Every group of friends has a Movie Nazi. You know this person: they buy the tickets a day in advance; they send the email two weeks beforehand, organizing everyone; they insist you get there at least a half hour early so you can get the best seats. You grumble, but in the end you are grateful for the Movie Nazi, especially when the movie event in question is at the Cinespia outdoor film series at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. Follow along as we break down an evening spent with thousands of our closest friends for a screening of the '60s camp classic Barbarella. Our very organized movie maven—we'll call her Ines—insisted on a carpool and meet up at her house in Venice at 6 p.m. sharp. This, despite the fact that the movie itself started at 8:30. She had prepared at least a half dozen salads, and her friends brought another 10 dishes. By the time we piled the food into the car, you would have thought we were going camping for 10 days, not going to a two-hour movie. But, as we were soon to understand, sustenance is key. The line to drive into the cemetery was already blocking traffic at 7. The suckers on foot were snaked around like they were waiting for a Disneyland ride. And we were the first ones in. We walked past some pretty groovy graves that made me reconsider getting a burial plot when that day is upon me. Once inside, it was like a hipster parade—otherwise known as a fashion show. It was as if everyone under 29 and in possession of Samantha Ronson-esque fedoras had been lured to one place at the same time. We were all there to witness the wonder that is Barbarella; the 1960s version of a so-bad-it's-good-movie, rivaled only during our time by Showgirls. During the hour and half run up to the movie itself, everyone gorged themselves on their picnics (and I assure you, we had the best spread), and the air quickly filled with a fragrant smell that was not incense. DJ Jun spun tunes appropriate to the era—we heard "Walk on the Wild Side"—as the screen flashed old movie posters featuring Audrey Hepburn and Bridget Bardot. The Fonda images scrolled by, and the one of her in her '80s workout gear got the biggest response. Having never seen Barbarella, I was shocked at the burlesque-like opening sequence where Fonda strips out of her space suit. I was also very jealous of her flat stomach and her perky breasts, but that is a conversation for another time. Watching a movie such as this with a few hundred, or thousand, of your closest non-friends is especially fun. During her first conquest (I counted four, if you include the sex machine at the end) with the hairy guy, wolf whistles and shouts abounded. The entire thing is so amazing from start to finish, you can't believe it actually got made. And I was horrified to learn that they are planning on remaking it with Robert Rodriguez as the director and Rose McGowan in the lead (that is, until they supposedly broke up in July). Though McGowan insists that she's not been replaced, other names like Kate Beckinsale, Sienna Miller, and—just shoot me—Jessica Alba, have been mentioned. The Movie Nazi thought that if such a perfect movie must be tinkered with, it must feature Lindsay Lohan. C'mon, you know you wanna see that. I'll end by quoting Barbarella's commander when he tells her—as she stands before the prompter taking orders naked—"Thank you and love. One day we must meet in the flesh." Next week: OMG! Super hot Jake in Sixteen Candles.