*Get "Killer Tongue" on Amazon here*
Looking at the video box or movie poster, you might think this is going to be another spoof of those silly 1950's horror films involving radiation poisoning gone wrong. You are so wrong.
In a nutshell, a meteor crashes to earth and a chunk is ingested by Candy (Melinda Clarke), a former nun waiting for her boyfriend Johnny (Jason Durr) to be released from prison. Her tongue grows to about ten feet long, and eventually talks to her. Hijinks of the most offensive order ensue.
This is such an off-the-wall surreal nightmare that you must see it to believe it. So many scenes can only be mentioned by their generic names because this somehow escaped with an (R) rating but watch out for the port-a-potty scene, the bathtub scene, the confessional scene, and the super glue scene. While this has a lot of material that kids should not see, this is also one of the funniest horro films out there. Robert Englund, as the prison director, gives a better performance here than in all the "A Nightmare on Elm Street" films combined, showing that his acting genius did not have to include fright makeup, and he should have been allowed to do more of these over-the-top horror comedies. The entire cast looks like they were having a lot of fun here, and it rubs off on the viewer in the right mood.
Sometimes hard to find in the wild, I loved (and was mostly aghast) at "Killer Tongue." There needs to be a decent version of this released on physical media of this, I have heard the DVD is terrible quality and cut. Also known as "Tongue Girl."
Monday, August 18, 2025
Sunday, August 17, 2025
Dillinger (1973)
*Get "Dillinger" on Amazon here*
Warren Oates walks like bank robber John Dillinger, he talks like Dillinger, he shoots like Dillinger, and he is one of the best things about "Dillinger."
John Milius wrote and directed this 1973 action packed biopic about the infamous bank robber. It acknowledges Arthur Penn's "Bonnie and Clyde" a couple of times, but Milius' script is not as good as the eye-wow he shows us. The story may be familiar, it has been told on dozens of true crime documentaries. John Dillinger and his gang terrorized the Midwest with violent bank robberies. He was captured in Arizona, brought back to Indiana, and escaped from jail using a bar of soap carved into the shape of a gun and blackened with shoe polish. Hot on his trail was the FBI's Melvin Purvis (Ben Johnson), who made it his own personal vendetta to kill all of these criminals, smoking cigars over their dead bodies. The gang have their own loving bad girls to hunker down with, and Dillinger had prostitute Billie (Michelle Phillips). Dillinger was killed outside the Biograph Theater in Chicago while seen with the infamous lady in red, Anna Sage (Cloris Leachman).
While "Bonnie and Clyde" was a historic entry in the crime film genre, I thought the film makers in that situation glorified the duo a little too often. "Dillinger" does the opposite, making the bank robber as mean as we imagine he was. Milius' efforts to portray Dillinger as a villain backfire, since we see him in the couple of years before his death, never finding out how he got into crime in the first place. His family is briefly shown, but nothing comes from the scene. Milius throws us into Dillinger's exploits immediately, but without any background, there is not sympathy, empathy, and eventually interest invested with the man. The beginning of the film is an exercise in choppy editing and stiff scenes until we get to the actions sequences. It makes me wonder what was left on the cutting room floor.
Ben Johnson plays a great Melvin Purvis, a wonderful character name if I didn't know the person existed in real life. While he should be our hero, Purvis is shown to be just as violent as Dillinger. Milius plays with us, with Purvis showing no mercy for some criminals, yet sparing others, without any kind of explanation. We know Purvis as well as we know Dillinger. What does Milius leave us with? Incredible shootout sequences. There is a giant gun battle at a house that takes forever and is worth every minute of film. The film is violent and does not flinch when it comes to showing the death and destruction done by both sides of the law. Milius' direction is good, and his fuzzy Depression era vistas are pretty to look at. The cinematography is great, as is the set design and costuming. The rest of the supporting cast is fine, and full of some recognizable names: Phillips is okay as Billie although this moll type part is old hat, Harry Dean Stanton is funny as gang member Homer, his final scene is one of the best in the film. Leachman, then a recent Oscar winner, has just two scenes as Anna, I would have liked to see more. Oates is the best Dillinger ever portrayed on film. Tons of character actors populate the rest of the cast: Geoffrey Lewis, John P. Ryan, Steve Kanaly, Frank McRae, Richard Dreyfuss as Baby Face Nelson, all good.
With "Dillinger," you get a mixed bag. On the one hand, you have incredibly violent shootouts that took many lives. On the other hand, you have no reason to care about these characters or their internal motivations. Maybe we know how Purvis felt about Dillinger after all.
Warren Oates walks like bank robber John Dillinger, he talks like Dillinger, he shoots like Dillinger, and he is one of the best things about "Dillinger."
John Milius wrote and directed this 1973 action packed biopic about the infamous bank robber. It acknowledges Arthur Penn's "Bonnie and Clyde" a couple of times, but Milius' script is not as good as the eye-wow he shows us. The story may be familiar, it has been told on dozens of true crime documentaries. John Dillinger and his gang terrorized the Midwest with violent bank robberies. He was captured in Arizona, brought back to Indiana, and escaped from jail using a bar of soap carved into the shape of a gun and blackened with shoe polish. Hot on his trail was the FBI's Melvin Purvis (Ben Johnson), who made it his own personal vendetta to kill all of these criminals, smoking cigars over their dead bodies. The gang have their own loving bad girls to hunker down with, and Dillinger had prostitute Billie (Michelle Phillips). Dillinger was killed outside the Biograph Theater in Chicago while seen with the infamous lady in red, Anna Sage (Cloris Leachman).
While "Bonnie and Clyde" was a historic entry in the crime film genre, I thought the film makers in that situation glorified the duo a little too often. "Dillinger" does the opposite, making the bank robber as mean as we imagine he was. Milius' efforts to portray Dillinger as a villain backfire, since we see him in the couple of years before his death, never finding out how he got into crime in the first place. His family is briefly shown, but nothing comes from the scene. Milius throws us into Dillinger's exploits immediately, but without any background, there is not sympathy, empathy, and eventually interest invested with the man. The beginning of the film is an exercise in choppy editing and stiff scenes until we get to the actions sequences. It makes me wonder what was left on the cutting room floor.
Ben Johnson plays a great Melvin Purvis, a wonderful character name if I didn't know the person existed in real life. While he should be our hero, Purvis is shown to be just as violent as Dillinger. Milius plays with us, with Purvis showing no mercy for some criminals, yet sparing others, without any kind of explanation. We know Purvis as well as we know Dillinger. What does Milius leave us with? Incredible shootout sequences. There is a giant gun battle at a house that takes forever and is worth every minute of film. The film is violent and does not flinch when it comes to showing the death and destruction done by both sides of the law. Milius' direction is good, and his fuzzy Depression era vistas are pretty to look at. The cinematography is great, as is the set design and costuming. The rest of the supporting cast is fine, and full of some recognizable names: Phillips is okay as Billie although this moll type part is old hat, Harry Dean Stanton is funny as gang member Homer, his final scene is one of the best in the film. Leachman, then a recent Oscar winner, has just two scenes as Anna, I would have liked to see more. Oates is the best Dillinger ever portrayed on film. Tons of character actors populate the rest of the cast: Geoffrey Lewis, John P. Ryan, Steve Kanaly, Frank McRae, Richard Dreyfuss as Baby Face Nelson, all good.
With "Dillinger," you get a mixed bag. On the one hand, you have incredibly violent shootouts that took many lives. On the other hand, you have no reason to care about these characters or their internal motivations. Maybe we know how Purvis felt about Dillinger after all.
FAQs (2005)
*Get "FAQs" on Amazon here*
This odd film is a touching and frustrating look at gay bashing victims, and the bashers themselves. India (Joe Lia), fresh from getting ripped off by a local porno director in L.A., is attacked by Guy (Adam Larson) and Quentin (Joshua Paul). India is saved by a pistol-packing drag queen named Destiny (a sensational Allan Louis), who takes India home. India, Destiny, and troubled lesbian Lester (Minerva Vier) form an odd family unit, continually haranguing the straights who always seem to be lurking around with an insulting comment or threats of violence. India takes in Spencer (Lance Lee Davis), a very troubled young man obsessed with killing his abusive parents with a homemade bomb. India follows through on a theory that Guy and Quentin are gay, while Destiny falls for a neighborhood police detective (Vince Parenti), and the family find themselves tempted with the same violent impulses they have been subjected to in the past.
Writer and director Everett Lewis delivers an allegory that draws moral lines in the sand before quickly blurring those borders. The quasi-family see themselves as victims, not aware of what they are capable of. Lewis tells the story, only standing on a soapbox in the last few scenes. The cast is good, with Louis' Destiny a stand out. The film's look is heavily saturated and dark. I was never sure where Lewis was going with his script, expecting both "The Last Supper"-type murderous satire, then "To Wong Foo..."-type tolerance messages. I did feel many of the characters were written too broadly. India and Spencer look too handsome and healthy for the streets, and Quentin's over-the-top trailer redneck seems out of place in a West Hollywood setting. I am still wondering why the character Lester is even here, as she always seems to be "at work," never becoming a major player in the plots. Many, many of the climactic lines fall flat- declarations of love that are forced.
Lewis does enough to slightly recommend "FAQs" (terrible title), from the creepy Texas Republican Party platform opening crawl, to speaking out against violence from bashers and their victims alike. With this willing cast, I guess I wanted to see more focus in the script.
This odd film is a touching and frustrating look at gay bashing victims, and the bashers themselves. India (Joe Lia), fresh from getting ripped off by a local porno director in L.A., is attacked by Guy (Adam Larson) and Quentin (Joshua Paul). India is saved by a pistol-packing drag queen named Destiny (a sensational Allan Louis), who takes India home. India, Destiny, and troubled lesbian Lester (Minerva Vier) form an odd family unit, continually haranguing the straights who always seem to be lurking around with an insulting comment or threats of violence. India takes in Spencer (Lance Lee Davis), a very troubled young man obsessed with killing his abusive parents with a homemade bomb. India follows through on a theory that Guy and Quentin are gay, while Destiny falls for a neighborhood police detective (Vince Parenti), and the family find themselves tempted with the same violent impulses they have been subjected to in the past.
Writer and director Everett Lewis delivers an allegory that draws moral lines in the sand before quickly blurring those borders. The quasi-family see themselves as victims, not aware of what they are capable of. Lewis tells the story, only standing on a soapbox in the last few scenes. The cast is good, with Louis' Destiny a stand out. The film's look is heavily saturated and dark. I was never sure where Lewis was going with his script, expecting both "The Last Supper"-type murderous satire, then "To Wong Foo..."-type tolerance messages. I did feel many of the characters were written too broadly. India and Spencer look too handsome and healthy for the streets, and Quentin's over-the-top trailer redneck seems out of place in a West Hollywood setting. I am still wondering why the character Lester is even here, as she always seems to be "at work," never becoming a major player in the plots. Many, many of the climactic lines fall flat- declarations of love that are forced.
Lewis does enough to slightly recommend "FAQs" (terrible title), from the creepy Texas Republican Party platform opening crawl, to speaking out against violence from bashers and their victims alike. With this willing cast, I guess I wanted to see more focus in the script.
Friday, August 15, 2025
The Toolbox Murders (1978)
*Get "The Toolbox Murders" on Amazon here*
This infamous little slasher flick with the infamous little title is full of blood, violence, and nudity. It is everything you expect from something of this ilk.
Supposedly based on a true story, four women in an apartment building are brutally murdered by items normally found in a toolbox. The killer (and the film makers do not hide this fact) is Vance (Cameron Mitchell), the building owner. Vance is a religious nut who recently lost his daughter in a car accident and begins punishing "sinful" women. The last third of the film sees the deaths of two major characters, and wraps things up nicely with the end credits crawl describing what happened to the "survivors" of this "real life" crime spree.
Although rated (R), this is some very violent stuff. The first half hour, when the majority of the crimes take place, is unpleasant. One of the first murders includes the now infamous killing of a model taking a bath. The blood flows freely, and the murders are punctuated by some truly bizarre country and love tunes. The film makers build up a subplot between Laurie (Pamelyn Ferdin) and Joey's (Nicolas Beauvy) mom (Aneta Corsaut) and the standard driven police detective that never pans out. Ferdin and Eure were mainstays on television in the 1970's and they do well, considering the material. Donnelly's direction is pretty basic, a camera shadow can be seen here and there. Gary Graver, the cinematographer, is better known as Orson Welles' cameraman later in the great director's career. Graver seems to have made a career of this kind of film, his involvement usually sets you up for what to expect.
I cannot explain why I am recommending this film. Genre fans might appreciate the gore effects, and the reputation this film now celebrates. This is a serial killer film before the term "serial killer" was coined. The events are watchable, however. "The Toolbox Murders" is not "Scream" or "Urban Legends," this is the type of film that no more motive than to scare and disgust its viewer. If that is all they wanted to do, they succeeded.
This infamous little slasher flick with the infamous little title is full of blood, violence, and nudity. It is everything you expect from something of this ilk.
Supposedly based on a true story, four women in an apartment building are brutally murdered by items normally found in a toolbox. The killer (and the film makers do not hide this fact) is Vance (Cameron Mitchell), the building owner. Vance is a religious nut who recently lost his daughter in a car accident and begins punishing "sinful" women. The last third of the film sees the deaths of two major characters, and wraps things up nicely with the end credits crawl describing what happened to the "survivors" of this "real life" crime spree.
Although rated (R), this is some very violent stuff. The first half hour, when the majority of the crimes take place, is unpleasant. One of the first murders includes the now infamous killing of a model taking a bath. The blood flows freely, and the murders are punctuated by some truly bizarre country and love tunes. The film makers build up a subplot between Laurie (Pamelyn Ferdin) and Joey's (Nicolas Beauvy) mom (Aneta Corsaut) and the standard driven police detective that never pans out. Ferdin and Eure were mainstays on television in the 1970's and they do well, considering the material. Donnelly's direction is pretty basic, a camera shadow can be seen here and there. Gary Graver, the cinematographer, is better known as Orson Welles' cameraman later in the great director's career. Graver seems to have made a career of this kind of film, his involvement usually sets you up for what to expect.
I cannot explain why I am recommending this film. Genre fans might appreciate the gore effects, and the reputation this film now celebrates. This is a serial killer film before the term "serial killer" was coined. The events are watchable, however. "The Toolbox Murders" is not "Scream" or "Urban Legends," this is the type of film that no more motive than to scare and disgust its viewer. If that is all they wanted to do, they succeeded.
Treasure Island (1934)
*Get "Treasure Island" on Amazon here*
I lucked out in high school. I had a good streak of English teachers. While other classes were reading The Great Gatsby, The Pigman, and "Hamlet," I was entrenched in Frankenstein, In Cold Blood, and "Macbeth." Another classic I got to avoid was Treasure Island. After watching the 1934 film version, I kind of get the feeling Robert Louis Stevenson's book was better.
Jim Hawkins (Jackie Cooper) and his mother (Dorothy Peterson) run a small inn in England. One night a creepy paranoid drunk named Billy Bones (Lionel Barrymore) checks in, demanding Jim watch out for a one-legged man who wants to get Billy and the secret he carries in his ship's chest. Billy does call attention to himself, and drinks himself into an early grave, just as mysterious men descend on the inn, looking for Billy's secret- a treasure map. Jim has taken the map, shown it to the local magistrate/doctor Livesey (Otto Kruger), and the local squire Trelawney (Nigel Bruce) funds an expedition to the Caribbean to find Billy Bones' treasure. The ship, the Hispaniola, is being captained by Smollett (Lewis Stone), but the hired crew keeps disappearing before they set sail. A one-legged local tavern owner named Long John Silver (Wallace Beery) is hired on as cook, and he conveniently fills out the crew with friends of his. Silver goes about befriending the boy, all the while picking up clues on where Bones' treasure is.
Beery and Cooper teamed before, more successfully I have heard, in "The Champ" a couple of years earlier. In that film, Cooper's incessant crying had the film audiences of the day in tears themselves, and from clips I have seen of the film, I can understand why. He was incredibly good, not overly cute, and very believable. Here, as Jim, he cries again at Silver's doings, but it does not come off as well. As Silver continuously manipulates Jim, and is caught and called out on it, Jim sobs, then goes right back to the well for more. It comes to the point where Jim's naivete becomes Jim's irritating stupidity, as he doesn't seem to learn a thing- from the very beginning of the film to the strange final scene. And oh, what Jim sees! Director Fleming was more an action director, making his "The Wizard of Oz" and "Gone With the Wind," his best known films, notable in that he took over from another director on both. "Treasure Island" is violent, even for the mid-1930's. One man is run over by a wagon, and we see him scream and writhe. Murders occur around Jim at an alarming rate. Jim is threatened and grabbed, and even forced to kill, yet, he keeps seeing the good in the murderous Silver, and Fleming fills the screen with bloody mayhem- accompanied by light sea shanties, and comic relief from Charles "Chic" Sale as Ben Gunn, a man who has been on the treasured island for three years without human contact. The tone is so off, and so weird, I watched to see what horrors Jim would experience next, and bottle up inside. Someone should write a sequel where Jim ends up in an insane asylum like Bedlam, a quivering mass of jelly expecting drunkards and one-legged men to pop out and attack him.
Beery and Cooper don't try English accents, and while well-shot, the film is stagy. The ship scenes work, and some of the supporting performances are great- Barrymore especially- but you can often see poor Beery's leg merely bent up to look absent, thanks to some lousy editing. While this outing of "Treasure Island" isn't all bad, coming from the Golden Age of Cinema, it is a disappointment. I'll give the superior "Mutiny on the Bounty" and "Captains Courageous" another look next time I feel the need for big boats and bigger water.
I lucked out in high school. I had a good streak of English teachers. While other classes were reading The Great Gatsby, The Pigman, and "Hamlet," I was entrenched in Frankenstein, In Cold Blood, and "Macbeth." Another classic I got to avoid was Treasure Island. After watching the 1934 film version, I kind of get the feeling Robert Louis Stevenson's book was better.
Jim Hawkins (Jackie Cooper) and his mother (Dorothy Peterson) run a small inn in England. One night a creepy paranoid drunk named Billy Bones (Lionel Barrymore) checks in, demanding Jim watch out for a one-legged man who wants to get Billy and the secret he carries in his ship's chest. Billy does call attention to himself, and drinks himself into an early grave, just as mysterious men descend on the inn, looking for Billy's secret- a treasure map. Jim has taken the map, shown it to the local magistrate/doctor Livesey (Otto Kruger), and the local squire Trelawney (Nigel Bruce) funds an expedition to the Caribbean to find Billy Bones' treasure. The ship, the Hispaniola, is being captained by Smollett (Lewis Stone), but the hired crew keeps disappearing before they set sail. A one-legged local tavern owner named Long John Silver (Wallace Beery) is hired on as cook, and he conveniently fills out the crew with friends of his. Silver goes about befriending the boy, all the while picking up clues on where Bones' treasure is.
Beery and Cooper teamed before, more successfully I have heard, in "The Champ" a couple of years earlier. In that film, Cooper's incessant crying had the film audiences of the day in tears themselves, and from clips I have seen of the film, I can understand why. He was incredibly good, not overly cute, and very believable. Here, as Jim, he cries again at Silver's doings, but it does not come off as well. As Silver continuously manipulates Jim, and is caught and called out on it, Jim sobs, then goes right back to the well for more. It comes to the point where Jim's naivete becomes Jim's irritating stupidity, as he doesn't seem to learn a thing- from the very beginning of the film to the strange final scene. And oh, what Jim sees! Director Fleming was more an action director, making his "The Wizard of Oz" and "Gone With the Wind," his best known films, notable in that he took over from another director on both. "Treasure Island" is violent, even for the mid-1930's. One man is run over by a wagon, and we see him scream and writhe. Murders occur around Jim at an alarming rate. Jim is threatened and grabbed, and even forced to kill, yet, he keeps seeing the good in the murderous Silver, and Fleming fills the screen with bloody mayhem- accompanied by light sea shanties, and comic relief from Charles "Chic" Sale as Ben Gunn, a man who has been on the treasured island for three years without human contact. The tone is so off, and so weird, I watched to see what horrors Jim would experience next, and bottle up inside. Someone should write a sequel where Jim ends up in an insane asylum like Bedlam, a quivering mass of jelly expecting drunkards and one-legged men to pop out and attack him.
Beery and Cooper don't try English accents, and while well-shot, the film is stagy. The ship scenes work, and some of the supporting performances are great- Barrymore especially- but you can often see poor Beery's leg merely bent up to look absent, thanks to some lousy editing. While this outing of "Treasure Island" isn't all bad, coming from the Golden Age of Cinema, it is a disappointment. I'll give the superior "Mutiny on the Bounty" and "Captains Courageous" another look next time I feel the need for big boats and bigger water.
Scanner Cop (1994)
*Get "Scanner Cop" on Amazon here*
The producers of the "Scanners" series decided to take the series in a whole new direction.
This time out, young scanner Samuel's birth father goes insane, and Samuel is adopted by an understanding cop. Years later, his adopted dad is police commander and Samuel Staziak (Daniel Quinn) is a rookie cop on drugs to keep his scanning under control. He helps out his dad after a bunch of cops are shot by usually normal people. It seems Karl Glock (perennial villain Richard Lynch) is programming people to kill cops as revenge for his being shot by the commander.
The whole plot is just fine and dandy, but this film feels like one of those old syndicated TV action shows like "VIP" or "Silk Stalkings." Better action has been witnessed on "T.J. Hooker." It seems all the budget was spent on the special effects by John Carl Buechler, which are fine except for a hilarious finale involving a defibrillator. The film makers also do not remember their own mythology, as we see the scanner cop chase someone in an elevator by taking the next elevator that comes along. As we know, and the film shows us, scanners can "control" machines, so why doesn't he just scan and tell the elevator with the criminal in it to stop?
In the finale, as the scanner cop is running all over a hospital looking for his injured dad, he scans everyone he comes in contact with. The facial contortions and scanning take longer than just using his mouth and asking where his father is. I had the same reaction to this that I did with "Scanners" I and II. Fine, I have now seen them, time to go outside.
This is average in the purest sense of the word, and I wish the film makers had taken more chances with this by-the-numbers production. Followed by Scanner Cop II.
The producers of the "Scanners" series decided to take the series in a whole new direction.
This time out, young scanner Samuel's birth father goes insane, and Samuel is adopted by an understanding cop. Years later, his adopted dad is police commander and Samuel Staziak (Daniel Quinn) is a rookie cop on drugs to keep his scanning under control. He helps out his dad after a bunch of cops are shot by usually normal people. It seems Karl Glock (perennial villain Richard Lynch) is programming people to kill cops as revenge for his being shot by the commander.
The whole plot is just fine and dandy, but this film feels like one of those old syndicated TV action shows like "VIP" or "Silk Stalkings." Better action has been witnessed on "T.J. Hooker." It seems all the budget was spent on the special effects by John Carl Buechler, which are fine except for a hilarious finale involving a defibrillator. The film makers also do not remember their own mythology, as we see the scanner cop chase someone in an elevator by taking the next elevator that comes along. As we know, and the film shows us, scanners can "control" machines, so why doesn't he just scan and tell the elevator with the criminal in it to stop?
In the finale, as the scanner cop is running all over a hospital looking for his injured dad, he scans everyone he comes in contact with. The facial contortions and scanning take longer than just using his mouth and asking where his father is. I had the same reaction to this that I did with "Scanners" I and II. Fine, I have now seen them, time to go outside.
This is average in the purest sense of the word, and I wish the film makers had taken more chances with this by-the-numbers production. Followed by Scanner Cop II.
The Snowman (2017)
*Get "The Snowman" on Amazon here*
This infamous flop is a pretty-to-look-at mess of confusion, tension, and some very good performances.
In Norway, Detective Harry Hole (Michael Fassbender) and his new bright-eyed partner Katrine (Rebecca Ferguson) are investigating a series of disappearances that have been going on for years, some centered around philanthropist Arve Stop (J.K. Simmons). A calling card, the titular snowman, is left at the crime scenes, and are the signature of some anonymous letters Hole is starting to receive. Harry and Katrine go through the motions, taking advantage of the police department's new piece of technical marvel equipment. Harry also involves himself in his former girlfriend Rakel's (Charlotte Gainsbourg) life, and the couple seem to be pining for each other once again.
It's never a good sign when your film's director admits that he only had time to shoot 85% of a screenplay he was handed after being brought on when the original director, Martin Scorsese, dropped out. There are a couple of scenes in the trailer that didn't make the cut of the film simply because there was nowhere to insert them in this incomprehensible story. Oscar winners Claire Simpson and Thelma Schoonmaker were credited as editors, but their expertise can't salvage this mess. The film takes place in Norway, with travels to Bergen in Germany, but all the performers speak English. The setting and character names are Scandinavian, try to stop laughing at the name "Harry Hole," but the film makers oddly went with this cast instead of moving the setting to Canada or Alaska, or hiring a Norwegian cast.
On the positive, and I don't know how, the cast is great. Fassbender is seen waking up from a drunken stupor a few too many times, but his performance is very good. Ferguson is okay, but Gainsbourg turns her ex-girlfriend character into something special, and I wish we could have had more of her. Karlsson as her new boyfriend is achingly polite and naive, not quite picking up on the chemistry between Harry and Rakel. Aside from a few iffy special effects shots, the true locations are gorgeous, cold, and snowy. Based on a series of novels by Jo Nesbo (why start shooting your franchise with the seventh one?), this should have been a series starter, but the box office returns took care of that idea. From what I have read online, the screenplay strays from the novel on key plot points and kills off a couple of major characters who would return in later novels.
It's too bad this didn't work, I would have liked to see more of this character in less convoluted, confused cases. "The Snowman" left the viewer, and apparently the film makers, cold.
This infamous flop is a pretty-to-look-at mess of confusion, tension, and some very good performances.
In Norway, Detective Harry Hole (Michael Fassbender) and his new bright-eyed partner Katrine (Rebecca Ferguson) are investigating a series of disappearances that have been going on for years, some centered around philanthropist Arve Stop (J.K. Simmons). A calling card, the titular snowman, is left at the crime scenes, and are the signature of some anonymous letters Hole is starting to receive. Harry and Katrine go through the motions, taking advantage of the police department's new piece of technical marvel equipment. Harry also involves himself in his former girlfriend Rakel's (Charlotte Gainsbourg) life, and the couple seem to be pining for each other once again.
It's never a good sign when your film's director admits that he only had time to shoot 85% of a screenplay he was handed after being brought on when the original director, Martin Scorsese, dropped out. There are a couple of scenes in the trailer that didn't make the cut of the film simply because there was nowhere to insert them in this incomprehensible story. Oscar winners Claire Simpson and Thelma Schoonmaker were credited as editors, but their expertise can't salvage this mess. The film takes place in Norway, with travels to Bergen in Germany, but all the performers speak English. The setting and character names are Scandinavian, try to stop laughing at the name "Harry Hole," but the film makers oddly went with this cast instead of moving the setting to Canada or Alaska, or hiring a Norwegian cast.
On the positive, and I don't know how, the cast is great. Fassbender is seen waking up from a drunken stupor a few too many times, but his performance is very good. Ferguson is okay, but Gainsbourg turns her ex-girlfriend character into something special, and I wish we could have had more of her. Karlsson as her new boyfriend is achingly polite and naive, not quite picking up on the chemistry between Harry and Rakel. Aside from a few iffy special effects shots, the true locations are gorgeous, cold, and snowy. Based on a series of novels by Jo Nesbo (why start shooting your franchise with the seventh one?), this should have been a series starter, but the box office returns took care of that idea. From what I have read online, the screenplay strays from the novel on key plot points and kills off a couple of major characters who would return in later novels.
It's too bad this didn't work, I would have liked to see more of this character in less convoluted, confused cases. "The Snowman" left the viewer, and apparently the film makers, cold.
Thursday, August 14, 2025
Scooby-Doo! and the Reluctant Werewolf (1988)
*Get "Scooby-Doo! and the Reluctant Werewolf" on Amazon here*
Hanna-Barbera worked hard to find new things for their cash cow Scooby-Doo to do, and that explains this silly 1980's full-length animated film.
Shaggy, Scooby-Doo, Scrappy-Doo, and Shaggy's girlfriend Googie race cars in auto races. A group of monsters meet in Transylvania for the Monster Road Race, and must replace the now-retired werewolf. Luckily, the moon is right to create a new werewolf in the form of Shaggy. Count Dracula sends a duo known as the Hunch Bunch to change Shaggy into a werewolf, and then kidnap him and his friends back to Transylvania to drive in the race. As the werewolfed Shaggy and Scooby drive the race car, Scrappy and Googie follow behind them and the four try and outsmart the other cheating monsters who are competing. Count Dracula and Vanna Pira are commentators, and are also trying to get Shaggy to lose.
This thing clocks in at over ninety minutes, and that is too long. The original Scooby-Doo gang is jettisoned for this forced comedy. The screenwriter, trying to make this as long as possible, fills the last half hour with the car race, which may test even the most patient Scooby-Doo fans. There are some funny lines: Vanna's idea of color commentary is to name the colors she sees, and the local townspeople are forced to cheer for the monsters, but the film makers think this is so original they repeat those jokes non-stop- the first time is amusing, after that, it is desperate. The animation is Saturday morning mediocrity. The film has a hurried rush to it, as if they knew kids would buy it no matter what, so why put any effort in to it? This is like Disney's old straight-to-video sequels to their better theatrical films. I am not reluctant in not recommending this.
Hanna-Barbera worked hard to find new things for their cash cow Scooby-Doo to do, and that explains this silly 1980's full-length animated film.
Shaggy, Scooby-Doo, Scrappy-Doo, and Shaggy's girlfriend Googie race cars in auto races. A group of monsters meet in Transylvania for the Monster Road Race, and must replace the now-retired werewolf. Luckily, the moon is right to create a new werewolf in the form of Shaggy. Count Dracula sends a duo known as the Hunch Bunch to change Shaggy into a werewolf, and then kidnap him and his friends back to Transylvania to drive in the race. As the werewolfed Shaggy and Scooby drive the race car, Scrappy and Googie follow behind them and the four try and outsmart the other cheating monsters who are competing. Count Dracula and Vanna Pira are commentators, and are also trying to get Shaggy to lose.
This thing clocks in at over ninety minutes, and that is too long. The original Scooby-Doo gang is jettisoned for this forced comedy. The screenwriter, trying to make this as long as possible, fills the last half hour with the car race, which may test even the most patient Scooby-Doo fans. There are some funny lines: Vanna's idea of color commentary is to name the colors she sees, and the local townspeople are forced to cheer for the monsters, but the film makers think this is so original they repeat those jokes non-stop- the first time is amusing, after that, it is desperate. The animation is Saturday morning mediocrity. The film has a hurried rush to it, as if they knew kids would buy it no matter what, so why put any effort in to it? This is like Disney's old straight-to-video sequels to their better theatrical films. I am not reluctant in not recommending this.
Infected: The Darkest Day (2021)
*Get "Infected: The Darkest Day" on Amazon here*
What starts out as a cross between "28 Days Later" and a Jason Bourne movie quickly turns into a stomach-churning chore to sit through, thanks to some atrocious camerawork.
Dan (director Dan Rickard) washes up on a British beach with no memory of how he got there or where he came from. He is also ignorant of recent history, as a virus has decimated half the population, turning victims into bloodthirsty (running) zombies. Groups of people are immune, no one knows how the virus is spread, and Dan takes up with a houseful of angry young people who steal food during the day and hide indoors wiling the hours away. Group leader Sam (Chris Wandell) is onto Dan right away- not only is the group hunted by the zombies, but suddenly military personnel are after Dan as well.
Also known as "Infected" and "Darkest Day," this movie could easily have fit into the "28 Days Later" cinematic universe. The practical gore effects are very good, as is the makeup. The acting is hot and cold across the board, with Wandell coming off best as the hotheaded group leader. Unfortunately, most of this film is almost impossible to watch. The sound is terrible enough, but Rickard's constant shaking of his camera had me ill. Entire scenes of film would blur out of focus. The editing makes "Transformers" look like "Barry Lyndon," as I had no clue what was happening in half of the action scenes. It's shot so badly, I wasn't sure who lived in the safe house until some of them escaped to a camp, and a few were killed along the way. We are never given any clues as to Dan's real story and motives, so the big reveal about his identity is dead on arrival- I didn't care, I was trying to settle my stomach from screen time that looked like someone nailed a digital camera to a hardware store paint can shaker. Do not adjust your televisions, this film was seriously shot and edited this way. I suggest taking a day's break halfway through, like I did, you'll end up thanking me.
What starts out as a cross between "28 Days Later" and a Jason Bourne movie quickly turns into a stomach-churning chore to sit through, thanks to some atrocious camerawork.
Dan (director Dan Rickard) washes up on a British beach with no memory of how he got there or where he came from. He is also ignorant of recent history, as a virus has decimated half the population, turning victims into bloodthirsty (running) zombies. Groups of people are immune, no one knows how the virus is spread, and Dan takes up with a houseful of angry young people who steal food during the day and hide indoors wiling the hours away. Group leader Sam (Chris Wandell) is onto Dan right away- not only is the group hunted by the zombies, but suddenly military personnel are after Dan as well.
Also known as "Infected" and "Darkest Day," this movie could easily have fit into the "28 Days Later" cinematic universe. The practical gore effects are very good, as is the makeup. The acting is hot and cold across the board, with Wandell coming off best as the hotheaded group leader. Unfortunately, most of this film is almost impossible to watch. The sound is terrible enough, but Rickard's constant shaking of his camera had me ill. Entire scenes of film would blur out of focus. The editing makes "Transformers" look like "Barry Lyndon," as I had no clue what was happening in half of the action scenes. It's shot so badly, I wasn't sure who lived in the safe house until some of them escaped to a camp, and a few were killed along the way. We are never given any clues as to Dan's real story and motives, so the big reveal about his identity is dead on arrival- I didn't care, I was trying to settle my stomach from screen time that looked like someone nailed a digital camera to a hardware store paint can shaker. Do not adjust your televisions, this film was seriously shot and edited this way. I suggest taking a day's break halfway through, like I did, you'll end up thanking me.
Kill Plan (2021)
*Get "Kill Plan" on Amazon here*
A CIA operative tries to stop a deadly virus from killing millions of people, a fate I would welcome as opposed to watching this seventy-one minute monstrosity again.
Agent Nash (Jason Toler) is recovering from brain damage sustained in Iraq. He is partnered with Mara (Sarah Brine), when the deadly chemical XZ-9 is stolen from a lab. There are a couple of turncoat agents in Nash's department, Winston (Chris Spinelli) and Dexter (Adam Weston Poell), who are after the stuff, plus crime boss Wan (Benny Tjandra)...I apologize, I had no idea what was happening throughout this film.
Forget about the lack of budget and terrible performances for a moment. The screenplay makes no sense. I had no idea who characters were, what XZ-9 was (chemical? virus? laundry detergent?) although it is mentioned about a hundred times in the film, and after a hilarious opening sequence set in Iraq, I gave up trying. This is the kind of amateurish film where half the cast served in other roles behind the camera, but not in a noble or admirable manner. One minor character mispronounces "emeritus," and the gaffe made it to the final cut. The story is intercut with stock footage of large cities to try and give this some epic scope, but sometimes the aspect ratio doesn't match, or the city footage is repeated in later shots. The sound quality is terrible, and even the subtitle generator I had running couldn't understand what some characters were saying, substituting the word "(mumbles)" instead. The action scenes are boring and comical, pay no attention to that kinda cool poster because none of that is in this movie, which features more footage of our hero sitting at a desk instead of standing or trying to save the world. I can appreciate making the most of your modest budget as much as the next person, but this is ridiculous, as if the film makers wanted to hurry up and finish this because of a deadline to get it onto Amazon Prime Video, which seems to specialize in terrible films like this. This isn't a poor man's James Bond ripoff, this is a poor man's poor man's ripoff of a poor man's James Bond ripoff.
Speaking of James Bond, the scariest item awaits the few brave souls who make it through the end credits, where there is a promise that this Nash character will return in a sequel absolutely NO ONE wants.
A CIA operative tries to stop a deadly virus from killing millions of people, a fate I would welcome as opposed to watching this seventy-one minute monstrosity again.
Agent Nash (Jason Toler) is recovering from brain damage sustained in Iraq. He is partnered with Mara (Sarah Brine), when the deadly chemical XZ-9 is stolen from a lab. There are a couple of turncoat agents in Nash's department, Winston (Chris Spinelli) and Dexter (Adam Weston Poell), who are after the stuff, plus crime boss Wan (Benny Tjandra)...I apologize, I had no idea what was happening throughout this film.
Forget about the lack of budget and terrible performances for a moment. The screenplay makes no sense. I had no idea who characters were, what XZ-9 was (chemical? virus? laundry detergent?) although it is mentioned about a hundred times in the film, and after a hilarious opening sequence set in Iraq, I gave up trying. This is the kind of amateurish film where half the cast served in other roles behind the camera, but not in a noble or admirable manner. One minor character mispronounces "emeritus," and the gaffe made it to the final cut. The story is intercut with stock footage of large cities to try and give this some epic scope, but sometimes the aspect ratio doesn't match, or the city footage is repeated in later shots. The sound quality is terrible, and even the subtitle generator I had running couldn't understand what some characters were saying, substituting the word "(mumbles)" instead. The action scenes are boring and comical, pay no attention to that kinda cool poster because none of that is in this movie, which features more footage of our hero sitting at a desk instead of standing or trying to save the world. I can appreciate making the most of your modest budget as much as the next person, but this is ridiculous, as if the film makers wanted to hurry up and finish this because of a deadline to get it onto Amazon Prime Video, which seems to specialize in terrible films like this. This isn't a poor man's James Bond ripoff, this is a poor man's poor man's ripoff of a poor man's James Bond ripoff.
Speaking of James Bond, the scariest item awaits the few brave souls who make it through the end credits, where there is a promise that this Nash character will return in a sequel absolutely NO ONE wants.
Anna Nicole Smith: You Don't Know Me (2023)
*Get "The Anna Nicole Show- Season One" on Amazon here*
This tell-all surface Netflix documentary profiles one of the most famous women of the 1990's and 2000's, and covers the exact same material that I, a non-fan, have seen before. Think of it as "The E! True Hollywood Story (Now with Bewbs!)."
Vickie Lynn Marshall was from Mexia, Texas (which is filmed like it's one of Dante's Circles of Hell). Born in 1967, she was a beautiful child who attracted attention almost immediately. She married early, had a child, and ran away from an abusive homelife, ending up dancing in strip clubs in Houston. She met another stripper there who would become a lover, and Vickie changed her name to Nikki. Pictures of Smith (her married name) made their way to Playboy and Guess Jeans, and a model was born. Now known as Anna Nicole Smith, she descended on Los Angeles, taking modeling gigs and an occasional film role (she was offered only $50,000 to appear in "The Mask"?!), and becoming more and more famous for not doing very much. Behind the scenes, she married an oil billionaire sixty years older than her. Drugs became a part of Smith's life, starting out as pain medication for her breast augmentation surgery. Her son, Daniel, was by her side as she saw billionaire J. Howard Marshall, and the stripper friend, before her life began to spiral out of control- which was caught on camera by ever-present paparazzi, and eventually her own infamous "reality" show. She died after giving birth to a daughter in 2007, but her life made tabloid headlines even years after she was laid to rest.
One of the many flaws in this documentary is an odd one- it's not long enough. We get six hours on serial killers and their "unheard" audio tapes, but less than two hours on a household name who was literally in the public eye for fifteen years? Smith had a rough upbringing, and an hour could have been spent on her parents alone, instead of a gotcha moment that seems tacked on to the end of the film. The film makers could not get some important interviews that could have opened up the documentary, so Howard K. Stern and Larry Birkhead are relegated to "archive footage" roles. Smith seemed to be surrounded by enablers, some of whom do talk, but she's as much a mystery after the documentary as she is before. Talking about her deep love for Marshall while she was having a fling with her stripper friend is given a pass, as is footage of Smith presenting a giant, inappropriate semi-nude picture of herself to the old man while her toddler son is standing there. Was Smith a pathological liar, an innocent, a narcissist? I don't know, and neither do the film makers. Instead, we unironically get old footage of shamed newsman Brian Williams lecturing the mainstream media and public for treating Smith's death with so much attention before playing video from other news outlets. It's a fine balance between giving the public what they want, and shoving this exposure down our throats. We finally got rid of hanging on to Paris Hilton's every move, yet she still tries to get back in the spotlight every couple of years. Is it any better today? No, one of the last articles I saw on Fox News' website before writing this review was about Demi Lovato's difficulties sticking to preferred pronouns. It's all about the clicks, baby. How many hours did people waste watching Smith's show, or news stories about her daughter's paternity? Or the case that went all the way to the Supreme Court about her husband's estate? What did you do with that knowledge? Just like me after watching this, you hopefully cracked open a book and moved on with your life.
I never saw her "reality" show, or paid much attention to her when she was in the news. I don't hate her, I think it's sad that a person would go through all of this to become rich and famous, and to have that same fame completely destroy her life and the lives of those around her. This isn't a cautionary tale, because very few celebrities today are taking this caution and leading fulfilling lives. I hope her daughter is being raised "normally," and everyone caught in the hurricane existence of Anna Nicole Smith has moved on as well- including the producers of this documentary.
This tell-all surface Netflix documentary profiles one of the most famous women of the 1990's and 2000's, and covers the exact same material that I, a non-fan, have seen before. Think of it as "The E! True Hollywood Story (Now with Bewbs!)."
Vickie Lynn Marshall was from Mexia, Texas (which is filmed like it's one of Dante's Circles of Hell). Born in 1967, she was a beautiful child who attracted attention almost immediately. She married early, had a child, and ran away from an abusive homelife, ending up dancing in strip clubs in Houston. She met another stripper there who would become a lover, and Vickie changed her name to Nikki. Pictures of Smith (her married name) made their way to Playboy and Guess Jeans, and a model was born. Now known as Anna Nicole Smith, she descended on Los Angeles, taking modeling gigs and an occasional film role (she was offered only $50,000 to appear in "The Mask"?!), and becoming more and more famous for not doing very much. Behind the scenes, she married an oil billionaire sixty years older than her. Drugs became a part of Smith's life, starting out as pain medication for her breast augmentation surgery. Her son, Daniel, was by her side as she saw billionaire J. Howard Marshall, and the stripper friend, before her life began to spiral out of control- which was caught on camera by ever-present paparazzi, and eventually her own infamous "reality" show. She died after giving birth to a daughter in 2007, but her life made tabloid headlines even years after she was laid to rest.
One of the many flaws in this documentary is an odd one- it's not long enough. We get six hours on serial killers and their "unheard" audio tapes, but less than two hours on a household name who was literally in the public eye for fifteen years? Smith had a rough upbringing, and an hour could have been spent on her parents alone, instead of a gotcha moment that seems tacked on to the end of the film. The film makers could not get some important interviews that could have opened up the documentary, so Howard K. Stern and Larry Birkhead are relegated to "archive footage" roles. Smith seemed to be surrounded by enablers, some of whom do talk, but she's as much a mystery after the documentary as she is before. Talking about her deep love for Marshall while she was having a fling with her stripper friend is given a pass, as is footage of Smith presenting a giant, inappropriate semi-nude picture of herself to the old man while her toddler son is standing there. Was Smith a pathological liar, an innocent, a narcissist? I don't know, and neither do the film makers. Instead, we unironically get old footage of shamed newsman Brian Williams lecturing the mainstream media and public for treating Smith's death with so much attention before playing video from other news outlets. It's a fine balance between giving the public what they want, and shoving this exposure down our throats. We finally got rid of hanging on to Paris Hilton's every move, yet she still tries to get back in the spotlight every couple of years. Is it any better today? No, one of the last articles I saw on Fox News' website before writing this review was about Demi Lovato's difficulties sticking to preferred pronouns. It's all about the clicks, baby. How many hours did people waste watching Smith's show, or news stories about her daughter's paternity? Or the case that went all the way to the Supreme Court about her husband's estate? What did you do with that knowledge? Just like me after watching this, you hopefully cracked open a book and moved on with your life.
I never saw her "reality" show, or paid much attention to her when she was in the news. I don't hate her, I think it's sad that a person would go through all of this to become rich and famous, and to have that same fame completely destroy her life and the lives of those around her. This isn't a cautionary tale, because very few celebrities today are taking this caution and leading fulfilling lives. I hope her daughter is being raised "normally," and everyone caught in the hurricane existence of Anna Nicole Smith has moved on as well- including the producers of this documentary.
TerrorVision (1986)
*Get "TerrorVision" on Amazon here*
This horror/comedy features some familiar faces, as well as a completely laughless and scareless script.
Stanley (Gerrit Graham) has bought a do-it-yourself satellite dish system and wired his garish house with TV from around the world. Swingers Stanley and Racquel (Mary Woronov) depart to meet another couple, and leave Gramps (Bert Remsen) and their son Sherman (Chad Allen) alone. The satellite is invaded by a monster that was being disposed of from the planet Pluton, can turn itself into energy, and travel from television to television. When the monster kills, it can regenerate the heads of its victims, fooling the really dumb members of the cast. Stanley and Racquel return with Cherry (Randi Brooks) and Spiro (an embarrassed looking Alejandro Rey). Soon, the monster is on the loose in the house, and Sherman is tracking it with Gramps' machine gun stash.
John Carl Buechler, the special effects guy, does the monster here. It is terrible. The film was executive produced by Charles Band, who has almost two hundred producing credits, and has completed maybe six good films. The cast is awful and the humor is juvenile, making "American Pie" look like "Twelfth Night," yet the gore and violence are adult in nature. There is not a lot of blood here, every time the monster attacks, the victim oozes green slime- something never explained. Everyone tries to be very funny, but there is not one laugh. Not one guffaw. Not one smile. Not one half-smirk. There is nothing funny in this film. Absolutely nothing. What does that leave? No reason to seek this out.
"TerrorVision" is just that. Eighty five minutes of bad acting, bad special effects, and bad scripting. I find it hard to understand the cult following this has received.
This horror/comedy features some familiar faces, as well as a completely laughless and scareless script.
Stanley (Gerrit Graham) has bought a do-it-yourself satellite dish system and wired his garish house with TV from around the world. Swingers Stanley and Racquel (Mary Woronov) depart to meet another couple, and leave Gramps (Bert Remsen) and their son Sherman (Chad Allen) alone. The satellite is invaded by a monster that was being disposed of from the planet Pluton, can turn itself into energy, and travel from television to television. When the monster kills, it can regenerate the heads of its victims, fooling the really dumb members of the cast. Stanley and Racquel return with Cherry (Randi Brooks) and Spiro (an embarrassed looking Alejandro Rey). Soon, the monster is on the loose in the house, and Sherman is tracking it with Gramps' machine gun stash.
John Carl Buechler, the special effects guy, does the monster here. It is terrible. The film was executive produced by Charles Band, who has almost two hundred producing credits, and has completed maybe six good films. The cast is awful and the humor is juvenile, making "American Pie" look like "Twelfth Night," yet the gore and violence are adult in nature. There is not a lot of blood here, every time the monster attacks, the victim oozes green slime- something never explained. Everyone tries to be very funny, but there is not one laugh. Not one guffaw. Not one smile. Not one half-smirk. There is nothing funny in this film. Absolutely nothing. What does that leave? No reason to seek this out.
"TerrorVision" is just that. Eighty five minutes of bad acting, bad special effects, and bad scripting. I find it hard to understand the cult following this has received.
Wednesday, August 13, 2025
Stiffed (2011)
*Get "Cannibal Claus" on Amazon here*
This short film, found on the DVD release of "Cannibal Claus" from Gatorblade Films, is pretty awful.
Two young men are stabbed to death in the opening minutes of the film. We are then taken back in time where we see how and why they were murdered, but mostly the viewer has to suffer through footage of a bunch of random dudes going to a bar and drinking, which is absolutely NEVER entertaining viewing. This is a short and simple little slasher flick, and should have stuck to its one-joke, three-minute-long premise. Donohue would go on to make many small horror films, I pray they are better than this one.
This short film, found on the DVD release of "Cannibal Claus" from Gatorblade Films, is pretty awful.
Two young men are stabbed to death in the opening minutes of the film. We are then taken back in time where we see how and why they were murdered, but mostly the viewer has to suffer through footage of a bunch of random dudes going to a bar and drinking, which is absolutely NEVER entertaining viewing. This is a short and simple little slasher flick, and should have stuck to its one-joke, three-minute-long premise. Donohue would go on to make many small horror films, I pray they are better than this one.
Sublime (2022)
*Get "Sublime" on Amazon here*
This coming-of-age story about an Argentinian teenager is universal and cautious, which turns out to be a small detriment.
Manuel (Martin Miller) is a typical high schooler. He has a girlfriend- Azul (Azul Mazzeo), a lifelong best friend Felipe (Teo Inama Chiabrando), plays in a small town band with Felipe and two other friends (Joaquin Arana, Facundo Trotonda), and has a moderate homelife with his parents (Javier Drolas, Caroline Tejeda). Manuel also has braces, and shares a bedroom with his younger sister, so life isn't perfect. Felipe has lifted Manuel's spirits since they were kids, but now that he is in his teenage years, Manuel discovers that he doesn't just love his best friend, he's in love with his best friend. This realization begins to affect Manuel's relationships with everyone in his life, and he tries to sort out his feelings as the band gets ready to play at a birthday party.
Writer/director Biasin does an astounding job of presenting Manuel's story without any of the tropes you would normally find in this sort of plot. I would describe the film as quiet and careful. There are no explosive, emotional scenes ready to beat the viewer over the head about how they should feel. Manuel is just like ninety percent of us who went to high school- the anonymous rest-of-the-class who couldn't be confined to a stereotype or get films made about us. We don't need a sequence with Manuel's parents screaming at each other to know there's something wrong, and Biasin wisely leaves that out. An almost-sex scene between Manuel and Azul is awkward and halting, but not for the reasons you might think. Felipe is always around Manuel, but he's not stupid about Manuel's feelings toward him, he honestly doesn't know. I would say that Manuel's story is told in glimpses, not showy scenes, and this is helped by excellent performances all around. The film's style is so naturalistic, it plays like a documentary complete with handheld camerawork. The band's songs are also good without being too good.
However, the film isn't for everyone because of the way the story unfolds- there are some lags that creep in unnoticed until I found myself looking at the running time. I don't know if Biasin scripted everything, but I luckily didn't have to sit through a bunch of eye-rolling improvised scenes of teenaged angst, and I was grateful for that. The cinematography is wonderful, and the sound recording is realistic- the band rehearsals aren't polished and clean- the band's vocals were recorded on set and not dubbed in later.
"Sublime" isn't sweet, or dumb, or even intense. It has a charming reality that makes it familiar to many viewers, no matter their preferences.
This coming-of-age story about an Argentinian teenager is universal and cautious, which turns out to be a small detriment.
Manuel (Martin Miller) is a typical high schooler. He has a girlfriend- Azul (Azul Mazzeo), a lifelong best friend Felipe (Teo Inama Chiabrando), plays in a small town band with Felipe and two other friends (Joaquin Arana, Facundo Trotonda), and has a moderate homelife with his parents (Javier Drolas, Caroline Tejeda). Manuel also has braces, and shares a bedroom with his younger sister, so life isn't perfect. Felipe has lifted Manuel's spirits since they were kids, but now that he is in his teenage years, Manuel discovers that he doesn't just love his best friend, he's in love with his best friend. This realization begins to affect Manuel's relationships with everyone in his life, and he tries to sort out his feelings as the band gets ready to play at a birthday party.
Writer/director Biasin does an astounding job of presenting Manuel's story without any of the tropes you would normally find in this sort of plot. I would describe the film as quiet and careful. There are no explosive, emotional scenes ready to beat the viewer over the head about how they should feel. Manuel is just like ninety percent of us who went to high school- the anonymous rest-of-the-class who couldn't be confined to a stereotype or get films made about us. We don't need a sequence with Manuel's parents screaming at each other to know there's something wrong, and Biasin wisely leaves that out. An almost-sex scene between Manuel and Azul is awkward and halting, but not for the reasons you might think. Felipe is always around Manuel, but he's not stupid about Manuel's feelings toward him, he honestly doesn't know. I would say that Manuel's story is told in glimpses, not showy scenes, and this is helped by excellent performances all around. The film's style is so naturalistic, it plays like a documentary complete with handheld camerawork. The band's songs are also good without being too good.
However, the film isn't for everyone because of the way the story unfolds- there are some lags that creep in unnoticed until I found myself looking at the running time. I don't know if Biasin scripted everything, but I luckily didn't have to sit through a bunch of eye-rolling improvised scenes of teenaged angst, and I was grateful for that. The cinematography is wonderful, and the sound recording is realistic- the band rehearsals aren't polished and clean- the band's vocals were recorded on set and not dubbed in later.
"Sublime" isn't sweet, or dumb, or even intense. It has a charming reality that makes it familiar to many viewers, no matter their preferences.
Hellraiser: Revelations (2011)
*Get "Hellraiser: Revelations" on Amazon here*
When your option on continuing a once mildly successful horror film franchise is running out, do you let the series die a quiet and dignified death, since you haven't contributed anything to it in five years, or do you come up with a quickie entry that might make a buck or two on the video and streaming market? If you are Dimension, you crank out the garbage that is this film.
Nico (Jay Gillepsie, who looks like a young Val Kilmer) and Steven (Nick Eversman, who does not look like a young Val Kilmer) are two buddies who escape their privileged lives to Tijuana with a video camera along to record their adventures. The film begins jumping back and forth in time as we find out the boys end up missing and presumed dead, but their luggage made it back home along with the video camera (which wasn't kept by any authorities as evidence, despite footage of a possible murder) and a strange puzzle box. Nico's parents (Sebastien Roberts, Sanny Van Heteren) come over to dine with Steven's parents (Steven Brand, Devon Sorvari), and Steven's sister, and Nico's girlfriend, Emma (Tracey Fairaway). Got all that? In my notes, I had to construct a crude pedigree chart to keep the characters straight, especially since the parents all acted the same.
Dinner is tense since the parents ignore what happened to their sons until finally the ice is broken on the exact same night that Steven comes back home, bloodied and in a state of shock. The group is trapped in the isolated mansion, their cars mysteriously disappear, there is no phone service, and the viewer is treated to double doses of mayhem and murder as the story switches back and forth between what happened to Nico and Steven in Mexico, and what happens to their families now.
It had been over a quarter of a century since the original "Hellraiser", and despite a couple of better than average direct-to-video sequels, the overall series turned into a convoluted mess where some screenplays were injected with Pinhead and his Cenobites just to put them into a film and make it part of the "Hellraiser" franchise. Even Doug Bradley, who portrayed Pinhead in the preceding eight films, didn't see fit to return here- which isn't saying much, I guess, considering he did appear in the worst of the series before this film, as well as the best.
The film is dark and ugly. The screenwriter goes overboard (this is from the Dimension EXTREME label after all), and we get lots of gore, shootings, incest, murdered prostitutes, a baby killed offscreen, tequila shots, and bad story structure. The film runs only 75 minutes, with five minutes of that being opening and closing credits, yet the DVD's bonus feature is almost ten minutes of deleted scenes, which I couldn't bring myself to watch. Victor Garcia's direction is alright, after a stomach churning opening involving the two friends filming themselves on the trip. I didn't get sick from any gore, just the jolting camera movements that had me wishing I bought motion sickness medication the last time I was out. The majority of the action takes place around Steven's parents' house, with a dirty disgusting set standing in for Tijuana, which seems to be oddly populated by Asian prostitutes.
The performances here are pretty bad, but I am blaming the script. What used to sound so scary coming out of the mouth of Douglas Bradley sounds ridiculous coming out of Stephan Smith Collins'. There is a voice credit for Pinhead, and it sounds like Bradley a little, but Collins is stuck in this iconic role with nothing to do. The story pops in a vagrant character (Dan Buran) who happens to have the puzzle box that unleashes the demons, drops the vagrant character, then brings him back, and then drops him again. No explanation of Pinhead and the Cenobites is ever offered, and while having some mystery in a film is nice, even hardcore viewers like me have forgotten their origins. Simple questions like how long were the boys missing, and who actually controls the puzzle box and the summoning of the demons are left unanswered.
This made nine films in the franchise (which kept chugging along), and I had reviewed all of them, aside from some short fan films out there. "Hellraiser: Revelations" was the worst of the series to this point.
When your option on continuing a once mildly successful horror film franchise is running out, do you let the series die a quiet and dignified death, since you haven't contributed anything to it in five years, or do you come up with a quickie entry that might make a buck or two on the video and streaming market? If you are Dimension, you crank out the garbage that is this film.
Nico (Jay Gillepsie, who looks like a young Val Kilmer) and Steven (Nick Eversman, who does not look like a young Val Kilmer) are two buddies who escape their privileged lives to Tijuana with a video camera along to record their adventures. The film begins jumping back and forth in time as we find out the boys end up missing and presumed dead, but their luggage made it back home along with the video camera (which wasn't kept by any authorities as evidence, despite footage of a possible murder) and a strange puzzle box. Nico's parents (Sebastien Roberts, Sanny Van Heteren) come over to dine with Steven's parents (Steven Brand, Devon Sorvari), and Steven's sister, and Nico's girlfriend, Emma (Tracey Fairaway). Got all that? In my notes, I had to construct a crude pedigree chart to keep the characters straight, especially since the parents all acted the same.
Dinner is tense since the parents ignore what happened to their sons until finally the ice is broken on the exact same night that Steven comes back home, bloodied and in a state of shock. The group is trapped in the isolated mansion, their cars mysteriously disappear, there is no phone service, and the viewer is treated to double doses of mayhem and murder as the story switches back and forth between what happened to Nico and Steven in Mexico, and what happens to their families now.
It had been over a quarter of a century since the original "Hellraiser", and despite a couple of better than average direct-to-video sequels, the overall series turned into a convoluted mess where some screenplays were injected with Pinhead and his Cenobites just to put them into a film and make it part of the "Hellraiser" franchise. Even Doug Bradley, who portrayed Pinhead in the preceding eight films, didn't see fit to return here- which isn't saying much, I guess, considering he did appear in the worst of the series before this film, as well as the best.
The film is dark and ugly. The screenwriter goes overboard (this is from the Dimension EXTREME label after all), and we get lots of gore, shootings, incest, murdered prostitutes, a baby killed offscreen, tequila shots, and bad story structure. The film runs only 75 minutes, with five minutes of that being opening and closing credits, yet the DVD's bonus feature is almost ten minutes of deleted scenes, which I couldn't bring myself to watch. Victor Garcia's direction is alright, after a stomach churning opening involving the two friends filming themselves on the trip. I didn't get sick from any gore, just the jolting camera movements that had me wishing I bought motion sickness medication the last time I was out. The majority of the action takes place around Steven's parents' house, with a dirty disgusting set standing in for Tijuana, which seems to be oddly populated by Asian prostitutes.
The performances here are pretty bad, but I am blaming the script. What used to sound so scary coming out of the mouth of Douglas Bradley sounds ridiculous coming out of Stephan Smith Collins'. There is a voice credit for Pinhead, and it sounds like Bradley a little, but Collins is stuck in this iconic role with nothing to do. The story pops in a vagrant character (Dan Buran) who happens to have the puzzle box that unleashes the demons, drops the vagrant character, then brings him back, and then drops him again. No explanation of Pinhead and the Cenobites is ever offered, and while having some mystery in a film is nice, even hardcore viewers like me have forgotten their origins. Simple questions like how long were the boys missing, and who actually controls the puzzle box and the summoning of the demons are left unanswered.
This made nine films in the franchise (which kept chugging along), and I had reviewed all of them, aside from some short fan films out there. "Hellraiser: Revelations" was the worst of the series to this point.
Go Down, Death! (1944)
*Get "Go Down, Death!" on Amazon here*
Made specifically for segregated African-American audiences in the 1940's, this heavy-handed Christian story is admirable for entertaining an oppressed segment of the population, but to be blunt- it's pretty awful. For a fifty-four minute film, this is padded all to hell, so to speak.
Young preacher Jasper (Samuel H. James) is ready to take on the owner of the local nightclub, Big Jim Bottoms (director Spencer Williams). Big Jim comes up with a plan to frame the preacher with some photographs showing him cavorting with three women and DRINKING! The convoluted plan works, and Jim shows off his pics to his adoptive mother Caroline (Myra Hemmings), who also happens to be the aunt to Bettie Jean, Jasper's girlfriend. Caroline does some mighty bigly praying, as the ghost of her dead husband helps her retrieve the photographs. The Lord does work in mysterious ways, as a major character dies, and Big Jim gets his Big Comeuppance.
From a technical point of view, this film is terrible. A "Harlemwood" production set in Savannah, Georgia, it looks like it was edited in a blender. The dialogue rarely syncs up, stock footage is used constantly, and except for Williams and the actress who plays Bettie Jean, the cast is at a loss. Caroline and Bettie Jean's roles were not credited in the film, there is just a list of the performers at the beginning and end of the footage. The screenplay was based on a story that was based on a poem, and something must have been lost in the adaptation. There is barely enough here to assemble a half hour short to be shown in church basements, much less almost an hour.
Sure, you can show sympathy for the film makers, and the audience, and point out its importance in African-American film history, or you can sit down and try to watch the thing. I watched the thing. "Go Down, Death!" doesn't go down easily.
Made specifically for segregated African-American audiences in the 1940's, this heavy-handed Christian story is admirable for entertaining an oppressed segment of the population, but to be blunt- it's pretty awful. For a fifty-four minute film, this is padded all to hell, so to speak.
Young preacher Jasper (Samuel H. James) is ready to take on the owner of the local nightclub, Big Jim Bottoms (director Spencer Williams). Big Jim comes up with a plan to frame the preacher with some photographs showing him cavorting with three women and DRINKING! The convoluted plan works, and Jim shows off his pics to his adoptive mother Caroline (Myra Hemmings), who also happens to be the aunt to Bettie Jean, Jasper's girlfriend. Caroline does some mighty bigly praying, as the ghost of her dead husband helps her retrieve the photographs. The Lord does work in mysterious ways, as a major character dies, and Big Jim gets his Big Comeuppance.
From a technical point of view, this film is terrible. A "Harlemwood" production set in Savannah, Georgia, it looks like it was edited in a blender. The dialogue rarely syncs up, stock footage is used constantly, and except for Williams and the actress who plays Bettie Jean, the cast is at a loss. Caroline and Bettie Jean's roles were not credited in the film, there is just a list of the performers at the beginning and end of the footage. The screenplay was based on a story that was based on a poem, and something must have been lost in the adaptation. There is barely enough here to assemble a half hour short to be shown in church basements, much less almost an hour.
Sure, you can show sympathy for the film makers, and the audience, and point out its importance in African-American film history, or you can sit down and try to watch the thing. I watched the thing. "Go Down, Death!" doesn't go down easily.
My Tale Is Hot (1964)
*Get The Joys of Jezebel/My Tale is Hot on Amazon here*
This "nudie cutie" from the mid '60's is a painful film.
Lucifer (Max Gardens, billed as Manny Goodtimes) is bored in Hell and decides to try and entice the world's most faithful husband with a series of beautiful topless women. Jack Little, looking like a cross between Buddy Hackett and Eddie Munster, is the husband Ben-Hur Ova (get it? GET IT?). What follows over the next long sixty minutes is a series of awful, sleazy puns and jokes that makes Chuck Lorre look like Noel Coward, and tons of badly edited striptease routines.
The film may have been shot in a day, with the sometimes haggard-looking women added later. Candy Barr shows up only in a piece of one-reel, having nothing to do with the credited cast. And, oh, those credits. The performers and some of the crew are given stupid pun-laden names (the director is credited as Seymour Tokus...ha...). The film tries to be topical, mentioning "The Beverly Hillbillies," Walt Disney, and Playboy magazine, but some of the jokes are so old, and so bad, I honestly didn't "get" them. Gardens' clever asides to the camera also suck.
But we are here for the women! This was shot before genitalia could be shown onscreen, so we get topless women awkwardly showing off their backsides to the camera. The ladies must have taken the bus in from the afternoon show at the local burlesque club, none make an impression. Poor audiences back in the day had to endure a lot of stupid jokes and humor just to see a little skin, my heart goes out to them.
"My Tale is Hot" is pretty horrible, the same director would score better with "The Joys of Jezebel" a few years later.
This "nudie cutie" from the mid '60's is a painful film.
Lucifer (Max Gardens, billed as Manny Goodtimes) is bored in Hell and decides to try and entice the world's most faithful husband with a series of beautiful topless women. Jack Little, looking like a cross between Buddy Hackett and Eddie Munster, is the husband Ben-Hur Ova (get it? GET IT?). What follows over the next long sixty minutes is a series of awful, sleazy puns and jokes that makes Chuck Lorre look like Noel Coward, and tons of badly edited striptease routines.
The film may have been shot in a day, with the sometimes haggard-looking women added later. Candy Barr shows up only in a piece of one-reel, having nothing to do with the credited cast. And, oh, those credits. The performers and some of the crew are given stupid pun-laden names (the director is credited as Seymour Tokus...ha...). The film tries to be topical, mentioning "The Beverly Hillbillies," Walt Disney, and Playboy magazine, but some of the jokes are so old, and so bad, I honestly didn't "get" them. Gardens' clever asides to the camera also suck.
But we are here for the women! This was shot before genitalia could be shown onscreen, so we get topless women awkwardly showing off their backsides to the camera. The ladies must have taken the bus in from the afternoon show at the local burlesque club, none make an impression. Poor audiences back in the day had to endure a lot of stupid jokes and humor just to see a little skin, my heart goes out to them.
"My Tale is Hot" is pretty horrible, the same director would score better with "The Joys of Jezebel" a few years later.
Tuesday, August 12, 2025
Heaven's Gate (1980)
*Get "Heaven's Gate" on Amazon here*
Decades after its release, "Heaven's Gate" has become synonymous with the term "big budget disaster." Up until recently, when an expensive film bombed, this film was used as the watermark example of Hollywood spending gone mad- "Cutthroat Island," the unfairly maligned "Waterworld," the last few MCU/DCCU films, and so on. Watching it now, with the hoopla and criticism in the past, I can honestly say that while it was a financial disaster, its flaws were not just monetary.
Writer/director Michael Cimino, riding high on the success of the awesome "The Deer Hunter," decided to dramatize the 1870 Johnson County War, where mostly immigrant homesteaders settling in Wyoming were subject to harassment and eventually state-sponsored murder at the hands of the rich conglomerate cattle stockmen's association. It was farmers versus cattlemen, poor versus rich, immigrants versus citizens, them versus us. Caught in the middle of the conflict is a love triangle- sheriff James Averill (the almost always good Kris Kristofferson) and mercenary Nathan Champion (Christopher Walken) are both in love with cathouse madam Ella (Isabelle Huppert).
I watched the original 219 minute premiere version, which was later edited by almost an hour and released as the studio tried to recoup their losses. For such a long film, the plot is simple and straightforward, but populated by a giant cast of unnecessary characters. Averill's college best friend, Billy (John Hurt), is introduced in the now infamous opening scenes set at Harvard but filmed at Oxford, and is then relegated to the background, as if the film makers didn't have the heart to tell Hurt he was no longer needed. The same can be said for some of the talented names in small roles. The cast is stunning: in addition to Kristofferson, Walken, Huppert (who spends more screen time naked than clothed), and Hurt, you can see Jeff Bridges in what must have been a cameo awkwardly expanded to a supporting part, Brad Dourif, Joseph Cotten, Sam Waterston, Terry O'Quinn, Tom Noonan, Mickey Rourke, Geoffrey Lewis, Richard Masur, T-Bone Burnett, and Willem Dafoe. The set decoration/art direction (the film's only Oscar nomination) is spectacular. Vilmos Zsigmond's cinematography is pure visual art. Many scenes look painted and beautiful, smoky and orange/brown. There is a lot of money on the screen but Cimino's script needed to be taken in. The story has no focus, Averill is our obvious hero, but his motivations are as cloudy as Zsigmond's train shots. Waterston's Canton is an over-the-top evil villain, complete with a weaselly mustache. The cast of immigrants blend into one giant Yakov Smirnoff look-alike contest. The battle scenes, while appropriately chaotic, are difficult to discern. At one point, I was certain Bridges' character had been shot and killed, only to have him show up alive and well.
The direction is sometimes impressive, the first onscreen murder is an explosion of style and violence. However, for every scene like that, we get pablum like the bizarre and weak running joke about Averill's boots. Many scenes go on forever, like the Harvard scene and the skating rink speeches. The overuse of "The Blue Danube Waltz" only reminded me of "2001: A Space Odyssey." The class warfare exhibited here is appropriate in today's political climate, but the irony of this film almost bankrupting a studio and becoming the epitome of financial excess while championing "the little guy" is notable.
Careers were ruined, Cimino never seemed to recover- I found his later "The Sicilian" and "Desperate Hours" unwatchable and worse than "Heaven's Gate." Time supposedly heals all wounds, so you can view this film today for what it is- a bloated, pretty mess.
Decades after its release, "Heaven's Gate" has become synonymous with the term "big budget disaster." Up until recently, when an expensive film bombed, this film was used as the watermark example of Hollywood spending gone mad- "Cutthroat Island," the unfairly maligned "Waterworld," the last few MCU/DCCU films, and so on. Watching it now, with the hoopla and criticism in the past, I can honestly say that while it was a financial disaster, its flaws were not just monetary.
Writer/director Michael Cimino, riding high on the success of the awesome "The Deer Hunter," decided to dramatize the 1870 Johnson County War, where mostly immigrant homesteaders settling in Wyoming were subject to harassment and eventually state-sponsored murder at the hands of the rich conglomerate cattle stockmen's association. It was farmers versus cattlemen, poor versus rich, immigrants versus citizens, them versus us. Caught in the middle of the conflict is a love triangle- sheriff James Averill (the almost always good Kris Kristofferson) and mercenary Nathan Champion (Christopher Walken) are both in love with cathouse madam Ella (Isabelle Huppert).
I watched the original 219 minute premiere version, which was later edited by almost an hour and released as the studio tried to recoup their losses. For such a long film, the plot is simple and straightforward, but populated by a giant cast of unnecessary characters. Averill's college best friend, Billy (John Hurt), is introduced in the now infamous opening scenes set at Harvard but filmed at Oxford, and is then relegated to the background, as if the film makers didn't have the heart to tell Hurt he was no longer needed. The same can be said for some of the talented names in small roles. The cast is stunning: in addition to Kristofferson, Walken, Huppert (who spends more screen time naked than clothed), and Hurt, you can see Jeff Bridges in what must have been a cameo awkwardly expanded to a supporting part, Brad Dourif, Joseph Cotten, Sam Waterston, Terry O'Quinn, Tom Noonan, Mickey Rourke, Geoffrey Lewis, Richard Masur, T-Bone Burnett, and Willem Dafoe. The set decoration/art direction (the film's only Oscar nomination) is spectacular. Vilmos Zsigmond's cinematography is pure visual art. Many scenes look painted and beautiful, smoky and orange/brown. There is a lot of money on the screen but Cimino's script needed to be taken in. The story has no focus, Averill is our obvious hero, but his motivations are as cloudy as Zsigmond's train shots. Waterston's Canton is an over-the-top evil villain, complete with a weaselly mustache. The cast of immigrants blend into one giant Yakov Smirnoff look-alike contest. The battle scenes, while appropriately chaotic, are difficult to discern. At one point, I was certain Bridges' character had been shot and killed, only to have him show up alive and well.
The direction is sometimes impressive, the first onscreen murder is an explosion of style and violence. However, for every scene like that, we get pablum like the bizarre and weak running joke about Averill's boots. Many scenes go on forever, like the Harvard scene and the skating rink speeches. The overuse of "The Blue Danube Waltz" only reminded me of "2001: A Space Odyssey." The class warfare exhibited here is appropriate in today's political climate, but the irony of this film almost bankrupting a studio and becoming the epitome of financial excess while championing "the little guy" is notable.
Careers were ruined, Cimino never seemed to recover- I found his later "The Sicilian" and "Desperate Hours" unwatchable and worse than "Heaven's Gate." Time supposedly heals all wounds, so you can view this film today for what it is- a bloated, pretty mess.
Saberfrog (2009)
*Get "Saberfrog" on Amazon here*
What starts out as a slacker road comedy turns into a hardcore science fiction allegory that doesn't quite work.
Josh (J.D. Edmond) finally leaves his dot-com job, and finds out that his favorite sci-fi author has died. He was obsessed with the "Vanguard Epsilon" series, and now Josh is adrift. He decides to track down his friend Terrance (Reuben Tapp), now comfortably living with his wife. The pair also take up Terrance's ex, Laurel (Liz Mariani), who sings in an awful band, and Canadian underground porn-obsessed Bert (John Karyus). The group decide to head to their old campus, looking for closure in their lives, only to discover the liberal arts university has changed as well- you know, suicide cults, mind control, and disembodied voices- the usual.
Markham wrote and directed this film, and it is ambitious. The odd science fiction angle in the final act is hard to comprehend, until the viewer realizes Markham is appealing to the geek culture that goes through life in a state of perpetual escapism. Kudos to the screenplay for rounding out these characters. You may know some people like this, and some individual scenes stand out. Terrance's one-man show, and the fate of Josh's computer company are highlights. There are a few obviously improvised scenes that had me wincing, however. Markham's direction is mostly hand-held camerawork, luckily the cast seems game. The music and audio are all clean and done well. I was curious to see where the film would go, but I didn't expect the ending. You get an animated sequence, some special effects, but I never got a solid sense of what the series of books by the late sci-fi author meant to Josh (after the film's title is explained). The climax is preachy, and some of the performances suffer.
While I didn't expect the final third, the first hour of the film was solid enough to slightly recommend "Saberfrog."
What starts out as a slacker road comedy turns into a hardcore science fiction allegory that doesn't quite work.
Josh (J.D. Edmond) finally leaves his dot-com job, and finds out that his favorite sci-fi author has died. He was obsessed with the "Vanguard Epsilon" series, and now Josh is adrift. He decides to track down his friend Terrance (Reuben Tapp), now comfortably living with his wife. The pair also take up Terrance's ex, Laurel (Liz Mariani), who sings in an awful band, and Canadian underground porn-obsessed Bert (John Karyus). The group decide to head to their old campus, looking for closure in their lives, only to discover the liberal arts university has changed as well- you know, suicide cults, mind control, and disembodied voices- the usual.
Markham wrote and directed this film, and it is ambitious. The odd science fiction angle in the final act is hard to comprehend, until the viewer realizes Markham is appealing to the geek culture that goes through life in a state of perpetual escapism. Kudos to the screenplay for rounding out these characters. You may know some people like this, and some individual scenes stand out. Terrance's one-man show, and the fate of Josh's computer company are highlights. There are a few obviously improvised scenes that had me wincing, however. Markham's direction is mostly hand-held camerawork, luckily the cast seems game. The music and audio are all clean and done well. I was curious to see where the film would go, but I didn't expect the ending. You get an animated sequence, some special effects, but I never got a solid sense of what the series of books by the late sci-fi author meant to Josh (after the film's title is explained). The climax is preachy, and some of the performances suffer.
While I didn't expect the final third, the first hour of the film was solid enough to slightly recommend "Saberfrog."
Skull World (2013)
*Get "Skull World" on Amazon here*
Justin McConnell finally fills that "eccentric Canadian who wears a skull mask and hits people with cardboard weapons" documentary niche that we all needed in our lives.
Greg Sommer lives in his mother's basement, works at a cemetery, and does freelance video work on the side. He is obsessed with heavy metal music, and his "room" is a giant space filled with big boy toys. He hears about a new competition from Australia that gets him and his friends very excited- three Aussies have created Box Wars, where competitors dress in armor made of cardboard and, wielding cardboard weapons, beat their fellow soldiers until their armor falls off, and then that warrior is "out". Sommer has created an alter ego, Skull Man, and with his quirky sense of humor and his video work, embraces Box Wars, instigating competitions in his native Canada. What starts out as a few of his friends getting together turns bigger and bigger, and Sommer begins feeling the pressure of running the entire operation himself.
McConnell's film runs one hundred minutes, and in the first half hour, I was wondering why this wasn't a short documentary. A little Sommer goes a long way. McConnell gets into a competition himself, the Box Wars take off, and I couldn't figure out what more could be gleaned from the film. But then Sommer begins relieving stress by doing odd things like taking hallucinogenics, and going UFO hunting. He tries to come off as a wild and crazy guy (there's a little too much footage of his friends telling us how wonderful he is), but he is dumping thousands of dollars into these Box Wars with little to no return on his investment. The best segment of the film has Sommer travelling to the home of Box Wars, Australia, and meeting the game's three creators and finding out how they do things Down Under. McConnell does a great job exposing Sommer's faults as well as his positives. He is close to his subject, but allows some warts to show through. The editing and camerawork are great. Sommer was involved in the film's production, but this doesn't turn into a feature length infomercial for Box Wars. Sommer's weirdness does threaten to sabotage a few efforts to sell Box Wars.
Aside from a few too many glowing testimonials in a film that runs ten minutes too long, "Skull World" is an entertaining documentary that lets the viewer peek into this odd corner of Canada.
Justin McConnell finally fills that "eccentric Canadian who wears a skull mask and hits people with cardboard weapons" documentary niche that we all needed in our lives.
Greg Sommer lives in his mother's basement, works at a cemetery, and does freelance video work on the side. He is obsessed with heavy metal music, and his "room" is a giant space filled with big boy toys. He hears about a new competition from Australia that gets him and his friends very excited- three Aussies have created Box Wars, where competitors dress in armor made of cardboard and, wielding cardboard weapons, beat their fellow soldiers until their armor falls off, and then that warrior is "out". Sommer has created an alter ego, Skull Man, and with his quirky sense of humor and his video work, embraces Box Wars, instigating competitions in his native Canada. What starts out as a few of his friends getting together turns bigger and bigger, and Sommer begins feeling the pressure of running the entire operation himself.
McConnell's film runs one hundred minutes, and in the first half hour, I was wondering why this wasn't a short documentary. A little Sommer goes a long way. McConnell gets into a competition himself, the Box Wars take off, and I couldn't figure out what more could be gleaned from the film. But then Sommer begins relieving stress by doing odd things like taking hallucinogenics, and going UFO hunting. He tries to come off as a wild and crazy guy (there's a little too much footage of his friends telling us how wonderful he is), but he is dumping thousands of dollars into these Box Wars with little to no return on his investment. The best segment of the film has Sommer travelling to the home of Box Wars, Australia, and meeting the game's three creators and finding out how they do things Down Under. McConnell does a great job exposing Sommer's faults as well as his positives. He is close to his subject, but allows some warts to show through. The editing and camerawork are great. Sommer was involved in the film's production, but this doesn't turn into a feature length infomercial for Box Wars. Sommer's weirdness does threaten to sabotage a few efforts to sell Box Wars.
Aside from a few too many glowing testimonials in a film that runs ten minutes too long, "Skull World" is an entertaining documentary that lets the viewer peek into this odd corner of Canada.
Local Legends (2013)
*Get "Local Legends" on Amazon here*
The co-creator of such films as "Don't Let the Riverbeast Get You!", and writer of tens of thousands of songs, decides to turn the camera on himself, with very pleasing results.
Matt Farley writes and directs this quasi-documentary about being a recording artist and film maker in Manchester, New Hampshire. He randomly leaves his products around town, where he walks constantly, works a job, lives cheaply, and is able to put out music, films, and books when he isn't doing his so-bad-it's-hilarious stand-up comedy routine. A couple of women show an interest in him, he plays fantasy one-on-one basketball games with his friend Soup, and he deals with an alter ego, also played by Farley, who decides this very film should be used to sell more of his music- which he keeps mentioning is available on iTunes, under dozens of different band names.
Obviously a labor of love, this film is much different from the films Farley appears in that are directed by Charles Roxburgh. Farley answers critics like me who don't get his earlier films, and in doing so, makes a better film than his Roxburgh collaborations up to this point. This isn't a contest with Roxburgh to see who can make a more appealing movie, this is simply Farley on his own, and the film is nicely directed in black & white, recalling "Stardust Memories" and "8 1/2". There are a ton of familiar faces from Farley's past films here but you won't need to be familiar with them in order to understand what he is getting at. The highlight of the film is a comedy showcase in a basement that had me laughing. Farley dealing with his life outside of Shock Marathons and monster movie work has shown he can tackle introspective comedy, and he comes up with his best work- a charming effort that I was immediately taken with.
"Local Legends" is good stuff. You can find more information on it at Motern Media or you can call Farley directly. No doxing here, he gives his phone number out in all his music and movies, and according to this film, he would love to hear from you. Followed by "Local Legends: Bloodbath."
The co-creator of such films as "Don't Let the Riverbeast Get You!", and writer of tens of thousands of songs, decides to turn the camera on himself, with very pleasing results.
Matt Farley writes and directs this quasi-documentary about being a recording artist and film maker in Manchester, New Hampshire. He randomly leaves his products around town, where he walks constantly, works a job, lives cheaply, and is able to put out music, films, and books when he isn't doing his so-bad-it's-hilarious stand-up comedy routine. A couple of women show an interest in him, he plays fantasy one-on-one basketball games with his friend Soup, and he deals with an alter ego, also played by Farley, who decides this very film should be used to sell more of his music- which he keeps mentioning is available on iTunes, under dozens of different band names.
Obviously a labor of love, this film is much different from the films Farley appears in that are directed by Charles Roxburgh. Farley answers critics like me who don't get his earlier films, and in doing so, makes a better film than his Roxburgh collaborations up to this point. This isn't a contest with Roxburgh to see who can make a more appealing movie, this is simply Farley on his own, and the film is nicely directed in black & white, recalling "Stardust Memories" and "8 1/2". There are a ton of familiar faces from Farley's past films here but you won't need to be familiar with them in order to understand what he is getting at. The highlight of the film is a comedy showcase in a basement that had me laughing. Farley dealing with his life outside of Shock Marathons and monster movie work has shown he can tackle introspective comedy, and he comes up with his best work- a charming effort that I was immediately taken with.
"Local Legends" is good stuff. You can find more information on it at Motern Media or you can call Farley directly. No doxing here, he gives his phone number out in all his music and movies, and according to this film, he would love to hear from you. Followed by "Local Legends: Bloodbath."
Music of the Heart (1999)
*Get "Music of the Heart" on Amazon here*
Wes Craven directs Oscar winner Meryl Streep in a blood drenched tale of classical music, horsehair violin bows, and revenge...okay, not really.
Streep is Roberta, a single mom who moves back home with her mother (an underused Cloris Leachman), and decides what she needs to do next. She meets with old friend Brian (Aidan Quinn), and gets a tip about the needs for inner city music teachers, gathers her moxie and spunk, wins over Principal Williams (Angela Bassett), and begins teaching violin to the youths. At home, her confidence is shattered as she deals with the break-up of her marriage, and Brian's fear of commitment, but her abrasive style at the schools wins the grudging respect of her students. After a few tumultuous relationships, students, and years, her position is threatened, and Roberta must go to extraordinary lengths to both help the kids and keep her job.
Based on a true story, which was documented in the film "Small Wonders," "Music of the Heart" is good. All caps GOOD. Craven took some heat for going outside the horror genre that made his career, and while his direction is not flashy, it has no edge as well- same with the script by Pamela Gray. The story takes place in inner city New York City schools, but the PG-rated film does not show us how these children benefit from the East Harlem Violin Program. When a situations arises (the angry mother, the jerk music teacher, a kid is shot in a drive-by), it is solved by Streep with a heartfelt monologue or hug, and then everyone goes back to rehearsing their violin. A tougher approach to the material might have made the program seem more beneficial to the viewer. The Oscar familiar cast is pretty good, considering the material. Quinn is always reliable, but he doesn't play a character here, he plays a plot device- we need Brian to show us how Roberta toughens up and changes, and I did not believe he existed in real life for one second. The scenes leading up to a triumphant concert at Carnegie Hall are beautifully done, and Streep is game to carrying the entire film. She isn't as tough as the real-life Roberta came across in "Small Wonders," but she is still good. A younger Anne Bancroft would have had a field day with this role. Gloria Estefan is also good in her acting debut, but again, isn't given that much to do.
"Music of the Heart" is a treacly, awful title. It sounds like one of those horrible made-for-television films you find on basic cable at noon on a weekday. It's too bad Craven couldn't go the David Cronenberg route, able to parlay a horror career into even more interesting material. Instead, we get GOOD. He, and we, should have demanded GREAT. Give this one a look, get warm and fuzzy, and move on.
Wes Craven directs Oscar winner Meryl Streep in a blood drenched tale of classical music, horsehair violin bows, and revenge...okay, not really.
Streep is Roberta, a single mom who moves back home with her mother (an underused Cloris Leachman), and decides what she needs to do next. She meets with old friend Brian (Aidan Quinn), and gets a tip about the needs for inner city music teachers, gathers her moxie and spunk, wins over Principal Williams (Angela Bassett), and begins teaching violin to the youths. At home, her confidence is shattered as she deals with the break-up of her marriage, and Brian's fear of commitment, but her abrasive style at the schools wins the grudging respect of her students. After a few tumultuous relationships, students, and years, her position is threatened, and Roberta must go to extraordinary lengths to both help the kids and keep her job.
Based on a true story, which was documented in the film "Small Wonders," "Music of the Heart" is good. All caps GOOD. Craven took some heat for going outside the horror genre that made his career, and while his direction is not flashy, it has no edge as well- same with the script by Pamela Gray. The story takes place in inner city New York City schools, but the PG-rated film does not show us how these children benefit from the East Harlem Violin Program. When a situations arises (the angry mother, the jerk music teacher, a kid is shot in a drive-by), it is solved by Streep with a heartfelt monologue or hug, and then everyone goes back to rehearsing their violin. A tougher approach to the material might have made the program seem more beneficial to the viewer. The Oscar familiar cast is pretty good, considering the material. Quinn is always reliable, but he doesn't play a character here, he plays a plot device- we need Brian to show us how Roberta toughens up and changes, and I did not believe he existed in real life for one second. The scenes leading up to a triumphant concert at Carnegie Hall are beautifully done, and Streep is game to carrying the entire film. She isn't as tough as the real-life Roberta came across in "Small Wonders," but she is still good. A younger Anne Bancroft would have had a field day with this role. Gloria Estefan is also good in her acting debut, but again, isn't given that much to do.
"Music of the Heart" is a treacly, awful title. It sounds like one of those horrible made-for-television films you find on basic cable at noon on a weekday. It's too bad Craven couldn't go the David Cronenberg route, able to parlay a horror career into even more interesting material. Instead, we get GOOD. He, and we, should have demanded GREAT. Give this one a look, get warm and fuzzy, and move on.
Small Wonders (1995)
*Get "Small Wonders" on Amazon here*
An inspiring documentary that spawned an Academy Award nominated feature film, "Small Wonders" deftly avoids many expected cliches.
Roberta Guaspari is a music teacher who serves three different elementary schools in New York City. Because of budget cuts, her violin program is on the chopping block, but a benefit concert is being held at Carnegie Hall, and the film makers follow Roberta around as she readies her sometimes unruly kids for the big night.
Director Miller's camera is unobtrusive, and the talking heads are kept to a minimum. I thought Guaspari would be a pie-eyed teacher spending the film talking about the magical innocence of children, but she is tough with her students. They seem to respond, using the discipline of learning the violin to improve other areas of their lives. The film makers follow one student, Jose, and his family, but she calls him out on his errors just as often as she does the other children. One scene has her kicking a student out for forgetting her violin on practice day, and not missing a beat keeping the other kids in line. The highlight of the film is the Fiddlefest concert, and a jaw dropping segment featuring over a dozen famous violinists paired with some of Roberta's students. The sequence is pretty amazing, whether you are familiar with classical music or not.
Technically, the film is average. Shot on video, it looks older than it is. I would be interested in seeing an update on some of the kids we meet, and Roberta herself. This film was nominated for a Best Documentary Oscar, and fictionalized in "Music of the Heart" starring Meryl Streep as Roberta.
"Small Wonders" is a small film with a big voice. Some of the hippie-dippie staff and teachers at the alternative schools are funny, but Roberta plugs along, teaching her way. This film is a must for educators everywhere, and happens to entertain the rest of us as well.
An inspiring documentary that spawned an Academy Award nominated feature film, "Small Wonders" deftly avoids many expected cliches.
Roberta Guaspari is a music teacher who serves three different elementary schools in New York City. Because of budget cuts, her violin program is on the chopping block, but a benefit concert is being held at Carnegie Hall, and the film makers follow Roberta around as she readies her sometimes unruly kids for the big night.
Director Miller's camera is unobtrusive, and the talking heads are kept to a minimum. I thought Guaspari would be a pie-eyed teacher spending the film talking about the magical innocence of children, but she is tough with her students. They seem to respond, using the discipline of learning the violin to improve other areas of their lives. The film makers follow one student, Jose, and his family, but she calls him out on his errors just as often as she does the other children. One scene has her kicking a student out for forgetting her violin on practice day, and not missing a beat keeping the other kids in line. The highlight of the film is the Fiddlefest concert, and a jaw dropping segment featuring over a dozen famous violinists paired with some of Roberta's students. The sequence is pretty amazing, whether you are familiar with classical music or not.
Technically, the film is average. Shot on video, it looks older than it is. I would be interested in seeing an update on some of the kids we meet, and Roberta herself. This film was nominated for a Best Documentary Oscar, and fictionalized in "Music of the Heart" starring Meryl Streep as Roberta.
"Small Wonders" is a small film with a big voice. Some of the hippie-dippie staff and teachers at the alternative schools are funny, but Roberta plugs along, teaching her way. This film is a must for educators everywhere, and happens to entertain the rest of us as well.
Monday, August 11, 2025
Gandu (2010)
*Get "Gandu" on Amazon here*
"Gandu" is a hardcore and fast-paced experimental look at the life of a young aspiring rapper growing up in India. Anubrata Basu is Gandu, who lives with his youngish-looking mother (Kamalika Banerjee) who makes a living sleeping with the owner of the local internet cafe, Das Babu (Shilajit Majumdar). Gandu doesn't work, and hangs around the cafe and back streets of his hometown, constantly playing a lottery and losing. He literally runs into ricksha driver/Bruce Lee worshipper Ricksha (Joyraj Bhattacharya), and the two become friends. The duo begins dabbling in drugs, and the film takes a bizarre turn into the Gandu's downward spiral. The director Qaushiq Mukherjee makes a cameo appearance in the film, playing a director of a film entitled "Gandu"...
While the film is light on plot, "Gandu" is heavy with showy editing and enough bells and whistles to keep the viewer interested. Director/co-writer Quashiq Mukherjee turns many film cliches on end. The film's credits are placed at an odd point in the running time. The black and white photography gives way to blinding, saturated color toward the end, and this does feature some very un-Bollywood hardcore sex scenes. Even the subtitles are played with, brilliantly. I am not a fan of rap or hip-hop by any stretch of the imagination, but Gandu's angry and explosive raps are very good, and Q (as the director was originally credited) films them in such a way that I appreciated both the use of the songs as characterization, as well as the songs themselves.
My one major drawback with the film is the almost nonexistent plot. Watching a character descend into a drug-induced life has been done before, and while Mukherjee brings all sorts of new ideas to his film technically, he comes up short with any sort of character arc. Some of the main plot points that occur are telegraphed undeliberately, and I got the feeling that I was having a bait-and-switch being pulled on me. That being said, not many out there can say they have seen a film like "Gandu" before. The drug hallucination scenes are simple and creepy. The cast is excellent, with Basu anchoring everything well. His Gandu is not nobly angry, and not unlikable. He is a confused, pained young man who I eventually came to care about. The supporting cast is all good, and the setting is gritty and unexotic, losing the viewer in this dark world. Much has been made of the film's sex scenes, but this is one of the few films I have seen where they actually add to the entire experience. They are not erotic, they play realistically, although you wonder where the hallucinations end and the sex and success begin.
Throughout "Gandu" I kept thinking back to Abel Ferrara's body of work. This film is grim and fascinating, and not one you will soon forget.
"Gandu" is a hardcore and fast-paced experimental look at the life of a young aspiring rapper growing up in India. Anubrata Basu is Gandu, who lives with his youngish-looking mother (Kamalika Banerjee) who makes a living sleeping with the owner of the local internet cafe, Das Babu (Shilajit Majumdar). Gandu doesn't work, and hangs around the cafe and back streets of his hometown, constantly playing a lottery and losing. He literally runs into ricksha driver/Bruce Lee worshipper Ricksha (Joyraj Bhattacharya), and the two become friends. The duo begins dabbling in drugs, and the film takes a bizarre turn into the Gandu's downward spiral. The director Qaushiq Mukherjee makes a cameo appearance in the film, playing a director of a film entitled "Gandu"...
While the film is light on plot, "Gandu" is heavy with showy editing and enough bells and whistles to keep the viewer interested. Director/co-writer Quashiq Mukherjee turns many film cliches on end. The film's credits are placed at an odd point in the running time. The black and white photography gives way to blinding, saturated color toward the end, and this does feature some very un-Bollywood hardcore sex scenes. Even the subtitles are played with, brilliantly. I am not a fan of rap or hip-hop by any stretch of the imagination, but Gandu's angry and explosive raps are very good, and Q (as the director was originally credited) films them in such a way that I appreciated both the use of the songs as characterization, as well as the songs themselves.
My one major drawback with the film is the almost nonexistent plot. Watching a character descend into a drug-induced life has been done before, and while Mukherjee brings all sorts of new ideas to his film technically, he comes up short with any sort of character arc. Some of the main plot points that occur are telegraphed undeliberately, and I got the feeling that I was having a bait-and-switch being pulled on me. That being said, not many out there can say they have seen a film like "Gandu" before. The drug hallucination scenes are simple and creepy. The cast is excellent, with Basu anchoring everything well. His Gandu is not nobly angry, and not unlikable. He is a confused, pained young man who I eventually came to care about. The supporting cast is all good, and the setting is gritty and unexotic, losing the viewer in this dark world. Much has been made of the film's sex scenes, but this is one of the few films I have seen where they actually add to the entire experience. They are not erotic, they play realistically, although you wonder where the hallucinations end and the sex and success begin.
Throughout "Gandu" I kept thinking back to Abel Ferrara's body of work. This film is grim and fascinating, and not one you will soon forget.
Theresa Is a Mother (2015)
*Get "Theresa Is a Mother" on Amazon here*
Theresa (C. Fraser Press) is an unsuccessful singer in New York City, freshly evicted from her apartment with her three daughters. She drives back to her hometown, stays with her parents Roy and Cloris (the excellent Richard Poe and Edie McClurg), and tries to find work in the small town. There is a family tragedy that haunts Theresa, and has never really been addressed by her parents. As her daughters try to fit in, and Roy and Cloris' lives are disrupted, Theresa tries to balance responsibility and her rebellious attitude.
This is not one of those "I don't need a man to stand on my own" stories. Theresa is, in fact, a mess. Her punk-inspired songs are atrocious. Her relationship with her parents is so strained, they don't recognize their own granddaughters. She does finally get a job mowing lawns by under-bidding Seth, the only local Jewish boy (Matthew Gumley), and is later hired by the boy's clueless father to write a song for a bar mitzvah. Part of the charm of the film is that Theresa and her family are so flawed. The cast is outstanding, across the board. The Press daughters are professional and turn in actual performances. McClurg and Poe have a great chemistry, and play the broad comic scenes (the hot tub parties) as well as the dramatic very well. C. Fraser Press wrote the screenplay, knows Theresa inside and out, and triumphs in the role. It's a very fine line between sympathy and quirky, and Press walks that line well. I did not find any of the characters irritating, they all have a charm of their own- even the minor ones like the prostitutes hanging out in front of Theresa's apartment building, and the TV preacher/cook.
The Press' direction and use of widescreen is lovely. The scenes of Theresa riding around on a child's bike looking for work in the small town are nothing short of classic. Daughter Maggie's (Schuyler Press) forced friendship with Seth is well written. The editing is quick for a story that isn't all plot all the time, some of the best scenes are the interaction between Theresa and either her daughters or her parents.
The Press family does an incredible job in "Theresa Is a Mother." One or two scenes don't work, but as a whole, the film is funny and I loved all the characters. What more could I ask for?
Theresa (C. Fraser Press) is an unsuccessful singer in New York City, freshly evicted from her apartment with her three daughters. She drives back to her hometown, stays with her parents Roy and Cloris (the excellent Richard Poe and Edie McClurg), and tries to find work in the small town. There is a family tragedy that haunts Theresa, and has never really been addressed by her parents. As her daughters try to fit in, and Roy and Cloris' lives are disrupted, Theresa tries to balance responsibility and her rebellious attitude.
This is not one of those "I don't need a man to stand on my own" stories. Theresa is, in fact, a mess. Her punk-inspired songs are atrocious. Her relationship with her parents is so strained, they don't recognize their own granddaughters. She does finally get a job mowing lawns by under-bidding Seth, the only local Jewish boy (Matthew Gumley), and is later hired by the boy's clueless father to write a song for a bar mitzvah. Part of the charm of the film is that Theresa and her family are so flawed. The cast is outstanding, across the board. The Press daughters are professional and turn in actual performances. McClurg and Poe have a great chemistry, and play the broad comic scenes (the hot tub parties) as well as the dramatic very well. C. Fraser Press wrote the screenplay, knows Theresa inside and out, and triumphs in the role. It's a very fine line between sympathy and quirky, and Press walks that line well. I did not find any of the characters irritating, they all have a charm of their own- even the minor ones like the prostitutes hanging out in front of Theresa's apartment building, and the TV preacher/cook.
The Press' direction and use of widescreen is lovely. The scenes of Theresa riding around on a child's bike looking for work in the small town are nothing short of classic. Daughter Maggie's (Schuyler Press) forced friendship with Seth is well written. The editing is quick for a story that isn't all plot all the time, some of the best scenes are the interaction between Theresa and either her daughters or her parents.
The Press family does an incredible job in "Theresa Is a Mother." One or two scenes don't work, but as a whole, the film is funny and I loved all the characters. What more could I ask for?
Lovelace (2013)
*Get "Lovelace" on Amazon here*
Linda Boreman's tale is a cautionary one. Blinded by love for the wrong man, she would end up being coerced into doing anything to make him happy and save her own life. This biopic shows us the rise and fall of porn icon Linda Lovelace, but unfortunately, it's a story you know all to well.
Twenty year old Linda (Amanda Seyfried) is in Florida, living at home with her stern mother (Sharon Stone) and nice father (Robert Patrick). Linda meets up with Chuck Traynor (Peter Sarsgaard), a ne'er-do-well who instantly attracts the repressed young woman, still being punished for having a baby out of wedlock- the child was put up for adoption, against Linda's wishes. Chuck charms the parents, but after she comes home late and is slapped by her mother, Linda moves out of the house and into the arms of Chuck. Things go okay for a while, until Chuck gets into some legal trouble with his bar, and convinces Linda to go into porn as a way for them to make money. It's the '70's, so why not? After one of the film's best scenes- the audition where Chuck shows the film makers a home movie of Linda's oral talents, Linda finds herself shooting "Deep Throat" with very nice leading man Harry Reems (a good Adam Brody, who looks nothing like Reems), and Chuck is left out in the cold. The film catapults Lovelace to superstardom. As the film makers get to the halfway point of the story, she is taking bows at a screening where she has met Hugh Hefner (James Franco) and other celebrities.
Fast forward six years later, and Lovelace is taking a lie detector test from Eric Roberts (one of the film's many "huh?" cameos). She is ready to write a book about what really happened behind the scenes, and her relationship with Chuck, who she had divorced. Now remarried and living a normal suburban life, Lovelace tells the harrowing tale of physical abuse at the hands of her ex-husband, and that "Deep Throat" is nothing more than a week-long filmed sexual coercion.
The documentary film makers Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman have branched out into docudramas, and created "Howl," one of the best films of 2010. This take on the porn industry of the 1970's is an important story, but coming on the heels of the better "Boogie Nights" and the documentary "Inside Deep Throat," it feels unnecessary. I never saw "Deep Throat," but I did have the misfortune to sit through "The Confessions of Linda Lovelace," which featured an actress wearing a veil and outtakes from the original film. I read both of Lovelace's books that she co-wrote with Mike McGrady, Ordeal and Out of Bondage, and they are harrowing tomes- shocking and salacious. Lovelace's honesty was questioned often about how much coercion was actually involved, but her supporters point to her seemingly willing behavior on set (unlike the film suggests, she made more than one pornographic film, as well as some softcore movies) as an example of post-traumatic stress disorder and being in an abusive relationship.
I bring up Lovelace's books because the writing of Ordeal figures prominently in the film. If Epstein and Friedman had "gone there," the film may have been stronger. Instead, the "good girl gone bad" plot is dragged out. The film is barely an hour and a half, and could have been double that with the amount of situations Lovelace found herself in before, during, and after her infamous fifteen minutes of fame. Seyfried looks the part, and does a nice job portraying Lovelace. She even resembles Sharon Stone a little bit, and their scenes crackle, especially when Linda returns home begging to stay. Another fantastic home life scene is a wrenching telephone conversation between Linda and her father, who saw his daughter's film and had to walk out. Really great stuff, and the film should have featured more of that. We never get any information regarding what Linda's second husband and children thought of her porn past, even though her children served as consultants to the producers.
The film makers hinge their story on Andy Bellin's screenwriting trick of telling us "what really happened" in the second half of the film, but there is none of the imaginative energy that made "Howl" so special. The film looks amazing- the costuming, the editing, and the soundtrack are all top notch. I don't know if the film was tampered with in post-production, but I am curious to see what was left on the cutting room floor. There is no confidence to "Lovelace." Did the film makers decide no one remembers "Star 80," so we'll go that route? Val Kilmer in "Wonderland" presented an excellent look at a porn performer caught up in the debauchery of the times. Instead, excellent turns by Hank Azaria and Chris Noth are forgotten in the midst of cameos like Chloe Sevigny's two-second, one-line credited performance.
Linda Lovelace died in a car accident in 2002, and her story is still being told and talked about. In this instance, her books are much better than this film.
Linda Boreman's tale is a cautionary one. Blinded by love for the wrong man, she would end up being coerced into doing anything to make him happy and save her own life. This biopic shows us the rise and fall of porn icon Linda Lovelace, but unfortunately, it's a story you know all to well.
Twenty year old Linda (Amanda Seyfried) is in Florida, living at home with her stern mother (Sharon Stone) and nice father (Robert Patrick). Linda meets up with Chuck Traynor (Peter Sarsgaard), a ne'er-do-well who instantly attracts the repressed young woman, still being punished for having a baby out of wedlock- the child was put up for adoption, against Linda's wishes. Chuck charms the parents, but after she comes home late and is slapped by her mother, Linda moves out of the house and into the arms of Chuck. Things go okay for a while, until Chuck gets into some legal trouble with his bar, and convinces Linda to go into porn as a way for them to make money. It's the '70's, so why not? After one of the film's best scenes- the audition where Chuck shows the film makers a home movie of Linda's oral talents, Linda finds herself shooting "Deep Throat" with very nice leading man Harry Reems (a good Adam Brody, who looks nothing like Reems), and Chuck is left out in the cold. The film catapults Lovelace to superstardom. As the film makers get to the halfway point of the story, she is taking bows at a screening where she has met Hugh Hefner (James Franco) and other celebrities.
Fast forward six years later, and Lovelace is taking a lie detector test from Eric Roberts (one of the film's many "huh?" cameos). She is ready to write a book about what really happened behind the scenes, and her relationship with Chuck, who she had divorced. Now remarried and living a normal suburban life, Lovelace tells the harrowing tale of physical abuse at the hands of her ex-husband, and that "Deep Throat" is nothing more than a week-long filmed sexual coercion.
The documentary film makers Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman have branched out into docudramas, and created "Howl," one of the best films of 2010. This take on the porn industry of the 1970's is an important story, but coming on the heels of the better "Boogie Nights" and the documentary "Inside Deep Throat," it feels unnecessary. I never saw "Deep Throat," but I did have the misfortune to sit through "The Confessions of Linda Lovelace," which featured an actress wearing a veil and outtakes from the original film. I read both of Lovelace's books that she co-wrote with Mike McGrady, Ordeal and Out of Bondage, and they are harrowing tomes- shocking and salacious. Lovelace's honesty was questioned often about how much coercion was actually involved, but her supporters point to her seemingly willing behavior on set (unlike the film suggests, she made more than one pornographic film, as well as some softcore movies) as an example of post-traumatic stress disorder and being in an abusive relationship.
I bring up Lovelace's books because the writing of Ordeal figures prominently in the film. If Epstein and Friedman had "gone there," the film may have been stronger. Instead, the "good girl gone bad" plot is dragged out. The film is barely an hour and a half, and could have been double that with the amount of situations Lovelace found herself in before, during, and after her infamous fifteen minutes of fame. Seyfried looks the part, and does a nice job portraying Lovelace. She even resembles Sharon Stone a little bit, and their scenes crackle, especially when Linda returns home begging to stay. Another fantastic home life scene is a wrenching telephone conversation between Linda and her father, who saw his daughter's film and had to walk out. Really great stuff, and the film should have featured more of that. We never get any information regarding what Linda's second husband and children thought of her porn past, even though her children served as consultants to the producers.
The film makers hinge their story on Andy Bellin's screenwriting trick of telling us "what really happened" in the second half of the film, but there is none of the imaginative energy that made "Howl" so special. The film looks amazing- the costuming, the editing, and the soundtrack are all top notch. I don't know if the film was tampered with in post-production, but I am curious to see what was left on the cutting room floor. There is no confidence to "Lovelace." Did the film makers decide no one remembers "Star 80," so we'll go that route? Val Kilmer in "Wonderland" presented an excellent look at a porn performer caught up in the debauchery of the times. Instead, excellent turns by Hank Azaria and Chris Noth are forgotten in the midst of cameos like Chloe Sevigny's two-second, one-line credited performance.
Linda Lovelace died in a car accident in 2002, and her story is still being told and talked about. In this instance, her books are much better than this film.
Death of a Prophet (1981)
*Get The River Niger/Death of a Prophet on Amazon here*
Morgan Freeman portraying Malcolm X should have been a sure thing, but his very good performance is swallowed up in this awkwardly staged experimental film.
On the surface, and the myriad DVD covers (this film was in the public domain and subject to a ton of releases), this hour long story chronicles the last day in the life of Malcolm X before he was gunned down in New York City during a speech in February of 1965. However, writer/director Woodie King, Jr. throws in many anachronisms, turning this into a strange drama. Freeman wanders around 1965 Harlem, but encounters hippies, and discusses the deaths of the both assassinated Kennedy brothers and Martin Luther King, Jr. The automobiles in the film are obviously contemporary to when this was made. Malcolm X goes about his mundane errands, and the camera follows, making this film seem longer.
Freeman looks wrong in the role, he resembles Cornel West more than anyone, but he brings a nice gravity to the film. We don't get to hear his distinctive voice until almost a quarter of the way into the story, but Ossie Davis and Amiri Baraka are present to talk about the day Malcolm X was shot, and its effect on the Black community. Technically, the editing is sloppy, the sets are cheap, and characters are introduced without any backing information- the assassination conspirators are given almost as much screen time as Freeman. Yolanda King, daughter of Martin Luther King, Jr., plays Betty Shabazz pretty well. It's unsettling to have scenes concerning a firebombing of the couple's home, considering the way Betty Shabazz died decades later. Also known as "The Death of a Prophet."
As a stand-alone film, "Death of a Prophet" is an interesting failure.
Morgan Freeman portraying Malcolm X should have been a sure thing, but his very good performance is swallowed up in this awkwardly staged experimental film.
On the surface, and the myriad DVD covers (this film was in the public domain and subject to a ton of releases), this hour long story chronicles the last day in the life of Malcolm X before he was gunned down in New York City during a speech in February of 1965. However, writer/director Woodie King, Jr. throws in many anachronisms, turning this into a strange drama. Freeman wanders around 1965 Harlem, but encounters hippies, and discusses the deaths of the both assassinated Kennedy brothers and Martin Luther King, Jr. The automobiles in the film are obviously contemporary to when this was made. Malcolm X goes about his mundane errands, and the camera follows, making this film seem longer.
Freeman looks wrong in the role, he resembles Cornel West more than anyone, but he brings a nice gravity to the film. We don't get to hear his distinctive voice until almost a quarter of the way into the story, but Ossie Davis and Amiri Baraka are present to talk about the day Malcolm X was shot, and its effect on the Black community. Technically, the editing is sloppy, the sets are cheap, and characters are introduced without any backing information- the assassination conspirators are given almost as much screen time as Freeman. Yolanda King, daughter of Martin Luther King, Jr., plays Betty Shabazz pretty well. It's unsettling to have scenes concerning a firebombing of the couple's home, considering the way Betty Shabazz died decades later. Also known as "The Death of a Prophet."
As a stand-alone film, "Death of a Prophet" is an interesting failure.
Little Buddha (1993)
*Get "Little Buddha" on Amazon here*
Bernardo Bertolucci returned to the same fertile ground that garnered his outstanding "The Last Emperor" Academy Award gold, and comes up with a half-hearted attempt to tell the story of Siddhartha.
In Bhutan, Lama Norbu (Ruocheng Ying, the only cast member who should have been awarded an Oscar nod) receives good news. Thanks to a vivid dream from another Buddhist monk, Norbu is convinced that his deceased teacher may have been reborn in Seattle, Washington. He flies to the United States, meets with some American monks, and they set upon the brand new house owned by Dean and Lisa (Chris Isaak and Bridget Fonda), and the object of their inquiry- Jesse (a pretty good Alex Wiesendanger). The monks are very nice, and win over Lisa right away. Dean is having problems at work, and isn't warming up to the idea that his blonde six year old is the reincarnation of some Buddhist monk. Norbu leaves a children's book for Jesse, and we are introduced to the parallel story of the film. The book tells the over-two-thousand-year-old story of Prince Siddhartha (Keanu Reeves), a pampered young man who is hidden from the negativity of the world by his father, until he finally ventures beyond the city gates one day and discovers that the world does not exist merely to make him happy. He takes it upon himself to end suffering, and in the process becomes "enlightened," a Buddha. Bertolucci cuts back and forth between the story of Jesse, who eventually finds himself in Bhutan to see if he is in fact the reincarnation, and Siddhartha, who sits and meditates a lot.
I don't mean to be flippant about Buddha, or the religion that sprung from Siddhartha's teachings, but when the film itself careens so wildly from epic to silly domestic soap opera, it is hard to take the proceedings seriously. Miscasting abounds. Reeves certainly looks exotic, sporting more eyeliner than a glam rocker, but when he asks "what is...suffering?," I had to stifle a giggle. Same with Isaak, whose music is more emotional than his acting. His frustration at schlepping his kid to a Buddhist center and his big scene where he learns a boss/coworker has died, play the exact same. He had one constipated emotion, but works that single facial expression with everything he's got. Fonda is barely here. She disappears half way through the picture, and I wondered if something happened during production that explained the actress' absence from the screen.
When the film does work, it is as magical as "The Last Emperor." Ying is wonderful as the humble monk looking for his spiritual guide. Every time he is onscreen, his scenes click and interest is raised. Vittorio Storaro's cinematography is clunky and obvious- Siddhartha's scenes are warm and wonderful, the Seattle scenes are so cold and clinical, I expected to see the actors' breath in interior shots. Ryuichi Sakamoto tries to copy his "The Last Emperor" score, with sporadic success. The film is an education, and I learned a lot about Buddhism. The structure should have been an epic telling, but both story lines achieve mediocrity, and at the film's end, I wondered "well, what now?" This wasn't an open, ambiguous ending, but an ending not worthy of the emotional investment I put into the characters- both modern day and ancient.
"Little Buddha" takes the middle road, and so does my review.
Bernardo Bertolucci returned to the same fertile ground that garnered his outstanding "The Last Emperor" Academy Award gold, and comes up with a half-hearted attempt to tell the story of Siddhartha.
In Bhutan, Lama Norbu (Ruocheng Ying, the only cast member who should have been awarded an Oscar nod) receives good news. Thanks to a vivid dream from another Buddhist monk, Norbu is convinced that his deceased teacher may have been reborn in Seattle, Washington. He flies to the United States, meets with some American monks, and they set upon the brand new house owned by Dean and Lisa (Chris Isaak and Bridget Fonda), and the object of their inquiry- Jesse (a pretty good Alex Wiesendanger). The monks are very nice, and win over Lisa right away. Dean is having problems at work, and isn't warming up to the idea that his blonde six year old is the reincarnation of some Buddhist monk. Norbu leaves a children's book for Jesse, and we are introduced to the parallel story of the film. The book tells the over-two-thousand-year-old story of Prince Siddhartha (Keanu Reeves), a pampered young man who is hidden from the negativity of the world by his father, until he finally ventures beyond the city gates one day and discovers that the world does not exist merely to make him happy. He takes it upon himself to end suffering, and in the process becomes "enlightened," a Buddha. Bertolucci cuts back and forth between the story of Jesse, who eventually finds himself in Bhutan to see if he is in fact the reincarnation, and Siddhartha, who sits and meditates a lot.
I don't mean to be flippant about Buddha, or the religion that sprung from Siddhartha's teachings, but when the film itself careens so wildly from epic to silly domestic soap opera, it is hard to take the proceedings seriously. Miscasting abounds. Reeves certainly looks exotic, sporting more eyeliner than a glam rocker, but when he asks "what is...suffering?," I had to stifle a giggle. Same with Isaak, whose music is more emotional than his acting. His frustration at schlepping his kid to a Buddhist center and his big scene where he learns a boss/coworker has died, play the exact same. He had one constipated emotion, but works that single facial expression with everything he's got. Fonda is barely here. She disappears half way through the picture, and I wondered if something happened during production that explained the actress' absence from the screen.
When the film does work, it is as magical as "The Last Emperor." Ying is wonderful as the humble monk looking for his spiritual guide. Every time he is onscreen, his scenes click and interest is raised. Vittorio Storaro's cinematography is clunky and obvious- Siddhartha's scenes are warm and wonderful, the Seattle scenes are so cold and clinical, I expected to see the actors' breath in interior shots. Ryuichi Sakamoto tries to copy his "The Last Emperor" score, with sporadic success. The film is an education, and I learned a lot about Buddhism. The structure should have been an epic telling, but both story lines achieve mediocrity, and at the film's end, I wondered "well, what now?" This wasn't an open, ambiguous ending, but an ending not worthy of the emotional investment I put into the characters- both modern day and ancient.
"Little Buddha" takes the middle road, and so does my review.
Saturday, August 9, 2025
Hoi Polloi (1935)
*Get The Three Stooges Nutty but Nice Collection on Amazon here*
The Three Stooges go the "Pygmalion" route in this funny short film.
Two professors (Robert Graves, Henry Holman) make a $10,000 wager that one of the men can turn three uncouth men off the street into gentlemen. They find three garbage men (our Three Stooges- Moe Howard, Larry Fine, Curly Howard) who would be perfect candidates. The Stooges stay with the professor for months, taking etiquette and dance lessons, until their big society debut at a classy party. This is the highlight, with Curly dealing with a couple of hilariously awful dance partners.
All the old bits are here, but remember they were new bits back then. A still-funny sequence has the dance instructor (Geneva Mitchell) telling the three to do everything she does, just before a bee flies down the back of her dress. The slap and punching choreography is top-notch, and the other cast members get into the act by the end of the film. Lord does well with his direction, matching the performers.
"Hoi Polloi" is good, funny, surreal physical comedy from the kings of slapstick. They were at the top of their game.
The Three Stooges go the "Pygmalion" route in this funny short film.
Two professors (Robert Graves, Henry Holman) make a $10,000 wager that one of the men can turn three uncouth men off the street into gentlemen. They find three garbage men (our Three Stooges- Moe Howard, Larry Fine, Curly Howard) who would be perfect candidates. The Stooges stay with the professor for months, taking etiquette and dance lessons, until their big society debut at a classy party. This is the highlight, with Curly dealing with a couple of hilariously awful dance partners.
All the old bits are here, but remember they were new bits back then. A still-funny sequence has the dance instructor (Geneva Mitchell) telling the three to do everything she does, just before a bee flies down the back of her dress. The slap and punching choreography is top-notch, and the other cast members get into the act by the end of the film. Lord does well with his direction, matching the performers.
"Hoi Polloi" is good, funny, surreal physical comedy from the kings of slapstick. They were at the top of their game.
King Solomon's Mines (1950)
*Get "King Solomon's Mines" on Amazon here*
It's faint praise when the nicest thing you can say about a film is that it is ten times better than one of its remakes.
Allan Quatermain (a sunburned Stewart Granger) is a safari guide in equatorial Africa, schlepping rich white guys around to shoot at giant animals who don't pose much threat. He is approached by the proper Elizabeth (an unusually annoying Deborah Kerr) and her brother John (Richard Carlson). For more money than Allan has ever made, Elizabeth wants him to lead them into dangerous unexplored territory to look for her missing husband. Hubby wandered off years ago in search of some rumored diamond mines (the film's title), and hasn't been heard from since. Elizabeth insists on coming along, and Allan reluctantly agrees.
The vast majority of the film involve the trio's exposure to the wilds of Africa, its animal life, and native tribes. It quickly bogs down when the mystery of what happened to Elizabeth's husband is forgotten as Allan protects Elizabeth time and time again from every creature the film makers could lay their hands on. Her over-the-top, screeching-woman-in-peril helplessness is a surprise, since her character is not in H. Rider Haggard's source novel, and she is the product of the imagination of a female screenwriter. The film was an odd nomination for the 1950 Best Picture Oscar, probably benefiting from the "All About Eve"/"Sunset Boulevard" split. It did win an Academy Award for Robert Surtees' cinematography, the opening credits sequence alone probably clinched the nomination, as well as film editing. There is no musical score here, with the exception of the music that the native tribes sometimes dance to. While the travelogue aspect of the film might have been fascinating when it was released, now it seems quaint and a little dull. There is some animal violence here, too. I'm not sure how much of it is real, but the ASPCA might have had something to say about many sequences. The film is credited to two directors, one apparently left the production midway through, but there is no noticeable change in the shooting style. Being on location, with hundreds of extras and wild animals, there really is no style onscreen at all. The camera set-ups are standard, as if they hurried to get a shot before anything could go wrong. The cast is good, but it's hard to steal scenes from an entire continent. I didn't care much about Allan and Elizabeth's blooming love (they don't get along in the beginning, so their mutual passion for each other was just a matter of time), and poor Richard Carlson is relegated to "the other white guy" role, mimicking the more manly Granger.
Haggard's novel has been filmed many times over the years, most infamously in 1985. That film starred Richard Chamberlain and Sharon Stone, ripped off the Indiana Jones films, and is absolutely horrid. This version of "King Solomon's Mines" is a messy improvement on that film, but not a "flawless classic" by a long shot.
It's faint praise when the nicest thing you can say about a film is that it is ten times better than one of its remakes.
Allan Quatermain (a sunburned Stewart Granger) is a safari guide in equatorial Africa, schlepping rich white guys around to shoot at giant animals who don't pose much threat. He is approached by the proper Elizabeth (an unusually annoying Deborah Kerr) and her brother John (Richard Carlson). For more money than Allan has ever made, Elizabeth wants him to lead them into dangerous unexplored territory to look for her missing husband. Hubby wandered off years ago in search of some rumored diamond mines (the film's title), and hasn't been heard from since. Elizabeth insists on coming along, and Allan reluctantly agrees.
The vast majority of the film involve the trio's exposure to the wilds of Africa, its animal life, and native tribes. It quickly bogs down when the mystery of what happened to Elizabeth's husband is forgotten as Allan protects Elizabeth time and time again from every creature the film makers could lay their hands on. Her over-the-top, screeching-woman-in-peril helplessness is a surprise, since her character is not in H. Rider Haggard's source novel, and she is the product of the imagination of a female screenwriter. The film was an odd nomination for the 1950 Best Picture Oscar, probably benefiting from the "All About Eve"/"Sunset Boulevard" split. It did win an Academy Award for Robert Surtees' cinematography, the opening credits sequence alone probably clinched the nomination, as well as film editing. There is no musical score here, with the exception of the music that the native tribes sometimes dance to. While the travelogue aspect of the film might have been fascinating when it was released, now it seems quaint and a little dull. There is some animal violence here, too. I'm not sure how much of it is real, but the ASPCA might have had something to say about many sequences. The film is credited to two directors, one apparently left the production midway through, but there is no noticeable change in the shooting style. Being on location, with hundreds of extras and wild animals, there really is no style onscreen at all. The camera set-ups are standard, as if they hurried to get a shot before anything could go wrong. The cast is good, but it's hard to steal scenes from an entire continent. I didn't care much about Allan and Elizabeth's blooming love (they don't get along in the beginning, so their mutual passion for each other was just a matter of time), and poor Richard Carlson is relegated to "the other white guy" role, mimicking the more manly Granger.
Haggard's novel has been filmed many times over the years, most infamously in 1985. That film starred Richard Chamberlain and Sharon Stone, ripped off the Indiana Jones films, and is absolutely horrid. This version of "King Solomon's Mines" is a messy improvement on that film, but not a "flawless classic" by a long shot.
The Men (1950)
*Get "The Men" on Amazon here*
Marlon Brando's film debut is a short, intense drama.
Ken (Marlon Brando) was shot and injured during World War II, and finds himself in a veterans' hospital with other men suffering from "paraplegia," or paralysis. He is angry, depressed, and in a room on his own when his tough doctor Brock (Everett Sloane) puts him in an open ward with others who suffer from the same condition. There he meets gambler Leo (Richard Erdman), reserved Norm (Jack Webb), and inspiring bodybuilder Angel (Arthur Jurado). Ken's fiancee Ellen (Teresa Wright) has been keeping track of Ken without seeing him, obeying his wishes. She decides to hold him to their engagement, re-enters his life, and Ken and his group of friends try to deal with life outside their hospital comfort zone, battling prejudice and gawking.
This film came out in 1950, the decade that saw Brando's triumphs- "A Streetcar Named Desire" and "On the Waterfront," and he is so good here, too. Erdman provides enough levity to keep this from being a brooding melodrama. Webb is unrecognizable as Norm, but the three actors work well together. This was Arthur Jurado's only film, and that is a shame. He was disabled in real life, and died before the age of 40. Onscreen, he is handsome, and has a natural screen talent that comes along once in a long while, the fate of his character is heartbreaking. Sloane should have received an Oscar nod for Supporting Actor- he is phenomenal, and matches Brando line for line. Wright does some nice work as Ellen, overconfident in her ability to live the rest of her life with a wheelchair-bound man. The film uses actual patients from the hospital in the background and in small roles, which adds to the realism of the story. Ironically, DeForest Kelley is also on hand playing a doctor! Screenwriter Carl Foreman smartly opens the film with a question-and-answer session with family members of the patients, and tries to bring up the issues of surrounding spinal cord injuries without offending the filmgoers' sensibilities. It was more difficult to talk about sexual, and bowel, issues back in the day and Foreman does push the envelope with his Oscar nominated story- the rage and frustration is on full display. Zinnemann's direction is outstanding and unobtrusive. He doesn't beat the viewer over the head, letting us see little moments that tell us a lot about the characters.
One huge drawback to the film is Dimitri Tiomkin's screeching musical score. There are some scenes that had me wondering why there was music playing at all, and I kept hitting mute thinking it was coming from another television in my apartment building. He tries to amp the emotion up, but the actors don't need any of his help.
"The Men" came out years before "Coming Home" and "Born on the Fourth of July," but can compete with those films for showing what wartime injuries, both physical and psychological, can do to returning soldiers and their support network. A nice debut from one of our greatest actors. Re-released in 1957 as "Battle Stripe."
Marlon Brando's film debut is a short, intense drama.
Ken (Marlon Brando) was shot and injured during World War II, and finds himself in a veterans' hospital with other men suffering from "paraplegia," or paralysis. He is angry, depressed, and in a room on his own when his tough doctor Brock (Everett Sloane) puts him in an open ward with others who suffer from the same condition. There he meets gambler Leo (Richard Erdman), reserved Norm (Jack Webb), and inspiring bodybuilder Angel (Arthur Jurado). Ken's fiancee Ellen (Teresa Wright) has been keeping track of Ken without seeing him, obeying his wishes. She decides to hold him to their engagement, re-enters his life, and Ken and his group of friends try to deal with life outside their hospital comfort zone, battling prejudice and gawking.
This film came out in 1950, the decade that saw Brando's triumphs- "A Streetcar Named Desire" and "On the Waterfront," and he is so good here, too. Erdman provides enough levity to keep this from being a brooding melodrama. Webb is unrecognizable as Norm, but the three actors work well together. This was Arthur Jurado's only film, and that is a shame. He was disabled in real life, and died before the age of 40. Onscreen, he is handsome, and has a natural screen talent that comes along once in a long while, the fate of his character is heartbreaking. Sloane should have received an Oscar nod for Supporting Actor- he is phenomenal, and matches Brando line for line. Wright does some nice work as Ellen, overconfident in her ability to live the rest of her life with a wheelchair-bound man. The film uses actual patients from the hospital in the background and in small roles, which adds to the realism of the story. Ironically, DeForest Kelley is also on hand playing a doctor! Screenwriter Carl Foreman smartly opens the film with a question-and-answer session with family members of the patients, and tries to bring up the issues of surrounding spinal cord injuries without offending the filmgoers' sensibilities. It was more difficult to talk about sexual, and bowel, issues back in the day and Foreman does push the envelope with his Oscar nominated story- the rage and frustration is on full display. Zinnemann's direction is outstanding and unobtrusive. He doesn't beat the viewer over the head, letting us see little moments that tell us a lot about the characters.
One huge drawback to the film is Dimitri Tiomkin's screeching musical score. There are some scenes that had me wondering why there was music playing at all, and I kept hitting mute thinking it was coming from another television in my apartment building. He tries to amp the emotion up, but the actors don't need any of his help.
"The Men" came out years before "Coming Home" and "Born on the Fourth of July," but can compete with those films for showing what wartime injuries, both physical and psychological, can do to returning soldiers and their support network. A nice debut from one of our greatest actors. Re-released in 1957 as "Battle Stripe."
Meltdown: Days of Destruction (2006)
*Get "Meltdown: Days of Destruction" on Amazon here*
An asteroid bounces off the Earth's atmosphere and moves the planet closer to the sun in this stupid made-for-television sci-fi flick.
Nathan (Vincent Gale) is a scientist. You know he is a scientist because he says a lot of science things while staring at a computer screen, runs programs, tries to warn higher-ups, and mutters "oh my god" a lot. He and some other scientists sent a nuclear warhead into space and blew up a cheesy, computer-animated asteroid, sending one big chunk of it toward Earth. It kind of misses, but tempers and temperatures rise as the progressively sweaty scientists can do nothing about the sudden spike in heat around the world. Police officer Tom (Casper Van Dien) happens to be dating Nathan's hot (so to speak) TV reporter sister Carly (Stefanie von Pfetten), and the trio watch as society descends into chaos because of the heat. The humidity also frizzes the hair of Tom's bratty teenage daughter Kimberly (Amanda Crew), his old flame (sorry) nurse Bonnie (Venus Terzo), and Kimberly's juvenile delinquent boyfriend C.J. (Ryan McDonell). The group decides to head toward an airport where Nathan is sure they can catch a plane out of the sweltering country, headed for the North Pole. The viewer is then treated to stock footage, badly choreographed action sequences- (did the heat affect everyone's ability to hit anything with machine guns?), awful special effects, and characters' attempts at being likable.
Other reviews of this film paint it as a brain-dead good time, but I cannot excuse it like that. It is simply terrible. There is not one cast member you will root for. The script tries to play up the soap operatics of the characters, but I could not care less about whether Tom will choose Carly or Bonnie, or if anyone eventually accepts C.J. as a good but misunderstood guy. Nathan's slow descent into madness is hilarious without meaning to be. I'm no scientist, but "2012" was more plausible than this thing. Not only is the science suspect, but other logical errors abound. I challenge you to go more than two scenes suffering through Kimberly's pouting before you will want to spill some gasoline on her and light a match. Poor Casper Van Dien was a pretty hot property (again, sorry) for a while, but now has to do dreck like this.
"Meltdown: Days of Destruction" left me stone cold.
An asteroid bounces off the Earth's atmosphere and moves the planet closer to the sun in this stupid made-for-television sci-fi flick.
Nathan (Vincent Gale) is a scientist. You know he is a scientist because he says a lot of science things while staring at a computer screen, runs programs, tries to warn higher-ups, and mutters "oh my god" a lot. He and some other scientists sent a nuclear warhead into space and blew up a cheesy, computer-animated asteroid, sending one big chunk of it toward Earth. It kind of misses, but tempers and temperatures rise as the progressively sweaty scientists can do nothing about the sudden spike in heat around the world. Police officer Tom (Casper Van Dien) happens to be dating Nathan's hot (so to speak) TV reporter sister Carly (Stefanie von Pfetten), and the trio watch as society descends into chaos because of the heat. The humidity also frizzes the hair of Tom's bratty teenage daughter Kimberly (Amanda Crew), his old flame (sorry) nurse Bonnie (Venus Terzo), and Kimberly's juvenile delinquent boyfriend C.J. (Ryan McDonell). The group decides to head toward an airport where Nathan is sure they can catch a plane out of the sweltering country, headed for the North Pole. The viewer is then treated to stock footage, badly choreographed action sequences- (did the heat affect everyone's ability to hit anything with machine guns?), awful special effects, and characters' attempts at being likable.
Other reviews of this film paint it as a brain-dead good time, but I cannot excuse it like that. It is simply terrible. There is not one cast member you will root for. The script tries to play up the soap operatics of the characters, but I could not care less about whether Tom will choose Carly or Bonnie, or if anyone eventually accepts C.J. as a good but misunderstood guy. Nathan's slow descent into madness is hilarious without meaning to be. I'm no scientist, but "2012" was more plausible than this thing. Not only is the science suspect, but other logical errors abound. I challenge you to go more than two scenes suffering through Kimberly's pouting before you will want to spill some gasoline on her and light a match. Poor Casper Van Dien was a pretty hot property (again, sorry) for a while, but now has to do dreck like this.
"Meltdown: Days of Destruction" left me stone cold.
Maid in Sweden (1971)
*Get "Maid in Sweden" on Amazon here*
Sixteen year old Inga (Christina Lindberg) is a buxom student who travels to Stockholm to visit big sister Greta (Monica Ekman). Inga is repressed back home thanks to her darn parents never letting her have any fun. Inga meets Greta's live-in boyfriend Casten (Krister Ekman) and Greta swears Inga to secrecy about their relationship. Inga has some odd dreams, memories, nightmares, and fantasies- the film makers rarely differentiate between the four- her every thought seems to involve sex, as she is continually gawked at by strangers. Inga is set up with Bjorn (Leif Naeslund), an unsuccessful sculptor (his work is hideous), and he proceeds to make a good impression by assaulting Inga until she gives in to his pasty, loving ways. Greta finally tries to be a good big sister, worrying about Inga.
Swedish dudes get away with so much! The film is awful, and its treatment of women borders on dangerous, if not at least misogynistic. There are three different assault scenes involving Inga, two of them ending with her giving in to the attacker. She rejects a lesbian, but likes getting roughed up by men? The film was co-financed by some Americans, so everyone speaks in halting English. The direction is average, you don't need to do a lot with your character motivation and camera work when Lindberg disrobes. The acting is terrible, and the script is mean. The most interesting aspects of the film, aside from Lindberg, is a psychedelic Beatles poster hanging in Greta's apartment, and a pop song score that hilariously describes what is happening to Inga.
"Maid in Sweden" was made for the sleazy grindhouse raincoat crowd, and does little to go beyond entertaining them.
Sixteen year old Inga (Christina Lindberg) is a buxom student who travels to Stockholm to visit big sister Greta (Monica Ekman). Inga is repressed back home thanks to her darn parents never letting her have any fun. Inga meets Greta's live-in boyfriend Casten (Krister Ekman) and Greta swears Inga to secrecy about their relationship. Inga has some odd dreams, memories, nightmares, and fantasies- the film makers rarely differentiate between the four- her every thought seems to involve sex, as she is continually gawked at by strangers. Inga is set up with Bjorn (Leif Naeslund), an unsuccessful sculptor (his work is hideous), and he proceeds to make a good impression by assaulting Inga until she gives in to his pasty, loving ways. Greta finally tries to be a good big sister, worrying about Inga.
Swedish dudes get away with so much! The film is awful, and its treatment of women borders on dangerous, if not at least misogynistic. There are three different assault scenes involving Inga, two of them ending with her giving in to the attacker. She rejects a lesbian, but likes getting roughed up by men? The film was co-financed by some Americans, so everyone speaks in halting English. The direction is average, you don't need to do a lot with your character motivation and camera work when Lindberg disrobes. The acting is terrible, and the script is mean. The most interesting aspects of the film, aside from Lindberg, is a psychedelic Beatles poster hanging in Greta's apartment, and a pop song score that hilariously describes what is happening to Inga.
"Maid in Sweden" was made for the sleazy grindhouse raincoat crowd, and does little to go beyond entertaining them.
My Fellow Americans (1996)
*Get "My Fellow Americans" on Amazon here*
A "wow" cast cannot save this extended sitcom.
Former U.S. Presidents Russell Kramer (Jack Lemmon) and Matt Douglas (James Garner) are wiling away their retirement. Kramer beat Douglas in a close race, Douglas defeated Kramer four years later, and then Kramer's vice-president Haney (Dan Aykroyd) came back and defeated Douglas. Douglas, the Democrat, and Kramer, the Republican, hate each other, tossing insults when lumped together at funerals. Both men are flawed. Kramer is a cheapskate, selling out for a dollar, while Douglas is going through a divorce thanks to his womanizing. President Haney is coasting in the White House with his idiot vice-president (John Heard) when scandal reels its predictable head. A plan is concocted to blame the scandal on Kramer, and Douglas finds himself sucked into the situation as well. The two men go on the run from a hit squad composed of a shadowy NSA agent (Everett McGill- too serious in such a lightweight comedy), and must deal with the real people they once led.
Lemmon and Garner have a great chemistry, Garner subbing in a role originally meant for Walter Matthau, and a quick glance at the performers is pretty impressive. However, the film's screenplay is too light, and barely any of it rings true. Sure, it's fun to see Bradley Whitford in a White House-set story before "The West Wing," and wonder why Marg Helgenberger is uncredited, but by the time the end credits roll, you have a barely funny flick that wastes this set of actors. Peter Segal's direction is certainly...there, although the funniest scene should NOT be a badly-shot special effects sequence involving our leading men on horses. Douglas is a ladies' man, but this character trait is Clintonesque- charming and rascally (no private flights to any shamed millionaire's Caribbean island for him). The screenplay is oddly misogynistic- Lauren Bacall's role as Kramer's wife is slashed, Sela Ward's character is like something out of "All the President's Men" before she vanishes, and Helgenberger's character sexes up Douglas before she disappears, too. The film's focus is obviously on Douglas and Kramer, but not even a scene of former First Lady Kramer showing concern for her missing husband? There are some funny lines, Garner and Lemmon seem to have fun, but the story is bland. I think I laughed out loud once, and mostly had a semi-grin on my face. Other than that, watching this cast of pros muddle through this level of comedy is depressing.
"My Fellow Americans" has about as many laughs as "Olympus Has Fallen." For a charming comedy centered around D.C., check out "Dave."
A "wow" cast cannot save this extended sitcom.
Former U.S. Presidents Russell Kramer (Jack Lemmon) and Matt Douglas (James Garner) are wiling away their retirement. Kramer beat Douglas in a close race, Douglas defeated Kramer four years later, and then Kramer's vice-president Haney (Dan Aykroyd) came back and defeated Douglas. Douglas, the Democrat, and Kramer, the Republican, hate each other, tossing insults when lumped together at funerals. Both men are flawed. Kramer is a cheapskate, selling out for a dollar, while Douglas is going through a divorce thanks to his womanizing. President Haney is coasting in the White House with his idiot vice-president (John Heard) when scandal reels its predictable head. A plan is concocted to blame the scandal on Kramer, and Douglas finds himself sucked into the situation as well. The two men go on the run from a hit squad composed of a shadowy NSA agent (Everett McGill- too serious in such a lightweight comedy), and must deal with the real people they once led.
Lemmon and Garner have a great chemistry, Garner subbing in a role originally meant for Walter Matthau, and a quick glance at the performers is pretty impressive. However, the film's screenplay is too light, and barely any of it rings true. Sure, it's fun to see Bradley Whitford in a White House-set story before "The West Wing," and wonder why Marg Helgenberger is uncredited, but by the time the end credits roll, you have a barely funny flick that wastes this set of actors. Peter Segal's direction is certainly...there, although the funniest scene should NOT be a badly-shot special effects sequence involving our leading men on horses. Douglas is a ladies' man, but this character trait is Clintonesque- charming and rascally (no private flights to any shamed millionaire's Caribbean island for him). The screenplay is oddly misogynistic- Lauren Bacall's role as Kramer's wife is slashed, Sela Ward's character is like something out of "All the President's Men" before she vanishes, and Helgenberger's character sexes up Douglas before she disappears, too. The film's focus is obviously on Douglas and Kramer, but not even a scene of former First Lady Kramer showing concern for her missing husband? There are some funny lines, Garner and Lemmon seem to have fun, but the story is bland. I think I laughed out loud once, and mostly had a semi-grin on my face. Other than that, watching this cast of pros muddle through this level of comedy is depressing.
"My Fellow Americans" has about as many laughs as "Olympus Has Fallen." For a charming comedy centered around D.C., check out "Dave."
Friday, August 8, 2025
Mystery of the Maya (1995)
*Get "Mystery of the Maya" on Amazon here*
This short thirty-eight minute Canadian/Mexican production was filmed in IMAX for some unfathomable reason, using a lame set-up about a boy (Nicolas Alonso) and an archaeologist (Blanca Guerra) to give a brief history of the ancient Mayan people of modern-day Mexico, who disappeared in the ninth and tenth centuries- hence the "mystery" of the title.
The film is an international production, and the DVD viewer has a choice of languages, but the dialogue is badly recorded with audio translations coming after the Spanish speaking performers says their lines. The music is also too loud, almost drowning out some of the narration. Most interesting is the "then and now" footage- there were many explorers of the ruins over the years, and the film makers found where early photographs and drawings were taken, and show the change, if any, between then and today. Also interesting is the decoding of the Mayans' numbering system, and their advances in astronomy. This knowledge must be gleaned from glyphs carved in stone, since a Catholic monk burned most of their codices centuries ago. Also of interest is the discovery of a king's tomb underneath a floor and down a hidden stairway. The sweeping helicopter shots of the ruins are breathtaking, and must have been impressive on the ginormous IMAX screen, but the documentary is strictly aimed at junior high school students. Watching the film on a regular flat-screen television gives the picture a washed-out look, and sitting close to the screen to get the IMAX experience only gave me a headache. "Mystery of the Maya" is an average flick.
This short thirty-eight minute Canadian/Mexican production was filmed in IMAX for some unfathomable reason, using a lame set-up about a boy (Nicolas Alonso) and an archaeologist (Blanca Guerra) to give a brief history of the ancient Mayan people of modern-day Mexico, who disappeared in the ninth and tenth centuries- hence the "mystery" of the title.
The film is an international production, and the DVD viewer has a choice of languages, but the dialogue is badly recorded with audio translations coming after the Spanish speaking performers says their lines. The music is also too loud, almost drowning out some of the narration. Most interesting is the "then and now" footage- there were many explorers of the ruins over the years, and the film makers found where early photographs and drawings were taken, and show the change, if any, between then and today. Also interesting is the decoding of the Mayans' numbering system, and their advances in astronomy. This knowledge must be gleaned from glyphs carved in stone, since a Catholic monk burned most of their codices centuries ago. Also of interest is the discovery of a king's tomb underneath a floor and down a hidden stairway. The sweeping helicopter shots of the ruins are breathtaking, and must have been impressive on the ginormous IMAX screen, but the documentary is strictly aimed at junior high school students. Watching the film on a regular flat-screen television gives the picture a washed-out look, and sitting close to the screen to get the IMAX experience only gave me a headache. "Mystery of the Maya" is an average flick.
Montana Sky (2007)
*Get "Montana Sky" on Amazon here*
A cable television network adaptation of a Nora Roberts novel should not be this entertaining.
Old Jack Mercy has gone and kicked the bucket. He has left his ranch to his three daughters- spoiled Hollywood screenwriter Tess (Charlotte Ross), the daughter who stayed on the ranch- Willa (Ashley Williams), and Lily (Laura Mennell), who no one around the ranch has met. Apparently, Jack was kind of a jerk, as his will indicates. In order to inherit the ranch, valued at over twenty million dollars, the three sisters must live there together for one year. If either of them leaves, the land is donated to a nature conservancy.
The three women are strangers, and take a disliking to each other. Willa's life revolves working with the animals, and spurning the advances of neighbor rancher Ben (John Corbett, who is achingly likable here). Lily is on the run from her ex-husband (Scott Heindl), and the shallow Tess cozies up to uncomplicated sheriff Nate (Aaron Pearl). Along with the familial conflict, animals are being killed around the ranch. The killer then graduates to murdering one of the ranchhands, and the viewer has to juggle both the suspense of whether or not Willa and Ben will end up together, and the multitude of red herring suspects in the grisly deaths.
While a very average television film, I found a lot to like about "Montana Sky." The trio of women are all wonderful, and work well together. There is an edge here that I did not expect at all. The opening funeral scene is both catty and darkly funny, and the cast keeps up the snark throughout the film. Veteran director Robe does not become so enraptured with the Alberta, Canada scenery- no Montana location shoot here- that he forgets about his cast and story. Technically, there are some hiccups, especially with some funny dubbing mistakes- listen for some scenes where lines sound like they are being delivered into an empty baked beans can. While I eventually figured out who the killer was, the screenplay had me changing my mind a couple of times beforehand. I did wonder about Jack's change-of-heart concerning his family, and the film never satisfyingly addresses his motives behind his odd will. Why John Corbett is not a huge star is beyond me. He is great in this- and you can see why Willa melts when he is around. I had recently watched a little movie he was in that nobody saw called "Bigger Than the Sky," and his portrayal of a frustrated actor was perfect.
"Montana Sky" could have served as a pilot for a television series about these three different sisters living in Montana, and the show could have worked. It's not great, but not the disaster I smugly thought it was going to be. Also known as "Nora Roberts' Montana Sky."
A cable television network adaptation of a Nora Roberts novel should not be this entertaining.
Old Jack Mercy has gone and kicked the bucket. He has left his ranch to his three daughters- spoiled Hollywood screenwriter Tess (Charlotte Ross), the daughter who stayed on the ranch- Willa (Ashley Williams), and Lily (Laura Mennell), who no one around the ranch has met. Apparently, Jack was kind of a jerk, as his will indicates. In order to inherit the ranch, valued at over twenty million dollars, the three sisters must live there together for one year. If either of them leaves, the land is donated to a nature conservancy.
The three women are strangers, and take a disliking to each other. Willa's life revolves working with the animals, and spurning the advances of neighbor rancher Ben (John Corbett, who is achingly likable here). Lily is on the run from her ex-husband (Scott Heindl), and the shallow Tess cozies up to uncomplicated sheriff Nate (Aaron Pearl). Along with the familial conflict, animals are being killed around the ranch. The killer then graduates to murdering one of the ranchhands, and the viewer has to juggle both the suspense of whether or not Willa and Ben will end up together, and the multitude of red herring suspects in the grisly deaths.
While a very average television film, I found a lot to like about "Montana Sky." The trio of women are all wonderful, and work well together. There is an edge here that I did not expect at all. The opening funeral scene is both catty and darkly funny, and the cast keeps up the snark throughout the film. Veteran director Robe does not become so enraptured with the Alberta, Canada scenery- no Montana location shoot here- that he forgets about his cast and story. Technically, there are some hiccups, especially with some funny dubbing mistakes- listen for some scenes where lines sound like they are being delivered into an empty baked beans can. While I eventually figured out who the killer was, the screenplay had me changing my mind a couple of times beforehand. I did wonder about Jack's change-of-heart concerning his family, and the film never satisfyingly addresses his motives behind his odd will. Why John Corbett is not a huge star is beyond me. He is great in this- and you can see why Willa melts when he is around. I had recently watched a little movie he was in that nobody saw called "Bigger Than the Sky," and his portrayal of a frustrated actor was perfect.
"Montana Sky" could have served as a pilot for a television series about these three different sisters living in Montana, and the show could have worked. It's not great, but not the disaster I smugly thought it was going to be. Also known as "Nora Roberts' Montana Sky."
The Marine (2006)
*Get "The Marine" on Amazon here*
Imagine an action film directed by the guys who made "Airplane!" and "Top Secret!"...yes, I know it was called "Hot Shots!" but go with me on this one.
John Triton (John Cena) is booted out of the Marine Corps for disobeying an order and saving a bunch of hostages while on duty in Iraq. He comes back home to his big house and hot wife Kate (Kelly Carlson, which I misread as Kelly Clarkson) and immediately takes a job as a security guard in an office building. That goes all sorts of wrong, he's fired, and the couple decide to take an extended vacation to get away from it all- apparently one of them has inherited a lot of money because no Marine under the rank of Brigadier General can live like this. Kate gets kidnapped by a gang of jewel thieves headed by the very cool Rome (the very cool Robert Patrick). We see the heist in the beginning of the film in one dizzying, over-directed scene. John survives A LOT of physical punishment as he pursues the gang, who try to negotiate the swamps of South Carolina.
"The Marine" is a big, ugly cartoon. This was Cena's first starring role, and it shows. His physical screen presence is impressive, but then he tries delivering a line of dialogue. The film was tailor-made for his wrestling persona, and made for his fans as well. I've never watched anything WWE has put out aside from some of their films, so I have no reference point about Cena's role in the ring. Director Bonito goes insane with his camera, and not in a good way. One shot of Rome simply getting out of a car and walking into a jewelry store is directed with quick cuts and lots of shots, but he is still just gettin oug of a car and walking into a jewelry store. The film is heavily padded, the ninety-one minute unrated version features endless sequences of John jogging around a swamp, and a seven minute closing credits crawl.
I liked the villains more than our hero. Patrick is always good, and Anthony Ray Parker steals his scenes as the unbalanced Morgan- there is one scene of dialogue in the middle of the swamp about racism that felt like it was from another movie, but still had me laughing. Of course, the biggest laughs come from the action sequences. John takes more blows to the head than a professional football player, yet suffers none of the consequences. This film is infamous for having Triton survive THREE different exploding-building sequences, hair and biceps intact. In one scene, Kate is handcuffed in a runaway truck as it barrels through a burning building, and I immediately thought of the sequence in "Top Secret!" with the runaway vehicle and the Pinto. EVERYTHING in this film blows up- EVERYTHING- the physics of the action sequences are astounding.
So maybe I'm being too hard on this. Maybe it's just a lark, and I should relax- I don't think so. The criminals are so sloppy and cartoonish that I think my fat, bald, middle-aged self could bring them down. I don't take them as seriously as our main hero does, but I don't know if "goofy action comedy" is what the film makers had in mind. There is one scene where Rome takes a call to confirm an expanded cable television package he ordered, and I was tickled by that. Then, cut back to Triton, who should be suffering from brain damage, and the movie bogs down once again.
"The Marine" has prompted a few sequels, without Cena, and I think I'll skip those, too.
Imagine an action film directed by the guys who made "Airplane!" and "Top Secret!"...yes, I know it was called "Hot Shots!" but go with me on this one.
John Triton (John Cena) is booted out of the Marine Corps for disobeying an order and saving a bunch of hostages while on duty in Iraq. He comes back home to his big house and hot wife Kate (Kelly Carlson, which I misread as Kelly Clarkson) and immediately takes a job as a security guard in an office building. That goes all sorts of wrong, he's fired, and the couple decide to take an extended vacation to get away from it all- apparently one of them has inherited a lot of money because no Marine under the rank of Brigadier General can live like this. Kate gets kidnapped by a gang of jewel thieves headed by the very cool Rome (the very cool Robert Patrick). We see the heist in the beginning of the film in one dizzying, over-directed scene. John survives A LOT of physical punishment as he pursues the gang, who try to negotiate the swamps of South Carolina.
"The Marine" is a big, ugly cartoon. This was Cena's first starring role, and it shows. His physical screen presence is impressive, but then he tries delivering a line of dialogue. The film was tailor-made for his wrestling persona, and made for his fans as well. I've never watched anything WWE has put out aside from some of their films, so I have no reference point about Cena's role in the ring. Director Bonito goes insane with his camera, and not in a good way. One shot of Rome simply getting out of a car and walking into a jewelry store is directed with quick cuts and lots of shots, but he is still just gettin oug of a car and walking into a jewelry store. The film is heavily padded, the ninety-one minute unrated version features endless sequences of John jogging around a swamp, and a seven minute closing credits crawl.
I liked the villains more than our hero. Patrick is always good, and Anthony Ray Parker steals his scenes as the unbalanced Morgan- there is one scene of dialogue in the middle of the swamp about racism that felt like it was from another movie, but still had me laughing. Of course, the biggest laughs come from the action sequences. John takes more blows to the head than a professional football player, yet suffers none of the consequences. This film is infamous for having Triton survive THREE different exploding-building sequences, hair and biceps intact. In one scene, Kate is handcuffed in a runaway truck as it barrels through a burning building, and I immediately thought of the sequence in "Top Secret!" with the runaway vehicle and the Pinto. EVERYTHING in this film blows up- EVERYTHING- the physics of the action sequences are astounding.
So maybe I'm being too hard on this. Maybe it's just a lark, and I should relax- I don't think so. The criminals are so sloppy and cartoonish that I think my fat, bald, middle-aged self could bring them down. I don't take them as seriously as our main hero does, but I don't know if "goofy action comedy" is what the film makers had in mind. There is one scene where Rome takes a call to confirm an expanded cable television package he ordered, and I was tickled by that. Then, cut back to Triton, who should be suffering from brain damage, and the movie bogs down once again.
"The Marine" has prompted a few sequels, without Cena, and I think I'll skip those, too.
Mr. Bean's Holiday (2007)
*Get "Mr Bean's Holiday" on Amazon here*
Rowan Atkinson breaks out his best-known character for one final hurrah.
Mr. Bean (Rowan Atkinson) is a British nebbish with a funny voice and mannerisms. He is hard to describe, unless you have seen Atkinson's many television incarnations of the character, and the fun "Bean: The Movie" from a few years before. He gets in harmless trouble, and is actually endearing in a sympathetic way. Bean wins a raffle for a trip to Cannes and the beaches there, and a video camera to record his trip. Of course, the trip is far from ordinary. Through his own cluelessness, he is saddled with a young Russian boy (Maxim Baldry) who is also headed to Cannes to meet up with his father Emil (Karel Roden), a Cannes Film Festival jury member. Bean and the boy team up to earn money and complete the trip, and Bean falls in like-like at the first sight of struggling actress Sabine (Emma de Caunes). Toss in Willem Dafoe as ego-maniacal film director Carson Clay, and this bizarre G-rated adventure plows ahead full steam.
"Mr. Bean's Holiday" is not laugh-out-loud shtick but I found myself smiling through most of it. The character of Bean is so loopy, even when things finally work out for him, you await the next complication- whether it be forgetfulness, or a runaway chicken. Bean does get frustrated at what life deals him, and his rare rants and fits about something that has happened are funny to watch, but then he recovers and moves on to his goal.
Bendelack's direction is assured, and keeps up with Atkinson well. The screenplay moves along very quickly. There are expected set-pieces where Atkinson can work his audience, but they don't drag like they sometimes did on the television series. Bendelack, and screenwriters Hamish McColl and Robin Driscoll, seem to know right when to get out, and on to the next bit of business, and special mention goes to Howard Goodall's simply wonderful musical score. In all honesty, the biggest laugh comes courtesy of Willem Dafoe. The screening of Carson's incredibly boring film, with the audience falling asleep while he is transfixed, is nothing short of brilliant. Having been in the movie review game most of my life, I could associate with the snoozing audience very much.
"Mr. Bean's Holiday" is as good as it's inspiration, "Mr. Hulot's Holiday," another film centered on a character just trying to get away from it all. It is quite an appropriate swan song for Mr. Bean, unless Atkinson changes his mind.
Rowan Atkinson breaks out his best-known character for one final hurrah.
Mr. Bean (Rowan Atkinson) is a British nebbish with a funny voice and mannerisms. He is hard to describe, unless you have seen Atkinson's many television incarnations of the character, and the fun "Bean: The Movie" from a few years before. He gets in harmless trouble, and is actually endearing in a sympathetic way. Bean wins a raffle for a trip to Cannes and the beaches there, and a video camera to record his trip. Of course, the trip is far from ordinary. Through his own cluelessness, he is saddled with a young Russian boy (Maxim Baldry) who is also headed to Cannes to meet up with his father Emil (Karel Roden), a Cannes Film Festival jury member. Bean and the boy team up to earn money and complete the trip, and Bean falls in like-like at the first sight of struggling actress Sabine (Emma de Caunes). Toss in Willem Dafoe as ego-maniacal film director Carson Clay, and this bizarre G-rated adventure plows ahead full steam.
"Mr. Bean's Holiday" is not laugh-out-loud shtick but I found myself smiling through most of it. The character of Bean is so loopy, even when things finally work out for him, you await the next complication- whether it be forgetfulness, or a runaway chicken. Bean does get frustrated at what life deals him, and his rare rants and fits about something that has happened are funny to watch, but then he recovers and moves on to his goal.
Bendelack's direction is assured, and keeps up with Atkinson well. The screenplay moves along very quickly. There are expected set-pieces where Atkinson can work his audience, but they don't drag like they sometimes did on the television series. Bendelack, and screenwriters Hamish McColl and Robin Driscoll, seem to know right when to get out, and on to the next bit of business, and special mention goes to Howard Goodall's simply wonderful musical score. In all honesty, the biggest laugh comes courtesy of Willem Dafoe. The screening of Carson's incredibly boring film, with the audience falling asleep while he is transfixed, is nothing short of brilliant. Having been in the movie review game most of my life, I could associate with the snoozing audience very much.
"Mr. Bean's Holiday" is as good as it's inspiration, "Mr. Hulot's Holiday," another film centered on a character just trying to get away from it all. It is quite an appropriate swan song for Mr. Bean, unless Atkinson changes his mind.
Thursday, August 7, 2025
Murder at 1600 (1997)
*Get "Murder at 1600" on Amazon here*
As political conspiracy films of 1997 go, "Murder at 1600" is no "Absolute Power," but definitely better than "Shadow Conspiracy."
Wesley Snipes is DC detective Harlan Regis, who plays by his own rules...yeah, I know. He and his cracking-wise partner Stengel (Dennis Miller) are called to investigate a dead woman's body found in a bathroom at the White House. The list of suspects is long. Regis is stonewalled right away by evil White House security guy Spikings (Daniel Benzali, who is filmed as if possessed by Satan). The wimpy President Jack Neil's (Ronny Cox) hot-to-trot son Kyle (Tate Donovan) is finally the red herring Regis settles on, until brought new information from Secret Service Agent Nina Chance (Diane Lane). National Security Adviser Jordan (Alan Alda) tries to advise the president through an "international crisis," a US military plane's crew is being held hostage in North Korea, and lead Regis and Chance through the bureaucracy surrounding the murder investigation.
This was filmed back when Snipes was a big-screen action hero, and his performance here is very good. The entire cast, in fact, is good, and Snipes keeps up with them in a performance that could have turned this into a franchise of Harlan Regis conspiracy adventures. Dwight Little's direction is better than the script, his action sequences are nicely edited and effectively shot, including a shoot-out and fistfight in a suburban home that is nothing short of excellent. The biggest problem with the film is the script. First of all, some of the characters' names sound like they were improvised during an afternoon screenwriting seminar- Harlan Regis? Nina Chance? Nick Spikings? An assassin named John Kerry? Regis is given some nice characterization- he's a history buff, and his building is being razed to make room for a parking garage, all stuff that Snipes plays well. However, a good back story cannot make up for leaps in logic and screenwriting conveniences that move the plot along. One such scene has White House security seizing the personal effects of the murdered victim, yet "hiding" them in an evidence room where anyone, like our secret service agent leading lady, can get ahold of it. Also, how fortunate is it that a secret tunnel taking our heroes into the White House is guarded by exactly two padlocks and a motion sensor? I rolled my eyes at the Hollywood trope of bloodthirsty military men pushing for war while the president wants to take his time and negotiate. The final motive for the murder is also unnecessarily complicated, and you may realize that the killing didn't have to occur at the White House. Then again, the title "Murder Kinda Near 1600, Like a Block Over" doesn't have the same ring to it.
Watch for an uncomfortable bit involving the forever underrated Charles Rocket as a suicidal government worker. Rocket did eventually take his own life in reality, and the scene made me squirm. "Murder at 1600" comes up short.
As political conspiracy films of 1997 go, "Murder at 1600" is no "Absolute Power," but definitely better than "Shadow Conspiracy."
Wesley Snipes is DC detective Harlan Regis, who plays by his own rules...yeah, I know. He and his cracking-wise partner Stengel (Dennis Miller) are called to investigate a dead woman's body found in a bathroom at the White House. The list of suspects is long. Regis is stonewalled right away by evil White House security guy Spikings (Daniel Benzali, who is filmed as if possessed by Satan). The wimpy President Jack Neil's (Ronny Cox) hot-to-trot son Kyle (Tate Donovan) is finally the red herring Regis settles on, until brought new information from Secret Service Agent Nina Chance (Diane Lane). National Security Adviser Jordan (Alan Alda) tries to advise the president through an "international crisis," a US military plane's crew is being held hostage in North Korea, and lead Regis and Chance through the bureaucracy surrounding the murder investigation.
This was filmed back when Snipes was a big-screen action hero, and his performance here is very good. The entire cast, in fact, is good, and Snipes keeps up with them in a performance that could have turned this into a franchise of Harlan Regis conspiracy adventures. Dwight Little's direction is better than the script, his action sequences are nicely edited and effectively shot, including a shoot-out and fistfight in a suburban home that is nothing short of excellent. The biggest problem with the film is the script. First of all, some of the characters' names sound like they were improvised during an afternoon screenwriting seminar- Harlan Regis? Nina Chance? Nick Spikings? An assassin named John Kerry? Regis is given some nice characterization- he's a history buff, and his building is being razed to make room for a parking garage, all stuff that Snipes plays well. However, a good back story cannot make up for leaps in logic and screenwriting conveniences that move the plot along. One such scene has White House security seizing the personal effects of the murdered victim, yet "hiding" them in an evidence room where anyone, like our secret service agent leading lady, can get ahold of it. Also, how fortunate is it that a secret tunnel taking our heroes into the White House is guarded by exactly two padlocks and a motion sensor? I rolled my eyes at the Hollywood trope of bloodthirsty military men pushing for war while the president wants to take his time and negotiate. The final motive for the murder is also unnecessarily complicated, and you may realize that the killing didn't have to occur at the White House. Then again, the title "Murder Kinda Near 1600, Like a Block Over" doesn't have the same ring to it.
Watch for an uncomfortable bit involving the forever underrated Charles Rocket as a suicidal government worker. Rocket did eventually take his own life in reality, and the scene made me squirm. "Murder at 1600" comes up short.
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