycho 2: All American Girl," is 88 minutes you will never get back. It will make you long for the cold, blessed relief of death.

The story — an ambitious criminology student is willing to kill for continued success — wasn't even written as a sequel to "American Psycho," and only had its tenuous links to the original added after the first movie's success. Even Kunis, who has subsequently proven herself much better than this shoddy material, thought it a different project until it was edited and released. Patrick Bateman only appears in the film's introduction, as a poor body double filmed from behind. Even the appearance of William Shatner, who seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself, can't redeem it.

There was an interesting fan theory circling around the time of the 40th anniversary of "Grease" that Sandy (Olivia Newton-John) was dying the whole movie — she drowned on that summer night with Danny ("She swam by me, she got a cramp"), and the whole film is a coma hallucination. When Greased Lightning (automatic, systematic, and hydromatic, incidentally) ascends to the heavens with Sandy riding shotgun, it's doing just that, Sandy's spirit having passed on.

I'm inclined to believe that theistic take on the classic movie, because "Grease 2" is some kind of hell, or at least an awfully specific flavor of purgatory. It's a dreadful limbo realm where actors in their mid-20s and early 30s pretend to be teenagers singing awful, unmemorable songs while wearing '80s hair and fashions, even though they're pretending it's the '50s. It's a retread of the first film but with even fewer stakes, and none of the charm. This is not the one that I want, ooh, ooh, ooh, honey.

1994's "The Mask" was an above-average comic book adaptation elevated to excellence by both Cameron Diaz's big debut and Jim Carrey's over-the-top performance, which conjured up memories of Michael Keaton's excellent portrayal of Beetlejuice. But where the original felt like a live-action Tex Avery cartoon, with Jim Carrey leaving no piece of scenery unchewed, "Son of the Mask" is a lackluster movie that replaces coherent plot and characterization with endless CGI. 

It's not clear who the intended audience for "Son of the Mask" is. It's not clever or deep enough to hold the attention of the average adult, and it's too vulgar and confusing for kids. Alan Cummings and Bob Hoskins? You're better than this, lads. "The Son of the Mask" is the cinematic equivalent of a fever dream — you'll be glad when it's finally all over, and will wonder if you imagined at least half of it. Sadly, you did not.

When the 1990 Leslie Nielsen comedy "Repossessed" is both a better movie and a more serious sequel to "The Exorcist," then something, somewhere, has gone terribly, terribly wrong. 

Here, Richard Burton (who must have wondered what possessed him to take the role) stars as Father Lamont, an experienced priest who, having learned that the demon Pazuzu had possessed another child before Regan MacNeil, travels to Africa to find the truth. The writer and director of the original movie — William Peter Blatty and William Friedkin, respectively — are absent and sorely missed, but a man of John Boorman's stature ("Deliverance," "Excalibur") should have been a more than adequate replacement. "Exorcist 2" also has a stellar cast, and a soundtrack by Ennio Morricone.

So, where did it all go bad? "Exorcist 2" barely feels like a sequel to "The Exorcist" at all — at times, it's so dull and incomprehensible that it doesn't even feel like it belongs in the same genre. The power of Christ compels you to avoid this turkey at all costs ("Exorcist 3: Legion", however, more than makes up for this accursed nonsense).

After 1986's "Police Academy 3: Back in Training," the entire writing team behind the franchise was replaced by a Commodore 64 running a random plot generator. That's entirely speculative, of course, but it's the only way that I can logically account for "Police Academy 4: Citizens on Patrol" and its three sequels. The fourth instalment in the saga of bumbling police officers isn't the worst that the franchise has to offer, but it's clearly where the rot started.

For example, the Commodore 64 decided that this film would have the police commander create a plan to make everyday citizens work alongside police officers. Naturally, our hapless bunch of rejects are picked for the scheme. Hilarity ostensibly ensues, although honestly, nothing here is particularly funny. Even Steve Guttenberg bailed after this instalment, and he went on to star in a movie called "Lavalantula," for goodness' sake.

Not including "Troll 2" here would be akin to excluding "Pet Sounds" from a list of the best albums of all time. Putting it here is almost a reflex. However, I propose that "Troll 2" has dropped so far through the bottom of this list that it has somehow re-emerged gleaming at the top. When humanity is finally gone from the Earth, future travelers to this gleaming blue pearl may come across a copy of "Troll 2," and it will be considered as one of mankind's greatest achievements, up there with mastering flight, domesticating fire, and the invention of the spork.

They'll wonder how, with a budget of twenty-three dollars and two buttons, a cast of people who I'll generously refer to as actors, and a script seemingly written by throwing lines around a room, a work of such dazzling majesty was created. A film that's so bad that it's so good — and that comes around full circle to bad again. "Troll 2" is the film that "Plan 9 from Outer Space" wants to be.