A Fistful of Cult

REVIEW - Colombiana (2011)

2011-11-22T22:44:00.000-05:00

Colombiana

USA / France - 2011

Directed by - Olivier Megaton

Starring - Zoe Saldana, Jordi Mollà, Michael Vartan, Cliff Curtis

Color / 108 Min / Rated PG-13

I had mild hopes for Colombiana. It’s another revenger co-written by Luc Besson, whom I felt was on something of a renaissance with his quirky French action movies thanks to 2008's Taken and the surprisingly enjoyable From Paris with Love which came shortly after, but my hopes were dashed about three minutes into Colombiana when the completely absurd chase scene between a gang of hardened drug dealers and a 9-year old girl begins in earnest. The movie asks the viewer to accept that a little kid can not only outfox these hardened criminals armed with handguns and machine pistols, but that she can outrun them too, despite the fact that the crooks have vehicles. Were this film billed as a whimsical action-comedy, I’d happily buy into this fantasy, but this is essentially Nikita redux, told without so much as a hint of a tongue in cheek.

So yes, Zoe Saldana plays Cataleya Restrepo, the little girl all grown up who wants revenge on the drug lord and cronies who killed her mother and father. The resourceful girl makes her way to Chicago where her uncle Emilio (Cliff Curtis) and extended family live. Surprise, surprise -- uncle Emilio is also an underworld figure and trains Cataleya to become a top notch assassin. Yeah. Guess what? Cataleya gets her revenge.

Q: How can you fuck up a movie about a hot lady with a gun? A: Colombiana.

Let me talk about the few things that didn’t piss me off about this movie first, then we’ll get to the good stuff. At the top of the list is Cliff Curtis, the New Zealander who has portrayed pretty much every nationality but his own in the movies. He’s a tremendously underrated character actor who always seems to add a touch of class to whatever film he appears in. I also enjoy the work of Spanish actor Jordi Mollà, who plays the evil drug lord’s lieutenant here, more or less the same character you may have seen him play in the schlocky Bad Boys II. Through sheer screen presence and charisma, Mollà makes you pay attention to what is otherwise a cardboard cutout character. And finally, despite the fact that I more or less loathed the character of Cataleya (which I’ll get to in a sec), I do think Zoe Saldana has carved herself a niche as the next exotic beauty who can kick major ass in a blockbuster action movie (ala Michelle Rodriguez or Angelina Jolie) if she wants it.

Now that I’ve got that out of the way, I can spew venom on this stupid movie that takes itself way too seriously. Where to start? Let’s talk about the fact that our heroine is in fact a manipulative, selfish cunt who, in her mad pursuit for revenge, gets her entire family slaughtered and ruins the life of her tacked on love interest. That may sound like an extreme depiction on my part, but think about it: As the batshit crazy Cataleya assassinates yet another drug dealer to lure the kingpin out of hiding, uncle Emilio takes her aside and says something to the effect of “Hey! Stop it, goddammit! You’re going to get the rest of your family killed in retaliation for all this!”. He even warns her a second time, and still Cataleya continues going after the cartel. Sure enough, the criminals respond in kind by gunning down everyone Cataleya might have cared about - uncle Emilio… great aunt Jezebel… hell, even old grandpa Jimmy Jack Restrepo gets it.

The only surviving family Cataleya has after this wanton slaughter are her grandpa’s dogs. And what does she do with them? She hides them in a van which the kingpin conveniently selects as an escape vehicle at the film’s climax. Our super-smart hitwoman then implausibly yells out an attack command over a cell phone which prompts the dogs to maul Mr. Drug Dealer to death. Hee hee! Way to condemn those poor animals to death once the police find the car and have them put down, ya silly bitch.

This actually looks 100 times better than any stills I've seen of Anne Hathaway as Catwoman...

Michael Vartan is the aforementioned tacked on love interest, who has little to no chemistry with co-star Saldana. His brooding, artistic type character is arrested and interrogated by the FBI for associating with a wanted killer. Enter the hilariously miscast Lennie James as Agent Ross, the most useless, bumbling stooge of a law enforcement officer this side of Lieutenant Dangle. His initial scenes are cringe-worthy, not just because the Cockney actor can’t do an American accent to save his life, but also because Ross is utterly convinced his killer is a male when all the evidence says otherwise. He only makes a breakthrough in the case when a goddamn JANITOR passes by and comments on a clue Ross is looking at. I realize this is a failure in the script more than anything else, but if they were aiming for a token inept cop, they should have cast a stereotypical overweight, balding character actor in the role. What’s Dennis Franz doing these days?

I will concede that the action scenes are more than competently directed and the kinetics are there in all the right places, but it’s an exercise in futility when your audience doesn’t give a rat’s ass whether the heroine succeeds or fails. To put in perspective just how much I didn’t like this movie, I stopped it twice to watch other movies. Direct to video action movies. When I’d rather watch a d-list Roddy Piper flick over your big budget action movie, something is very wrong.

Also, I’m subtracting another 10,000 style points for throwing Johnny Cash’s cover of “Hurt” onto the end credits, because A.) the movie had nowhere near the kind of emotional depth to warrant such a song, and B.) didn’t we have enough movies and television shows trying to shoehorn that track into their projects circa 2003-2006? Personally, I think "Pretty Vacant" by the Sex Pistols would have been a more appropriate track to draw a curtain on this movie.

1.5 / 5

REVIEW - Hobo with a Shotgun (2011)

2011-11-10T02:23:00.000-05:00

Hobo with a Shotgun

Canada - 2011

Directed by - Jason Eisener

Starring - Rutger Hauer, Brian Downey, Molly Dunsworth, Gregory Smith

Color / 86 Min / NR

Hobo with a Shotgun. Now that is a refreshingly accurate title to a movie. Consider the flick that put Rutger Hauer on the radars of cult movie fans, Blade Runner. Such a sexy title for a movie, more memorable and marketable than the Phillip K. Dick novel it was based on, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. But when you stop to think about it, why the hell are the police bounty hunters called ’blade runners’ anyway? They don’t use swords or machetes to get the job done. And they’re not exactly running all the time, are they? Now see, in Hobo with a Shotgun, you get exactly what it says on the tin. You will see a hobo and he will most certainly obtain a shotgun at some point.

From there, it’s balls to the wall mayhem.

This film was trumpeted as another ‘return to grindhouse’. Indeed, the movie has its origins with the Grindhouse double feature by Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez, where it originally debuted as a fake trailer (along with Machete, also made into a real movie). Aesthetically speaking, Hobo does get a few things right in this regard. The placement of the title card just before an opening credits montage is pure 70’s gold, and portions of the original score were done by the incredible Giallos Flame (under the guise ‘Obsidian Orchestra’), a one-man band influenced by the likes of Goblin. But these sort of things, while surely pleasing to fans of the genre, aren’t necessarily all that makes a grindhouse flick what it is. The level of absurd ultraviolence and extreme tastelessness on display in Hobo pushes it much closer to Troma territory than simple Canuxploitation fare. If anything, Hobo director Jason Eisener owes more of a debt to Lloyd Kaufman than he does Tarantino or Rodriguez.

I don’t mean to say it’s a bad thing though. Just arm yourself with this knowledge beforehand and readjust your expectations accordingly. On the other hand, if you’re a gorehound, it won’t matter one jot what your stance on grindhouse or Troma is. You should get out of your goddamn chair and watch this movie right now. You’ll be in bloodstained bliss as you watch brains blown out, cocks shot off, and intestines splattered all over the streets. The director is merciless in sparing no one from the nastiest details.

Well... I thought it was amusing, dammit.

The plot sees the nameless Hobo (Rutger Hauer) arrive, by train naturally, at ‘Hope Town’ (complete with ‘SCUM’ spray painted over the welcome sign). The Hobo seems to think it’s a town like any other and starts his usual custom of collecting cans and such in order to scrape enough coin together to buy a used lawnmower. Turns out the poor guy just wants to start up his own lawn care company and cut grass for a living. Of course, Hope Town is anything but an ideal paradise. The crime rate is out of control, prostitutes and pushers and child molesters openly prowl the streets, there’s a creep videotaping bum fighting in a back alley, and a crime boss named The Drake (Brian Downey) runs the city with an iron fist with his two goofball sons Slick (Gregory Smith) and Ivan (Nick Bateman). At first, the Hobo is reluctant to get involved in any of this nonsense, that is until he witnesses Slick attempting to sexually assault Abby (Molly Dunsworth), a hooker with a heart of gold. It’s at this point that the Hobo snaps and turns ass kicking vigilante, but it’s not until he stumbles upon an attempted robbery at a pawn shop that he acquires a trusty Remington on the shelf and starts blowing criminal lowlifes away.

Amazingly, for a plot that sounds like it could be a sequel to a Double Dragon video game, there are traces of social commentary to be found. How much more moral decay can our society withstand? Is our situation already that dire? Won’t someone please think of the children? Okay, I made that last one up. But speaking of children, Hobo with a Shotgun is yet another gruesome splatter fest that manages to elude the ratings board in the US of A. So once again I say watch it with your young children. I’m sure the scene where the delightfully demented Slick and Ivan torch a school bus full of screaming kids won’t give them nightmares or anything (but grisliness aside, who didn‘t want to burn the cheese wagon at some point or another?).

Yep. That's definitely a hobo and that's definitely a shotgun in his hands.

Rutger Hauer is predictably awesome here. He’s looking less like a sexy Replicant and more like a burnt-out grandfather, but you still buy him in a badass role like this regardless. Towards the third-act he gives an impassioned speech to a room full of newborns in a hospital, making them cry about how shitty their lives are probably going to be, it's pure gangbusters. It’d be a surefire Oscar clip if the Oscars actually rated cool movies instead of coma inducing shit (Brett Ratner told me to say it). The rest of the cast have mixed performances, Brian Downey as The Drake is sometimes a bit too over the top for my tastes, but he has some hilarious one-liners that could have sunk the movie if mishandled, yet are managed with cheesy aplomb (“When life gives you razor blades, you make a baseball bat… with razor blades!” he gleefully says, before gutting a helpless prisoner with said bat). The brothers Drake (Gregory Smith and Nick Bateman) are equally cheesy and vile characters who get brutal and deserved comeuppance (and more hilarious one-liners). But young Molly Dunsworth as Abby is, well… she’s young. She has to give a similar toned impassioned speech as the Hobo’s to an angry mob at one point and it doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

If you set aside all the blood and guts, Hobo is actually quite visually appealing. Perhaps in an attempt to offset the bleakness of the story, the color of the film has been tinkered with to give it a super-saturated tone, making the film look like a comic book come to life. There's also some fantastic lightning in certain scenes -- the crimson of the hospital scene and the green neon glow of the city after dark are among many standout moments for the eye candy enthusiasts to enjoy.

Seriously, a F'N cricket bat? Why?!

One final note, I want to mention Grinder and Rip, otherwise known as 'The Plague', the armor-clad killers who show up late in the film and go on a merciless killing spree in order to get to the Hobo. These guys are fucking cool. Jason Eisener could easily make a spin-off or semi-sequel focusing squarely on the Plague kicking ass and taking names. And if you know about the secret ending that didn't make the final cut, you start to think perhaps something as crazy as a Plague movie could happen (if a fake trailer gets turned into a full-length, nothing is impossible).

4 / 5

REVIEW - Dr. No (1962)

2011-11-04T18:19:00.000-04:00

Dr. No

UK - 1962

Directed by - Terence Young

Starring - Sean Connery, Ursula Andress, Joseph Wiseman, Jack Lord

Color / 110 Min / Rated PG

“The scent and smoke and sweat of a casino are nauseating at three in the morning.” - Ian Fleming, Casino Royale (1953)

The opening line of Fleming’s first spy novel is ingeniously recreated by Terence Young in Dr. No, and serves as the introduction to one of the greatest adventure heroes in cinema history. Surrounded by rubbernecking would-be gamblers, the voluptuous vamp in red loses another hand of baccarat to the dark haired man across the table. She continues to play, despite the odds being firmly stacked against her. The man comments: "I admire your courage Miss..?"

"Trench, Sylvia Trench. And I admire your luck, Mr..?"

The man has a cigarette firmly in the corner of his rather cruel mouth. He finishes lighting it, then answers the woman in his own time, gently mocking her introduction.

“Bond, James Bond.”

(No caption necessary)

It is at this moment that an ominous electric guitar lick swells, a piece of music that would become synonymous with the James Bond character. The theme tune tells us everything we need to know - that the devil may care in the perfectly tailored suit has arrived. No matter the borderline camp dialogue. Nor that no person in their right mind knows what the hell is going on during a game of baccarat. The scene is held together by the aura of unflappable cool emanating from the paradoxically suave brute with the cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

While you typically don’t hear of Dr. No being bandied about in discussions concerning the best Bond movies, you rarely hear anyone say a bad word about it either. While there were certainly big-screen thrillers featuring elements of espionage before this, Dr. No was undoubtedly the progenitor of ’spymania’. This was the film that set the template for all the adventures to come for 007, and also launched dozens of imitators who would come and go throughout the rest of the 60’s and beyond. Many contemporaneous critics simply didn’t understand what the fuss was about, with one famously referring to Sean Connery as a "great, big, hairy marshmallow" who consistently looked like a blundering lout. Your average cinemagoer obviously thought different. Never had they seen an on-screen hero quite like James Bond. He was ruthless, witty, and charming; equally cavalier about sex as he was killing in cold blood. I can only imagine how the character must have scandalized audiences in ‘62 and ‘63, and yet at the same time they couldn’t get enough of him.

The plot of the film, which sees 007 sent on assignment to Jamaica to investigate the sudden disappearance of British operative Strangways and a possible connection to Cape Canaveral rocket launches being disrupted by radio jamming in the vicinity, is fairly faithful to Ian Fleming’s novel version of Dr. No, save for a few omissions that probably wouldn’t have worked out very well on-screen (Bond’s epic battle with a giant squid anyone?), and a few stylistic changes, most of them for the better. (Dr. No’s original cover story in the book was that he was running a guano quarry! That‘s just batshit crazy.) The criminal SPECTRE organization, who would return to taunt Bond in subsequent films, was a new addition added exclusively to the film. The semi-recurring character of CIA agent Felix Leiter (Jack Lord) was also plucked from Fleming’s novels and placed in the film despite originally playing no part in this particular story (and it shows in the film; Leiter really doesn‘t do anything of note). A cynic might be inclined to believe adding a popular American star to the cast was a means of gaining an ‘in’ with audiences in the States.

"East, West, just points of the compass, each as stupid as the other."

Joseph Wiseman is the original Bond villain here, and while I don’t particularly care for the silly makeup he was given to make him look half-Chinese, Dr. No is still a chilling, unpleasant sort of character with an almost believable Napoleonic psychosis. His cold and calculating banter with Bond in the dinner table scene is priceless (“That‘s a Dom Perignon ‘55, it would be a pity to break it.” Bond: “I prefer the ‘53 myself.”). Most fans seem to think No could have used a deranged or disfigured henchman in his employ to go up against Bond physically, and I agree, but the evil henchman device wouldn’t be mined until the next Bond film, From Russia With Love.

We can't talk about originals in Dr. No without mentioning the original 'Bond girl', Swiss beauty Ursula Andress as Honey Ryder (not quite as goofy a double entendre as Pussy Galore, but still proof that Fleming loved his juvenile gags). Unlike the masses, I don't share the opinion that Andress is the best of the Bond girls just because she was the first. The character just comes across as too much of a damsel in distress for me, which seems to clash with certain aspects of her backstory. For instance, I have a hard time buying the seemingly guileless Honey as a person who could put a poisonous black widow spider in a man's bed and then watch him die slowly over the next few days as revenge for raping her. Actually, that's... pretty fucking dark for a Bond film when you really think about it. Still, the lovely Andress made a huge impression on the impending sexual revolution of the 60's, no doubt about it. A lasting impression too. The bikini she wore has its own friggin Wikipedia page for crying out loud.

"Are you looking for shells too?"

Dr. No moves along at a pleasant pace, though I believe like most Bond films it’s a film of two halves. The first half which sees Bond given an assignment and then left to his own devices to slowly unravel the mystery, and then the second half when all hell typically breaks loose and many things explode. To me, the first half of the Bond formula is always best. While he is a trained killer, Bond is also an investigator, and his wry creeping about and initial verbal sparring with the villains is always a treat to sit back and enjoy. In this particular film we see 007 outwitting crooked chauffeurs, matching wits with a dubious professor (Anthony Dawson), and catching a nosy secretary cum enemy agent (Zena Marshall) in the act and charming his way into her bed before ruthlessly handing her over to the police while the afterglow has barely had time to subside. I’m not saying the film is bad once it reaches the second half, but by the time Bond finally does reach Crab Key island and Honey Ryder comes sauntering out of the sea wearing that notorious bikini the film goes well over the edge into Boys’ Own adventure story territory.

But at the end of the day, it all comes back to Sean Connery and how he would go on to define the role of 007. So much ink has already been used up in discussion of the James Bond series, particularly in the initial casting of the character. A number of potential candidates were offered the part or tested before Connery came along - among them big names of the day such as David Niven, Patrick McGoohan, James Mason, and Cary Grant (not to mention up-and-comers at the time like future Bulldog Drummond portrayer Richard Johnson). While any of those actors could have done a respectable job as Bond, the producers without question made the correct decision in gambling on the still relative unknown Sean Connery as their man. Terence Young deserves an equal share of the credit, as it was thanks to his tutelage that Connery flourished and became the suave Scot we came to know and love over the next forty years on the big screen (Zardoz notwithstanding). Young took Connery under his wing and showed him what it was like to live the playboy lifestyle, and Sean never looked back.

Dr. No is certainly worthwhile viewing if you've never seen it before, though if you're completely new to Bond I might suggest easing into some of the more well-known entries first and then coming back to Dr. No to see how it all began.

4 / 5

REVIEW - Boss Nigger (1975)

2011-11-01T20:58:00.000-04:00

Boss Nigger

USA - 1975

Directed by - Jack Arnold

Starring - Fred Williamson, D’Urville Martin, William Smith, R.G. Armstrong

Color / 87 Min / Rated PG

Fred Williamson is Boss, a no-nonsense gunslinger who earns a living with his partner Amos (D’Urville Martin) hunting down fugitives of justice. At the outset of the film, Boss and Amos have wrangled themselves an entire posse of dangerous outlaws. Pocketing the reward money, Boss thanks the gobsmacked local sheriff, informing him that he and Amos would stick around, but… “We’ve got us some more whities to catch.”

When I think ‘genre crossover’ I typically think of the usual suspects: action and comedy, horror and science fiction, porno and plumbers. Tried and true formulas that have proven to be successful over the years. One genre mash-up that doesn’t usually spring to mind is the melding of blaxploitation and westerns, but that’s exactly what happened in 1975’s Boss Nigger, a flick with a title so inflammatory it had to be renamed The Black Bounty Killer in the UK and simply Boss when it was finally issued on DVD.

Hammer-time, baby.

I hate to even do this. I’ve waffled back and forth a few times about whether I should include some form of disclaimer or not in the text of this review. Ultimately, I decided to go for it because it does tie in with what I want to say about this film. So… that being said, just in case there happens to be someone out there reading this who wants to get all politically correct on me for using hate speech - I personally find the term ‘nigger‘ deplorable, and I would never use it as part of my regular, everyday vernacular. Boss Nigger is the title of this movie. Period. If it makes it any easier for you to stomach, the film was conceived and written by its star Fred Williamson, an African-American himself who obviously never gave two shits about public sensitivity. Not that it completely excuses Mr. Williamson, but hey, you can take it up with him. Just know that he can still whip your ass at 70-some years of age.

But there’s the rub. The exploitative title of this movie is more memorable than the actual movie itself. Oh, it’s not a terrible flick by any means; I’d even cautiously recommend it to any big fans of Fred Williamson out there. “The Hammer” is almost always a joy to watch, and it’s really his charisma alone that keeps this thing going. Fred was cinema’s cool, badass motherfucker that could get us through a subpar movie long before we had any idea who this ‘Samuel L. Jackson’ dude was.

The 'black devils' collect their reward.

Boss Nigger would probably not be the most pleasing of films to western fans, regardless of how you feel about its blaxploitation roots. Outside of the main character and his nemesis, you’ve got an entire cast of stock characters you could find in any dime novel or hokey episode of Gunsmoke. The uptight, cigar chomping mayor, the honest and hardworking blacksmith, the nervous innkeeper always hiding under the bar, the town schoolteacher who seems to be the town’s puritanical pillar of morality, yadda, yadda, yadda. True, sometimes you can’t get away from these kind of ciphers, especially in a western, but it feels laid on very thick here, as if the casting company went to Tombstone, Arizona and grabbed the first period actors they saw after the 2:15 re-enactment of the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral.

Then again, you do want a bit of authenticity in a western, don’t you? I couldn’t help but snicker like the pedantic film nerd that I am at some of the silly anachronisms that slipped through the cracks in Boss Nigger. Some of the extras are wearing then-contemporary pairs of jeans as part of their costumes, which I find hilarious (thank goodness they weren’t bellbottom designs!). Boss also gets a beat-down at one point and has schoolteacher lady treat his broken ribs with a roll of athletic tape, which I’m willing to bet dollars to doughnuts didn’t exist in the 1800’s. Of all the anachronisms though, the score somehow manages to work despite being wildly out of place. I certainly didn’t expect to hear 70’s soul music in the middle of a friggin’ western, but there it is. It just feels right for this movie.

The babes predictably fawn all over the Hammer in this flick.

So it’s a less than effective western, but on the other side of the coin, Boss Nigger doesn’t really hold up all that well as a blaxploitation flick either. Some of the better films in the genre had deeper meaning to them, allegories for civil rights issues and race relations or even allusions to slavery. Here we just have two guys kicking ass, hustling for cash, and scandalizing the uptight white folk in the little frontier town for chuckles. One might argue Boss Nigger is about black people trying to make it in a white man’s world, but I think even that is stretching it a bit. Williamson and director Jack Arnold (Creature from the Black Lagoon) were making this as popcorn entertainment for the Saturday matinee crowd, pure and simple.

It sounds like I’m being too harsh on this film. Like I said, it has its moments: D’Urville Martin of Dolemite fame is fairly entertaining as the fat chick loving sidekick Amos, who despite his comedic leanings has to bail Boss out of trouble on more than one occasion. And William Smith turns in a predictably heelish performance as the raping, pillaging outlaw Jed Clayton, who really deserves the comeuppance headed his way. The ending is also worth mentioning; while not what I would call bleak, it is still pretty dark for a film that dwells mostly on the tongue in cheek side of the street.

A reasonably entertaining romp if you’re partial to drive-in movie fare. Just don’t expect the content in Boss Nigger to live up to its outrageous title.

2.5 / 5

REVIEW - Dracula Has Risen From the Grave (1968)

2011-10-26T23:35:00.000-04:00

Dracula Has Risen From the Grave

UK - 1968

Directed by - Freddie Francis

Starring - Christopher Lee, Rupert Davies, Veronica Carlson, Barry Andrews

Color / 92 Min / Rated G

No, that's not a misprint. This film is really rated G. How in the hell did this happen? Don't get me wrong, I realize Dracula Has Risen From the Grave isn’t exactly a grisly torture-porn flick or anything, but it does have enough fake blood and scary imagery to warrant *some* kind of advisory, doncha think? Apparently the reason for the G rating in the USA is due to the MPAA installing what we know now as the current G to NC-17 rating system. Many films that came out just prior to the new system were retroactively rated and, seeing as how horror and monster movies were thought of as ‘kid stuff’ at the time, Risen was awarded with a G.

So watch it with your young children today!

The third Dracula flick produced by Hammer Films, Risen follows on the heels of 1966’s Dracula: Prince of Darkness. A small, vaguely European village populated with cockney actors is still suffering from the lingering evil of Dracula (Christopher Lee). Despite his apparent destruction in the previous episode, Dracula’s castle casts a dark shadow over the village, bringing with it despair and misery. The villagers are so spooked they cannot bring themselves to attend mass at the local church after the blood drained body of a girl is found in the belfry, leaving the priest (Ewan Hooper) and his mute assistant (Norman Bacon) as the only attendees. When Ernest Mueller (Rupert Davies), the Monsignor from the nearby city of Kleinenberg, visits the village he is appalled by the situation and immediately sets out with the priest to perform an exorcism on the castle grounds. The trip is too arduous for the priest, who has to stop while the Monsignor continues on. While the Monsignor performs the ceremony, the dopey priest trips over a rock in the darkened night and gashes his head. His blood conveniently drips down toward a body neatly nestled inside a frozen stream in the mountain rocks…

Dry, itchy eyes? Try Clear Eyes. Wow.

Dracula immediately turns the priest into his thrall and heads back to his castle, only to discover that Mueller has placed a massive golden cross on the front door to ward off evil spirits. Instead of using his hundreds of years of collected wisdom and experience to have his new slave simply remove the cross, Dracula allows his bloodlust to get the better of him and embarks on a quest of revenge against the Monsignor, vowing to destroy Mueller’s entire family for the ‘defilement’ of Dracula’s home.

Back in Kleinenberg, the Monsignor’s comely niece Maria (Veronica Carlson) brings her boyfriend Paul (Barry Andrews) over for dinner to meet her family for the first time. Paul is a booksmart lad attempting to put some coppers away for a proper university education by working at the local tavern, but as clever as he is in academic matters, Paul manages to botch things with the Mueller family by admitting that he’s an atheist to uncle Ernest. As if this wasn’t a big enough wedge between Maria and Paul, a strange priest has come to stay at the tavern and bizarre things start happening to the young couple. Dracula has decided the key to his revenge is turning beautiful Maria into one of his kindred. Only then will his thirst be slaked.

The ‘quest for vengeance’ motif is nothing new to any Dracula film, but Risen’s center-stage love story helps give the feature a somewhat unique feel despite the usual trappings of a Victorian-era Hammer film (more on that in a moment). Paul’s atheism also gives the film something different, as in past vampire stories the various symbols of Christianity are employed to help defeat the ‘Satanic’ powers of the undead abomination. Prayers, crosses, or holy water won’t help Paul combat Dracula here, as evidenced in a chilling scene where Paul manages to stake the Count in his coffin but fails to destroy him because he cannot bring himself to say a cleansing prayer afterward.

Still, I’m of the opinion this is a lesser entry in the Hammer canon (yes, I‘m that weirdo who prefers offbeat numbers like Dracula AD 1972 instead). Not a poor film by any means, but Risen has enough flaws to push it into forgettable territory. For one, the gel lighting whenever Dracula shows up onscreen is quite irritating. I understood that the intention was to show the viewer the ‘evil aura’ of the vampire, but the crimson outlines seemed far too dark, while the traditional Italian giallo yellow just looked like damaged film stock to me (that‘s exactly what I thought I was seeing at first). The day for night shots are also entirely unconvincing. A common enough technique in color film from the era, but an experienced cinematographer turned director such as Freddie Francis should have known better. His cinematographer on this film was Hammer regular Arthur Grant, an elder statesman of film by 1968 who had primarily worked in black and white as opposed to color, so perhaps that explains some of the second-rate sights.

An example of Risen's gel lighting in action.

It’s not just the lighting that puts me off. Risen screams run-of-the-mill, a paint by numbers Hammer flick if there ever was one. The gloomy ambiance of the Victorian era is what attracts fans to these kind of films to begin with, but something about this one says ‘autopilot’ to me. The misty rooftops, the grimy tavern with the quiet, leering villagers, the gothic score by James Bernard. It’s a Big Mac movie. Filling, and it may serve your craving in the moment, but you’re always wanting more in the aftermath.

At least the acting is of a higher standard. Christopher Lee, in another extended cameo as Dracula, is fantastic as always. He is still the definitive Dracula in my book, here adding just a hint of sensuality to the performance that would be tapped further in subsequent entries in Hammer’s Dracula series. Rupert Davies is excellent, towing the line between firebrand preacher and loving, understanding surrogate father to Maria, even though it’s a tad unfortunate his character is more or less written out in the third act. Although slightly wooden in the delivery of a few lines, Barry Andrews does well as the roguish hero, bringing youthful vigor to the film. Barbara Ewing also impresses as a minor character, the sultry Zena, admirer of Paul’s and later another of Dracula’s thralls.

I would still recommend Dracula Has Risen From the Grave to budding Hammer enthusiasts or vampire fanatics, but it probably shouldn't be at the top of your to-watch list. A sleepy weekend matinee at best.

3 / 5

REVIEW - Vampire Cop (1990)

2011-10-14T20:48:00.000-04:00

Vampire Cop

USA - 1990

Directed by - Donald Farmer

Starring - Ed Cannon, Melissa Moore, Mal Arnold, Don Tilley

Color / 89 Min / NR

Ha ha! I've found one the Direct to Video Connoisseur hasn't reviewed yet! Yes! Er... oh, wait. I actually have to watch this shit now?

You know you're in for a good night when a movie has you bursting with belly laughter roughly twenty-five seconds into the thing. Actually, that's not true. I was laughing even before popping Vampire Cop in, simply because of the ricockulous tagline prominently displayed on the box art: "He takes a BITE out of crime!" But I digress. Twenty-five seconds of a shitty Cure ripoff band in the opening credits was all it took to get me started. I've no idea where director Donald Farmer found the guys who did the song that plays over the opening credits, but they're the kind of band that makes the group who did the "Pig Licker" song or whatever the hell its called in Hobgoblins sound really classy by comparison.

Ed Cannon plays Lucas, the 'hero' of the film. He's a cop who just happens to be a vampire too. Cannon looks much like I imagine the test subject from a failed attempt at cloning David Hasselhoff would look like. His acting style is much like Hasselhoff's too (nonexistent). It's never really explained how or why Lucas is a vampire, he just is. Lucas stalks the night like the least threatening Blade wannabe of all-time, thwarting muggers and other lowlife scum, and posing in front of ~~car headlights~~ the moonlight so the director can attempt to get a badass money shot to use approximately 14,763 times during the film.

Get used to this shot.

A typical confrontation between Lucas and a thug attempting to rape a girl in the middle of nowhere goes something like this.

Thug: "Hey pal, whaddya say to this? You want somma this? Is that whatchu want, fucker?"

Lucas: *Tears thug's arm off*

So it's good to know that Vampire Cop's vampiric mythology subscribes to the idea that vamps are super strong. Lucas also has to sleep upside down like a bat during the day, which is hilarious because you can see that he's using those weird crystal thingies for deodorant. I didn't think real people actually used that stuff. Regardless, I'm still not sure why Lucas feels compelled to rip a dude's arm off and then bite him in the neck. One quickly learns that stuff just happens in a flick like this. Waiting around for plausible explanations is counterproductive.

Lucas has a frank discussion with Melanie about his erectile dysfunction.

Ace reporter Melanie Roberts (Melissa Moore) catches wind of the story about the heroic nocturnal vigilante and focuses exclusively on the neck biting thing, because serial rapists suffer gruesome limb dismemberment every day. Melanie just goes ahead and walks into Lucas' house without knocking and starts asking him blunt questions. They do remember that this guy is also a COP, right? I don't know too many members of the police force who are willing to act nonchalant after some stranger tresspasses on their property. Yet the cunning Lucas plays it off because he has vampire charms and he knows Melissa Moore shows her tits in every movie she's in, so all he has to do is bide his time. Later, when these two dolts inevitably fall in love, Melanie invites Lucas back to her place. I love that 'her place' is quite clearly a cheap motel room with the other twin bed in the background.

There's a bad guy involved in this mess of a plot too, the fiendishly named Newhouse (Don Tilley). Mr. Tilley acts like a combination of William Shatner and Laurence Olivier and looks like the doppelganger of David Hyde Pierce. Newhouse is your typical drug dealing crime lord kinda guy who wants to hold the city to ransom for one hundred billion dollars or something. Keeping with traditional cop movie bylaws, Lucas is the only one who can stop the baddie and remains a thorn in Newhouse's side throughout the entire film. Newhouse's underlings consist of a horny henchman in a striped referee's shirt, some trashy street walkers, and this random non sequitur guy who we only ever see sitting in the bathtub. I've no idea what Bathtub Man is there for, his scenes feel like they've been spliced in from another movie. It's hilariously awful.

I'm essential to the plot, I tells ya!

Speaking of awful... wanna watch one of the dumbest death scenes of all-time? You know you wanna! Newhouse and henchman kidnap Lieutenant Dunkindonutson of the police and off him via chainsaw. I have to show rather than tell here because words cannot describe the ridiculosity:

The final epic confrontation between vampire cop and Niles Crane is also filled to the brim with absurdities. First of all, Frasier's brother seemingly breaks the fourth wall by pointing out the idiocy of a vampire cop by saying "You're a vampire! Why do you need a gun?!" Then our intrepid hero shows all the brains of an egg plant by biting Newhouse and turning him into a vampire! Personally, I think I'd rather kill my adversary rather than MAKE HIM AS STRONG AS I AM! But it's all a moot point really, as Newhouse out-stupids Lucas by immediately running outside into broad daylight and melting into goo. Lucas and Melanie go home. Credits roll. Ed Cannon is never seen nor heard from again.

Yes, this movie is drop-dead awful. On a technical level it is the very epitome of failure. The direction is poor, the editing worse, the acting laughable, the script a complete joke, and the film stock looks only a hair's breadth better than a public access television show from the same era. And yet, I can't recommend Vampire Cop enough to lovers of bad film everywhere. It's one of those shitty movies that will make you laugh rather than cry (think Troll 2 or Yor: Hunter from the Future kind of bad instead of Manos bad).

0.5 / 5

Can you believe he went this entire review without a Forever Knight joke, boss?

REVIEW - 9 to 5: Days in Porn (2008)

2011-10-11T20:21:00.001-04:00

9 to 5: Days in Porn

Germany - 2008

Directed by - Jens Hoffmann

Starring - Otto Bauer, Audrey Hollander, Belladonna, Jim Powers

Color / 95 Min / NR

Sex sells. The adult entertainment industry is more powerful than it has ever been. The porn business routinely squashes the music industry when it comes to sales and gross revenue. Porn stars are slowly but surely becoming more noticeable and dare I say, accepted (?), in certain parts of mainstream culture. And we can't forget to mention that bugbear in the room, the internet, which has played such a pivotal role in porn's rise to prominence. It's not unfair to say that a lot of people around all parts of the globe enjoy their smut from time to time. Most won't admit to looking at it. Bare asses and titties flopping around the screen are still very much a taboo, especially in the more heavily religious parts of the world. While I personally don't wish to egg on *that* discussion, I will say this for myself: I find the porno biz extremely fascinating on a number of different levels, not simply because it makes good spank material (though I would never deny porn's arousal factor).

Just who aspires to fuck on camera? What are their family lives like? What kind of person choses to go to film school and then turn their back on potential mainstream jobs to become a renegade director of skin flicks? What of the editors? The grips? The sound and lighting people who ply their trade in porn? Is it just an out for those who can't find any other work? The lure of big money? Or does one consciously make the decision to work in this rather seedy industry?

German filmmaker Jens Hoffman attempts to answer some of these questions concerning those involved in this 'hush-hush' industry in 9 to 5: Days in Porn. Hoffman spent three years collecting footage for this documentary on both sides of the Atlantic, primarily following ten different individuals who work, or used to work, in the skin trade. The film makes for an interesting expose on the business, shedding new light on the performer's 'regular' lives away from the cameras whilst also bringing to attention some of the mostly unseen men and women who work behind the scenes as directors, producers, or agents.

So, the next time you're about to spank it to an anal sex scene, keep the poor production assist who has to clean the shit from Sophie Dee's ass in mind, won't you?

Let's backtrack a moment. My more perverted brethren (hello my friends!) are probably wondering right now how this movie rates on the titillation scale. It doesn't. Not really. If you regularly, or even semi-regularly, watch porno, you're not going to see anything that will shock you or have you instantly shuffling knuckles. That's not to say there isn't any nudity - there's plenty. 9 to 5 has its share of exposed breasts, asses, the occasional glimpse of a ding-dong, or a girl's face or chest (or sometimes both) spattered with goo after the money shot, yet these shots aren't filmed in the same style as the live-action cartoon antics of a porno film would be shot. What you see are real, raw, candid glimpses of adult entertainment performers going about their jobs, no exploitative low camera angles of butt holes necessary. Granted, you will get to see a few snippets of humping every now and then, but it's Skinemax level stuff, meaning no actual penetration is seen. Say a prayer beforehand if you're prone to blushing easily. It's a documentary after all. It's 'educational'.

Part of me expected to see one of two scenarios play out when I watched 9 to 5. Either Hoffman created a fluff piece making the porn business out to be glitz and glamor with lots of beautiful people and fabulous, opulent lifestyles (see the Pornucopia series or Porn Star: The Legend of Ron Jeremy), or Hoffman takes on the mantle of moral crusader and paints a dismally dark picture of porn and shows us all the dirt under the fingernails of everyone involved. Surprisingly, we get neither. 9 to 5 is very much your typical 'fly on the wall' doc, and in some ways this actually damages the film's watchability. There are some serious pacing issues to be had. In between lingering shots of traffic and city skylines, the viewer is made to bear witness to quite a lot of inane chatter, in addition to some very lengthy segments of film where performers are just sitting around a porn shoot waiting to get their fuck on in front of camera. The vignettes that take place in the Czech Republic also left me cold (and not just because they were obviously filmed mid-winter). Perhaps it was a language barrier issue making it more difficult to get the story from the key players there, but Hoffman seemed to pull back even further on his foray into the central European porn scene. The only thing I really took away from that portion of the film was that Euro porn has even less time for a 'story' in their hardcore flicks than we do in the States nowadays.

A hefty portion of the film's running time is dedicated to Hoffman's journey into Porn Valley (aka the San Fernando Valley) in Los Angeles, California. The lives of redheaded porn chick Audrey Hollander and her suitcase pimp husband Otto Bauer (also an on-screen talent - yeah, I think it does take talent to stand around screwing for an hour and a half in absurd positions) are highlighted, bookending the film. Hoffman captures the couple doing standard, everyday activities like watching TV together or playing with their dog, but he also shows us the darker side of their relationship. Case in point: Audrey is feeling quite under the weather one day, whilst Bauer is in the kitchen of their own house, pumping another woman in the ass for a Jim Powers movie. Otto, class act that he is, tells his wife to have a beer and suck it up, she's got a scene to do later that day. It's never explicitly stated, but it doesn't take a psychiatrist to put two and two together and figure out that Audrey is playing the victim in her relationship with her husband.

Otto and Audrey - not your average American couple.

And if Otto Bauer's chauvinistic, American flag saluting bullshit doesn't give men involved in the industry a bad rap, the slimy Mark Spiegler will. Spiegler is the premier, go-to agent in LA's porn scene. So entrenched with the major porn studios is Spiegler that it's usually a mistake to make an enemy of him. Balding, blubbery, and a total slob, Spiegler lives with a constantly rotating harem of wannabe starlets in a junk filled apartment. He is essentially the asshole waiting at the bus stop preying on unassuming gals from out of town. We see an example of what happens when you cross the boss with German porn star Katja Kassin, who finds herself frozen out of work opportunities after a massive falling out with Spiegler. By the end of the film Katja has turned to escorting, rationalizing that "In one week I can make more than a month in porn".

They're not all heels though. Director Jim Powers blatantly admits that his movies have no artistic merit whatsoever. "It's all shit," he says at one point when asked about what he films. He uses a lot of the money he makes to fund his punk rock band, his passion and the real outlet for his creative energies. Powers is also the source of one of the biggest laughs to be had in 9 to 5, as a scheduled performer bails on him and he has to frantically light up the phone lines looking for an available porn babe willing to do an interracial gangbang scene with six guys that very afternoon. Just another day at the office!

The sad story of Katja Kassin.

There are plenty of other intriguing stories in 9 to 5. Former porn actress Sharon Mitchell, who dropped out of the business when she was savagely attacked by a stalker and went on to get herself certified as a sex therapist, maintains that there are three types of women who end up in the porn business. The stereotype is that only females from abusive homes wind up shagging in front of a camera, and while they do indeed make up a portion of the performers' backgrounds, there are also the shallow women who are well aware of how much money they can make based on their looks and do it simply for cold, hard cash. The third type are sex addicts, those who just can't get enough carnal fulfillment in their normal lives. This eventually segues into a piece on performers Mia and Ava Rose, real-life sisters who apparently had a relatively normal home life but simply love sex (at least that's what we're lead to believe; Mia makes a confession at the end that indicates she's probably not happy with her lifestyle choices anymore). Another addict is the legendary Belladonna, who we see at home with her loving husband and baby doing all the normal things a mommy would do before heading off to work for a day full of sweaty boinking and sticking baseball bats in her anus. Her husband Aiden is a photographer who appears to genuinely enjoy snapping shots of his wife with other men. In essence, they make a living while getting off at the same time. More power to them, I suppose.

Ultimately, I'd recommend 9 to 5: Days in Porn, even though I feel it's slightly under par on a film making level compared to other contemporary documentaries. It would make a decent watch to those who already enjoy adult entertainment in addition to those who like documentaries but are looking for more 'extreme' or outlandish content to learn about. Still, I feel a twinge of disappointment that this film wasn't more illuminating. Given the subject matter and the length of time Hoffman spent on the project, I would have hoped for some more human car crash stories to pop up. You hear about the tragedies of the smut game, Chasey Lain becoming a real-life crack whore or the grisly fate of Hailey Paige, but 9 to 5 steers well clear of that territory.

2.5 / 5

REVIEW - The Man From Hong Kong (1975)

2011-10-10T01:34:00.001-04:00

The Man From Hong Kong

Australia / Hong Kong - 1975

Directed by - Brian Trenchard-Smith

Starring - Yu Wang, George Lazenby, Hugh Keays-Byrne, Roger Ward

Color / 111 Min / Rated R for violence and gore, nudity, and profanity

Inspector Leng (Yu Wang) is a hotshot Hong Kong narcotics officer chosen to travel to Sydney to interrogate and then extradite a Chinese drug courier captured by Australian police. But when the courier is assassinated on his way to the courthouse to keep him from squealing, Inspector Leng goes apeshit and embarks on a monumental path of destruction in order to get to the leader of the drug cartel, Mr. Wilton (a mustachioed George Lazenby). Along the way, Leng is assisted by a couple of Aussie detectives, Taylor (Roger Ward) and Grosse (Hugh Keays-Byrne, aka Grunchlik from Farscape for my sci-fi nerds out there). Since he's a thrilling man of danger and excitement, Leng also manages to elicit a couple of shags from some young beauties while he's at it.

In theory, I should really adore an Ozploitation movie like The Man From Hong Kong. It has so many elements that I usually tend to enjoy in action trash flicks: George f'n Lazenby for a start, but not only that, it's clearly a James Bond pastiche, it has some excellent fight scenes, some wonderful action set pieces (including a completely barmy car chase that would make Death Proof blush with envy and a foot chase through the back alleys of Sydney that goes on for about ten freaking minutes), loads of hammy dialogue, an appearance by Sammo Hung, some sweet 1970's cheese on the soundtrack (seriously, you haven't lived until you've heard the awfulness of the song entitled "A Man is a Man is a Man" by Deena Greene), and you get to see Rosalind Speirs' boobies. What's not to like here?

It wouldn't be a kung-fu movie without a big fight inside a dojo, would it?

Well, there's the story for one thing. The Man From Hong Kong has a stupid plot. I know, I know. I pay too much attention to the story in these kind of movies sometimes, that's why they're often referred to as 'mindless entertainment' but I just can't help myself from thinking, even when I'm dealing with pure brain candy. Why, why, WHY does Inspector Leng want to bring down Wilton so bad? It makes no flippin' sense. Leng just snaps and embarks on a Charles Bronson styled revenge quest, leaving bodies and untold amounts of collateral damage in his wake, just to get to Wilton. You might think, well, obviously this character is a devout champion of the law, a kung-fu version of Batman, and simply must bring law breakers to justice. That would work for me, but Leng straight-up murders his adversary at the climax after forcing a confession out of him under the duress of torture. Yeah, that'll hold up in court. Oh wait, it doesn't matter about the confession because you FUCKING MURDERED HIM! The bumbling Australian police show up and, instead of throwing a set of cuffs on Leng for killing god knows how many and blowing up cars and buildings, they all have a good laugh about it together! Indeed, the Aussie police force seems to be perfectly content to let a foreigner with no jurisdiction whatsoever roam about their country and do as he pleases. Hot Shots took itself more seriously than this movie.

It would have been so easy to fix too. Just say Leng is an international spy and I'd buy into him prowling around other countries whilst chucking grenades and crashing cars. Then all you'd have to do is insert even just a bare minimum of dialogue explaining why Leng wants Wilton's head on a pole. I don't care if he date raped your sister, ran over your dog with his car, or picked on you in junior high school, just give the audience SOMETHING to go on. To be fair, this was Brian Trenchard-Smith's first movie as a director, and he clearly hadn't realized that audiences do occasionally want some potatos with their meat. You can shoot an amazing action sequence, but without at least a shread of story and even half-assed characterization, the audience isn't ever going to give a damn who lives and who dies. The sense of danger is lost when you don't give a shit about the characters.

I don't know about you, but I'm cheering for Unnamed Aussie Hoodlum #14 here.

Which brings me to my other major beef with The Man From Hong Kong. Leading man Yu Wang (aka 'Jimmy Wang Yu' overseas) is a charisma vaccum. He doesn't have the badassery of a Bruce Lee, the mystique of a Sonny Chiba, nor the charm of a Jackie Chan. Of course, these kind of martial arts movie stars don't just come around every day, but Yu Wang doesn't even show a brief glimpse of these qualities. Even if you're not comparing him to other martial arts stars, Yu Wang is about on the same level as John Stamos in Born to Ride. Yes. As terrible as Uncle Jessie. Wang is positively cardboard in most of his scenes, whilst the 'love scenes' where Wang attempts to be all sensitive after finishing up kicking some henchman's face off are an absolute joke. I already find it difficult to root for anybody going up against George Lazenby in a movie unless he's Kojak, but I'm pretty sure I'd find it impossible to root for Yu Wang as the hero in anything. The tales of Yu Wang's arrogance and bad attitude on set only make things worse. Apparently, the man thought he was brought in to direct the movie, and often tried bullying tactics on the first-timer Trenchard-Smith in an effort for Wang to get *his* vision of the film on screen. As a result of this, practically no one working on this film in front of or behind the camera liked the man. It's little wonder his star burned out in Asian cinema only a few short years after The Man From Hong Kong wrapped production.

Amusingly, director Trenchard-Smith makes a cameo appearance as one of Lazenby's goons and has a fight scene with Yu Wang. More than one source claims that Trenchard-Smith started throwing real punches and the fight became legit. I can't imagine why...

Officer Grosse sure hopes the 70's never end.

Worst of all, this movie is alarmingly short of the Laz. I tuned in to this flick expecting plenty of Lazenby, goddamn it. Not an unreasonable expectation given that he's one of the top billed stars in the film, but what I got left me wanting more. He doesn't even show up until almost forty minutes into the film, and the scenes featuring the character Wilton are few and far between. George does get some of the best dialogue humdingers though. His trash talking to Inspector Leng ("I know your martial arts.") is spine-tinglingly bad, but the shit eating grin on Lazenby's face in addition to his porn mustache makes it a highlight.

Even though I'm well aware the film made quite a massive take in both the Australian and Asian box offices (less so in the US, where it was renamed The Dragon Flies for some inexplicable reason), I'm just not very impressed. Like I said, the fight scenes are quite good, the chases are very impressively done, and there's a level of realistic violence that you hardly got to see in 70's martial arts films, but they're just scenes with little cohesiveness to bring them all together. You could watch it purely for the action and explosions, or if you're really hurting for a new James Bond parody to check out, but otherwise I'd have to say pass on The Man from Hong Kong.

1.5 / 5

I will now leave you with the worst love song montage in the history of cinema. "We Have All the Time in the World" this is not.

REVIEW - Thor (2011)

2011-10-08T23:53:00.003-04:00

Thor

USA - 2011

Directed by - Kenneth Branagh

Starring - Chris Hemsworth, Natalie Portman, Tom Hiddleston, Anthony Hopkins

Color / 115 Min / Rated PG-13 for intense sci-fi action and violence

I'll admit up front, Thor is not a comic book character I've ever really given a damn about. Strange, because going back to my childhood I've always found plenty of enjoyment in Norse mythology and tales of viking plunderers, but the Marvel version of Thor never created a spark with me. I believe I've read exactly ONE issue of The Mighty Thor, and it was a cheesy early 80's one at that. Most of my exposure to the comic character comes via Avengers books, where Thor just came across to me as a one-dimensional musclehead (which says something when you've got one-notes like the Hulk and Captain America in the same pages). So I can't exactly say I was ever looking forward to the live-action adaptation when it was announced. I paid little to no attention to the news regarding the film, and when I finally caught a trailer on television I was less than impressed with the 30-second snippets of CGI chicanery I saw. Then I figured out that Anthony Hopkins had been cast and Kenneth Branagh had directed the film. A long dead film snob in me stirred at those revelations. Kenneth Branagh? Really? Sure, as an actor he was no stranger to genre films, a Harry Potter here or a *snicker* Wild Wild West there, but as a director? This is the same man who did Hamlet and Henry V, correct?

Okay. This... could be interesting.

I don't know if seeing Branagh's name made me expect a transcendent comic book masterpiece with Shakespearean verve and flair thrown in or a total pretentious clusterfuck, but I got neither. Thor is solid popcorn entertainment, doubly so if you're any kind of Marvel fan, but on the whole I felt it was a rather average movie. Sure, I'd probably watch it again sometime, and I'm more than likely down for the sequel when it comes out circa 2013, but it still ranks far behind the likes of Iron Man, Batman Begins, or the recent X-Men: First Class when it comes to hero flicks. If anything, Branagh has proven that he can capably direct a big budget action blockbuster, though I have a sneaking suspicion veteran stunt coordinator/actionman extraordinaire Vic Armstrong, Thor's second unit director, might well have been in charge of most of the action sequences.

THOR SMASH! Wait... that's the wrong comic.

Thor's plot is your basic superhero origin story fare. You've got your flashback to when the god of thunder was a wee lad, you've got him going through a bit of family drama, you've got him powerless for a time and learning the ropes of life, the universe, and all that. You've got a former friend and ally betraying him, and oh yes, Thor discovers the love of his life while he's at it. It's a simple cut and paste formula where you change a few details here and there and could presumably use it for any superhero film (a radioactive spider instead of a magic hammer, for instance). I'm not trying to undermine comic book movies, because I generally like them, but Thor's story is certainly nothing groundbreaking or overly original. In some ways the plot is hindered slightly by the inclusion of characters like Clark Gregg's Agent Coulson from the Iron Man series, or Jeremy Renner showing up for a few minutes as Hawkeye, and of course, Sam Jackson as eyepatched badass Nick Fury with another brief cocktease cameo at the end. All of these characters are there to set up next summer's Avengers movie, and while it's quite an admirable stunt by Marvel Studios (which we'll have to wait and see if it pays off or not), it can be a slight distraction having Movie B starting in the background while Movie A is still ongoing.

The casting decisions are quite intriguing, and the performances range from sublime to completely forgetable. The title character is portrayed by former Aussie soap star Chris Hemsworth. Hemsworth sometimes gives Thor some VERY --- STILTED --- DICTION! But otherwise he's likeable and believably ripped enough to take on the part of a Nordic warrior. Playing opposite Hemsworth for much of the piece is Natalie Portman as scientist Jane Foster. While I can buy that ol' Thor might fall for a gal like her, I do find it somewhat difficult to imagine Portman as an astrophysicist. Jane tools around in her very own Mystery Machine with science pals Erik (Stellan Skarsgård) and Darcy (Kat Dennings). Skarsgård (Bootstrap Bill in the Pirates movies) is largely forgettable in his part as Jane's surrogate father, but Kat Dennings adds some spunky charm to the picture with what is essentially nothing more than a comic relief character.

So, uh, wanna be in an Avengers movie?

Elsewhere we have Irish beefstake Ray Stevenson, drafted into his second Marvel Studios film after Punisher: War Zone. Stevenson, almost unrecognizable under a fatsuit and a monumental Nordic beard, makes the most of his limited screen time as Volstagg, another character meant for chuckles. Smoking hot milf Rene Russo makes a return to film after a long absence but is wasted in a very small bit part as Odin's wife Frigga (Of whom Thor bafflingly gives a flirty wink to at one point - wha? Well, I guess if your mom was Rene Russo... no, I don't really want to think about that.). And as expected, Anthony Hopkins as Odin lends a bit of class to the proceedings; even when he's wearing a daft viking helm you can't help but take everything the man says seriously.

For me, the standout performance is easily Tom Hiddleston as Loki, master of magic. If there's any hint of Bill Shakespeare in this film, it's here with Hiddleston. The script presents the English actor with a much more toned down Loki than the over the top caffeine junky I'm used to seeing in the comic books and other Marvel spin-off media (cartoons and video games and such). Hiddleston brings a real haunted nuance to the part, and even makes the viewer sympathize with him when he discovers his true past. Although the character is certainly intended as the arch-rival of the god of thunder to reluctantly battle against, Loki hasn't really achieved true *villain* status yet (I'm sure his darkest days of villainy are yet to come). In other words, he's not just evil for the sake of it, and that was something I certainly wasn't expecting out of Thor.

The queen of stilted, wooden romances strikes again.

Obviously the film is one of those 'special effects extravaganzas' that never fail to lure the rubes into the theaters en masse. Being the practical effects kind of guy I am, I expected to hate any special effects laden sequences in Thor, but they surprisingly didn't bother me that much. Sure, it looks like you're watching a video game at times, but it's a very pretty video game filled with rainbow bridges and mean looking frost giants. Through judicious editing and skillful framing by the director, the segues between fantastical FX and live-action are not nearly as bad as they could be. Also worth noting is the original score by Patrick Doyle, a grandiose suite that sounds as if it was influenced somewhat by John Williams' score to Richard Donner's Superman. Not the sort of score you hear very much in the movies nowadays. The ostentatious music accompanies the action on-screen very well.

If you're a fan, well, you've probably already seen Thor, haven't you? If you're on the fence about dedicating a couple hours to watching it, I'll say it's worth it. I doubt it's ever going to become your favorite movie of all-time, but for comic nerds and action fans, Thor will at least tide you over until the next wave of Marvel movies hit the theaters.

3 / 5

REVIEW - Hell Comes to Frogtown (1988)

2011-10-03T19:08:00.001-04:00

Hell Comes to Frogtown

USA - 1988

Directed by - Donald G. Jackson & R.J. Kizer

Starring - Roddy Piper, Sandahl Bergman, Cec Verrell, William Smith

Color / 86 Min / Rated R for violence, nudity, and mild profanity

After the bomb drops, Sam Hell (Roddy Piper) is one of the few fertile men left on Earth. Captured and drafted into the ranks of the provisional government's Amazonian military, Sam is to be used as breeding stock with a group of fertile women. The only snag is, the women have been captured by bandit-like mutants living out in a 'mutant reservation' referred to as Frogtown due to the unfortunate mutations suffered by some in the radioactive aftermath. Along with warrior-nurse Spangle (Sandahl Bergman) and gunner Centinella (Cec Verrell), Sam must venture out into the ~~California desert~~ wasteland and rescue the captured women from the mutant frogs. The future of the human race is at stake!

Okay, this all sounds monumentally stupid, but as a cult movie fan, this very silly premise alone is enough to get my heart racing with excitement. I remember watching bits and pieces of this film on cable when I was a youngster. I want to say it was the Last Call on Joe Bob's show the night Roddy Piper co-hosted, but my memory is fuzzy. Regardless, it was replayed on networks like TNT enough times that I'm pretty sure I saw the entire film over the years, just not all at once or in any kind of sensible sequential order (and this makes even less sense when you consider I watched some of the craptacular sequels this movie spawned like Toad Warrior in one sitting). Generally speaking, I had somewhat favorable memories of Hell Comes to Frogtown, so I was keen to sit myself down and watch the whole thing once and for all.

Care for a Bud-weis-er?

Annnd... it kinda sucked. Actually, it didn't 'kinda' suck. It did suck. Period. I think I liked it better in my head as the out of sequence Tarantino movie that never happened.

I know Hell Comes to Frogtown has its share of fans, so hear me out before you start chucking incendiary grenades my way. First of all, I love late 70's to late 80's post-apocalyptic fun and games. I'm the guy who thinks 2019: After the Fall of New York is a bonafide CLASSIC. I'm not Roger Ebert reviewing a Friday the 13th movie here, okay? Second, just glancing at the featured players in the cast, this movie should be totally rad because of them. Roddy Piper is a major fan favorite of B-movie fans, and arguably the best wrestler turned actor of them all (although Rocky is the only other serious contender to this title), Sandahl Bergman is one of those smolderingly hot exotic beauties from the 80's that we never seem to get in the movies anymore, and Cec Verrell is likeable simply because she's so elusive in her work (how she failed to become a bigger star is beyond me). The cast also boasts B-legend William Smith - Carrot in The Ultimate Warrior, the outlaw in Boss Nigger, Ah-nold's dad in Conan the Barbarian, the bad guy in that one episode of The Rockford Files, the fucking Marlboro Man! Yeah, this movie should have been aces.

So what exactly are my grievances with Hell Comes to Frogtown? One of my biggest gripes with this film are its woeful pacing problems. I have a hunch this might be a side effect of having two directors controlling the ebb and flow of the film, which seldom works to a favorable end product. There are some incredibly dull stretches of movie where nothing much seems to happen at all, and when some action finally bothers to show up, it comes across as stilted and uncertain, not exactly the blockbuster scene you were waiting on. A scene where Roddy Piper is armed with two shotguns should not be dull for a second. The film is also angling for a bit of comedy, and indeed the viewer is made to hold their breath in anticipation for a clever punchline at certain points, but it just doesn't happen. The script isn't witty enough and our two leads (Piper and Bergman) don't have enough on-screen chemistry to pull off any serious chuckles. Oh look, the big, bad frog-man has three dicks. Clever.

Let me show you a *real* legscissors hold, Mr. Piper.

As for those frogmen, well, the makeup jobs on some of the mutated characters are actually quite good, especially for a film with a limited budget. I can't understand why all of the froggy characters weren't done this way. Instead, the major frog characters are guys in poorly done frog masks and prosthetics. The live action Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie looks like a million bucks in comparison to how shitty these frogs look (and sound - the syncing of the actor's voices with the mouth movements is pretty poor). I'm also slightly confused as to whether or not the residents of Frogtown are people who have mutated into frogs or if they're frogs that mutated into intelligent bipeds? Or both?! Perhaps that explains the two types of frog-people. It's never made explicitly clear to us though, and my inquiring mind wants to know, dammit.

Speaking of questioning the plot, I realize it's often a futile effort when you're dealing with a B-movie, and even if you do find some kind of resolution it's often a Pyrrhic victory (Yay for you! You figured out the deep intricacies of Surf Nazis Must Die! Now *you* must die.), but I do have to wonder just what the hell is going on in this movie. So you've got yourselves one of the last fertile men on the planet, do you A.) wrap him up in cotton wool and keep him well out of harm's way, or B.) send him into hostile territory where brigand frog people await with guns, knives, explosives, and chainsaws? Of course, you don't have much of a movie if your main character is safe and snug in a bunker somewhere, but I wonder if a simple revision to the script couldn't have made Hell Comes to Frogtown just a smidgen more sensible? Turning Sam Hell into the protector character ala Clive Owen's character in Children of Men could have worked, although you'd have to omit the lame gags involving Sam's explosive chastity belt (one of the evil frogs even points out the braindead logic of wiring your one fertile man to blow if he tries to escape the military's clutches).

Hurry up, dammit. Cherry 2000 needs these rocks for the same shot later today.

Finally, I'm flat out disappointed in Roddy Piper's character here. We're told he's a war hero, a real tough guy, a man to steer clear of, and yet the script constantly has him acting like a total spaz. I have trouble buying Sam Hell as a bad ass when he's getting knocked out in one punch, flailing around like an epileptic freak because his belt is shocking his gonads, or whining about not wanting mean Mr. Frog Guy to chop him up when he inevitably gets captured (No witty one-liners? No 'go fuck yourself' speech to the adversary? You're really gonna beg for your life? O-kay...). This character is about a million miles away from the don't give a shit swagger of Nada in They Live. I'm not saying Piper doesn't have the charisma to pull off the lovable loser type role, but I'm just miffed we're promised one thing and shown another. Oh, and by the way, movie - having Sam show any sort of trepidation at the prospect of being the only male breeding stock around is just lame. At the heart of Hell Comes to Frogtown is a juvenile male fantasy of a dude getting to bareback his own harem repeatedly until they all get pregnant without any sort of responsibility to the children (and when they've had a kid and recovered - more fucking!). If you're going that direction, at least play on the goddamn fantasy instead of trying to hide it. You're not going to be mistaken for anything but a sexist swine regardless (Hey look! The only fertile women left on the planet are hot bitches! Imagine that!). May as well go whole hog and have some fun with it instead of having your main character bemoan his fate.

Still, I managed to find at least a couple of positives to take away from this film. Though he's short of screen time, William Smith is pretty awesome as the crooked Captain Devlin, the man who is out to get our protagonist because he knocked up Devlin's daughter (with Devlin mistakenly believing that Sam raped her). And the elusive beauty Cec Verrell is brilliant as the strong, silent type who chomps cigarillos while mowing down frogs with a turret gun. I will also state for the record that the next time I play a tabletop game of Dungeons & Dragons or Gamma World and roll up a female character, I'm totally naming her Centinella. What a great name. If I didn't know any better, I'd say screenwriters Jackson and Frakes pulled the name from their own fantasy role-playing group.

Love is always in the air when frog strippers meet carny prospectors.

Yeah. I'm talking about naming a fucking D&D character as a positive for Hell Comes to Frogtown. Clearly it didn't do much for me. Recommended to approach with caution if you've never seen it before.

1.5 / 5

REVIEW - Dark of the Sun (1968)

2011-09-27T03:32:00.000-04:00

Dark of the Sun

UK / USA - 1968

Directed by - Jack Cardiff

Starring - Rod Taylor, Yvette Mimieux, Peter Carsten, Jim Brown

Color / 100 min / NR

Rod Taylor is Bruce Curry, a tough as nails mercenary for hire working for the Conogolese government to fight leftist insurgents during the Simba Rebellion of 1964/65. President Ubi tasks Curry with a dangerous mission to venture into isolated territory via steam train to rescue Europeans living in a town about to be attacked by the Simbas. A noble cause, although Curry quickly determines that his real job is to retrieve $50 million dollars worth of diamonds from a bank vault in the same town in order to appease Belgian interests in the Congo. In addition to a contingent of Congolese soldiers, Curry's team consists of his good friend Ruffo (Jim Brown), an Oxford educated Congolese turned soldier, Henlein (Peter Carsten), an ex-Nazi who proudly displays a Swastika necklace when he fights, and Doctor Wreid (Kenneth More), a brilliant medic yet miserable drunk charged with patching up the unit.

Being a big fan of mercenary war flicks like The Wild Geese, I'm somewhat irritated that I hadn't heard of Dark of the Sun until fairly recently. To be fair, it wasn't always the easiest film to get your hands on; it was only a few months ago that it was finally issued on DVD for the first time. Previously, one had to wade through various VHS edits with dodgy transfers or simply be lucky enough to have a local cable channel willing to run the movie at a 2 or 3 am timeslot. Dark of the Sun was lambasted upon its theatrical release as being far too violent and risque, which watching it today seems somewhat laughable. Yes, two young children are gunned down (off-screen), and yes, there are quite a lot of deaths from gunfire, knives, and explosions, but at no point does this film ever revel in the violence shown onscreen like an exploitation movie would. This is a movie giving the viewer a glimpse into the hells of war, the worst of humanity - nothing more, nothing less. Fact is, nowadays you could flip your television over to MTV and find something far more risque and offensive than what you'd see in a film like Dark of the Sun.

Wow. Just look at that scowl. I wouldn't want to fuck with this guy.

More famed as a cinematographer, Jack Cardiff had a varied career as a director, from serious, award baiting dramas like Sons and Lovers in 1960 to mad scientist horror B-movies like The Mutations in 1974 (starring the likes of Donald Pleasance and Tom Baker pre-Doctor Who). In the middle of this roller coaster directorial career was Dark of the Sun, at its core an action/adventure movie. Cardiff, by no means an expert at the genre, pulled off one of the finest efforts in the range. There's a real punch to the action scenes, and dramatic tension is added by underrated editor Ernest Walter (The Haunting), a man with a keen eye who also had a journeyman career in film. However, it's Cardiff's experience in dramas that helps push Dark of the Sun to the next level. You're made to care for the characters, and with the setting being the middle of a warzone, you fear that any one of them may bite it at any given moment.

The ensemble cast is top class - Peter Carsten is perfect as the repugnant ex-Nazi, who despite his flaws as a human being remains essential to the mission's success. Kenneth More is also fantastic as the drunken Dr. Wreid, and the script provides him with a poetic character arc that allows him the opportunity to redeem himself for all his sins. Jim Brown had silenced many of the critics who doubted that an ex-NFL player would make a good actor after his appearance in The Dirty Dozen the year prior. Dark of the Sun was one of many acting jobs that would be thrown Brown's way in the wake of The Dirty Dozen, and it couldn't have been an easy part to play. Ruffo is essentially the one decent guy in the entire movie; his main flaw is that he's too nice, especially to his jaded friend Curry. The two characters have a bond with one another that writers of buddy cop movies would give their reproductive organs to capture.

I just can't quit you, Ruffo.

And then there's the man himself, Rod Taylor. Some say this film is Taylor's finest performance, and I can't really disagree with that sentiment. Having transitioned to more tough guy roles over the years leading up to this film, Taylor found the ultimate badass in Curry. He's a man who has walked through hell, figuratively speaking, and lived to tell the tales. Curry has seen and done it all and has the world weariness about him to prove it. He doesn't necessarily enjoy his job anymore, but fighting is the only thing Curry knows and the only thing he's good at. The scenes capturing the philosophical debates between Curry and Ruffo, arguing about war and the state of the world, are just priceless. That's not to say Curry is all talk and no play, he's still able to disarm a motherfucker coming at him with a chainsaw and make the other guy look like a total pussy in the process (no spoilers there, cause you need to see this for yourselves if you haven't already).

If there's one weak link in the film, it's eye candy Yvette Mimieux. The actress herself does a fine job, it's just her character is fairly one-dimensional and somewhat unconvincing. Her character Claire is saved from a farmstead attacked by the Simbas along the way to the isolated town, and is then meant as something of a veiled love interest for Curry. One could argue that Curry and Ruffo already have enough spark together to create a smashing gay love story, but this is 1968, so the movie's not going there (even though Ruffo does tell Claire "he's worth it." when Claire is musing over whether or not to pursue Curry's favor further - talk about mixed messages, movie!). To be fair, the romance is fairly low key, there's no smaltzy kiss scene with swelling orchestral cues to be had, but it still bothered me that Claire was getting googly-eyed on Curry. Her husband had just died in the Simba attack on their farm, and she sure does get over her shock and mourning in a hurry. While I wouldn't begrudge my wife finding somebody else to settle with when I die, at least wait until my corpse is cold before putting the moves on another guy, know what I'm saying?

The flying Jeep-jump body attack. Outlawed in the WWE these days.

One final point worth mentioning is the score by Jacques Loussier. It's fucking gorgeous. I can't articulate it any better than that. Wait, hold on, let me try again. Jazzy, elegiac magnificence. Okay, that's slightly more adult of me. Regardless, it's a truly brilliant film score that perfectly sets the tone for the film. Loussier's work here is easily the equal of any top-notch film score from the 60's by the likes of Barry or Morricone or whomever you wished to name. Certain cues from Dark of the Sun's score were used in Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds, which in addition to the casting of Rod Taylor in that film, were QT's nods of acknowledgement at this wonderful adventure movie.

And I can see why a guy like Tarantino would develop a love affair with a movie like Dark of the Sun. It has a certain charm and magic to it that you don't really get in the overproduced Hollywood blockbusters of today. It's really that good, and it's positively shocking that the film has languished in semi-obscurity for so long. Here's hoping it finds a new lease of life with the recent DVD release.

4.5 / 5

REVIEW - Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li (2009)

2011-09-22T01:34:00.000-04:00

Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li

Canada / India / USA / Japan - 2009

Directed by - Andrzej Bartkowiak

Starring - Kristin Kreuk, Neal McDonough, Chris Klein, Robin Shou

Color - 96 Min - Rated PG-13 for sequences of violence and martial arts action, some sensuality

Chun-Li (Kristin Kreuk) lives the good life in Hong Kong with her family until one fateful day when her father is unexpectedly kidnapped by an underworld mobster known as Bison (Neal McDonough). That shit won't fly with the chick who can do the patented spinning bird kick though, so Chun-Li seeks out wise master Gen (Robin Shou) who can teach her the secret of asskickery and how to throw fireballs so she can take down Bison and his organization of hoods and killers. Along the way, Chun-Li is assisted by Interpol agent Charlie Nash (Chris Klein) and his utterly useless partner Maya (Moon Bloodgood). Typical revenge movie violence ensues.

To say Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li received scathing reviews upon its theatrical release is putting it mildly. This movie was absolutely massacred by the critics, and yet... surprise, surprise, it's not nearly as horrible as they would lead you to believe. Now, now, don't get me wrong, it's not the kind of movie you'll remember twenty years from now as a seminal piece of cinematic magic, nor is it even remotely close to being a true standout in the field of action movies. It's still a subpar movie at times, and only servicable entertainment at best. If you're looking for a nice looking martial arts movie with some interesting and over-the-top fight sequences that doesn't require much brainpower going in, Legend of Chun-Li has you covered. For critics to proclaim that leading actress Kristin Kreuk is a "dead-eyed, sleepy-voiced, charisma-impaired automaton" in this film is a bit much though (because let's be honest, if anybody deserves to be singled out for a Razzie in this film, it's Chris Klein - more on him in a mo).

There is no chance for you to beat me! Challenge someone else!

This film isn't related to 1994's cheese-fest Street Fighter, which starred Jean-Claude Van Damme, the beefy cokehead martial artist with the thick European accent, as an AMERICAN Air Force guy (he must have been Cajun too). In fact, if you changed a few names here and there, you probably could have marketed Legend of Chun-Li as a typical martial arts revenge flick without the Street Fighter brand at all (think of it instead as a poor man's Chocolate). That's arguably one of the downfalls of this movie: it doesn't have enough in common with the actual Street Fighter video games (which is weird considering it was released as a sort of 20th anniversary celebration for the game series). There's no tournament of World Warriors to be had here, no stretchy armed Yoga masters or masked luchador chefs in sight. Instead, this film acts as more of a prequel to the very first Street Fighter game (you know, the one nobody actually likes or remembers?). The first tournament is teased at the end of this movie, but that's a sequel that's never, ever going to be made if you know how badly this movie tanked at the box office ($50 million budget, just shy of $9 million recouped - ouch). To be fair though, the fact that Legend of Chun-Li is such a departure from the video games means that the Hadouken spamming douchebag Ryu won't be putting in an appearance in this film.

Hammy acting is the order of the day in Legend of Chun-Li. Kristin Kreuk is your tough gal who has to keep a straight, menacing face going even when she's fed preposterous lines of dialogue. She makes a good heroine despite the script's occasional handicapping; if you're not rooting for her at the start you'll definitely be rooting for her when she kicks Taboo's ass (anyone who beats up a member of the Black Eyed Peas is ace in my book). Meanwhile, Neal McDonough gets to play up his inner Bond villain, smugly gulping champagne and threatening subordinates with a shit eating perma-grin on his face. He makes for a satisfactory adversary, though the choice of an Irish accent for the character is somewhat questionable (and leaves a hilarious gaping plot hole in its wake). Robin Shou gets to do his best "wax on, wax off" routine as the stereotypical kung-fu master, whilst elsewhere Michael Clarke Duncan puts in an appearance as disgraced boxer Balrog (a very appropriate casting decision). Most of the hammy acting is innocent enough; the actors generally have enough charisma to pull off silly lines of dialogue without making the viewer want to scream bloody murder. But then Chris Klein shows up, finishing up his opening lines of dialogue with a grimace inducing "I looove this job!". It only gets worse from there. Seriously, his delivery is so stilted and nauseatingly macho I half-expected the dude to turn directly to the camera at certain points and say: "My name... is Keith Stone."

Damn I'm smooth.

Legend of Chun-Li is held up by a number of energetic fight sequences and some gorgeous cinematography. Dion Lam (Infernal Affairs, Flying Dagger, Spider-Man 2) was charged with the dual-role of fight choreographer and director of the action scenes, and he provides some really engaging popcorn munching sequences for fight fanatics. No less than 1000 bajillion pieces of broken glass and 7000 kajillion splinters of broken wood assault the screen at any given moment during hand to hand combat. While the action scenes are certainly in the realm of fantasy with the occasional gravity defying flip or steroid induced power punch, they never stray too far into pure video game cheesiness (possibly a disappointment to some; my fiancee wanted to see more of Chun-Li's special moves from the games included). Filming locations included Hong Kong and Bangkok, and both are beautifully captured on film. For such an alleged turkey, Legend of Chun-Li sure has some excellent production values.

While I wouldn't recommend martial arts fans rushing to watch Legend of Chun-Li as soon as possible, if you ever catch it on cable or just don't know what to rent next, give it a try.

2.5 / 5

REVIEW - Blueberry (2004)

2011-09-15T13:40:00.000-04:00

Blueberry *

France/Mexico/USA - 2004

Directed by - Jan Kounen

Starring - Vincent Cassel, Juliette Lewis, Michael Madsen, Temuera Morrison

Color - 124 Min - Rated R for violence, sexuality, nudity, and drug content

In doing some homework for this review, I checked out a translated version of one of the Blueberry comics, a long-running Franco-Belgian series concerning the exploits of Michael 'Blueberry' Donovan, anti-hero #79 of the Old West. What I saw was a comic chock full of action, yet also a very different take on on the western genre, one you could only get from a European perspective. If you think of Blueberry as the comic book version of a Sergio Leonne film, you can begin to understand why the series has such a loyal fanbase overseas. The book sadly remains an enigma in North America, so if you're in my part of the world, you may want to consider 'other' means of scoping out this comic if you're interested (*wink, nudge*), because copies of the trades can be absurdly expensive.

Regardless, imagine the delight of that small, yet devout fanbase when they first heard the news of a film adaption of their favorite comic book coming to the big screen. There's certainly enough material to work with from the comics - this could be the start of a new series! Credibility! Respect! Reissues and special editions! The ability to become a snob with the bragging rights to say "I liked it when it was underground."! The original illustrator Moebius was going to cameo in the film! Yes, it has his seal of approval! It's going to be a great movie!

Pretty much the money shot of the entire movie.

...And now imagine how dejected, angry, and confused those fans must have been after finally watching Blueberry the movie.

To be fair to director Jan Kounen and company, Blueberry does have the balls to admit in the opening credits that it's "Loosely based on the Blueberry comic book series". 'Loosely' being the key word, obviously. Some of the character names are the same, and the plot of the film is a rough version of the first Blueberry collection: Chihuahua Pearl, but otherwise the movie is a total departure from the roughneck comic series. Instead we have an acid western - yes, acid western - that eschews much of the visceral action in exchange for drugged out mind storms from Hunter S. Thompson's worst nightmares. I only read the first Blueberry comic, so I don't know if shamanism and drugs comes into play later down the line in those books, but just judging by some of the fan reactions to the film version of Blueberry, I highly doubt it.

Michael Donovan has been rechristened 'Mike Blueberry' in the film, played by French actor Vincent Cassel. They get around Cassel's obvious accent by explaining that he's a Cajun from French Louisiana, although no one bothers to explain why the Blueberry nickname, which makes sense in the comics, has morphed into a surname, which just sounds silly to me. Blueberry starts out as a troubled youth, dumped by his immediate family on a distant uncle who lives out west. His uncle has little patience for the boy, and soon Mike is sneaking off into the night for some hijinx at the local saloon with Madeleine, a prostitute he's rather smitten with. Alas, coitus interruptus; unbeknownst to Mike, young Madeleine has another lover, Wallace Sebastian Blount (Michael Madsen), who doesn't take too kind to his lady fooling around with another man. A gunfight soon breaks out, and Madeleine is killed in the crossfire. Mike is also wounded and has little choice but to escape into the night.

Blueberry's horse carries the now-unconscious rider into native territory, where a sympathetic tribe takes the young man in and heals his wounds. With nowhere else to go, Blueberry stays with the natives, who treat him as more of a family member than his own flesh and blood ever did (and also teach him the power of peyote while they're at it). Fast forward several years and Mike is now back in the civilized world, acting as a lawman for a border town alongside his drunken deputy McClure (Colm Meaney, in arguably the best performance in this film despite the terrible beard given to him by the makeup department). Although tensions run high between the townsfolk and the Native Americans, Blueberry's relations with the tribe helps garner a truce. Trouble arrives in the form of Prosit (Eddie Izzard, doing his most godawful German accent), a former Prussian officer turned conman who has a map to an ancient trove of gold buried in the mountains, smack dab in the middle of native territory. Naturally, there are plenty of opposing powers that want to get their hands on the gold - the brutish Woodhead (Djimon Hounsou), the snobbish Sullivan (Geoffrey Lewis, basically playing the town's resident Scrooge McDuck), and a returning Blount (let's face it, Michael Madsen was born for the villainous roles). Naturally, all of these opposing powers will try to kill one another in the process of reaching the gold, and only Blueberry can keep the peace... or can he?

Hilda! Hilda! Wake up, Hilda! I have invented a maneuver!

Oh, and Juliette Lewis is in the movie too.

Yeah.

The plot sounds like your typical western movie, and I think it would be okay if the movie focused on the hunt for this mythical buried treasure and all the treachery the villains are willing to inflict on one another in order to claim it. Yet the film takes one too many bizarre detours into acid trip territory. Example: Blueberry crosses into tribal territory to seek counsel. Blueberry drinks their special Kool-Aid and trips for ten minutes. The viewer is treated to some very weird CGI imagry and finally Blueberry wakes up some time later in a cold sweat. Nothing is resolved. Hm... okay. This happens again and again throughout the course of the film. Even the final confrontation between hero and villain takes place within the confines of an acid trip, in which Mike must unravel a long repressed memory in order to conquer his fears and slay the bad guy... WITH MIND BULLETS! That's telekinesis, Kyle.

The druggy sequences are interesting only as eye candy. They do look quite different to any CGI special effects you may have seen before - but they meander too long for my liking. Perhaps if I had some spare vicodin around the house and watched Blueberry, my opinion might be different, but if you're watching this stone cold sober, the spaced out moments aren't particularly arresting. There's plenty of padding outside of the peyote consumption - Maria, the character played by Juliette Lewis, sings one of the slowest renditions of "Danny Boy" imaginable for no apparent reason. I know Juliette Lewis can sing in real life; she's been in a rock band and many of their tunes have become guilty pleasures of mine. But just because she can sing doesn't mean you need to film it. Jan Kounen may as well have asked Eddie Izzard to start doing his standup routine while he was at it, that's how out of place and tacked on Maria's singing feels.

This is probably how Gary Busey sees the world every single day.

In addition to the CGI effects, the cinematography itself is quite nice. Some of the location shoots took place in the same areas where Once Upon a Time in the West and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly were filmed, and the Spanish desert still looks just as beautifully desolate today as it did in the glory days of Spaghetti westerns. However, I can't recommend this film to traditional western buffs. Blueberry is worth a watch only if you're an aficionado of drug flicks or you can appreciate a film based on visuals alone.

2 / 5

* = Blueberry was released in the United States as Renegade and marketed as a traditional western. Yeesh.

REVIEW - Alone in the Dark (1982)

2011-09-10T21:29:00.000-04:00

Alone in the Dark

USA - 1982

Directed by - Jack Sholder

Starring - Jack Palance, Donald Pleasence, Martin Landau, Dwight Schultz

Color - 92 Min - Rated R for violence, nudity, and frightening and intense scenes

Dr. Dan Potter (Dwight Schultz) has just accepted a new job at the Haven Institute in New Jersey, a psychiatric hospital run by the eccentric Dr. Bain (Donald Pleasence). Potter quickly discovers that Bain's methods are somewhat unusual - he believes that the utmost leniency is required to heal a sick mind, eschewing crude methods of treatment such as electroshock therapy. Dr. Potter is somewhat off-put by Bain and his bizarre rapport with his patients and the manner in which he indulges their various psychosis, but remains open minded and optimistic. That is, until he meets the truly dangerous patients kept on the 3rd floor of the Haven. The patients include psychotic Vietnam vet Frank Hawkes (Jack Palance), still playing the role of 'Sarge' all these years later as the leader of the group, Byron Sutcliff - a former preacher turned pyromaniac freak, morbidly obese child molester Ronald Eister (Erland van Lidth), and "the Bleeder" John Skaggs (Phillip Clark), a homicidal maniac who refuses to show his face. As per Dr. Bain's instruction, the men on the 3rd floor are not kept behind bars. An expensive electronic security system is the only thing keeping them in their rooms at night.

The 3rd floor patients had become quite close to Potter's predecessor, Dr. Merton. The four men come to the misguided conclusion that Potter must have killed Merton to take his place, thus they begin to scheme a method of eliminating the new shrink. An unfortunate mishap at the local power plant causes a statewide blackout, which gives the maniacs the perfect opportunity to escape. They kill the hospital guard and steal a car, tearing off into the night to begin the stalking of Dr. Potter...

Let's see. I've got the Crossbow of slaying, plus I have attack of opportunity, and then there's my DEX bonus...

Alone in the Dark is notable for being the first movie ever theatrically released by New Line Cinema and for unfortunately sharing the same name as a series of video games (which means it also shares its name with the reviled 2005 movie allegedly based on said games directed by Uwe Boll). It seems a shame that history has reduced this film to nothing more than an answer to what could be a moderately difficult trivia question in a game of Scene-It?, because it's one of the most interesting slasher films I've ever watched, equally chilling as it is intelligent. And it doesn't hurt that the movie is graced with a trio of brilliant actors (Palance, Pleasence, and Landau), each of whom turn in arresting performances as a different kind of crazy.

I suppose the film was easy to overlook for a contemporary critic in 1982, after all, the popularity of Leatherface and Michael Myers had ensured that a gamut of slasher flicks would be released over the next several years, some of them good, many of them in the middling to bad range. Yet the premise of Alone in the Dark is so creepy and creative that I have to wonder how many members of the press actually sat through the whole thing. A massive power outage and a gang of homicidal loonies set loose on a quiet community? Even today that still seems like relatively uncharted horror movie territory. I only wish the 'dark' aspect of Alone in the Dark was tapped into just a little bit more. Most of the scenes after the power outage still appear to be pretty well lit (understandable if you don't want your movie to look like crap, but work with me here, people!).

He disagreed with something that ate him.
(There's like one person out there who appreciates my obscure James Bond jokes.)

It is somewhat amusing that the prolific Dwight Schultz is playing the perfectly sane and rational psychiatrist in Alone in the Dark when barely a year later he would become famous for taking on the part of TV's 'Howling Mad' Murdock in The A-Team. Schultz is the straight man in the film. His composed demeanor and every-man attitude is somewhat vanilla compared to the antics of the mental hospital patients and their kooky psychiatrist, but Dr. Potter does start to lose it just a bit as his family are also put in jeopardy by the escapees. The rising violence of the third act brings out the primal side in him as survival instincts kick in. A neat character arc to follow along with.

Martin Landau is perhaps at his creepiest in this film, playing the manic-eyed, Bible-thumping preacher to perfection. His performance is memorable enough to make you do a double take whenever you see one of his latter day films where he's playing a kinder, more grandfatherly type character. Could that really be the same actor? Donald Pleasance also threatens to steal any scenes he's involved in, playing perhaps a polar opposite of Dr. Loomis from the Halloween series. While Loomis could be quite creepy and mysterious at times, Dr. Bain is far more quirky and offbeat. Bain's debates with Potter early on in the film are quite thought provoking and one of the highlights of the film - consider: are the patients in a mental hospital the sick ones? Or are they merely victims of a sick planet?

Perhaps neither. Perhaps Hawkes is on the money when he tells Dr. Potter: "There are no.... crazy people, doctor. We're all just........ on vacation." Line of the movie, folks! Watching this film made me once again realize just what a talent Jack Palance was. Oh, how I miss him being around. We could use a little more Jack Palance (or Donald Pleasance) nowadays. No doubt, Jack was one of the hammiest actors of all-time, but he did it with such verve and confidence and bravado. You never doubted him for a second. The only problem with having Palance in this role is that Hawkes becomes so much of a badass that you may come very close to cheering for him in an anti-hero sort of way; obviously not the intent of the filmmakers here.

O hai, boyfriend! I'm stuck babysitting again. Yeah, I know, what a drag! But the brat is off taking a nap. So, like, why not come on over for a quick suck 'n fuck with me? It'll be totally rad! There's no lights and the news keeps talking about those four psycho killers on the loose. What could possibly go wrong?!

For a directorial debut, Alone in the Dark was a fine start for Jack Sholder. He knows his horror techniques rather well, whether it's framing the shot for a perfect jump scare or lingering on a close-up of an actor's face for an uncomfortable length of time to build tension, the man is obviously a fan of the genre. Sholder would go on to direct A Nightmare on Elm Street 2, once again teaming with Alone in the Dark's producer Robert Shaye, but Sholder's career as a director seemed to fizzle afterward. His features post-Nightmare consisted of mostly B-movies that are even more forgotten than Alone in the Dark is.

Despite my rather glowing praise for this movie, it does have a few problems one could nitpick. While the film does try to go in an original direction, it still ends up back on the same road as many other horror films, falling back into the set of rules that Wes Craven would lampoon many years later in Scream. The black guy does indeed die first, you should never go near windows, and of course, sex most definitely equals death if you're a horny young couple looking to get it on. Alone in the Dark could have been just a tad scarier too. There are some rather nasty kills and the requisite amount of blood is spilled, but the truly frightening sequences are spaced out too far from one another. It should be noted that horror legend Tom Savini was brought in to work on a particularly gruesome apparition that appears in a dream sequence. I won't spoil it for you if you haven't seen the movie before, but trust me, this one scene is worth watching, even if the apparition does feel a shade out of place with the realistic take the film aims for. The climax is also a bit too convenient for all involved. Then again, the twisted ending does make up for it in my estimation.

And make no mistake, nobody will ever mistake the movie's time period for any other but the 1980's when you have a band like the Sic Fucks playing the 80's-tastic "Chop Up Your Mother".

Check out Alone in the Dark if you get the chance. I highly recommend it to any horror buff who enjoys a good slasher but has become jaded with the staleness of the genre over the years.

"Happy.... trails!"

4 / 5

REVIEW - Undefeatable (1993)

2011-09-07T02:59:00.000-04:00

Undefeatable

Hong Kong - 1993

Directed by - Godfrey Hall*

Starring - Cynthia Rothrock, John Miller, Don Niam, Donna Jason

Color - 95 Min - Rated R for violence and gore, sex and nudity, and profanity

I'm gonna give it away right at the start. Undefeatable does not earn a very high rating out of five for me (and I'm probably being generous with what I give it). So if the rating at the end of the review is all you really care about, then here it is. You can glance at it and quickly move on.

2 / 5

And for the rest of you, stick around and you can read my love letter to both the best/worst low-budget director of all time (take that, Corman!) and the most underrated, kickass female action star there ever was. See, here's the thing - I can't, in good conscience, give Undefeatable a high score just because I like it. It's not that great of an action movie on a technical level (although it might be one of the best, most coherent films in director Godfrey Ho's entire filmography - still, that's not saying much). Undefeatable also features quite a bit of questionable acting and an even more questionable storyline. Then there's the camera equipment and film stock used, which was obviously purchased on the cheap by Godfrey Ho and company, making the movie look like it was filmed sometime in the mid-80's instead of the mid-90's (well, knowing Godfrey...). It would be wrong of me to give it a really high score because, well, then what do I give to legitimately groundbreaking action movies like a Die Hard or a Predator if I ever get around to reviewing them? Obviously those kind of films are not on the same level as Undefeatable, right? Right?!

Regardless, all of its flaws don't stop me from enjoying Undefeatable and giving it my highest recommendation for fans of actionsploitation and/or goofy chop socky flicks. I used to always say there's no such thing as 'so bad it's good', but I really should cease with that nonsense, because movies like Undefeatable test that ethos to the extreme. It ticks all the right boxes for the action fan: Ass kicking main character(s)? Check. Psychotic baddie you totally want to see get his comeuppance and then some? Check. Cheesy as hell dialogue? "What? You don't like tea?" Whoops, I mean - Check! Slow motion shots of muscular beefstakes beating up kitchen tables in roid rage? Err... check?

There can be only one... mullet.

Kristi Jones (Cynthia Rothrock) is a troubled young lady. Not only is she part of a street gang, but she's also involved in illegal underground prize fights. Kristi's hope is that she can earn enough dough to put her younger sister Karen (Sunny David) through college. However, plain clothes cop Nick DiMarco (John Miller) is assigned to break up the street fighting racket and manages to arrest Kristi in the aftermath of a fight. Of course, he has no concrete evidence against Kristi, and the woman obviously knows the first rule of Fight Club, so Nick has no choice but to spring her. He vows to keep a close eye on her though...

This alone is enough to make a good recipe for a cheesy movie, but wait, there's more! Somewhere across town, super-mulleted kickboxer 'Stingray' (Don Niam) comes home after brutalizing some poor bastard in the ring and decides he's in the mood for a well done steak with a little wife raping on the side. No, really. He forces himself upon his wife Anna (Emille Davazac) while his steaks are sizzling on the stove. Because it wouldn't be a Godfrey Ho movie without a little rape thrown in there. Tastefully, of course. Nevertheless, at the advice of her therapist Jennifer (Donna Jason), Anna leaves Stingray's ass the very next day. Being a sound, reasonable individual, Stingray goes completely barmy-batshit- crazy and starts stalking women all over the city and kidnapping any who remotely look like his estranged wife, performing all manner of sick role-playing games while they're tied up in his basement (and not the D&D kind, either). When he tires of them, Stingray removes their eyes before mutilating the rest of the body and dumping it somewhere. Also - he spraypaints red lines in his permed coif for no apparent reason. I couldn't make this up if I tried.

Nick DiMarco on the left and his partner Sgt. Generico on the right.

Never fear though, because Nick DiMarco is on the case! I do find it mildly amusing that even though he's not doing one of his famous splice job movies, Godfrey Ho still has a difficult time bringing both plots together. Eventually, storyline A and storyline B finally manage to intersect about halfway through the movie when Stingray randomly bumps into Karen and mistakes her for Anna... you can see where this is heading. When Kristi's sister winds up dead, it's time for some revenge, Cynthia Rothrock style!

To be fair, John Miller is featured just as prominently in Undefeatable as a more than competent ass whooping machine of his own (albeit with a godawful haircut). But we all know Cynthia Rothrock is the real star of the show here (and I'm not just saying that because I'm friends with her on Facebook and even at 50-some years of age now she could still kick my ass - nosiree). If you're unfamiliar with Ms. Rothrock, the quick rundown: she's a five time World Karate Champion, has enough black belts to make the Cobra Kai gang red with envy, was the inspiration for Mortal Kombat's Sonya Blade, and has made a pretty decent career acting in non-mainstream action flicks, both in Hong Kong and the US of A. She's basically the female Chuck Norris, except even more hazardous to your health (with apologies to the tagline of Slaughter in San Francisco). Cynthia has an abundance of charisma, even when she's delivering painful lines like: "Poor baby Bear, playing with his mama's tupperwear." I think it's a damn shame nobody gave her a shot in a bigger budget A-list movie at some point, because I believe the chick could have done some damage.

Hey, guess what? I enrolled you in college!

People - and when I say 'people' I really mean 'the internet' - like to talk down on Godfrey Ho because he's an easy target. While it's true that many of his movies are incomprehensible messes, they still have a certain charm about them that a great chunk of B-movie directors are sorely lacking (there's plenty of soulless machines on the A-list too, but we won't go there today). Though it may be shocking to some, it came as little surprise to me to learn that the man has been teaching film students since his retirement from movie-making. Splice job movie or not, the guy knows how to get a dollar's worth of footage out of a dime. They should fly him into Hollywood right away so he can help stop these $50 million dollar summer blockbusters from going over budget like they inevitably do.

Though his 'style' of using gratutious amounts of slow motion and using the same shot multiple times is oft mocked, Godfrey Ho can shoot a damn good fight scene when he wants to. No, he doesn't do the visceral physicality and brutality of a Bourne style fight, but when it comes to over the top, chop socky fun, Godfrey's your man! This is no better evident than in Undefeatable, where Cynthia Rothrock has a battle with another street ganger in a room full of barrels. Not just in a room that happens to have barrels in it, but on top of the barrels. And apparently if one falls off of the barrels, he or she loses the contest. Why do this? Who on earth came up with these rules for street fights? I don't know, it's a Godfrey Ho movie. Shutup and enjoy watching the same slow motion kick to the face three times in a row. It gets better with each repeat, trust me.

Round 1. FIGHT!

Much has also been said about the final fight scene of Undefeatable, where Nick and Kristi face off against Stingray. Titles like "Worst fight scene ever" or "Lamest movie fight of all-time" have been bandied about all over the Net, but I really don't think it's that bad at all (you have all seen Riki-Oh, right?). Sure, it's cheesier than a six cheese quesadilla, but part of me feels as if the director was not so subtly lampooning your generic American action film in these scenes, especially in regards to how cavalier the hero and villain generally are in finding silly ways to dispose of their shirts so they can show off their brawny chest muscles (in Undefeatable's scene the good guy and bad guy just straight up tear their shirts off for some greasy man-on-man action). The manner in which Stingray finally gets it in the end is both creative and will have you cringing and cheering at the same time.

Bottom line. Keep an EYE out for this one. SEE ya!

* = Godfrey Ho was notorious for hiding under absolutely terrible pseudonyms like this one. As all B-movie nerds know, if you want to do a good job of hiding your identity, you should really pick something innocuous like 'Dan L. Simon'.

REVIEW - Bitch Slap (2009)

2011-09-04T20:31:00.000-04:00

Bitch Slap

USA - 2009

Directed by - Rick Jacobson

Starring - Julia Voth, Erin Cummings, America Olivo, Michael Hurst

Color - 109 Min - Rated R for brutal violence, strong sexual content and language throughout, and brief drug use

Appropriate title, Bitch Slap. That's exactly what I feel like doing to this movie after watching it. Well, if the movie was a physical entity that I actually could reach out and bitch slap, that is. Failing that, I'd settle for bitch slapping the taste out of the director's mouth. Better yet, can we get this guy in a boxing ring with Uwe Boll so I can watch the mad German tear him apart? That would be the only way I'd ever feel better about the time I spent watching the diabolically awful Bitch Slap.

So you think I'm being stereotypical angry internet dude who enjoys ranting and raving for comedic effect? I'm not. Bitch Slap is really that bad. I'm not writing this for chuckles, and I'm not going to jerk your chain like many alleged reviewers would do and say something trite like - "Oh, I'm writing this slop so that maybe, just maybe, I can help some poor soul out there by convincing them to avoid this movie." Seriously, that's ricockulous. No, I'm writing this for me. This is catharsis, pure and simple.

Umm... why yes, officer, of course we have a permit to shoot a shitty movie here!

The thing is, I wouldn't be half as irritated at Bitch Slap if I didn't know the story behind how director Rick Jacobson pitched his project to the masses before it was released (and I use 'released to the masses' loosely - this movie was released theatrically to a whopping 3 theaters). He claims, and I quote: "Bitch Slap is a post-modern, thinking man's throwback to the b-movie and exploitation films of the 1950's through 70's."

Digest that for a minute. A schlock movie... for the thinking man! 'Cause when you're up for watching a boobie flick, you wanna reflect on the meaning of life and consider world issues, doncha?!

As you may surmise from its title alone, there's nothing clever about Bitch Slap. Mr. Jacobson thus covers for the lack of intellectualism on offer by inserting a handful of utterly pretentious and out of place quotations from the likes of Sun Tzu at random intervals throughout the film's 109 minute runtime. He must figure any schlubb dumb enough to be enjoying the turgid display of celluloid must also be dumb enough to mistake haphazard lines from The Art of War as "Real schmart stuff, ayup!". Excuse me while I throw up in my mouth a little.

Hee hee! See how funny and clever we are?!

The story of Bitch Slap is fairly basic drive-in movie fare. You've got three girls, cutesy airhead Trixie (Julia Voth), fiery redhead Hel (Erin Cummings), and psycho bitch Camero (America Olivo), who head out to a desert wasteland to retrieve $200 million bucks worth of stolen diamonds from sleazy underworld figure Gage (Iolaus himself, Michael Hurst). Things quickly get out of hand, but before we can have any resolution we're forced to endure fifty million flashbacks to tell us how the story got to the point it's at now. You know? Like that annoying plot device they used in every single episode of the revived Battlestar Galactica? Yeah, just like that.

I'll get this out of the way now. Eagle eyes may have scanned the cast list and seen some of the leads from cult television shows Hercules: The Legendary Journeys and Xena: Warrior Princess. This may dupe some otherwise innocent fans into watching Bitch Slap just to see a 'reunion' of sorts. In that case, prepare to be disappointed. Kevin 'Hercules' Sorbo has an extremely small cameo appearance as the elusive Mr. Phoenix, but he never actually shares any screen time with Michael Hurst. On the other hand, Lucy Lawless and Renee O'Connor DO have a very short scene together as a couple of nuns. It's a cute play on the Xena/Gabrielle relationship, but it's not all that amusing or noteworthy.

Fuck the plot, gals - let's have a water fight instead!

One thing the viewer will immediately notice about Bitch Slap is the almost preposterous amount of greenscreen used. There's one physical location - the desert trailer park. Everything else is confined to a studio with rather poor backgrounds chroma keyed into the shot. I have no doubt the budget was rather limited on this movie, but when you have a finished product that actually looks worse than any local weather forecast on the tube, it's time to pack it up and go back to directing episodes of Baywatch Nights.

Then there's the leading ladies themselves. I can honestly say I've seen better out of actresses from mid-90's Skinemax flicks than the ladies of Bitch Slap. Of the three, Erin Cummings does the most respectable job (or rather, I have the least to bitch about from her). Then there's Julia Voth, who just grates on your nerves after about five minutes of her airheaded routine (and then makes you groan when she attempts to play hardass later on). And then we come to the real anti-star of the show, America Olivo, in one of the single worst performances I have ever seen in any movie - EVER. And I just watched a movie the other night called Vampire Cop, okay? I'm not bullshitting you here, folks. Nic Cage at his absolute nadir ain't got shit on Ms. Olivo in Bitch Slap.

Just wait til I get through with this movie...

What's so terrible about America Olivo, you ask? Besides the fact that she recites her lines like a sleepy 8th-grade acting class student? I'd say it's her facial expressions. She has absolutely no range whatsoever. Her character, Camero, is obviously supposed to be a crazy woman. The psycho bitch from Hell your momma always warned you about. Alas, poor America Olivo plays crazy about as well as Courtney Love plays sober. It's so clearly beyond her ability, I almost feel a twinge of embarrassment just watching her scenes. Almost.

Check this out. Here's a shot of Camero being angry.

In this scene, Camero is ENRAGED!

...and now she's just FURIOUS!

This scene finds Camero MADDENED!

And this scene sees Camero... doing her best Arnie as Conan impression?

I just realized I made it this far without even mentioning the dreadful dialogue yet. I'm of the opinion it was written by a semi-retarded, horny 13 year old.

"Open wide, psycho slut!"
"Lick my boob, skank twat!"

And there's plenty of other points of contention with Bitch Slap. The lame and easily telegraphed plot twists. The usage of split screens pulled directly from an episode of 24. The incredibly tame sex scene (yep, there's just the one) for a movie that seems oh-so-desperate to throw itself in with edgy cinema of days gone by. And furthermore, I realize this is entirely subjective, so maybe it's just me, but I don't find any of the women in this movie particularly attractive (or 'smoking hawt!' as the young'uns would say). You can BS about the thinking man's b-movie all you want, the drawing point here is to see hot babes in an action movie setting beat each other up and get sweaty and dirty, right? All the ladies of Bitch Slap have the anorexic skank look to me. Where's Misty Mundae when you need her?

I wish I could say this was just me screwing around in Photoshop, but nope, this really happens.

I do genuinely try to look for positives in every movie I review here, but with Bitch Slap it's like looking for gold in pig shit. Zoë Bell of Death Proof fame is credited with the job of stunt coordinator in Bitch Slap, so you may expect a few decent action set pieces or at the very least a watchable fight scene or two. Doesn't happen. An equal amount of weak fight choreography and piss poor camera angles combine to give the viewer some really bad fisticuffs action. Godfrey Ho could sleepwalk his way through a better fight scene than what you see in Bitch Slap, and I know that's quite a hefty proclamation, but it's true. I suppose if I force myself to come up with something this movie has going in its favor, the costumes and makeup design are pretty good. Heh. Yeah, that's it. And when have you ever watched a movie because the practical effects people know how to properly do a scar on an actor's face?

So I'll give Bitch Slap the half-star because it's not quite the most repugnant or poorly made piece of cinema I've ever seen (I reserve those 0's for special kinds of torture). But it comes damn close. Not recommended.

0.5 / 5

REVIEW - Danger: Diabolik (1968)

2011-08-31T14:55:00.000-04:00

Danger: Diabolik

Italy/France - 1968

Directed by - Mario Bava

Starring - John Phillip Law, Marisa Mell, Michel Piccoli, Adolfo Celi

Color - 105 Min - NR

Diabolik (John Phillip Law) is the world's greatest criminal mastermind. He's committed heist after cunning heist and the law are still no closer to catching him. The lovely Marisa Mell plays his girlfriend Eva, the Bonnie to Diabolik's Cylde. The duo live in pure opulence inside Diabolik's hideout, an underground lair so massive and absurd it makes Bruce Wayne's Bat-cave seem like a child's treehouse by comparison. After the spectacular robbery of a convoy of vehicles transporting a million bucks, the powers that be have had enough. While the government installs a temporary return to the death penalty for ANY criminal to dissuade Diabolik from striking again, Inspector Ginko (Michel Piccoli) sets out a more conventional bait for the master thief - a priceless emerald necklace to be worn by the Lady Clarke at a fancy gala for the rich and brainless. Meanwhile, mob boss Valmont (Adolfo Celi) is tired of Diabolik's antics, which has forced the government to clamp down on mob business too. While the police lay in wait for Diabolik, the mob has plans of their own for the daredevil rogue...

It's probably a safe bet that a large majority of cult movie fans are also fans of Mystery Science Theater 3000, the show that mocked many a celluloid atrocity. For the most part, I wholeheartedly agree with MST3k's choices of riffing material. Sure, here and there you'll find an episode featuring a movie you might have a soft spot for (for me: Deathstalker III and Escape 2000, aka Fuga dal Bronx), but for the most part one would agree that the movies the guys watched were not very good. At all. More importantly, they deserved to be poked fun at. So fret not, I won't suddenly be taking umbrage for The Giant Gila Monster or The Human Duplicators. No, there's only one movie selection they got wrong, and it's quite sad it happened to be the very last episode of the series. I speak of Danger: Diabolik, of course. There's some kind of irony there - MST3k riffing a decent movie on their swan song, but I'm not clever enough to figure it out for you. I'll say this though: MST3k went out with a whimper instead of a bang (Crow's song about 'meeting Delores for lunch' aside).

Noob Saibot goes for a Sunday drive.

Based on the Italian comic strip Diabolik, this film was once famously heralded as the most faithful comic book adaption of all-time. It's fair to say that director Mario Bava, having an artistic background himself, may well have embraced the comic book medium better than some contemporary directors of Marvel and DC inspired films have. The Diabolik comic has had a fair amount of influence on funny books over the years (Grant Morrison's Fantomex character pretty much *is* Diabolik re-imagined in the X-Men universe). Indeed, upon seeing the vivid colors of the film coupled with the ostentatious matte paintings used as backdrops, it almost appears to the viewer that the characters themselves have just stepped out of the pages of a comic and onto the screen. The film may have skimped ever so slightly on the amount of violence featured in the books, but otherwise Danger: Diabolik is proof positive that it is possible to bring a comic book to the big screen and still remain true to the source material.

For fans of Mario Bava, this is easily the most lavish of all his films. Producer Dino De Laurentiis afforded Bava with a then exorbitant budget of $3 million dollars, although ever the crafty tradesman, Bava came in well under-budget at just $400,000 smackeroos. Still, the more luxurious budget does show, not only in physical things like the sets and costuming (and a couple of very brief and befuddling animated sequences), but also with the casting of more high profile and respectable actors within European cinema. Leading man John Phillip Law was the hunky American action hero archetype used in many an Italian production in the 60's, and he plays the role of the sharp as nails criminal mastermind to perfection. Elsewhere, although he was still quite prolific in European films, Adolfo Celi's stock had risen considerably after he become known to a western audience as an actor capable of playing a contemptable villainous cad in both Thunderball and Von Ryan's Express just a few years prior, so it was something of a coup to land him in the role of Valmont. British actor Terry Thomas also shows up in Diabolik as the Minister of Interior (and later as the Minister of Finance), playing more or less the same character he played in It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (the upper class twit everyone loves to laugh at). Mario Bava went through a couple of actresses before finding the right Eva Kant. One glance at Marisa Mell is all you need to see that Bava made the right choice. Had she ever been cast as a Bond girl she may well have been more famous than Ursula Andress.

This looks fun, but I'll bet the papercuts afterward just aren't worth it.

A discussion of Diabolik can't go by without mentioning the fantastic score by Ennio Morricone. In terms of style, it couldn't be farther away from the famous spaghetti western scores by the Maestro, and yet despite how experimental the end result is, Diabolik's score is still so distinctively 'Ennio'. No other composer of the era would have the audacity or gall to mix such clashing styles of music, from jangly guitar to swooning symphonics to pure psychedelic acid trip (complete with mandatory sitar segment, a must in the 60's), nor would any composer have the serendipity to come away from it all with a classic soundtrack on his hands (a soundtrack so in-demand at one point, enthusiasts were paying in upwards of $100 a pop to get their hands on the bootleg). The title track, "Deep Down", sung by pop singer "Christy" is a deliciously dreamy slice of the 60's that we'll sadly never hear the likes of again (though Faith No More frontman Mike Patton did a damn fine cover of it on his latest solo album).

It's obvious I really like this film, but I'll be fair, it's not without faults. While I do give Mario Bava credit for being a creative director and finding ways to save money, he probably could have spent just a bit more on certain scenes. In order to escape pursuing police at one point, Diabolik sets up a trap on the road consisting of nothing more than a stretchy 'mirror' which supposedly fools the policemen into thinking another car is coming at them head-on (because all they see is the reflection of their own headlights). The finished effect is less than convincing, and it doesn't help that this movie partook in the irritating practice of day for night shots (which continued well into the 80's and even into the 90's on some lower budget pictures). And while you can't exactly fault the cast and crew on set for this, somebody has to take the blame for the sometimes bizarre mis-translations in the English dub of the film. The infamous "Is that stud... coming?" from the MST3k episode has been removed for the easier to comprehend "That must be stud.", but there's still a couple of dialogue clunkers intact. The best of these has to be Eva and Diabolik in his black Jag discussing the upcoming jewelry heist.

Diabolik: "Did you see Inspector Ginko?"

Eva: "No, I didn't see him."

Diabolik: "If you didn't see him... he's there."

Wha?

Hello, Benjamin.

Much could also be said about the 'hero' of the picture himself. Though the film portrays Diabolik as the cool, suave anti-hero up against ruthless mafioso types and bumbling policemen, if you stop to really consider things, Diabolik is kind of an asshole. He doesn't steal from the rich and give to the poor, he steals from the rich to make himself even richer. Judging by the lifestyle he and Eva lead, he doesn't need another red cent to live out the rest of his days in pure luxury, and yet still the man persists in thievery of millions upon millions of dollars. At one point he and Eva attend a press conference incognito, with the sole purpose of humiliating the Minister of Interior and all those attending by spreading laughing gas all over the place. This is the kind of stunt the Joker gets off on, and yet... our hero, Diabolik, ladies and gentlemen! Later, we see that Diabolik has no qualms about taking the lives of innocent security guards via throwing knives, nor does he have any compunction over killing police officers by forcing their vehicle off the edge of a cliff. Diabolik cements his reputation as a dirty, nasty heel after literally turning terrorist by blowing up financial institutions to increase the value of the gold he's planning on stealing. What a jerk!

And yet... you can't help but root for the guy. Truly, we are sick and depraved as a society. Great, isn't it?

Bow ties are cool.

There's a damn good reason Danger: Diabolik makes all the lists of 'must-see' cult movies compiled over the years, and the praise heaped upon the film as the most faithful comic book adaption of all-time is not just mere hyperbole. This is one heck of an entertaining movie, folks. If you like comic book movies, if you like over the top Eurospy flicks, if you think James Bond peaked in the 60's , hell, if you just like colorful caper or action movies period, you owe it to yourself to watch Danger: Diabolik. If you don't enjoy yourself you don't have a pulse (or a soul).

4.5 / 5

REVIEW - James Batman (1966)

2011-08-26T19:26:00.000-04:00

James Batman

Philippines - 1966

Directed by - Artemio Marquez

Starring - Dolphy, Boy Alano, Shirley Moreno, Ven Medina

B&W - 94 Min - NR

Long before Turkish cinema or Bollywood gained notoriety for their shameless, cheap, unauthorized rip-off movies based on cinema of the western world, there was the Philippines, and boy have they produced some humdingers in their time. One need look no further than James Batman for the proof of how brazen Filipino cinema could be. It's the only movie I'm aware of which features a buddy team-up of James Bond agent 007 and the Caped Crusader himself, Batman. Before I go any further, let's just sit back for a moment and reflect on the possibility this film presents us with. Batman. And James Bond. In the same fucking movie. Yeah, I got a boner from that idea, didn't you?

The story involves the insidious CLAW organization, a crime syndicate hell bent on world domination. CLAW gatecrashes a conference of goverment representatives and more or less tells the world they're going to hold them for ransom for one hundred billion dollars (/pinky to mouth). So concerned are the international big-wigs with CLAW's nefarious activities that they call in not only the world's greatest secret agent, but also the Dark Knight of Gotham. Damn. That's when you know you've got some credibility as a group of villains. If you threaten the world and the good guys call in Cody Banks and Shadowcat, then yeah, you're a laughing stock - but two A-list heroes like Batman and Bond? You've made the big time. You should buy a hollowed out volcano and celebrate.

Batman's new transmitter-in-a-fork allows him to quickly communicate with copyright attorneys.

Unfortunately, the movie doesn't exactly live up to its spectacular premise (really - how could it?). James Batman is more of a tongue-in-cheek spoof of both the old Batman television series starring Adam West and some of the more outlandish aspects of the early Bond movies. The leading man is Dolphy (aka Rodolfo V. Quizon), otherwise known as the undisputed king of Filipino comedy, who pulls a Peter Sellers by taking dual roles of both main characters. I'd never seen a Dolphy flick before now, but he comes across as a genuinely funny actor, excelling at slapstick and physical comedy, as well as the deadpan delivery. Instead of accentuating his main asset though, director Artemio Marquez seemed to want his film to be just as much an action movie as it is a spoof. Marquez's hamfisted technique and the extremely limited budget sadly let him down.

These action scenes, clearly an attempt of one-upmanship over the television series, are not only absurd, they're incredibly tepid. Watching both Adam West and Burt Ward jive around wiffing bad punches at Frank Gorshin and Cesar Romero worked because of the iconic score playing in the background, the liberal use of colorful onomatopoeia, and the fact that despite how silly things looked, the TV show actually had a fight choreographer around to supervise things. Watching Dolphy as Batman and Boy Alano as 'Rubin' flail around with three rejects from the Crazy 88 squad to out of tune Batman muzak? Not so much fun. The absolute worst part of all this is that these fight segments last an eternity, or what seems like an eternity. It feels like a good fifteen minutes or so could have been cut from this movie and it wouldn't have damaged anything.

Penguin Tai chi.

So does Mr. Kiss-Kiss Bang-Bang fare any better than Bats? Not particularly. Bond obviously gets more action with the ladies (including one scene that, if I didn't know any better, looked like it was borderline attempted rape), but instead of yawn inducing fight scenes, he gets betrayed by an attempted beach-side conquest and has to run from the Penguin and his goons whilst in the buff, culminating in a scene where a rubber centipede bites him on the ass. It's every bit as goofy as it sounds, although at least Dolphy is capable of eliciting a few chuckles with his wacky facial expressions.

Without question, Dolphy is what saves James Batman from being a total wash. He has some pretty good comedic chemistry brewing with his sidekick Rubin (why change Robin's name if you're blatantly going with James Bond and Batman as character names, by the way?), and of course, his interplay with himself is absolutely hilarious (both main characters are pulling a Bugs and Daffy routine for the first half of the film). One minor nitpick about the dual roles is that Batman does occasionally appear out of costume, making it momentarily confusing if the character is meant to be Bruce Wayne or James Bond (to be fair, they've saddled Bond with the most hideous suits possible in this film, whether by poor fashion sense or an intentional piece of comedy, none can say).

This never happened to the other fella...

Is it worth the trouble of tracking this somewhat rare film down? Eh... probably not. Even if you're that enamored with either one of the title characters, there are far better spoofs for you to seek out. And for the cult movie buffs out there this is an amusing curio, but nothing that will really set your world on fire.

2 / 5

REVIEW - Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972)

2011-08-22T20:48:00.001-04:00

Dracula A.D. 1972

UK - 1972

Directed by - Alan Gibson

Starring - Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Stephanie Beacham, Christopher Neame

Color - 96 Min - Rated PG

So I'm sitting around doing nothing special when, seemingly out of the blue, I build up the urge to watch an old Hammer horror film. With so many good choices in their back catalogue, which do I choose? 1958's Dracula, regarded in some circles as a better film than Universal's original? The Lovecraftian overtones of Quatermass and the Pit? Maybe one of the psychological thrillers like Maniac? Or do I go with a firm favorite of mine like Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed? No, of course not. Have you read this blog before? Obviously I'm going to pick the goofiest choice possible. Obviously I'm going to be watching Dracula A.D. 1972. Obviously.

"It was my will you watch this movie, mortal."

Actually, there are goofier choices to be made (Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires, anyone?), but Dracula A.D. 1972 was the start of a new and short-lived shift for the Hammer horrors as they ventured out of the period piece comfort zone and set their sights on more experimental films set in the contemporary, thus it's usually the film singled out as the 'beginning of the end' for Hammer Films. Personally, I don't see why it's so vilified. It's certainly not a classic by any stretch, but it's still a solidly entertaining horror romp with many of the staples from previous Hammer productions, save the gothic atmosphere of the Victorian/Edwardian era stories. It seems to me a lot of the fans were just agitated the studio had the audacity to try its hand at something new in the face of sagging grosses and studio-wide budget cuts. Although to be fair, the change in tone from the previous Dracula films to this one is quite jarring, especially if you were a fan watching them all in sequential order.

The story begins with an action filled prequel set in 1872, as Lawrence Van Helsing (Peter Cushing) and Count Dracula (Christopher Lee) battle atop an out of control horse-drawn carriage tearing through central London. The horses soon manage to break free of their tethers and the carriage suffers a violent crash, sending Van Helsing flying whilst Dracula is apparently buried beneath the carnage. Van Helsing, injured from the crash and on his last legs, drags himself over to the wrecked carriage only to see Dracula pull himself free. Oh, but what rotten luck for the master of the undead! One of the wooden carriage wheel spokes has broken into a conveniently shaped stake and has managed to impale Dracula right in his one weak spot! Karma's a bitch sometimes, eh Count? Van Helsing makes damn sure the stake stays put in his final act and both man and vampire die together. However, one of Dracula's minions, Alucard (hee hee - Alucard, get it?), arrives just in time to collect all of his master's ashes and the stake that killed him. Perhaps when the stars are right, Alucard (played by Christopher Neame) may be able to bring the vampire back from the eternal darkness...

Dracula, you say? Bitch, please.

The viewer is then violently brought forward one hundred years in time to swinging early 70's London, where a swank Michael Vickers theme tune that wouldn't be out of place in a blaxploitation flick lets us know that this is no ordinary Dracula film. The story now revolves around a group of hippie youngsters who like to party and don't know any better (in other words, the kind of kids Jason Voorhees would mutilate with a butcher knife in about fifteen minutes flat). The gang leader is a charismatic young man by the name of Johnny Alucard... hmm. Also involved in the group is Jessica Van Helsing (Stephanie Beacham), the granddaughter of the current vampire slayer, Abraham Van Helsing (Peter Cushing again). Johnny's quite jaded with the current scene of crashing parties and hanging around coffee bars, so he suggests a real 'far out' idea to his friends - a black mass. The rest of the youngsters take this suggestion to mean that they'll simply be hanging out with a bag of pot and a Ouija board, and thus readily agree, because they're too stupid to realize 'Alucard' is 'Dracula' backwards (hilariously, Van Helsing is seen at his desk later in the film actually making a diagram to point this out to viewers too dumb to realize themselves. Perhaps they just put it in for the Americans?).

Johnny turns out to be an ancestor to the Alucard we saw in 1872, and his black mass at an abandoned church is an attempt to bring his master back to Earth (in a plot point with some vague similarities to Taste the Blood of Dracula). The rest of the youngsters show up, get wasted on peyote, and do some chanting at Johnny's behest while he dances around the altar and calls out to Satan and every named demon you could think of. It's actually quite an intense scene, one of the highlights of the film, and it culminates in one of the girls, Laura (played by the sultry Caroline Munro), receiving a blood bath and, naturally, being sacrificed to the newly reborn Count Dracula (in quite possibly the most badass reveal shot ever).

Wait! That's not the cup of a carpenter!

The London police (Michael Coles as the unnamed Inspector and David Andrews as the also unnamed Detective Sergeant) discover the body of Laura the next morning, and soon enough resident esoteric expert Professor Abraham Van Helsing is brought in on the case, quite intrigued by the fact that poor Laura had been drained of her blood yet at the same time fairly mortified that his granddaughter was involved in some fashion. In the subsequent days, Jessica's friends are murdered one by one by the vampire lord and his minion in an effort to get to her. Dracula's plan ultimately involves a black wedding with Jessica, and if the vampire lord is successful, he will have his ultimate revenge on the Van Helsing family. A confrontation between Dracula and Professor Van Helsing is inevitable. But which one will survive?

No doubt the plots to the Dracula films were starting to get more and more far-fetched as the series went on, yet when you had two master thespians on set like Cushing and Lee, you were going to get a solid, serious, class-act performance out of both of them no matter how far-fetched or ridiculous your story was. As far as Dracula A.D. 1972 is concerned, it's the Peter Cushing show. He hoists what could otherwise be a very silly comedy onto his wiry shoulders and makes you believe every damn word that comes out of his mouth, such is the charisma and screen presence he had. Christopher Lee, growing ever more disillusioned with the Dracula part by this point in time, takes more of a backseat role in this film (though the scenes he does appear in are still gangbusters). Instead, young Christopher Neame as Alucard was pushed forward into the main villainous role for much of the film, and he does a fantastic job, especially in his confrontation with Van Helsing. Neame brings a vaguely Malcolm McDowell-esque quality to the film; indeed, the character of Johnny Alucard is in the same hemisphere as Alex from A Clockwork Orange, only Alucard is slightly more into Satan.

London was still quite a swinging place in 1972, so the film is very colorful, perhaps too much so for some horror buffs. A number of the interior shots, especially Alucard's lavish bachelor pad, wouldn't be out of place in an Austin Powers film some twenty-five years later. It's also quite odd to see Van Helsing dodging traffic in the heart of Chelsea whilst donning a tweed jacket and cardigan as opposed to him riding a horse and buggy wearing a frock coat. While I do agree that a scary movie should generally be dark and gloomy, I can also appreciate the change of pace director Alan Gibson was going for here. The level of 'groovy' is tempered somewhat by a number of great shots inside the interior of the abandoned cathedral where the Count is now making his home. Dracula is thankfully kept away from the gaudy multicolored lights and confined to mist-covered shadows.

I'll have your blood, Steve Davis!

While the film may fall just short of the high standards set in previous Dracula outings and suffers from the occasional cheesy scene, Dracula A.D. 1972 is still worth a watch if you're a horror fan in the mood for some grisly fun and games. Expect just a hint of camp heading in and you won't be too disappointed.

3.5 / 5

REVIEW - The Defender (2004)

2010-08-20T17:32:00.001-04:00

The Defender
UK / Germany / Romania - 2004
Directed by - Dolph Lundgren
Starring - Dolph Lundgren, Jerry Springer, Shakara Ledard, Thomas Lockyer
Color - 90 Min. - Rated R for language and violence

As I write this, Sylvester Stallone's The Expendables is the latest mega-budget actionsploitation flick to hit the big screens, but we here at A Fistful of Cult live in a realm of late night Chuck Norris movie marathons on television and, when we're lucky, the latest direct-to-DVD migraine starring Van Damme or Segal (or Treat Williams... seriously, I need another Substitute sequel already!). But wait, what's this? Something with a bit more promise than Belly of the Beast? An action star of yesteryear who still appears to be in good shape instead of a blubbery botoxed sweathog? That's right, folks. I present to you - Dolph Lundgren... The Defender!

Okay, calm down. I think in my squeeing over seeing Dolph again I might have built this one up too much. Yes, The Defender is marginally better than your typical direct-to-DVD action movie, but... that's not really saying a whole helluva lot. It's still plagued with the usual problems these type of films have to contend with - amateurish editing, bored looking second rate actors filling out the roles of the supporting cast, lackluster screenplays with underdeveloped characters and plot holes a-plenty, et al. The Defender might also come across as something of a vanity project if you look at the name of the director AND the top billed star, but that's not actually the case here. Sidney J. Furie (The IPCRESS File, Iron Eagle) was originally slated to direct this film, but unfortunately fell ill before production was underway, thus Dolph Lundgren himself was drafted in as a last minute replacement in the director's chair. It's hardly the way any aspiring director would like to make their debut, but I feel Dolph handled the movie pretty well all things considered. He certainly made tremendous use of the limited budget, because visually this film looks just as good as any Hollywood action flick from the mid-2000's. And hey, here's something The Defender has over The Expendables or any other major studio action movie nowadays - NO CGI BLOOD! Practical effects FTW!

Dolph is such a big dude he makes that pistol look like a kid's toy... which it probably is.

Ahem. The plot starts out fairly interesting - Dolph Lundgren is Special Agent Lance Rockford (any relation to Jim?), a war vet with the haunted past trope in charge of an elite team of agents tasked with protecting important dignitaries outside of the United States. In this instance, Rockford is providing security for Ambassador Jones (Caroline Lee-Johnson, who I remember as Janice from Chef!), a very important guest set to attend a very important peace conference in Budapest (slight problem here - two of our leads are actors from Europe pretending to be Americans... and their accents will occasionally slip). Complications arise when Jones reveals the true purpose of her visit to Romania is to meet with a mysterious leader from the Middle-East. The mystery man isn't identified, but the implication is clear enough: if anyone finds out U.S. officials met with him, it would result in dire consequences.

Okay, fair enough movie, I can buy that. Later we learn that the shadowy man is more or less a Bin Laden clone and the ambassador is there to negotiate the finances of a deal to make the terrorist leader go into hiding forever. The gist here being if any such leader were publically caught and put on trial or executed, he would become a martyr for his cause and this would only strengthen the resolve of the enemy. This film was made around the time of Saddam Hussein's capture and the beginning of his trial, so... could Dolph have some kind of a message for us here? Is there a deep political bent to this movie? Does he believe it would be better if Bin Laden remained a maniac in a cave instead of being brought to justice?

... No. The rug is soon pulled out from under us with a very silly attempt at a Robert Ludlum plot twist. The meeting with the extremist leader is revealed to be nothing more than a ruse with a body double designed to flush out a group of traitors within the United States government determined to undermine the President. The traitors send a sizeable force of mercenaries at Rockford and his own Wild Bunch at an abandoned hotel in Romania and The Defender now becomes a riff on a Carpenter 'defend the fortress' movie. If the plot sounds familiar, it's because you may have seen it as one of the main storylines from season two of 24. Naturally, this ill-advised twist in the story leaves a number of gaping holes in the plot and turns what could have been a thought-provoking espionage film into yet another dumb actioner. Well, that's what I came in for, so I suppose I shouldn't be too disappointed.

Dating Grace Jones drove me to this...

Ah yes, the action. If you like gunfights, you'll love The Defender. This movie is filled with gunfight after gunfight after gunfight, with an occasional break for Dolph to elbowsmash some poor bastard in the face or chuck a knife at someone's exposed jugular... then it's back to more shooting. There's a modicum of realism in the gun battles - our heroes actually take the time to reload instead of shooting six thousand bullets out of a pistol, but here's what I'm wondering: where the hell do they keep their ammo? This movie fires enough shots to make a Rambo flick blush, so I'm wondering if the good guys are keeping spare clips stashed in their undies or... somewhere else. You'd think the action scenes would be where Lundgren excels as a director, but he is unfortunately undermined by some sloppy editing, which relies on the old seizure-inducing quick cut routine so you can hardly keep track of who is killing who.

Normally I would have cracked a joke regarding the man playing the President of the United States in this movie about five paragraphs ago, but much to my chagrin, there's not a whole lot to joke about here. Television's own Jerry Springer plays the leader of the free world, and you would think this is a prime opportunity to see an actor way out of their element hamming it up like Shatner or Palance in a B-movie... sadly not the case here. Springer actually does a respectable job as a concerned, cigar-chomping President determined to salvage a failing administration. His character isn't that great, and he only has limited screentime, but Jerry looks pretty damn comfortable in all his scenes (years and years of being in front of television cameras will give you that confidence, I suppose). The raspberry award in this movie goes to model turned actress Shakara Ledard. Perhaps more the fault of the writer than the actress, Ledard's character Agent Kaye is decent at first, but she turns heel on Rockford's team towards the later half of the movie (and this is no spoiler, you'll figure out she's a traitor just by the way Dolph Lundgren gives her these lingering suspicious glances from time to time). The actress is just too damned cute to pull off any menace though, so the scenes where Ledard is trying to sneer and act like a badass become more laughable than anything else.

What did we learn today? THAT YOU FUCKED WITH THE WRONG PRESIDENT!!!

The Defender would be the first in an ongoing series of DVD-premiering cheapies directed by Lundgren, and it was certainly a nice comeback for the actor turned director after many years in the wilderness doing forgettable C-grade action films. I suppose there are worse ways to pass 90 minutes, but I'd still recommend giving The Defender a miss unless you're a huge Lundgren fan or you just have a hankering for direct-to-DVD action movie cheese. Hey, we've all been there.

2 / 5

REVIEW - Our Man Flint (1966)

2010-08-16T14:39:00.000-04:00

Our Man Flint

USA - 1966

Directed by - Daniel Mann

Starring - James Coburn, Lee J. Cobb, Gila Golan, Edward Mulhare

Color - 108 Min. - NR

Decades before Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery and its sequels were beating us over the head with the same tired jokes over and over again, there was Our Man Flint, the granddaddy of all spy spoofs. Produced at the height of spymania in the sweet, innocent pre-Vietnam mid-60's, Our Man Flint is a glib take on the James Bond franchise with a dashing American hero in place of the usual suave British agent. The film succeeds in areas where other spy spoofs of the 60's are a let down, namely, the brand of comedy on offer is a great deal more subtle and laid back than the over-the-top approach in films like Casino Royale or OK Connery. Flint also works just as well as a fantastical spy adventure story in its own right. Outlandish as the movie is, Our Man Flint could possibly be considered somewhat tame in comparison to the brightly colored autogyros, stratospheric Ken Adam sets, and spacecraft swallowing rockets featured in 1967's Bond picture, You Only Live Twice, which went into production shortly after Flint was released.

As you may well expect from a parody, the plot is fairly lean. A trio of mad scientists hellbent on turning the planet into their vision of Utopia have developed a device capable of altering the climate at will, causing rivers to flood, volcanoes to erupt, ice caps to melt, and so on. With the threat of an environmental disaster hanging over them (quick, somebody call Al Gore to do the documentary!), the governments of the world are held to ransom, but the Zonal Organization for World Intelligence and Espionage (ZOWIE... let the chuckles commence) are on the case. Unfortunately, security leaks on the inside have led to whole teams of agents being wiped out by the villains in their attempts to get close to the weather control device, and Britain's top man, 0008 (tee hee), is on another assignment, thus ZOWIE's supercomputer is put to good use, searching the databanks for the best suitable candidate outside the agency. Each search turns up the same name: ex-agent Derek Flint.

Can we say 'shit-eating'?

He was already a cool cat to begin with, so it's no surprise that James Coburn is at his most charming and entertaining in the role of Derek Flint, the world's most sought after secret agent. Flint is not only the most styled and sophisticated man this side of the guy in the Dos Equis commercials, he's a polymath to an absurd degree; a decorated soldier, an expert surgeon, a master of the martial arts, a culinary expert, a Russian ballet teacher... just to name a few of Flint's many overachieving exploits. Whereas Mr. Bond had to put just a bit of work in to pull women his way, the ladies simply flock to Flint, as evidenced by the harem of beauties he shares a penthouse with (prepare thyself for a heavy dose of sexism as only the 1960's could deliver... what Women's Movement?). Flint is also a gadget whiz, although he turns his nose up at the typical 'crude' Bond gadgets, preferring his own swish cigarette lighter featuring 82 different functions ("83 if you want to light a cigar.").

Lee J. Cobb (best known to cult fans for his turns in The Phantom Creeps at the outset of his career and The Exorcist in his twilight years) plays the part of Cramden, the constantly stressed chief of ZOWIE and Flint's boss. Cramden is the comedic foil for the majority of the film, his best intentions undermined by the smug, all-knowing Flint and the over sized Commissioner Gordon phone from which 'the President' often calls (a rather hilarous and accurate send-up of LBJ). Snickers also come from the excessive villany of Irish actor Edward Mulhare (he of Knight Rider and Secrets of the Unknown fame), who plays the continually sneering Malcolm Rodney, an officious, uppity, snide British snob looking to whack Flint at every opportunity.

Flint shows Bond who has the stronger pimp hand.

The film isn't perfect - it's almost entirely studio-bound, so there's nowhere near the same level of travelogue feeling you would have in a Bond picture (or some of the other, more high budget entries into the Eurospy field), and the direction of Daniel Mann is simply workmanlike, lacking the verve and artistry of a Terence Young or Guy Hamilton. And while they have few lines, some of Flint's girls are less than convincing actresses, the main love interest Gila Golan in particular seems to have a difficult time with some lines, English clearly not being her native language (Blatant Sexist Pig Remark: she will make any hot-blooded male's jaw drop when they see her in a red bikini though). The gloriously swinging, jazzy film score from Jerry Goldsmith makes up for some of the shortcomings. It's every bit as opulent as a classic John Barry score, and the 'danger theme' ("You're a Foolish Man, Mr. Flint") is as equally evocative as the Monty Norman staple from the Bond movies.

Undeniably dated, Our Man Flint still retains a certain groovy charm to it that will please the nostalgic spy fans out there. Worth tracking down if you've never seen the original spy spoofer.

4 / 5

REVIEW - The Navy vs. The Night Monsters (1966)

2010-08-09T18:58:00.000-04:00

The Navy vs. The Night Monsters

USA - 1966

Directed by - Michael A. Hoey

Starring - Mamie Van Doren, Anthony Eisley, Billy Gray, Bobby Van

Color - 87 Mins. - NR

Cheap and cheesy drive-in movie fare. Yep. That's about what I expected out of a picture entitled The Navy vs. The Night Monsters. It's not quite as terrible a movie as its somewhat dubious reputation or the exceptionally low IMDB rating for it suggests, but then again, it's not exactly an overlooked, forgotten classic either. I couldn't in good conscience recommend it to anyone except perverts like myself who might get a kick out of checking out Mamie Van Doren's... um... assets. I suppose if you're awake at 2:30 in the morning and feel like watching The Thing but can't find a copy to watch, you could always check out The Navy vs. The Night Monsters and try to fool your brain into thinking you're actually watching a better movie.

I must admit, with the amount of Blue Angels stock footage on display in this film, I was deeply terrified at the outset that it would turn out to be a propaganda piece for the U.S. Navy much like The Starfighters (the ultimate cure for insomnia) was for the Air Force. You know, it could have had narration along the lines of: "Join the Navy! Travel to exotic islands! Bag bleached blonde babes like Mamie Van Doren! Battle hideous creatures from H.P. Lovecraft tales! Only in the Navy!" This movie isn't nearly as dull as The Starfighters... well, that's not entirely true, but at least things do happen... eventually. Also to its advantage, The Navy vs. The Night Monsters doesn't feature any future U.S. Congressmen as part of the cast.

Helloooo nurse!

The plot goes something like this: a scientific expedition to Antarctica picks up some rare, prehistoric specimens in the ice and attempts to bring them back to the civilized world for further study. The plane carrying these specimens has to land at a Navy outpost in the Pacific to refuel, but after suddenly breaking radio contact with the control tower the plane crashes on the runway. The only survivor of the crash is the pilot, who has gone into a catatonic shock - the rest of the crew and the scientists have all mysteriously disappeared. Hmmm... well, at least the rare specimens survived the crash. Ahem.

What are these strange creatures then? The poster art, fabulous as it is, unfortunately gives the surprise away. It's a bunch of evil, acid-spitting midget trees who stalk about after the sun goes down looking for tasty human snacks to devour whole. Don't get too excited by the artwork though, the Dark Young of Shub-Niggurath these trees are not. The vile acid trees don't look too bad at first glance, mostly because the shots of them are fleeting and at night amid copses of mundane prop trees wheeled onto the set. However, the less is more approach is completely abandoned during the final act as the trees are revealed in plain sight and... oh man, I've seen more convincing tinfoil monsters in Doctor Who (the mutated maggots from 'The Green Death' look better than these damn trees). As if it couldn't get any worse, the final glimpse we get of the 'night monsters' is during broad daylight, where the viewer gets a full monty of shitty looking prehistoric plant monsters.

"Ya know, I coulda had a part in Day of the Triffids if I had a better agent."

The decision to include such infamous shots like the army of night monsters in broad daylight came from the very top - executive producer Jack Broder, who quarreled with director and original screenwriter Michael A. Hoey from day one of production. Hoey wanted a more serious and subtle movie, with only brief glimpses of the beasties in between stretches of cabin fever from the Navy officers holed up in their base. The finished product retains a scant amount of the tension that Hoey was presumably aiming for, the best example being the dramatic plane crash early on (editor George White does a pretty spiffy job of intertwining stock footage of a real plane crash into this sequence without it seeming out of place). However, producer Broder had his sights on a quick cash-in all along, ordering the name of the film to be changed from the original title, The Night Crawlers, to the much more pulpy, 1950's sounding The Navy vs. The Night Monsters. When Mr. Hoey refused to play ball with the wholesale changes to the movie, Broder then brought in two additional uncredited directors, Arthur C. Pierce and Jon Hall, to shoot additional scenes of the monsters creeping around and some unnecessary dialogue scenes.

Those long, meandering, and downright insipid dialogue scenes are perhaps just as much to blame for this film's failings as the unconvincing monsters - there's a good twenty to twenty-five minutes of padding where people sit around just talking and talking and talking about what they might do about these terrible night monsters, and sometimes these people are wholly tangential to the rest of the movie (the Admiral and his chronies, for instance, sit around Navy HQ on the mainland blathering about the situation on the island to themselves). There's also a romantic sub-plot that goes absolutely nowhere. Actually, it starts out as something of a love triangle, but the guy playing the third wheel just completely loses interest in Mamie Van Doren's character about forty minutes into the movie and never even looks twice at her again. And the less said about Bobby Van's attempts at humor, the better. Clearly the cast of this film took their paychecks and ran, nobody really looks all that invested in their characters (I especially love seeing the vacant, bored expression on Walter Sande's face during the final shots of the movie).

The Navy vs. The Night Monsters was recently released on DVD for the first time, but the print is absolutely atrocious. We're talking Manos levels of faded graininess here. Bad sound, streaks on the screen, you name it - this DVD print has it. If you're truly that much of a fan that you must own this film as part of your collection, there are still superior VHS versions available at bargain basement prices.

1.5 / 5

REVIEW - Friday the 13th (2009)

2009-10-24T19:40:00.005-04:00

Friday the 13th
USA - 2009
Directed by - Marcus Nispel
Starring - Jared Padalecki, Danielle Panabaker, Amanda Righetti, Travis Van Winkle
Color - 97 Mins - Rated R for strong bloody violence, some graphic sexual content, nudity, language and drug material

Michael Bay's production company continues to pump out these remakes of classic horror movies at an efficient assembly line speed. In 2003 we had a wholly inferior remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Two years later we were tortured by an abysmal recreation of The Amityville Horror. 2007 saw an updated version of The Hitcher hit the big screens - generally awful despite a shining performance from Sean Bean as the sadistic villain. In between all that we had a prequel to Texas Chainsaw, dubbed The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning - perhaps the worst big budget horror film I've ever laid eyes on. And next year, Bay's company will churn out a modern version of A Nightmare on Elm Street, the first Freddy movie without horror icon Robert Englund as the nightmare inducing killer. Not sure what the masses think of this, but after watching the trailer, I'm not very optimistic.

All this is to say that the track record didn't exactly bode well for the reimagining of Friday the 13th. Yet despite the odds being firmly stacked against it, this film is surprisingly watchable. In fact, on a technical level it might actually be a better movie than the original Friday the 13th (although the original has this one trumped when it comes to actually being scary and having something of a social statement to make). That's not to say this is anywhere near a great movie, but if its goal was to recreate a Jason Voorhees movie that speaks to a young new millennium audience, I suppose Michael Bay and director Marcus Nispel (the former music video director who helmed 2003's Texas Chainsaw Massacre, also the latest name attached to the remake of Conan the Barbarian) have succeeded.

The film plays out much like a 'greatest hits' of the first four Friday films from the 80's. For instance, many of the death scenes seem to have been cherry-picked from those originals - you'll see the various party-hungry college kids killed off with an arrow to the eye (similar to the spear gun in Part III - one of my favorite Jason kills ever), a machete to the head (much like Ted in Part IV), or by taking a screwdriver in the jugular (again Part IV, that hitchhiker who takes one in the neck). Diehard fans may be disappointed that the Pamela Voorhees plot has been condensed into a short introductory scene, but that blow is somewhat softened by Jason dropping his paper bag disguise in favor of the iconic hockey mask in record time (something that took almost three whole movies to materialize back in the 80's). There are many more acknowledgements to the original series for fans to pick up on - Steve Jablonsky's score, while very dark and industrial-tinged, actually incorporates a few cues from Harry Manfredini's score to the original Friday the 13th, so you'll at least get to hear an occasional "chi-chi-chi-cha-cha-cha" whilst Jason hides in the foliage waiting to spring out on an unsuspecting victim.

The story is about what you'd expect from a slasher-in-the-woods type of movie: you have a group of pot smoking and sex starved teens on a weekend getaway at *cue dramatic music* Camp Crystal Lake. At the same time, we're introduced to Clay (Jared Padalecki), who is searching for his missing sister, Whitney (Amanda Righetti), who went camping around the lake six weeks ago and hasn't been heard from since. Clay is pretty much the only likeable character in the whole movie. The other campers are made out to be obnoxious or annoying or downright assholish, so that their inevitable death scenes are more of a comeuppance than anything to be fearful of. A great number of slasher films would rather play to the black comedy genre than flat-out horror, so I don't really have a problem with this. If you're looking for something genuinely scary though, stay far away from Friday the 13th (any of them, not just this remake).

But what of the masked man himself? Jason has yet to become the hulking undead super-zombie in this film, so a leaner, more athletic performer was required. That performer is Derek Mears, the latest in a line of stuntmen-actors to portray Jason Voorhees on the big screen. Although Jason is still a terribly deformed and mentally unstable person, he seems to have a modicum of intelligence about him, at the very least a primal survival instinct. Several scenes suggest that Jason has survived all these years by living off the land. He knows how to build deathly traps. He now stalks his victims with a bit more guile and cunning as opposed to just mindlessly chasing them (although the film is still guilty of at least one Jason 'magic teleport' kill towards the end, unfortunately). At one point he even wounds one of the dopey kids and leaves him out as bait to draw the others to him. There's definitely some First Blood influence in this movie, and perhaps just a hint of Jack Ketchum's Cover, especially in regards to the underdeveloped sub-plot of farmers growing a marijuana crop in the woods.

Where 2009's Friday the 13th fails slightly is in the humor department. If you'll pardon the pun, these films have always had a slightly campy air about them, and there's usually one or two comic relief characters capable of eliciting a few chuckles. The attempted humor in this film seems to focus on Lawrence (Arlen Escarpeta), a young black guy who goes out of his way to NOT be the 'stereotypical black guy' in a horror movie, but fails miserably. It's very much like the self-referential humor in a Scream movie, although I was under the impression screenwriters Damian Shannon and Mark Swift were desperately trying to avoid those tropes. The only true laugh-out-loud moments in Friday are had whenever Trent (Travis Van Winkle) utters one of his atrocious one-liners. The character turns what could have been a tantalizing sex scene into a parody by saying: "Your tits... are stupendous!" about halfway through. Yeah. It only gets worse from there...

The film pays homage to the original by throwing in a surprise jump scare at the tail end, but it just doesn't have the same kind of shock value to be as shit-your-pants scary as Jason leaping out of the lake was back in 1980. It does, however, set up a sequel. Given the gross revenue this movie has raked in during its theatrical run and on DVD, we're definitely going to see a second Friday before too long, though I believe the introduction of a Tommy Jarvis character is essential if this new series is to warrant any sustained interest from its audience.

If you're a fan of Jason or the slasher genre in general, Friday the 13th might be worth a shot, so long as you go in with the right frame of mind. Expect some decent popcorn entertainment, nothing more.

3 / 5

REVIEW - White Zombie (1932)

2009-10-02T00:51:00.006-04:00

White Zombie
USA - 1932
Directed by - Victor Halperin
Starring - Bela Lugosi, Madge Bellamy, Joseph Cawthorn, Robert Frazer
B&W - 69 Min. - Unrated

Difficult film to review, White Zombie. It occupies a strange, purgatory-like middle ground: it deserves its status as a 'classic', and it's certainly essential viewing for any would-be horror buffs, and yet... White Zombie is not all that scary, nor is it a truly outstanding movie, even for its time. It runs the gamut in terms of performances, from Bela Lugosi's outstanding turn as the villainous "Murder" Legendre to the breathtakingly awful hero of the day played by John Harron. Even the direction is inconsistent; going through its paces in a very pedestrian manner in certain scenes while at other times turning into a wonderfully weird homage to German Expressionist films (rumors persist that director Victor Halperin quit this film before completion, which resulted in Bela Lugosi himself directing a chunk of the movie, although which parts were directed by whom we may never know...).

The story concerns a young couple in Haiti, Neil (John Harron) and Madeleine (Madge Bellamy), who wish to be married. Their friend Mr. Beaumont (Robert Frazer) invites them to his plantation for the ceremony. However, the scheming Beaumont actually wants Madeleine for himself, and is willing to sink to any level to get her. He turns to the local Voodoo shaman, "Murder" Legendre (Bela Lugosi), who cooks up a twisted plot to place Madeleine in Beaumont's thrall - they will fake her demise by turning her into a zombie, wait for the bereaved Neil to leave, then revive Madeleine so Beaumont can work his charms on her. Beaumont fails to realize that he's dealing with Bela F'N Lugosi though, who quickly renegs on their dark deal. Legendre has his own sinister plans for the lovely Madeleine...

Filmed shortly after his major breakthrough performance in Dracula (and not long before he became typecast in these sort of movies and was relegated to Hollywood has-been status), Bela Lugosi was at the top of his game during the filming of this picture (which he did for a whopping $800). In fact, some claim Lugosi's portrayal of Legendre is even better than his turn as the Count. Personally, I'm not part of that crowd, but I can see where those fans are coming from (For what it's worth, I reckon this is Bela's third-best performance, just behind Dracula and his role as Ygor in Son of Frankenstein.). Lugosi certainly looks like a devil of a man in White Zombie, playing to his strengths (his thick accent, the piercing eyes that could bore a hole in a man's skull) while also playing up Legendre's grotesqueness - notice his claw-like hands as he tries to clutch a glass of wine, or his slow, menacing gait whenever he walks. They don't make bad guys like this anymore.

Screw you, Bauhaus. I'll NEVER die!

The remainder of the cast is a mixed bag, to say the least. The most notorious is John Harron, who is surely one of the least appealing heroic male love interests in the history of cinema - how Madge Bellamy's character fell in love with the dipshit Neil is beyond me. To be fair to Harron, who sadly died young before the end of the 30's after he came down with meningitis, the bulk of his film career was in silent pictures. He seemed to be one of the many silent era actors who never got the hang of the talkies. Robert Frazer is another cast member who goes a bit over the top in terms of performance, although this embellishment can be somewhat forgiven for a semi-villainous character such as Beaumont. Madge Bellamy has little relevant dialogue; she is used mostly as eye candy instead (although I think her china doll look went out of style in the 20's). Yes, White Zombie has the expected amount of sexism on display for a 1930's film, so contemporary viewers should keep that in mind.

Things liven up when Dr. Bruner (Joseph Cawthorn) comes into the picture, the knowledgeable missionary who does the brunt of the thinking whilst Neil frets and gets drunk (unconvincingly). Clarence Muse has a small role as Neil and Madeleine's carriage driver at the beginning of the film, and with just a few well-placed lines of dialogue turns in the second-best performance of the film behind Lugosi. Frederick Peters has a silent role as one of Legendre's zombie bodyguards, revealed to viewers for the first time with a slow foot-to-head pan that will startle the unexpected. Even without gobs of makeup on, Peters is still ten times scarier than any modern-day 'rotten flesh' zombie, and he does it all by simply screwing up his eyes and failing to groom his bushy werewolf facial hair.

A word on the zombies of this film, then. White Zombie is usually regarded as the first-ever zombie movie, although there is some debate on this subject. I think we can agree that it is the oldest surviving zombie movie, at any rate. However, these zombies have little in common with the mindless cannibals as seen in modern horror movies. Instead, these zombies tie in closely with their Afro-Caribbean origins - they are unfeeling, unemotional mutes under the spell of a sorcerer who will use them as slave labor. One of White Zombie's most enduring images is the scene inside Legendre's sugar mill showing his spaced-out charges toiling away, their physical bodies breaking down under the constant strain of backbreaking labor but their minds untouched by the torture.

Some of the techniques utilized in White Zombie were certainly ahead of their time. Wipes and dissolves are painfully simple to do nowadays, any chucklehead with a Youtube account can do them, but in '32 it must have been a headache and a half to insert them into the film. White Zombie even features a wipe into a split-screen at one point - probably not very impressive if you've ever watched an episode of 24, where you can regularly view ten different split-screens at once, but it's truly remarkable to see the technique used in a film from this era, especially an independent feature with a smaller budget than a studio-backed effort.

Also of note are the elaborate sets, skillfully decorated with a grim, gothic sense of style. The set decoration, along with the noticable, yet well-crafted, painted backdrops adds to the atmosphere of the film. At least part of the budget went into the cost of the sets, which were reportedly rented from Universal Studios for a hefty fee.

Newcomers to the classic age of horror films may find White Zombie hard to watch. It has a much more leisurely pace than many of the other 'essential' films of the era (30's classics such as The Mummy, Murders in the Rue Morgue, or the aforementioned Bride of Frankenstein and Dracula), which is saying something for a film that doesn't even break the 70 minute mark. One may wish to view White Zombie as a silent film with additional bonus dialogue instead of trying to follow along with the sometimes jarring deliveries from certain members of the cast. Simply observing the actors' physical performances may well improve your overall appreciation of the picture.

3 / 5

REVIEW - Punisher: War Zone (2008)

2009-09-29T18:50:00.002-04:00

Punisher: War Zone

USA/Canada/Germany - 2008

Directed by - Lexi Alexander

Starring - Ray Stevenson, Dominic West, Doug Hutchison, Colin Salmon

Color - 103 Min. - Rated R for pervasive strong brutal violence, language and some drug use

Despite all the negative press, Punisher: War Zone was a film I knew I wanted to see eventually. I've never followed the comics obsessively or anything, but I would consider myself to be at least a mildly addicted fan of the character (I collected many of the books before the big mid-90's decline, and picked up the series here and there after the comeback), so naturally I'm interested in any film versions that have cropped up over the years. 1989's The Punisher, starring Dolph Lundgren as Frank Castle, was a pretty decent 80's action movie. There were a number of changes made from the original comic book version that I was able to deal with, but I thought they should have at least included the skull t-shirt at some point (I've never understood the aversion to the skull - it's the Punisher's goddamn trademark outfit. Leaving it out is like leaving the big 'S' off of Superman's attire.). 2004's remake of the same film, featuring Thomas Jane as Castle, was an even worse deviation from the comics than the '89 film. I thought it worked quite well as a Death Wish styled revenger flick actually, but they may as well have changed the name of the film and all the character names to something else, because there was precious little soul or style from the Punisher books to be found (aside from Frank interacting with his neighbors, maybe). Frank Castle is no detective, nor is he a weepy alcoholic, nor should he have a haircut like a model from The Gap, and most importantly - quit fucking up the Punisher's origin story! Much like Bruce Wayne, Frank Castle is the victim of a completely random crime that could have happened to anybody out there. Castle's family should not have been killed off because of him putting the squeeze on mob bosses, because that almost implies that it's entirely his fault for not placing his wife and kids into protective custody.

Ahem. Fortunately, for the geeky, basement dwelling comic book dweeb in me, Punisher: War Zone nails the character completely. The origin is spot on (and mercifully shown in very brief flashback snippets - I think the world has origin story fatigue right now), the character has the correct outfit, Ray Stevenson looks and sounds and mercilessly kills like the Punisher, and most, if not all of the supporting cast of characters have also been lifted directly from either the Marvel Knights or the MAX series of Punisher comics. In other words, this is probably as close as you're going to get to a straight adaption of the comic series. Hardcore fans should be delighted with War Zone.

However, a faithful adaption doesn't necessarily make for a good movie, right? So what's the deal? Were the critics wrong about War Zone, or is it really as poor as they claim?

Yes and no. Obviously it's not one of the great movies, but War Zone is nowhere near as terrible as the media made it out to be (I feel like I'm saying that quite often here - I wish the masses and I were in total agreement once in awhile). That said, I can see why they turned away in disgust from this film (and it has nothing to do with the copious amounts of blood on display, either). My feeling is that the press were probably all spoiled by how spectactular The Dark Knight was (and Iron Man, to a lesser degree), and now have unrealistic expectations that every comic book based film should reach those dizzy heights. Punisher: War Zone is almost the anthesis of The Dark Knight in every way. Whereas Dark Knight is a bleak, intelligent, and dare I say - pretentious movie that takes place in a very realistic looking world (Chicago and Hong Kong), War Zone is a loud, gory, pulpy crime thriller laced with dark humor and over-the-top action poses that takes place in a seedy, neon-bathed city that in no way resembles the world as we know it. It's one of the most gloriously 'comic booky' movies I've ever seen, and that isn't to say it will only appeal to 13 year old boys looking for cheap thrills. If you have a quirky taste in film and you go into War Zone with the right mindset, you'll enjoy yourself immensely.

The plot is simple and straightforward, only taking brief respites before continuing to hurtle forwards to an explosive conclusion. Frank Castle (Ray Stevenson) is the Punisher, a vigilante who 'punishes' criminals by blowing their goddamn brains out without compassion or compunction. Although wanted by the law for murder after murder, Castle does have certain members of the police on his side, such as Detective Martin Soap (Dash Mihok), who informs Castle of the whereabouts of mob boss Billy Russoti (Dominic West). Castle raids Russoti's hideout, taking out half of his crew and seriously injuring Russoti in the process. Unfortunately for Castle, he also accidentally shoots and kills an undercover FBI agent who was gathering evidence against Russoti. Torn up by the guilt of killing 'one of the good guys', Castle considers leaving his gig as the Punisher and skipping town, but his armorer Micro (Wayne Knight) gives Castle the bad news: Russoti survived the assault. Badly scarred and mutilated, Russoti now refers to himself as 'Jigsaw'. Micro is convinced that Jigsaw will eventually go after the murdered FBI agent's family for revenge unless Castle does something about it. One last job then... Castle and his motley crew of allies versus Jigsaw and an army of gangbangers and hoodlums.

War Zone has a pretty good cast. Stevenson is without question the best of the three silver screen Punishers we've had. As I said before, he not only looks the part, but he has the nuances down too. When he's in the field he's a cold, sadistic killer who punches crook's faces in and snaps necks without a moment's hesitation, but Stevenson still shows a hidden humanity underneath during the breaks in the action - such as his interactions with a little girl who discovers a trove of toys belonging to Castle's late daughter, or his visit to the Catholic church he once ministered at a lifetime ago. On the other side of the street, Dom West is absolutely hamming it up as Jigsaw, in a performance that vaguely channels Jack Nicholson as the Joker. Jigsaw is a cruel, cruel bastard, but he's also quite funny, throwing in plenty of grim one-liners and ample amounts of gallows humor. Elsewhere, Colin Salmon turns in a respectable performance as FBI agent Paul Budiansky, although I had a hard time buying Salmon's New York accent - his smooth Bethnal Green tones kept slipping through at the most inopportune moments.

This is a film overflowing with gallons and gallons of fake blood and gibs, although it must be said, the violence is not in the gross-out, torture porn style. The kills are somewhat reminiscent of a Friday the 13th slasher movie - in other words, they're often over the top and goofy, and the cringe-inducing one-liners that follow some of the death scenes will appeal to those inclined towards black comedy ("Oh God, now I have brains splattered all over me!" Soap exclaims after Frank offs an armed mugger at the film's conclusion). The sheer amount of gunfighting, bad CGI explosions, and Steven Seagal-esque kung-fu carnage only adds to the actionsploitation nature of the movie, or should I say... comicsploitation?

Yes, War Zone has flaws aplenty - it's too short, there's virtually no character development, Michael Wandmacher's powerful and dynamic original score is marred by the jarring inclusion of nu-metal bands like Seether and Hatebreed, and the camera work and editing can get a bit too flashy for its own good at times - but these are flaws easily overlooked if you're in the mood for a schlocky live-action cartoon with nonstop high-octane action. For Punisher fans and for action addicts, Punisher: War Zone is a treat.

3.5 / 5

REVIEW - In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale (2007)

2009-09-23T12:06:00.004-04:00

In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale
Germany/Canada/USA - 2007
Directed by - Uwe Boll
Starring - Jason Statham, Leelee Sobieski, John Rhys-Davies, Ron Perlman
Color - 127 Min. - Rated PG-13 for intense battle sequences

Let's get something straight - Uwe Boll's movies are not nearly as bad as the morlocks hiding in Web forums would have you believe. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying films like Postal or BloodRayne or Alone in the Dark are particularly good movies, but they certainly aren't the Z-movie trash some detractors would have you believe (many of whom I suspect haven't actually watched anything more than the trailer for the movie they're bashing). Yes, the great majority of any Boll movie is plagued with Edward D. Wood levels of filmmaking faux pas - weird editing, continuity problems, hammy acting, insipid dialogue, the list goes on. In some cases, the absurd and over-the-top climactic battle in House of the Dead for instance, I begin to question whether Boll is actually filming his projects in such a schlocky, goofy, utterly ludicrous manner intentionally, as if he's the only one in on the joke, but that's another discussion entirely. My point here is, while Boll's movies might be awful (shockingly so at times), they are certainly not 'WORST MOVIE EVARRR!' material (You want a genuine 'worst movie ever' candidate? I direct you to Brad Jones' video review of Black Devil Doll From Hell).

Of course, if that opening statement has you prepared for an against the grain postitive review of In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale, prepare to be disappointed (obviously you've not been paying much attention to what a contrary bastard I am). The film is far from great - at best, it's an inept Lord of the Rings knock-off, marginally better than a Sci-Fi Channel movie of the week (or ScyFy, or however the hell they're inappropriately spelling out that damn channel nowadays). The plot is paper-thin (and even then it's riddled with holes), the casting decisions are kooky, a mixture of A-listers, B-listers, and television actors that don't always mesh that well together, and the attempt at a swelling, majestic score during the battle scenes backfires miserably (not even the presence of my favorite German power metal band during the closing credits could elevate this movie to a higher level for me).

In the Name of the King's main character is a simple turnip farmer named... Farmer (Jason Statham). I'm not sure what's more alarming - Statham's ridiculous character name, or that his boy of about eight or nine years has just now cottoned on to the fact that his father has a stupid name and decides to question his mother about it (her response is a completely underwhelming spew of exposition that will only confuse you). At any rate, Farmer is tending to his fields one day when the Krug show up and begin raiding the local village. The Krug will be your Orc rip-offs throughout the movie, although their mud-spattered padded armor looks more like something from the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers television series than the cool black armor donned by the armies of Saruman the White in Peter Jackson's epic. The Krug are commanded by the evil spell-slinger Gallian (a comically miscast Ray Liotta, who may well have out-hammed Jeremy Irons in Dungeons & Dragons with this performance), whose aspirations include bedding the daughter of the King's court wizard and wiping out all life on earth. A man of simple tastes, then. During the course of the Krug raid, Farmer is aided by village buddies Bastian and Norick (Will Sanderson and Ron Perlman, respectively), but unfortunately Farmer's son is killed by one of Gallian's Ringwraith-type creatures and his wife is taken as a prisoner along with some of the other villagers. Needless to say, Farmer is beyond pissed at this turn of events (if Statham's perma-scowl that he has in every movie he's in is anything to go by).

It's not long before King Konreid (I shit you not - Burt Reynolds, in a transcendant performance that tows the line between godawful and sublime) and his soldiers come to the village to enlist any able-bodied men to help fight Gallian and the Krug, rescue the good citizens held prisoner, and rid the land of evil - blah, blah blah. Merick (John Rhys-Davies), the king's magus, recognizes that there's something special about Farmer, but Farmer will have none of it and ventures off on his own private revenge mission (and let me just say, if you can't figure out INSTANTLY that the 'big surprise' plot twist is that Farmer is actually a long-lost heir to the throne, you obviously did not receive a passing grade in Epic Fantasy Cliches 101). Later, a wrench is thrown in King Konreid's plans to fight the Krug when his slovenly nephew, Duke Fallow (Matthew Lillard), betrays him by making an underhanded deal with Gallian that leaves Konreid poisoned and on the brink of death.

Much has been said about Matthew Lillard's performance in this movie. The modish opinion seems to be that his turn as Duke Fallow is the absolute worst part of In the Name of the King; that his mad gurning and grinning throughout each of his scenes was so terrible that it actually caused folks to walk out of the theater in disgust. I happen to disagree with the majority here (surprise, surprise...) - I think Lillard is the best thing this movie has going for it, and I mean that with all sincerity. Oh sure, he's yakking it up during his screen time, channelling his inner Dungeon Master and chewing the scenery on a level that puts him in the same league as Shatner, Palance, or Walken... but that's what's so great about the performance. He actually looks and sounds like he's having the time of his life with the character (whilst all of the other big-name actors are obviously there for the big payday coupled with a short shooting schedule that makes doing an Uwe Boll movie enticing - they look bored, jaded, uninterested - and with a script this lousy, I can't say I really blame them, but still...). I can honestly say I wish there were a few more Lillard scenes in this movie.

That's probably the nicest thing I can say about In the Name of the King. It has a few other positives in the eye candy department: the CG effects are nice, the abundance of fog machines certainly adds to the atmosphere, the photography in British Columbia is very pretty to look at, and the set decoration is more than suitable for a fantasy story... other than that, the film is a dud. There's at least three or four excruciatingly long, drawn-out battle scenes between humans and Krugs that will test the patience of even the most hardcore of action junkies. The featured players are such superheroes that you never once feel as if they're in jeopardy as they mindlessly tear through enemy after enemy (although perhaps that's the point - given that this is supposed to be based on a video game, however loosely), and the actual swordplay is just... inane. To his credit, it looks as if Boll tried to spice things up by employing veteran action choreographer Siu-Tung Ching as a second unit director, and there are little moments where the over-the-top Hong Kong style works really well (Jason Statham somersaulting into the air and literally walking on the heads of Krug opponents to get to the big bad controlling the evil army is one example), but for the most part the chopsocky action seems very out of place in this apparent medieval fantasy world (although I have to admit, I was doubled with laughter when King Konreid unleashed a batallion of NINJAS to face the Krug... perhaps the ultimate 'What the fuck?' moment in this film).

If you've seen every highly regarded fantasy film and you're in desperate need of a new one to watch... I would suggest you just wait until The Hobbit is released (or, ya know, pick up a fantasy book instead). I can't really recommend In the Name of the King to anyone except Boll fans (yes, they are out there, although I'm certain they've seen this multiple times and probably own the Blu-ray director's cut by now) or big fans of a particular actor in the cast morbidly curious to see their favorite star slumming it in a lowbrow pastiche.

1.5 / 5

REVIEW - Red Sun (1971)

2009-09-19T10:45:00.002-04:00

Red Sun

France/Italy/Spain - 1971

Directed by - Terence Young

Starring - Charles Bronson, Ursula Andress, Toshirô Mifune, Alain Delon

Color - 112 Min. - Rated PG

Ever wondered what would happen if you paired up a gunslinger from The Magnificent Seven with one of the sword-wielding warriors from Seven Samurai? The result is Red Sun (aka Soleil rouge), a spaghetti western cum martial arts flick notable for its multinational ensemble including American action star Charles Bronson, Japan's Toshirô Mifune, Frenchman Alain Delon, and Swiss beauty Ursula Andress. Filmed in Spain with a mixed French and Italian crew, the project was helmed by British director Terence Young, who had achieved dizzy heights after being behind the camera on the first two Bond films, Dr. No and From Russia With Love (and the fourth Bond, Thunderball, a few years later). Given its star-studded roster, there was obviously some high expectations for Red Sun to perform well, and while it did bank a considerable amount around the globe, it failed to become a hit in the American box office, fading into semi-obscurity as the years went by.

Red Sun is essentially a buddy team-up story, bringing together the charismatic yet rugged outlaw Link (Bronson) with Kuroda (Mifune), a stoic samurai in the service of the first Japanese ambassador to the United States. The duo are tasked with retrieving a gift from the Emperor of Japan to the U.S. President, an exotic, ceremonial sword stolen by cold-hearted dandy (and Link's former partner) Gauche (Delon). Link and Kuroda eventually find their way to Gauche through his lover Cristina (Andress), a conniving, opportunistic hellcat only out for herself. By the film's climax the four will have to briefly get along with one another in order to survive an onslaught from a tribe of war-like Comanches. After that... all bets are off as to who will kill who first.

Not so sure about that 'stache, Chuck.

Really, it's not hard to see why Red Sun didn't become one of the all-time great western films. It's a very enjoyable watch, especially for those who already consider themselves fans of the genre, but sadly it's a movie filled with frustrating missed opportunities. While he was able to direct a more than competent western, Terence Young really has nothing to add to the genre, resulting in many by-the-numbers action sequences and long stretches of the two leads traveling across the desert with no dialogue or plot developments in sight (although Henri Alekan's photography of the Spanish landscapes is quite beautiful to behold, it doesn't do anything to help the pace of the film). The script is also a problem - while it initially provides the viewer with an interesting set-up, the story craps out by the third act, pitting the heroes against a band of 'savage' Native Americans who are about as poorly stereotyped as they were on something like F-Troop (speaking gibberish rather than anything even closely resembling a native tongue). Another disappointment is the score, so often an essential element in those westerns regarded as classics. Academy Award winner Maurice Jarre (Lawrence of Arabia, A Passage to India) provides an uneven, sometimes wildly inappropriate musical backdrop, with a main theme that desperately wants to be Elmer Bernstein's famous cue from The Magnificent Seven.

If you're wondering why this east-meets-west in the Old West premise sounds vaguely familiar, it could be that you're thinking of Shanghai Noon, 2000's Jackie Chan/Owen Wilson vehicle that should more or less be considered a loose remake or even a spoof of Red Sun, albeit with a Chinese character instead of a Japanese one. Although not a total comedy as Shanghai Noon was, Red Sun still provides a few laughs, drawing some unlikely humor out of both leads as they inevitably resist their pairing together for the first half of the film by fighting and bickering before finally discovering that the Japanese samurai and the Old West desperadoes have more in common than they initially thought. The brief comedic turns might be of particular interest to Charles Bronson fans used to his sullen, revenge-seeking characters in films like Death Wish or Once Upon a Time in the West - old Stoneface is actually pretty damn funny in Red Sun. It's unfortunate Bronson only had a scant few opportunities to express this rarely seen side of his personality throughout his career.

It's not polite to drool, gentlemen.

The other male principals are great - Mifune is a class act as always, even when he's hamming it up in an Arizona whorehouse or throwing out one-liners, he seems totally believable as a deadly warrior who would rather commit hara kiri if he fails to retrieve the prized sword rather than lose the favor of his master and become a rōnin. Likewise, the "French James Dean" Alain Delon is a highlight as the elegant brute Gauche, who is more than willing to draw his pistol and shoot several of his outlaw cohorts in the back rather than share any spoils with them. Less compelling is Ursula Andress as Cristina, although this is more a fault of the script than the actress herself. Cristina's motivations are never clearly identified, and it's difficult to determine what her character and Gauche see in each other, especially considering how selfish they both are.

Ultimately, Red Sun will appeal to those who get a kick out of the eastern philosophy versus western crudeness culture clashes seen in David Carradine's Kung-Fu series, in addition to action fans turned on by the unlikely combination of samurai swords and gunplay in the same bloody arena. Worth watching, even if it isn't the masterpiece it could well have been.

3 / 5

REVIEW - King Kong Escapes (1967)

2009-09-15T18:43:00.008-04:00

King Kong Escapes
Japan - 1967
Directed by - Ishirō Honda
Starring - Rhodes Reason, Akira Takarada, Linda Miller, Mie Hama
Color - 104 Min. - Rated G

Five years after the success of King Kong vs. Godzilla, Toho teamed up with Rankin/Bass to produce a second kaiju Kong movie, King Kong Escapes. This film was based on The King Kong Show, a 1966 Rankin/Bass animated series that featured the gigantic ape as a hero battling against the minions of the evil Dr. Who (no relation to the Time Lord). It's not often you see a cartoon show turn into a live-action movie, and when it does actually happen... well, have you seen Brendan Fraser in Dudley Do-Right? Fortunately, King Kong Escapes works just as well, if not better, than its animated counterpart. It's a fun mixture of typical kaiju giant monster action, 60's science-fiction comic books, and spymania films (Mie Hama, who plays Kissy Suzuki in You Only Live Twice, has a part as the femme fatale Madame X).

The story of King Kong Escapes centers on the fiendish mad scientist Dr. Who and his attempts to obtain a rare, but highly radioactive element in the Antarctic (creatively titled 'Element X') for his employers from an unnamed Asian country. Normal methods of digging or drilling are out of the question, so Who and his lackeys build a robotic version of the famed, mythological beast known as King Kong and dub him... Mechani-Kong! Dr. Who sends Mechani-Kong to dig for the element, but unforeseen magnetic waves short circuit the mechanical monster, forcing the not-so-good Doctor to rearrange his plans. After the crew of a U.N. submarine discover the real Kong on Mondo Island and the story hits newspapers across the globe, Who decides the only sensible thing to do is to capture the real Kong and hypnotize him into digging up Element X. Unfortunately, it's not long before Kong shakes off the effects of the spell, and all hell promptly breaks loose. There's only one thing for it - Dr. Who must reactivate Mechani-Kong and take down the real McCoy... or die trying.

Okay, so the plot is utterly ludicrous, but what do you expect? It's a giant monster movie based on a cartoon for kids!

Being a Toho production, King Kong Escapes was blessed by the presence of many of the behind the scenes players from previous kaiju films, including Ishirō Honda, who directed the original 1954 version of Godzilla and at least a dozen more giant monster movies throughout the 60's and 70's, so you're pretty much getting the Spielberg of kaiju with this film. Joining Honda was legendary composer Akira Ifukube, who provided another spectacular score, and Eiji Tsuburaya, the special effects director responsible for all the swish sci-fi elements seen on-screen. Some of the effects are almost laughably bad by today's standards (the very noticeable blue screen when Kong's giant hand grabs Linda Miller is the first thing that springs to mind), although that said, at least there's no flat, hundred million dollar CG effects that completely take you out of the movie (yes, I'm talking to you, Peter Jackson). Also on set was Haruo Nakajima, considered by a great many fans to be the best giant monster actor there ever was. Haruo's deliberate movements and his surprising agility during the fight scenes really help sell the audience on the idea that King Kong is a 140 foot tall beast rampaging through Tokyo and not just a regular guy in a cheap suit stomping around a model set.

Speaking of the suit, Kong's appearance in King Kong Escapes has divided fans for many years now. Some believe he looks much better than he did in the previous Toho outing, King Kong vs. Godzilla, while others claim the Kong suit in Escapes almost ruined the movie for them. Personally, I'm in the middle - I don't think it's terrible, nor do I think that highly of it. You can see the folds and spot the zipper if you're staring at the screen just looking for it, but for the most part the director and editor did a fine job hiding any major goofs. The mask is a tad strange at first, what with Kong's bulging eyes and his mouth constantly hanging open as if he were high on paint thinner, but I quickly got used to it. On the other hand, I can't find much wrong with the design on Mechani-Kong at all. He's a very hip looking robot, and I'm disappointed he has yet to reappear in another Toho kaiju flick.

There are a few problems though, chief among them - the acting. For every Eisei Amamoto, who chews the scenery like Liberace's evil cousin as Dr. Who, there's a Rhodes Reason, who is supposed to be the heroic male lead, but comes across as wooden and jaded in his performance (he also gets owned by the meek Dr. Who after just a single karate chop - pathetic). And for every Mie Hama, who provides the eye candy of the movie (and, considering her character's eventual betrayal of the villain, is probably the real hero), there's a Linda Miller, who... well, if anything is going to turn you off in King Kong Escapes, it will probably be her. I can accept the fact that she's completely bland looking (especially in comparison to the original scream queen Fay Wray), but for some inexplicable reason the filmmakers decided to dub Miller's own voice with Julie Bennett, a woman who provided voices for cartoon characters. The voice for Miller's character is, without a shadow of a doubt, the most annoying thing - EVER! Why the great ape would ever be smitten with such a shrill sounding wench is beyond me. I was reaching for the mute button every time her character screamed - "Kooooooooooong!!!!". Ugh. So very irritating. It is mostly for this reason that I suggest you seek out a copy of the Japanese version (Kingu Kongu no gyakushû) with English subs instead of springing for the US version. Not only are omitted scenes restored to help make the plot just a tiny bit more sensible, but the Japanese voices are infinitely more tolerable.

Regardless of which version you watch though, if you can accept a few lackluster performances (and a fair amount of hokey dialogue), King Kong Escapes is a pleasant hour and a half diversion for both kids and adults. Sadly, this would be the last hurrah for Toho's Kong, as the studio would run into difficulties securing the rights to the character when trying to make a third Kong-related film (which eventually morphed into 1991's Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah).

3 / 5

LIST - The Worst Buddy Cop Films of All Time

2009-09-12T11:38:00.002-04:00

Sidney Poitier and Rod Steiger. Mel Gibson and Danny Glover. Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy. You won't find any of them here.

05. Deadly Impact (1984)

As much as I enjoy b-movie trash, especially Italian made b-movie trash, Deadly Impact is a real chore to sit through until the end. Bo Svenson and Fred Williamson, who were in The Inglorious Bastards together, should have at least a little chemistry between them, but both actors look bored to tears in this film. Even the action scenes, which are all very badly shot and edited, have a languid, sleepy quality about them. If you can't even film a decent fistfight, I think it's time to pack up and go home.

The other major problem with Deadly Impact: its plot hinges on our buddy pairing taking down an evil computer hacker who programs slot machines in Vegas to pay out at certain times. NEWSFLASH: Slot machines REALLY ARE pre-programmed to pay out small portions of their take at random times, you fucking goons.

04. Double Team (1997)

Technically this isn't a cop movie - an obviously strung out on coke Jean Claude Van Damme plays a counter-terrorist agent and his wacky, offbeat buddy is a weapons dealer played by... *sigh* Dennis Rodman, but the format is more or less exactly the same as a cops-and-robbers flick. Besides, Double Team's tagline is "They don't play by the rules!", so if the heroes can be stinky cheaters, I can too.

And, well... do I really need to say anything further about Double Team? I mean, there's no intelligent way for me to describe to you the horrors of watching Dennis Rodman pathetically attempt to be an action star. Listening to his ghastly one-liners alone is enough to make you want to stick your head in an oven.

03. Cop and a Half (1993)

Ah yes... let's turn the straight-laced white cop meets smartass street-smart black cop formula on its head by making the black cop A KID!!! Genius!!!

I often wonder how the kid from Cop and a Half, Norman D. Golden II, is doing from time to time. Okay, I'm lying, I never really think about it, but I should. He would be about my age by now. Like a great many child stars, Norman had a few more appearances in front of the camera before promptly dropping off the face of the planet as soon as his voice became deeper and his cute kiddy looks started to fade. Poor bastard is probably sitting on a curb somewhere as I type this, at the wrong end of a cheap bottle of bottom-shelf wine.

02. National Security (2003)

We shouldn't be too hard on Martin Lawrence. After all, he's been in so many blockbuster movies like What's the Worst That Could Happen?, Black Knight, Big Momma's House... wait, how does this idiot have a career?

Believe it or not, National Security may well be Martin's nadir. I know he was paid for his work and all, but the fact that he willingly recited his lines in front of the camera without once turning to the director and saying: "Seriously?" tells me he must have thought this drek was actually amusing. The attempted humor is anything but amusing though; it's nasty, insidious, and does everything it can to degenerate all the progress made in the United States during the Civil Rights Movement. In a nutshell, wedged in between pointless chase scenes and primative cop movie cliches, National Security's message is thus: all black people openly hate whites, all whites secretly hate blacks, and that any interracial relationship is inherently wrong and the people involved in said relationship are stupid, ignorant berks who have failed to realize what an evil, evil taboo it is to be with someone of a different skin color.

01. Theodore Rex (1995)

Just look at that poster.

Then tell me what is more ridiculous. The dinosaur cop dressed in regular street clothes, or Whoppi Goldberg being cast as "the toughest cop in the world"?

If you haven't flushed the 90 minutes it takes to watch this film down the toilet before, you may think I'm being unfairly harsh on what seems like an innocent comedy aimed at a younger audience, so just to be fair I'll say this: Theodore Rex is not actually the worst film you'll ever see (believe it or not). But as far as buddy cops go, watching Whoppi and a fake dinosaur is almost as bad as gazing directly into a black hole: if you're lucky you'll just run away screaming, if you're not you'll go batshit crazy and kill yourself. Here's the kicker: the dinosaur actually OUT-ACTS Whoppi Goldberg.

REVIEW - Land of the Dead (2005)

2009-09-10T13:18:00.005-04:00

Land of the Dead
Canada/France/USA - 2005

Directed by - George A. Romero

Starring - Simon Baker, Asia Argento, John Leguizamo, Dennis Hopper

Color - 93 Min. - Rated R for pervasive strong violence and gore, language, brief sexuality and some drug use

I was more than a little skeptical when I learned that George Romero was dusting off his highly regarded Living Dead film series to make a fourth installment some twenty years after the third episode (1985's Day of the Dead) was completed. Sure, the fanboy in me was quietly excited by the prospect of a new Living Dead film in a post-28 Days Later world, but the director sure had a lot to live up to here. Would he still have the magic touch (a pertinent question after the lukewarm reception to 2000's Bruiser)? Was there anything relevant for Romero to say with this movie? Most importantly, was he still capable of scaring the audience with his ability to conjure dark atmospheres and that overwhelming sense of impending doom pervading throughout Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, and Day of the Dead?

My answers came soon enough. Really, I should learn to stop getting my hopes up for these sort of things.

Leaving the theater after seeing Land of the Dead for the first time, I had a blank expression stuck on my face. I didn't think it was a terrible movie exactly, but I wasn't very enthused about what I had just seen either. As I ruminated on the film further, I became confused. For some reason, Land of the Dead had propagated a number of fairly favorable reviews from the critics, many of whom are usually quite curmudgeonly and unreceptive when it comes to genre pictures. What could they have possibly seen in this movie that I completely missed out on?

Pretty soon we'll have a 'zombie chic' clothing line at The Gap.

I've watched Land of the Dead a few times since then, and with each viewing it hammers home my opinion that the newspaper and magazine critics know jack and shit when it comes to what makes a good genre film, especially in the horror field. It's probably not fair to call Land of the Dead one of the really bad movies, after all, most of the cast does a pretty decent job with what they were given to work with, the production values are excellent, it's well shot at times (the zombies rising up from the river is a gorgeous piece of eye candy), and the gorehounds will love it - there's a borderline farcical amount of guts and dismemberment on offer throughout (check out the unrated version of the film for the optimal bloodletting experience).

The plot is slightly unfocused, comprised mostly of vague sub-plots rather than any sensible overarching story. The 'base under siege' gist of damn-near every zombie film is still essentially there though: the living dead are closing in on the city of Pittsburgh, where a corrupt feudal government has come to power. The penniless peasants must defend the streets whilst the silver spoons sip champagne in their pleasant gated community and watch the world burn. Its an awfully goofy setting for Romero to use, and watching Dennis Hopper ham it up as the villainous Kaufman, iron-fisted ruler of the city, you can clearly see Romero is throwing a wafer thin send-up of George W. Bush and his administration at us (and I'm not reaching here either, it's pretty much confirmed by the commentary track on the DVD, and there's that line of dialogue about 'not negotiating with terrorists'). I'm not really a fan of watching films for a 'message' - I prefer to be entertained by the movies, yet I will readily conceed that Romero's knock on the evils of shallow consumerism in Dawn of the Dead works quite well because it's subtle. Yes, the allegories are in plain sight, but the director doesn't beat you over the head with them. Romero takes a polar approach in Land, bludgeoning the viewer senseless with so much mindless Hollywood elite left-wing propaganda that even the Ralph Nader's of this world would tell the director to simmer down a little bit.

A noticable lack of brooding atmosphere denies Land of the Dead the opportunity to actually be frightening. Instead, the director opted for a repeated chorus of explosions, gunfights, and those not-very-scary-at-all jump cuts where you're supposed to think it's only a gust of wind when - oh no! A zombie leaps out from the shadows and bites an unfortunate victim. If you didn't know this was a Romero project ahead of time, you could be forgiven for mistaking Land of the Dead for a direct-to-DVD action movie, such is its cursory, artificial feeling. It has more in common with the big studio remakes of Dawn and Day than any of the original Romero trilogy, and even then I'd say that those remakes are marginally better than Land. At least they tried to make the audience feel a smidge of pathos for the panic-striken survivors desperately clinging onto life.

Rabid fans of The Mentalist attempt to get Simon Baker's autograph.

And that is perhaps the biggest sin of all in Land of the Dead - Romero attempting to make us feel sympathy for the zombies over the humans. As Simon Baker's character Riley says - "They're just looking for a place to go. Like us." Oh, give me a flippin' break, George. Are these meant to be the same mass murdering swines who ripped apart countless innocents, who laid waste to entire burgs and burroughs, who devoured the still-quivering remains of defenseless children? And now we're meant to feel pity for them?! Of course, you can only rehash the same ideas so many times before it loses its luster, so I can't hold it against Romero for attempting to shake things up a bit and renew interest in the genre, but I get the impression he didn't think all of his ideas through before tossing them into the movie. The simple premise of US versus THEM should never have been forsaken though. There's simply no way for any of us, save perhaps one or two real-life cannibals out there, to empathize with a legion of shambling undead.

The worst examples of ham-fisted ideas can be found in the lead zombie, Big Daddy (Eugene Clark), who I'm guessing was meant to be this film's own version of Bub from Day of the Dead. No explaination is given for it, yet somehow Big Daddy starts to learn things and begins teaching them to his cohorts, like how to use a gun or how to swim, despite the fact that he and his zombie pals are brain dead. This pretty much destroys most of the movie for me - suspension of disbelief is one thing, but I don't subscribe to the notion that I need to check my brain at the door in order to enjoy certain movies (zombies with guns? That's about as dumb as removing Freddy Krueger's claw and giving him a bazooka instead). And what exactly compelled George Romero to give Big Daddy a voice? The scariest thing about a zombie is their deathly silence. Big Daddy's howls and gutteral cries make no sense anyway - the guy is dead, he has no air in his lungs. Producing sound should be an impossibility.

Obviously, fan opinions are divided on this film. It certainly doesn't generate the same kind of across-the-board negative reaction received by the subsequent Living Dead episode, Diary of the Dead, but for many viewers Land of the Dead was the beginning of a major downward spiral for the series. When my favorite parts of the movie are cute cameos by Tom Savini and Simon Pegg, or counting down the time between the scenes of Asia Argento in fishnet (super hot, by the way), then I'm fairly certain this is not the entertaining or engaging experience I was hoping for. If you're craving a Romero fix, I'd stick with the original trilogy over this one.

1.5 / 5

REVIEW - The Ugly (1997)

2009-09-05T18:20:00.004-04:00

The Ugly
New Zealand - 1997

Directed by - Scott Reynolds

Starring - Paolo Rotondo, Rebecca Hobbs, Roy Ward, Vanessa Byrnes

Color - 93 Mins - Rated R for gruesome gory murders, language and a scene of sexuality

The Ugly is the umpteenth thriller I've seen that exploits the 'psychiatrist trying to make a connection with a serial killer' gimmick, but it's still worth a watch (or two) despite the obvious influences it sometimes apes. Think of it as a mish-mash of Silence of the Lambs and Se7en with a garnish of Psycho on top... and Kiwi accents. I first saw it about eight years ago thanks to an ex-girlfriend's VHS copy and to this day I still occasionally (and randomly) recall some of the striking imagry from the film, so it obviously made an impression on me.

Dr. Karen Schumaker (Hobbs) is sent to an asylum to determine if Simon Cartwright (Rotondo), a serial killer who dubs himself 'The Ugly', is fit enough to stand trial for his crimes. Karen is fascinated with Simon's erratic killing sprees - he has no pattern, no rhyme or reason to any of the victims he chooses. Simon has killed men and women, young and old alike, and not all have been executed with the same method. In other words, Simon doesn't fit the profile of a typical serial murderer, he seems to enjoy killing just for the sake of it. As Karen probes deeper into Simon's mind though, she discovers something far more sinister may be driving Simon to take lives...

The Ugly has been a semi-cult favorite among certain Internet circles for a number of years now, although many professional reviews were less than kind at the time of the film's release. Said critics balked at what they thought was an unbelievable story with unlikely characters and also called foul on what was considered to be an incomprehensible third act to the film. I feel most of these critiques are slightly unjust. One must remember going into this film that the majority (if not all) of it takes place within the head of a deranged, possibly demon-possessed killer, so you shouldn't expect all the normal rules of logic to apply. For instance, the asylum in which much of the film is set is a complete farce - no real institution for the mentally ill would have debris lying around the place, blood stains on the wall, and a pair of rough-'n-tumble orderlies who look more like roadies for Slayer than nurses there to help the sick. Even the doctor who runs the place, Dr. Marlowe (Ward), has the shifty eyes and countenance of a man who isn't entirely there. It seems like the crazies have actually taken over the asylum, which lends credence to the theory that the story to The Ugly is taking place within Simon's tortured mind.

The effects used in this film are hit-and-miss to some extent. Reynolds uses a lot of rapid-fire editing techniques, I suppose in an effort to disorient the viewer and keep them guessing if what they're seeing is a true fact of the case or simply another illusion, but they do become a slight distraction from time to time. This will obviously be a turn-off for many who prefer a more straightforward approach, but for others it may be an attraction, inviting them to watch the film again to pick up on the small nuances they may have missed the first time around. Much more discussed is the use of black, crude oil looking blood instead of the usual gush of crimson you'd see in any other slasher film. I feel this was probably an artistic choice (to try and make the flashbacks of Simon's kills seem all the more surreal), and coupled with the repeated use of certain color patterns (a deep, dark red paired with a light, sterile blue), gives the film a very stylish, novel appearance that makes me believe the director and his DoP had a definite vision for this project worked out well ahead of time.

Admittedly, The Ugly does leave something to be desired in the acting department at times. The supporting roles are decent (fun fact: many of the actors in this film had small parts in episodes of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys or Xena: Warrior Princess, both of which were filmed in New Zealand), but this is a film that relies so heavily on the leads, and while Paolo Rotondo does have a hint of the quiet creepiness that Anthony Perkins used to play Norman Bates, he also comes across in some scenes as too monotone and unemotional to be a horrible serial killing bastard. That, and he's a bit of a pretty boy too, which only takes away from his potential menace (seriously, Rotondo could be a body double for European porn actor Backey Jakic, which... probably just shows that I know too much about hardcore skin flicks. Oh well.) As for the other lead, Rebecca Hobbs' character starts out as a strong-willed professional (if Clarice Starling were from New Zealand...), but by the time she works out Simon's terrible secret, she's gibbering and screaming and being so unbelievably shrill that you have to wonder why the director didn't try to reel the performance in a little bit ("You can still act scared or fearful without completely draining this scene of its tension with that obnoxious overacting, love.") The only truly solid performance throughout is that of Roy Ward as Dr. Murdock (the Chilton role, essentially), although I suppose if you really wanted to nitpick you could accuse him of chewing the scenery a bit too much in his limited screen time.

On the whole though, The Ugly is an enjoyable 90 minutes or so for those who like a creepy thriller. Just watch out for those accents. They can be quite... entrancing.

3 / 5

LIST - Top Twenty Animated Television Series

2009-09-02T12:05:00.001-04:00

Another fairly self-explanatory list, eh? My favorite cartoons, because deep down, I'm still a kid at heart.

I suppose I should just fan the flames ahead of time: my list does not include either The Simpsons or Family Guy. Shocking, right? As far as I'm concerned, The Simpsons peaked in the early-to-mid 90's, and Family Guy, a fairly obvious ripoff of The Simpsons, has no idea what a plot is, relying on nothing but nonsensical flashback gags to get through a half-hour episode. I concede that I can appreciate some of the obscure references Family Guy makes at times, but I have to wonder if the college frat crowd drawn to the show's blue humor even remotely understands what the writers are going on about.

Well, now that I've provoked scores of pitchfork-wielding fans into leaving flame comments and death threats, let's get this list going!

20. Conan the Adventurer (1992-1994, 64 episodes, Jetlag/Sunbow)

I admit, Conan probably makes the list based on nostalgia factor alone. As I got older, I started getting into Robert E. Howard's writing, and I now realize just how... 'kid-friendly' the creators of this show made the original grim barbarian out to be. I suppose they had to. It's not like you could do a cartoon version of The Frost-Giant's Daughter for instance, what with the hero trudging across a frozen wasteland intending to rape a fair maiden, but I digress... Conan the Adventurer is actually a decent fantasy/sword and sorcery cartoon series, much more palatable to my tastes than something like He-Man or the godawful Dungeons & Dragons (and I'm a huge D&D freak, but... Bobby the barbarian? Seriously?). Some of the episodes were somewhat edgy for a pre-teen cartoon series, and the theme song kicked ass: "Conan! The Adventurer! Conan! Warrior without fear!"

19. Wacky Races (1969-1970, 17 episodes, Hanna-Barbera)

I caught Wacky Races in reruns at an impressionable age and it has stuck with me ever since (I even had a cat named Muttley at one point). The show is notable for having an exceptionally large regular cast of characters, some of which would then go on to star in their own spin-off series. The comedy still elicits a good chuckle out of me, even though I've seen the episodes multiple times over the years. I especially enjoy the interactions between the racers and the narrator, frequently breaking the fourth wall to speak to the audience. My favorite car? The Mean Machine #00 with Dick Dastardly and Muttley, of course.

18. Gargoyles (1994-1997, 78 episodes, Disney)

Internet geeks (like myself) often like to give Disney a hard time for being... well, for being Disney, I guess. Here then is some validation for the usually kid-friendly brand: Gargoyles. A surprisingly mature cartoon that, while it was aimed at young adults, refused to insult the intelligence of the youngsters watching the series. It was one of the first animated shows I saw where you actually had to pay attention to previous episodes, because ongoing storylines and character arcs were favored over the one-off style I was used to in a cartoon. The show also provided actor Keith David (They Live, The Thing, various Ken Burns documentaries), of whom I am a big fan of, with a true starring role as opposed to playing a secondary character.

Caveat: I'm only talking about the first two seasons of Gargoyles. The third season completely changed the format and the continuity of the show. The third season sucked. It never happened, it never happened, it never happened.....

17. Magical Shopping Arcade Abenobashi (2002, 13 episodes, Gainax/Madhouse)

I don't know, maybe it's the escapist Doctor Who/Quantum Leap/Sliders fan in me that sees the appeal in this short-lived anime series. Each episode sees the two main characters Sasshi and Arumi dumped into a new alternate reality - one episode they're in a prehistoric world, the next episode they're in a hardboiled Raymond Chandler pastiche (they even end up in a world based off a dating sim at one point!). The show was targeted to the 18-35 year old demographic, so despite deceiving appearances at times, Shopping Arcade featured some fairly mature and/or graphic themes (the most notable of these being murder).

16. Batman Beyond (1999-2001, 52 episodes, Warner Bros. Animation)

Set in the far-future, Batman Beyond was a dark sci-fi take on the Batman universe with an elderly Bruce Wayne training young Terry McGinnis to be the new Dark Knight. I love the visuals from this show: the Akira-inspired Neo-Gotham with its high-tech backgrounds and the new red and black Batsuit that makes Batman look more animalistic than ever before. The show would go on to spawn Return of the Joker, which stands alongside Mask of the Phantasm and The Dark Knight as one of the greatest Batman films ever made.

Sidenote: It was actually one of my high school science teachers that clued me in to the existence of Batman Beyond. Knowing that an adult with a college degree and a 'proper job' still watched cartoons made me feel slightly better about still watching them as a then-teenager.

15. Metalocalypse (2006-present, 40 episodes to date, Brendon Small/Tommy Blacha)

I know I shouldn't have been surprised when I discovered some ire against this show from portions of the metalhead community, but I was. In their ongoing quest to be extra, extra counterculture and 'Tr00', certain metal fans will end up hating anything that has even a modicum of popularity, such is the case with Metalocalypse (either that, or they just don't get the Spinal Tap style lampooning going on here). Metalocalypse slays all the other animated shows currently in production, mostly because it has a character named Murderface and the others don't.

14. Speed Racer (1966-1968, 52 episodes, Tatsunoko Productions)

Another series first witnessed by yours truly at an impressionable age. I suspect that Speed Racer (aka Mach Go Go Go) could very well be the reason I developed an interest in NASCAR years later. I mean, NASCAR drivers are about as cooky and colorful as the cast of characters in Speed Racer, and both are obviously centered around cars going as fast as they possibly can. I think Speed Racer appeals to young and old boys alike in much the same way that James Bond's gadgets inside his Aston Martin do - deep down we just have the innate desire to push buttons and play with Matchbox cars.

13. Daria (1997-2001, 65 episodes, MTV Animation)

This show was probably the closest anyone ever came to nailing what it was like to be one of those outcast teenagers in an American high school during the mid-to-late 90's/early 00's. Those vapid cool kids, I dunno, they probably had a fucking 90210 or Dawson's Creek styled experience (bastards). Daria was just a clever show; highly satirical without actually using that many direct pop culture references (so as not to date the show too much). If it's possible to fall in love with a cartoon character, I might well have done so with the title character herself. I'm a sucker for those cynical, sardonic, nerdy girls.

12. Scooby Doo, Where Are You! (1969-1971, 25 episodes, Hanna-Barbera)

Scooby has had a number of different series over the years, but it's the original Scooby Doo Where Are You! that stands out to me as being the best of them all. It's amazing that a show with such a repetitive formula has had the staying power to remain in the pop culture collective consciousness for about forty years now. Seriously... nearly every episode is the same: the Mystery Machine breaks down, there just happens to be some kind of haunting/monster related problem in the area, the kids decide to investigate (during the course of which they will inevitably split up and get into trouble), the gang finds clues that reveal the monster is actually a fake, they somehow trap or trick the villain and pull off their mask (and I do so love the episodes where the gang never actually meet the villain beforehand, but act as if they know them when the mask is pulled off), the villain mutters the line "And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids" before being carted off to jail, and finally the gang celebrates and Scooby gets to do his catchphrase. Every. Damn. Episode.

And yet... we can't seem to get enough of it.

11. X-Men (1992-1997, 76 episodes, Graz Entertainment/Marvel)

I've never been huge on the X-Men. I just never could get my head around how the mutants in the Marvel books can be so maligned by the general public, yet you have freaks like the Incredible Hulk or radioactive powered superheroes like Spider-Man swinging around in the same universe and they're perfectly accepted by Joe Public. Does not compute!

However, despite my reservations, I loved this show as a youngster from my first viewing of it (I think it was the kick-ass theme song that did it). You had a huge cast of heroes - the more popular X-Men like Professor X, Wolverine, Storm, Cyclops (the pansy), Jean Grey, Beast, Gambit, Rogue, and er... Jubilee (who I came to truly appreciate as a result of this cartoon), but comic geeks also got plenty of appearances by some of the underrated X-Men like Bishop, Psylocke, Cable, Dazzler, and one of my personal favorites: Colossus. The heroes didn't just engage in goofy superhero fun though. I remember one episode in particular where the vaguely Neo-Nazi hate group, the Friends of Humanity, shows up to cause the mutants some grief. Pretty stern stuff for a Saturday morning show.

10. Cowboy Bebop (1998-1999, 26 episodes, Sunrise)

Along with Firefly, this show is definitely one of the coolest modern takes on the space western genre. I'm certainly no anime buff (too many 13 year olds battling giant robot type shows for me to wade through), but I know some who are, and they frequently consider Cowboy Bebop to be right up there alongside highly praised shows such as Mobile Suit Gundam and Neon Genesis Evangelion as one of the greatest animated series to ever come out of Japan. What's the appeal? It's hard to say. The show is more sleek and sophisticated than most animated shows, and all of the characters are distinct and 'cool' in their own way. Cowboy Bebop also manages to avoid being trite against the odds. Normally I would scoff at and do my best to avoid anything that features a cast of edgy, mysterious bounty hunters - some of which have the dreaded 'haunted past' and another character who happens to be an amnesiac - anathema in any other form of fiction, but somehow it works out for the better in Cowboy Bebop.

09. The Tick (1994-1996, 36 episodes, Sunbow)

I remember watching Justice League cartoons as a wee lad, and despite being a pretty big DC Comics fan for most of my life, I still found them to be intolerably stupid and camp at times (not to mention poorly animated). When the hilarious Tick came along then, I welcomed it with open arms. This was an Adult Swim styled show before Adult Swim was a gleam in its daddy's eye (that daddy being Space Ghost, of course). The Tick wasn't really mature or vulgar in any way, but it obviously contained a brand of offbeat Python-esque comedy that wouldn't be immediately understood by the youngsters it was initiatally targeted to.

08. Sonic the Hedgehog (1993-1994, 26 episodes, DIC Entertainment)

Not to be confused with the absolutely HORRIBLE Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog, the 'other Sonic cartoon' (called Sonic SatAM by fans) was the polar opposite. Where Adventures had nonsensical plots, terrible voice actors, and piss-poor animation, Sonic the Hedgehog had a deep and complex plot, improved voice performances (including Urkel himself, Jaleel White, who played Sonic in both shows), and a fine team of animators who gave life to a dark, 33rd century planet ravaged by the mad scientist Robotnik and his army of robots. This show kicked some serious tail, and it's a terrible shame that the sands of time have left the series largely forgotten.

07. The Critic (1994-1995, 23 episodes, Russell Bangert/Nick Johnson)

IT STINKS!

I'm a movie fan and a freak for Mystery Science Theater 3000, so naturally any show that focuses on taking the piss out of not only the Hollywood machine but the film critics who follow it is probably going to be a favorite of mine. Jon Lovitz is gut-bustingly hilarious as Jay Sherman, lovable loser with an out of control stomach. With his ever so slightly snobbish penchant for arty foreign films and his constant beratement of loud summer blockbusters, Jay comes across as an amped up pastiche of Jonathan Rosenbaum in many ways. Killed before its time by FOX (seriously... FOX has no idea, do they?), the previously unbroadcast episodes of The Critic were given a lease of life on Comedy Central, where it developed a loyal cult following still active to this day.

06. Space Ghost Coast to Coast (1994-2004, 96 episodes, Hanna-Barbera)

I actually feel slightly guilty placing Space Ghost Coast to Coast on this list. This is supposed to be a top 20 animated shows list, and this faux-talk show cartoon is just barely animated, and most of the actual animation we saw was simply stock footage cannibalized from the original 1966 version of Space Ghost. However, the limited animation style is what gave Coast to Coast character, resulting in a very weird and surreal spoof where celebrities were often made to look the fool in their 'interviews' with the buffoon superhero Tad 'Space Ghost' Ghostal (although you had a fair number of celebrities who quickly figured out what was going on - Adam West, Beck, Joel Hodgson, Weird Al, William Shatner... just to name a few).

05. Danger Mouse (1981-1992, 89 episodes, Cosgrove/Hall Productions)

Coolest. Secret Agent. Ever. James Bond? John Drake? Harry Palmer? They've all got nothin' on the White Wonder, otherwise known as DANGER F'N MOUSE! Can any of those other secret agents speak extraterrestrial languages? Can they enter a 7th level Yoga-Hopping Trance (whatever that means)? Can they survive battles with dragons, ward off giant spider invasions, and diffuse earth-shattering death rays all without breaking a sweat?! I didn't think so...

04. The Venture Bros. (2003-present, 39 episodes to date, World Leaders Entertainment)

Actually, I take back what I said about secret agents. Brock Samson might kill me.

The Venture Bros. is held up by the dopey, naive Hardy Boys knockoffs Hank and Dean, their painfully unhip genius father Dr. Thaddeus Venture (who consistently fails to live up to his late father, a handsome, hip, and heroic genius, with hilarious results), and the beefsteak killing machine and family bodyguard Brock Samson. When one thinks of action heroes, Brock Samson surely has to be towards the top of the list (even though he does kinda suck at being a bodyguard, letting the boys get kidnapped or killed quite frequently). One part Race Bannon, one part James Bond, one part Schwarzenegger, and probably a little Triple H and Doc Savage thrown in for good measure... and he looks good with a mullet. Here's one guy that could definitely take Chuck Norris in a cage match.

03. Æon Flux (1991-1995, 16 episodes, MTV Animation)

I first saw Æon Flux in the very early 90's during MTV's late night festival of weirdness known as Liquid Television (the same episode that featured the early Beavis and Butt-head short "Frog Baseball", actually). I was hooked immediately. The 30 minute episodes produced in 1995 were fantastic, but it was the shorts that came before them, those brief five minute mindfucks without established characters or dialogue that really sold the show for me. They were so odd, often requiring multiple viewings before you understood what the hell was going on. I mean, the main character was violently killed off in a few of them! You're not supposed to do that, are you?!

The pinnacle of Æon Flux, in my opinion, is the episode "War", which sees Æon shot to death in the opening scene, only for her killer to be revealed as a blonde haired hero-soldier type who goes on a killing spree, only to suddenly be stabbed to death by a master swordsman who also goes on a path of destruction against enemy soldiers, only to be randomly shot in the chest by a comely female soldier who... you get the idea. Honest to goodness, I have never EVER watched anything that even remotely came close to messing with my emotions the way the "War" episode of Æon Flux does. This one episode alone makes the entire series worth tracking down and watching. It's that good.

02. Beavis and Butt-head (1993-1997, 65 episodes, MTV Animation)

I originally had this lengthy commentary prepared in this space where I compared the characters of Beavis and Butt-head to a pair of idiot savants, arguing that their music video critiques actually display a rather amazing amount of intelligence and acumen despite the boys' obvious lack of worldly knowledge...

But who am I trying to fool here? I just like watching them kick each other in the gnads.

01. Batman: The Animated Series (1992-1995, 85 episodes, Warner Bros. Animation)

Art deco met film noir to create 'Dark Deco' and Batman: The Animated Series was born. Without a doubt, one of the most cerebral, cinematic, and unique looking cartoons you'll ever lay eyes on, I have my doubts we'll ever see anything approach its level of brilliance again. This show ended up having so much clout it actually started to influence the Batman comics - witness Detective Renee Montoya, the villainous Lock-Up, and of course, the Joker's main squeeze Harley Quinn all making their debut in the comics soon after, or Mr. Freeze and Clayface being revised in print to look more like their animated counterparts. Up until Christopher Nolan's new film series came along, Batman: The Animated Series was the standard by which all other pieces of Bat-related media were judged. It just seemed to get everything 'right' as far as the goddamn Batman and his gloomy city went. The crown jewel of 90's cartoons.

REVIEW - Stoner (1974)

2009-08-29T12:06:00.005-04:00

Stoner

Hong Kong/Australia – 1974

Directed by – Huang Feng

Starring – George Lazenby, Angela Mao, Hwang In-Shik, Betty Ting Pei

Color – 105 Min – Not Rated

Had it not been for the untimely death of Bruce Lee, the film that eventually became known as Stoner in the USA (The Shrine of Ultimate Bliss in Hong Kong, A Man Called Stoner or Hong Kong Hitman elsewhere) could well have been one of the biggest movies of all-time. Originally set to star Enter the Dragon's Bruce Lee, former James Bond actor George Lazenby, and Japanese legend Sonny Chiba, Stoner had major support from American studios, who promised worldwide distribution and a proposed production and marketing budget that exceeded $10 million dollars each. Unfortunately, Lee's passing caused the American studios to buckle, and when Sonny Chiba packed up and walked away from the project, the plug was pulled. Stoner would eventually go on to be made on a more modest budget, backed exclusively by Raymond Chow's Golden Harvest company in Hong Kong. Lazenby was the only one of the originally projected top-billed stars to stay on with the film, which resulted in the former Bond becoming the highest paid star in Hong Kong cinema for a short while.

So yes, Stoner is nothing close to the second coming of Enter the Dragon, and it's probably deservedly become a rather obscure and sometimes difficult to locate film nowadays. But dammit, this is still a highly entertaining hour and a half, even if it is B-cinema. It's camp as hell (often unintentionally), exceptionally light on plot most of the time, and stuffed with virtually every chopsocky flick stereotype you can think of (terrible dubbing being the prime offender here). In other words, IT'S AWESOME!

George Lazenby plays Joseph Stoner, a rather quick-tempered narcotics agent from Australia who undertakes a revenge mission against a Hong Kong drug cartel after his sister is killed by their newest wonder-drug to hit the market, known as "the Happy pill". Working the case from the other side is Taiwanese agent Li Shou-Hua, played by then-rising star Angela Mao, who had gained some recognition with western audiences after her small role in Enter the Dragon the previous year. Both characters take vastly different approaches to their investigation of the drug runners, so it isn't until the last forty minutes or so that Stoner and Shou-Hua actually meet up and go down the 'buddy cop' route. Still, it's fairly obvious that Lazenby was cast for his 'Western' looks and his tall, well-defined physical presence. His fighting style, while certainly mean and smashmouth, lacks the finese and agility of a tried and true martial arts film star, which is what Angela Mao (aka Lady Whirlwind) was there to provide. Think of Stoner as the proto-Rush Hour movie, except without the black and Asian jokes every five minutes.

The fight scenes are highly entertaining, and are probably the main reason this film has retained anything close to a cult following over the years (without the fighting the movie would pretty much be George Lazenby strutting around Hong Kong looking cool and Angela Mao providing a bit of cute eye candy every now and then). The style of martial arts movies from the 60's and 70's is obviously a bit more fantastical than what you see in modern fight flicks that favor gritty realism. Stoner harkens back to those Halcyon days when the hero could whoop ass on twenty guys at the same time and still have enough left in the tank to have a quick shag afterwards. The final battle in Stoner features plenty of slow-motion so our characters can perform all manner of unfathomable flips, dives, and flying kicks to the face. Glorious.

One thing you'll never forget whilst watching Stoner is the fact that it was made in the 70's. From the pimp suits, to the hairstyles (my God, the hairstyles...), to Lazenby's pornstar mustache, to the rather questionable interior decorating decisions, Stoner just reeks of the 1970's. It's charming, I suppose, but it's also very easy to deride. I found myself enjoying the excessively funky score to Stoner despite myself. Amid the wakachika wakachika wah wah's and some oddly placed Moog effects, there's also this brassy Monty Norman wannabe jingle that plays throughout the movie. I think it's supposed to be reserved for the more badass moments of the film, but the crew went a little overboard, inserting it into completely unnecessary moments when NOTHING is happening on screen.

Tracking down a copy of Stoner could be either costly or simply a hassle, but let me tell you, it will all be worth it once you catch a glimpse of the movie's drug baron villain, Mr. Big, The film opens up with a shot of Big, perputual shiteating grin on his face, as he sits in his garishly designed office behind a rotating desk (!!!), a world map on the wall with flashing lights denoting all the territories the guy is apparently in control of, watching from his front-row view as all his underpaid lackey scientists work on the latest drugs. Oh, and he also has topless cocktail waitresses sashaying about the place handing him glasses of brandy from time to time. This guy has more chutzpah and gravitas than every single James Bond villain COMBINED! Did I mention he cackles maniacally for no particular reason every fifteen seconds or so?

3.5 / 5
(images for this review from the wonderful Hong Kong Cinemagic)

REVIEW - Blue Demon en La Mafia Amarilla (1972)

2009-08-22T21:53:00.002-04:00

Blue Demon en La Mafia Amarilla

Mexico – 1972

Directed by – René Cardona

Starring – Blue Demon, Armando Silvestre, Teresa Velazquez, German "Tin Tan" Valdes

Color – 90 Min – Not Rated

La Mafia Amarilla is the kind of film I really wanted to like. It has luchadores, men sporting ridiculous 1970's pompadors, a groovy and goofy soundtrack, a girl in kinky knee-high boots, and... did I mention luchadores? Unfortunately, I found myself desperately fighting to stay awake through most of the feature, which is saying something for a movie that only runs ninety minutes in length.

Despite being an action/crime hybrid, there's a lot of very sloooow moving sections of La Mafia Amarilla. You'll find our hero, the Blue Demon, enjoys giving long-winded speeches and talking on the phone instead of going out and busting heads together. At least half an hour of this film is comprised of phone conversations, which could easily be edited out to make this into a more brisk tele-movie length feature. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Blue was lining up a secondary career as a telemarketer if the whole wrestling and acting thing fell through for him.

C'mon, Blue! I'd be a better manager than Harvey Wippleman!

The premise is eerily similar to about fifty other lucha films: pro wrestler, private detective, and all-round troubleshooter, the Blue Demon, goes head to head with a gang of murderous hoods to avenge the death of a police officer. Here's the twist: it's not just any gang this time around, it's the dreaded yellow mafia! And when they say yellow mafia, they mean it quite literally. This film is another in a long line of media and fiction from the pre-politically correct world to include 'yellow peril' characters as the villains of the piece (all played by Mexican actors wearing eye makeup and squinting their eyes as obnoxiously as possible). In other words, the Fu Manchu-esque villains may come across as an overly offensive stereotype of the Chinese. I felt a little dirty watching La Mafia Amarilla because of this, although I must stress that I don't believe anyone involved in this movie was deliberately trying to be a hatemonger. And hey, if you think we've advanced far beyond this kind of nonsense in movies today, take a look at Michael Bay's Transformers 2 and get back with me.

It takes a fair amount of time for this film to get going. Blue, his leggy blonde assistant (Teresa Velazquez), and comic relief Tin Tan (one of German Valdes' final film performances), meander around for a good forty minutes or so, sitting around offices, scoping out the most painfully cliched Chinese laundromat, and running from crime scene to crime scene, always a step behind the mafia goons. We finally get things moving with a decent fight scene around the forty-five minute mark, with Blue and friends being ambushed by three of the mafia goons. Naturally they stand no chance against Blue Demon, who thrashes them in record time. I was doubled up with laughter during this scene because the score swelled up with a tune that was a dead ringer for the Price is Right theme. There's no better music to kick ass to.

So... do you shower wearing that thing, or... ?

Which reminds me... you wanna know how badass the Blue Demon is? At one point during the climactic battle, he actually kills a poor son of a bitch with a CHINLOCK! That's right - Blue is so strong and manly, he's able to end your life with a simple rest hold. Criminals beware! You'd be wise not to mess with this guy...

Seriously though, La Mafia Amarilla should probably not be near the top of your to-watch list if you're a newcomer to lucha films looking to get caught up by watching the back catalog. If you're a Blue Demon nut, maybe seek it out, but only if you've watched some of his better films first (And if you are a big Blue fan, tell me who the hell he's wrestling earlier in this film. It looks like El Dandy's father...). La Mafia Amarilla was briefly available in the Luchadores 3-pack DVD set from Pegassus Films that also included two Santo movies (Santo vs. Los Cazadores de Cabezas and Tesoro de Motezuma), although the set seems to have already gone out of print. You can find La Mafia Amarilla on its own in other bargain bin releases, but be wary if you can't understand Spanish - I've yet to see a dubbed or sub-titled version of this film.

2 / 5

REVIEW - Nightmare Castle (1965)

2009-08-07T19:32:00.002-04:00

Nightmare Castle

Italy – 1965

Directed by – Mario Caiano

Starring – Barbara Steele, Paul Muller, Helga Liné, Laurence Clift

B&W – 104 Min – Not Rated

Known as Gli Amanti d’oltretomba in its native Italy (The Faceless Monster and Night of the Doomed elsewhere), the film that came to be known as Nightmare Castle in the US is admittedly nothing more than one scary movie cliche after another: a mad scientist, vengeful ghosts, howling wind and lightning illuminating the darkened sky over a creepy looking castle… you get the idea. Yet despite all these likely eye-rolling moments, Nightmare Castle has at least one important x-factor in its favor: it manages to capture the gothic horror atmosphere and ambiance it was aiming for.

That, and it has the lovely Barbara Steele in it too.

Our tale begins in a vaguely central European countryside, where the black cape wearing Dr. Stephen Arrowsmith (Paul Muller) returns home to his spooky keep only to find his wife Muriel (Barbara Steele) having an affair with David, their gardener. Arrowsmith (we’re living on the edge!), being a black-clad fiend and all, whacks his gardener with a poker and soon enough has the two lovebirds tied up in his basement. The doctor tortures and eventually kills both Muriel and David by electrocuting them to death, but Muriel has the last laugh just before she dies, informing Arrowsmith (dream on! dream on!) that she changed her will without his knowledge, her sizable inheritance money going to her sister Jenny rather than her husband.

Arrowsmith (sweeeeet emooootion!) removes both hearts from his two victims and places them in a water-filled container and begins doing some mad science things with them in his laboratory. Apparently, you can use a small sample of blood from the heart of the recently deceased to reverse the aging process, which is exactly what Arrowsmith (lovin’ it up til I hit the ground!) does on his housekeeper and mistress Solange (Helga Liné), turning her from frumpy old maid into young hottie in seconds. Some will argue that the whole Solange subplot in Nightmare Castle is completely unnecessary, and I agree somewhat, but it does reinforce that Arrowsmith (dude looks like a lady!) is a truly evil bastard and that he was most likely fooling around on Muriel before she decided to look for some man-meat of her own.

Some time later, Arrowsmith (I was cryin’ when I met you…) tracks down Muriel’s sister Jenny (Barbara Steele again – this time as a blonde). Jenny is unfortunately mentally ill, living full-time in a sanatorium. The not-so-good doctor somehow cons her into marrying him and takes her into his custody, bringing Jenny back to the castle where big sis once lived. This is perhaps the weakest part of the story. How exactly would you convince your deceased wife’s sibling to marry you after their violent and untimely death? “Hi, I’m Stephen! I brutally tortured and killed your sister Muriel. Um… you wanna get married?” The only defense for Nightmare Castle I can think of is that Jenny is established early on as batshit and clueless, so I suppose it’s not too terrible of a stretch to imagine Arrowsmith (same old song and dance, my friend) taking advantage of her.

Of course, the doc only wants Jenny’s money, but he realizes – one wife dies, no big deal, a second wife dies, ehhh… the authorities might start looking into it, so he and Solange devise a plan to drive Jenny even more crazy so that the poor girl will have to live in a padded cell for the rest of her days and Arrowsmith (walk this way!) and mistress can fly to Rio with her inheritance. This plan consists of slipping Jenny halucinogenic drugs so that her dreams will scare the living bejesus out of her. However, Jenny’s weird dreams reveal to her the fate of her sister Muriel, though Jenny is unable to comprehend this for the moment.

Dr. Joyce (Laurence Clift) soon joins the newlyweds at their home, invited there from the sanatorium by Dr. Arrowsmith (yeah, you drive me crazy… – okay, I’ll stop) to ‘check up’ on his bride. And by ‘check up’ the villain really means ‘certify that this bitch is ca-razy and get her outta my castle’. Joyce sympathizes with Jenny though, intrigued by her recollections of the dream and her claims of seeing bizarre apparitions around the castle. Joyce quickly becomes a thorn in Arrowsmith’s side, poking around the place, questioning the staff, looking for clues… you’d think Arrowsmith looked guilty of something by instantly marrying the sister of his dead wife! Arrowsmith decides Joyce is more trouble than he’s worth and tries to have him killed (by electrocution once again, his favorite method apparently), but accidentally offs his dutiful butler instead. Arrowsmith barely emotes a ‘meh’ at the butler’s death, proclaiming to everyone that it must’ve been a heart attack, while giving Joyce one of those ‘if looks could kill’ staredowns.

At this point, Solange’s anti-aging cream is starting to break down, so Arrowsmith just says ‘fuck it’ and decides to kill Jenny and use her blood to restore Solange again. Why go through all this ‘let’s make her even more crazy’ rigmarole if you were just gonna knife her, doc? Anyway, Joyce tries to fight off Arrowsmith when he finds out about this, but Arrowsmith has a wicked THAC0 and knocks the poor bastard out. He seems to think he’s about to get away with it all too until Muriel and David show up as fully formed apparitions. Needless to say, revenge is sweet for Muriel. The pansy Joyce wakes up, saves Jenny from the mad scientist blood transferal machine of doom (which kills Solange off in the process) and escapes from the nightmarish place with a crazy but immensely wealthy strumpet on his arm. The end.

Alright, so the story of Nightmare Castle is quite laughable at times, and as I said, it’s chock-full of the cliches of the genre. It’s also very slow-moving, doubly so for the viewer with a more modern sensibility. The dialogue is far too ‘talky’ at times, and every cast member whose name is not Barbara Steele can be guilty of a little hammy acting from time to time. However, I still believe Nightmare Castle is worthwhile viewing for fans of Italian cinema or 60’s horror films. There is plenty of memorable atmosphere, despite the outlandish plot. The film is filled with the blackest of shadows and downright creepy imagery; the scene where Muriel makes her long-awaited return looking like a ghost out of a Japanese horror tale stands out as a particular favorite, although perhaps the most interesting scene of Nightmare Castle is Jenny’s pseudo-psychedelic dream sequence. A gossamer mist fills the screen as the viewer is presented with a number of stupefying phantasmal images. Coupled with an effective score by the Maestro, Ennio Morricone, and some fantastic set design and decoration, and you have some genuinely disturbing scenes.

Like she did in Black Sunday, Barbara Steele was tapped for dual roles in this film. She was able to stretch her acting ability a bit more in Nightmare Castle though, playing it sultry and decadent as Muriel and showing us mental anguish and confusion as Jenny. She may have grown slightly weary of her involvement in many of these genre films in recent years, but Steele will always remain an underrated talent of 1960’s horror. A stereotypical scream queen, she was not.

Not exactly a ‘classic’ by any stretch, but Nightmare Castle still makes for an enjoyable watch on a lonely Saturday night with the lights down low. Enthusiasts will surely want to give this one a shot if they haven’t already.

3 / 5