It's that time of year again — the quality of new motion picture releases has been progressively dropping, and it's about to hit the low point.

There are so many reasons to dread the arrival of February: It's one of Michigan's coldest winter months; it's home to Valentine's Day, which is sure to irritate you or drain your wallet; and it's the unofficial release of all-the-movies-that-suck month.

Think about it. During December there are so many good movies in theaters. I always want to see at least half of everything showing, but I don't have the money or the time. I end up missing movies I long to watch.

I have the opposite problem during the end of January and into February. I want to be a good consumer, but there is little to see that's worth the ticket price.

I'm in a dilemma because I love going to the movies. Imagine if by some cruel trick of fate your favorite activity was soured for you.

It seems as if all the big studios use February as a dumping ground for their worst movies. I think it's because the awards season is well underway, so the nominations for the Oscars have basically been made already. By the time February is upon us it's too late to pick up any Golden Globe or Screen Actors Guild awards.

It appears that the studios have a formula. They release all their good movies in a group, then drop the bad ones at once so there is no competition. This increases the chance that their predictable, shallow motion picture flops might garner some profit.

The good movies start appearing again in April and increase in density until the climax of great cinema in December when most people have time off for the holidays, and families are desperate for something to do together. Then begins the slow decline, and we are now in the worst of it.

So what do we have to look forward to: formulaic, predictable dramas in which the protagonist comes from a tough background and manages to succeed in the face of adversity. You don't really need to watch it to know what will happen, and sitting through the forced emotion might be painful. I'm thinking "Annapolis," which opens this weekend in the area, will fall into this category.

Then there are the comedies that rely on racial stereotypes and guys getting kicked in the balls for laughs. I'm picking "Big Momma's House 2", also opening in East Lansing this weekend, for the dumbest comedy of all time.

Sure, they're not all bad movies, but it's difficult to navigate through the jungle of terrible acting and unconvincing story lines.

Most of the potentially good films coming out are all limited-release. That means when you live in East Lansing — or most places that aren't New York City or Los Angeles — these movies just aren't an option. Now, I know I could probably catch a few in Ann Arbor or Royal Oak, but I don't have time to drive there.

I'm a poor, busy college student who loves movies. What am I supposed to do? I could beg the East Lansing City Council to bribe some businessperson to open an art theater on Grand River Avenue, but that doesn't seem like a viable option.

Why do the studios do this to us? I don't know if it's an unwritten rule or if Hollywood has a secret constitution. I mean, I know it's after awards season, and I know it's hard to get people to go see "The Ringer" if they can go see "The Chronicles of Narnia" instead. But why bother putting out such obvious scars on the face of cinema?

I feel like it has to become clear sometime in the process that the movie you are creating is not going to be good. It hurts my heart to think that movie studios have a secret pact in which they all make crappy movies on a low budget and release them at the same time in order to increase profits a little.

Movies have strayed from their original purpose. A motion picture is supposed to be a work of art. Movies are just about the only thing Americans have left that the rest of the world hasn't managed to imitate and make better.

Maybe I can convince President Bush to put bad movies on the list of things dangerous to our country. In February the terror alert will be yellow for "elevated" due to our lowered quality of output. Maybe then those Hollywood elite will change their ways.

Or maybe not. I guess I'll be taking in older movies at Wells Hall to get my big-screen fix. I might even have to break down and get a Blockbuster membership.

Alessa Thomas is the State News film reporter. Reach her at thoma470@msu.edu.