Sacred Cows.

I love playing Sacred Cows (a game wherein you go around the table [or bar or whatves] and announce your utter contempt for something that is considered perfection. For instance: I wouldn't mind if the negative to The Graduate was consumed by fire.*)
Those funny old Brits at The Guardian are having a go at it (albeit minus the Sacred Cows brand). I think this blurb, from one Charlie Brooker, is my favorite (mainly 'cause it's so insanely British and because he's taking down one of my personal favorites):
The Royal Tenenbaums: "There wasn't a single character I could relate to or even feel faintly curious about - and worse than that, no proper jokes, just the sort of wry non-funnies that ponces pretend to find deeply amusing in the theatre."

Oh those theatre-prone ponces.

*= Side note: I think the greatest round of Sacred Cows I ever witnessed was when my friend Fraser went really sacred. Usually, people just name random beloved films or revered bands, etc. When it came to Fraser he announced: Othello by William Shakespeare. He then calmly explained how Iago was one of the most poorly written characters the Bard ever created and how the play as a whole was a giant turd. Taking down The Bard... that's balls, my friends.