MY CALL: This filthy alien abduction flick was written and directed by Tom Kincaid, who is no stranger to classlessness. Kincaid is the lobotomized mastermind behind Mutant Hunt, Robot Holocaust, and a whole lot of porn. This movie is so bad that you wish it was intentionally spoofy, but it’s not. It’s a giggling, guilty pleasure for adult horror fans that started out as preteens watching horror flicks to learn about female anatomy. IF YOU LIKE THIS THEN WATCH: Mutant Hunt (1986), Alien Contamination, Deep Space, Galaxy of Terror, Inseminoid, Dreamaniac, Nightwish, Humanoids From the Deep, Slugs, Hardware, Of Unknown Origin, to name a few budgetless pieces of vintage crap at which you should delight in rolling your eyes.
The story quickly sets sail after an old man walking a cute little dog turns into a melty monster, sheds his skin, becomes some fly-headed goon and runs off with a floozy, presumably to rape her since, let’s be honest, that’s just what happens in most 80s horror (e.g., Galaxy of Terror, Inseminoid, Humanoids From the Deep). What is it with Tom Kincaid and melty villains? Melty cyborgs in Mutant Hunt, melty horny aliens in this.
Another cover/poster. Just charming.
For reasons I don’t understand, a young, attractive female doctor and a detective team up to solve a series of brutal virgin rapes. Evidently doctors have carte blanche to skip out on their medical responsibilities when a detective fails to consider asking other cops for help. The doctor is confounded by the victims’ amnesia as if the date rape drug (roofies/rohypnol) wasn’t yet mainstream. Come on, chick, there’s no need to pester Dr. House on this one. A frat guy could have solved this medical mystery.
Um, like yeah, duh, whatever! I totally did medical school.
All of the victems have been virgins—in Manhattan! Has Tom Kincaid been to Manhattan? Not a lot of virgins past baptism-age. I guess this is before Sex in the City made it known that there are simply none left. Our attractive doctor heroine suggests that she, too, is a virgin. Again, before Grey’s Anatomy revealed that doctors, when not in the immediate field of vision of their patients, are having sex like animals nicknamed Dr. McDreamy and Dr. McSteamy.
Our next victem is a meal-skipping, cokehead, ex-gymnast model who, of course, works out naked between swimsuit photoshoots. I don’t know many virgins these days, but I can say that none of them are coked-up model exhibitionists in Manhattan. Her gay photographer, much to his own surprise (huh?), turns into a slimy tentacle-flinging rape monster, steals her innocence and scratches up her face.
Are we really gonna just sit here and not point out what a rip on The Fly this thing is?
LeeAnne Baker (Mutant Hunt, Necropolis) plays a nurse who, for lack of a better explanation, spends an awful lot of time naked for someone who practices abstinence until marriage. Anyway, her boyfriend surprises her by showing up to her apartment for their date early and, guess what happens next? Yup. He turns into a slimy rape monster.
Horror movies and shower scenes… Nope. That’s all. I had nothing else to say.
Truth be told, every woman in this movie seems to be a virgin—even though they all look and/or talk like floozies, spinsters and tramps. If they had just given it up in high school then these monsters wouldn’t be a problem. This film is really Tom Kincaid’s message to the world that a healthy sex life leads to a healthy life. This, of course, was coming from a gay porn director in the 80s who was watching his male leads dropping like flies from AIDS.
Later on, our hospitalized victems—who were admitted with what appeared to be acid burns on their face—have completely healed overnight. But fret not, they turn into naked murderesses. Then, as if responding to some sexually transmitted homing beacon, they wander to the tunnels under the city where our monsters live. How these women make it from the hospital to the sewers totally naked in broad daylight with no witnesses, questions, arrests or whatever is beyond me. What happens next really made me feel guilty for watching this. This roving burlesque bevy gathers in an alien hot tub where they rub each other down with some manner of truly disgusting thick, white slime. I wonder what that is?
Get in. The slutty water is fine.
There is only one fight between the protagonists and any of the monsters, which are quite strong and bulletproof. Luckily the lady doctor found their one weakness: wooden boards! WTF!?! Bullets cannot penetrate their intergalactic skin, but hit it over the head with a two-by-four and it’s twitching on the ground with blood erupting from a massive headwound! Really?
This is what happens when they don’t use virgins…testicle-heads.
The monster transformations appear painful and they are deliciously disgusting. The gore and creature make-up in this is far superior to Mutant Hunt and represent the only thing that Tom Kincaid got right. This is the cheap gore I hope for when I sample random 80s horror fare. Such a shame that it’s limited to just a few scenes.
People forget how awful life was before they manufactured Lipitor.
The acting is really something special. Everyone in this movie is trying to prevent an ongoing series of rapes, the worst of all heinous acts next to murder. I’ve seen a few episodes of SVU and, well, people tend to get emotional about this stuff. All the while, there is never an ounce of passion from our stoic actors. I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised, though. After all, this is a film in which basically the entire female cast disrobes to full frontal nudity. You won’t find Shakespeare by holding your casting calls in strip clubs. They stare, emotionless, as they watch monsters dying, possessed naked chicks bathing in reproductive filth, and hear explanations about these aliens’ rapey motives. Emotionless! Like they were just waiting in line at the bank.
In summary, if ever there was a single way that this movie failed, it would be credibility. Some randy aliens looking for some action land on Earth and try to impregnate our women—okay, I buy it, I suppose that could happen. But they manage find six attractive adult virgin women in Manhattan—no fucking chance!
What they Hell am I even looking at!?! WTF is that!?! Why would you make that the DVD cover!?!
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Safety Not Guaranteed
Warm characters, several questions and an audience that stayed until the end of the credits. Safety Not Guaranteed is a gem of a movie that intertwines time travel and comedy. What I love is that the time travel and characters are given the respect they deserve. The characters are three-dimensional wonders and Mark Duplass is turning into an indie leviathan.
What makes Safety Not Guaranteed work is the wonderful script that creates likable characters. Leading the charge is Aubrey Plaza. Plaza (Parks & Recreation) is equal parts gawky, pretty, intelligent and weird. She is able to be goofy and confident at the same time. Her intro to Duplass is a highlight of the film.
Jake Johnson (New Girl, 21 Jump Street) is making a wonderful niche for himself as the fast talking jerky guy who has a heart of gold. His character takes an interesting journey that feels slightly unnecessary yet completely uncliched.
The story centers around a man who posts an ad (see above) requesting a partner to join him in time travel. The request is earnest and truthful. Jake Johnson’s writer decides to find him so he takes two interns played by Aubrey Plaze and Karan Soni to assist in the story. Jake strikes out at his attempt to get in with the potential time traveler so he enlists Plaza to get the story. What follows is the blossoming relationship between Plaza and Duplass. The two form a bond due to their “weird mojos bonding.”
Plaza’s introduction to Duplass is a wonder of cool dialogue and confident acting. The two bond quickly and move forward with their plan to go back in time. Duplass is able to portray a man who is who is incredibly capable or crazy. His performance walks the line perfectly. You like him yet stay skeptical.
I love that this is not a movie about time travel. It is more interested in the characters. I also like how Duplass character is actually being followed. What makes it better is that the government agents are skeptical because the suspect lives in a house in the woods.
I won’t say whether or not the time travel happens. If they do it is secondary to the plot because character development is what matters. Safety Not Guaranteed is a movie about interesting people who have to take their own journeys involving time travel, love and loss.
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Mirror Mirror
Mirror Mirror is a cheeeky film that employs zany humor and a hasty yet unique look to provide a breezy 90 minutes. The movie is perfect when you’ve worked a 60 hour week and it is 106 degrees outside. My girlfriend and I watched this as a way to unwind and not be challenged.
Here is an example of the cheeky dialogue:
Brighton: Snow White is dead. One of God’s great mysteries is his plan for each and every one of us…
Queen: Speed it up.
Brighton: Snow White lived, she died, God rest her soul, Amen. There will be a buffet lunch served at two.
Here is another random moment.
Snow White: I’m leaving the castle.
Guard #1: Is she allowed to leave the castle?
Guard #2: I don’t know.
Guard #1: I won’t tell if you don’t.
Guard #2: Pinky swear?
Lily Collins is a cute little bugger who handles the role well. Like Kristen Stewart in Snow White and the Huntsman she isn’t given much to do. She smiles, looks confused and has insane eyebrows.
The movie was directed Tarsem Singh who is known for his visuals and head-scratching dialogue (Immortals). He is a hands on director who creates beautiful films that nobody watches (The Fall, The Cell). I wish he would have been given several more months to develop a look that makes Snow White distinctive. you can see touches of his famous vision but they don’t gell like his prior films. Instead of creating a new spin he adds another chapter to the Snow White saga.
This chapter involves Julia Roberts acting saucy, Lily Collins facial expressions and Armie Hammer having fun. Together they go through all the Snow White clichés and ends with Sean Bean in a loud yellow outfit.
The best thing Tarsem does with the film is developing the seven dwarves. I loved the seven dwarves. The men have personalities that shine amidst the visuals. You can single out nice moments for each actor and you cheer for them. I love that Mirror Mirror didn’t cast seven British actors then shrink them via CGI like Hunstman did. They are a delight to see on-screen and you will recognize a lot of them from prior work.
The film is light fluff. Never challenging, sometimes engaging and often catches you off guard with a cheeky little joke.
Watch Mirror Mirror. Forget that you watched Mirror Mirror….Then a few hours later remember that you kinda liked Mirror Mirror.
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Bad Movie Tuesday: Seeking Justice
Seeking Justice starts with an interesting question. How far would a man go to get the person who hurt his wife? Would he allow somebody to kill the person if he had to break the law in the future? Seeking Justice could have been an interesting potboiler about a young man who protects his wife but can’t stomach the repercussions. His hesitation puts him on the wrong end of a dangerous group of people who are everywhere and nowhere.
However, the producers cast Nic Cage as an incredibly bored husband who protects a bored January Jones while an excellent Guy Pearce hunts them down. The plot gets so convoluted that you give up trying to follow and learn to appreciate the boredom. The only saving grace is when Nic Cage has to do a stunt because you get to see a stunt double with a bad wig.
I’ve started a bad Nic Cage movie tradition. The bored acting pic while doing something intense. This trademark boredom can be seen in Next, Season of the Witch and Frozen Ground. It continues in Seeking Justice.
Bored jogging
Bored Mardi Gras
straddling a guy while bored
Bored while getting framed for murder
The movie has so many plot twists that you lose track of what is going on? I have no clue about what happened during the last half of the film. Something about dirty cops, journalists and January Jones playing a cello.
The biggest problem I have with the film is that Guy Pearce is given nothing to do. Guy Pearce can act his face off. He was awesome in Lockout, villainous in The Count of Monte Cristo and old in Prometheus. He could have carried the movie on his shoulders and maybe given Nic Cage an excuse to wake up. Instead, he falls into the background while Nic Cage goes on a quest to clear his name.
Don’t watch Seeking Justice. Nic Cage is bored. The plot is incomprehensible. It is perfect Bad Movie Tuesday material.
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Movies, Films & Flix Roundtable: The Expendables 2
Mark: The biggest relief about this film is that it won’t have a 17 minute monologue by Mickey “loud breather” Rourke. That dude has developed a weird acting thing where he breathes incredibly loud after each sentence. Watch Immortals, Iron Man 2 and Passion Play for proof.
Chuck Finley: it’s called the Ultimate Warrior Method
Mark: Two things bother me about this trailer. 1. JCVD is looking for 70 tons of plutonium. Seems excessive. I miss Eric Robert’s rich evil guy…he just wanted money and not world domination.
2. I’m not stoked about more Arnold and Bruce. this means less of Dolph’s Viking and Jet’s shady money grubber. I hope The Expendables 3 features the two of them on a road trip in the style of Planes, Trains and Automobiles.
John: 70 tons!?!?! I looked online and estimates for Plutonium stores in the world are only 500-1000 tons. He seems to want quite a bit considering that the old Trinity A-bomb only used 6.2kg (~13.64 lbs). Maybe he’s just been watching Battleship and Falling Skies too much and is getting paranoid about our ability to defend ourselves against an alien invasion.
Mark: Maybe plutonium is code for HGH. JCVD is attempting to hoard all the workout supplements. That is a huge problem for the expendables.
Sweet Sugar: Note to self: next time I go zip lining in Costa Rica, bring machine guns
Mark: I wonder how many innocent sloths were killed during that gunfight? People never consider the sloths.
John: Yeah, they never consider how f’ing DEADLY they are! I hope you don’t find yourself in a Central American jungle besieged by sloths. You’ll think “oh, how cute…” and then they’ll mess your day up!!!
Mark: Imagine this scene: The Expendables are pinned down by sloths and Terry Crews comes in with his automatic shotgun and just starts blowing up sloths everywhere.
John: Then a sloth Matrix-leaps from a tree doing one of Neo’s Superman-posed missile-punches and burns a hole through Crews’ chest like a meteor just went through it! Then its still-blind newborn slothlings hobble in like mutants attracted to the scent of blood and feast upon him. Mwahahahaha…MWAHAHAHAHA!!!
Wait, did that get weird? Maybe a little weird? I think I went too far that time.
Mark: That is a wonderful visual. Would they become super sloths due to the HGH? If I ever tried to explain this conversation to a third party it would be very awkward.
John: SGH.
Mark: I guarantee three people in the 2012 olympics will be busted for SGH.
John: Phelps is gonna get caught smoking a clump of sloth hair looking for an edge.
Mark: Aside from the 70 tons of stolen SGH I’m worried about the director Simon West. He is the man responsible for When a Stranger Calls, Mechanic, Tomb Raider and an episode of The Cape. His only good film was the gonzo Con Air. That was 15 years ago. Now, he doesn’t have a mulletted/buff Nic Cage to shoulder the absurd carnage.
Megan: Hey now… I am prepared to defend Tomb Raider and any movie that was pre-emaciated Angelina Jolie.
John: Hmmm…well, if he gave the 140,000 lbs of SGH to 140,000 Chinese gym rats. Then he could have a pec-tastic army of Bolo Youngs! Finally, Van Damme and Bolo Young could put their Double Impact and Bloodsport differences behind them and take over the world as BFF-besties.
John: Hey, where’s Bolo Young in all this? He and Terry Crews could have a pec dance-off.
Mark: what is more impressive and why? JCVD splits or Dolph Lundgren front kicks.
John: JCVD splits back when he was stronger, heavier, and had a heels on the seats of two chairs in his Bloodsport hotel room.
Mark: I chose front kicks for two reasons.
1. Everybody knows a front kick is coming. Everybody knows the direction. However, everybody gets flattened by it.
2. After Bloodsport where he demolished Bolo Young and his nuggets with a blind split JCVDs splits became gratuitous. Tree splits (kickboxer) Naked Splits (Timecop) Split personalities (Double Impact).
Mark: My dream for Expendables 3 is Michael Jai White and Keanu Reeves are the bad guys. Wesley Snipes (Demolition Man reunion) joins the crew as Dolph Lundgren’s step brother.
John: MJW and Keanua could be like Master Blaster, where Keanu sets up a howdah saddle on one of MJW’s pecs. Slightly awkward, though, considering that Keanu is taller. And Ray Parks as a knife-fighter tunnel rat type.
Mark: Do you know what happens to tunnel rats when they get hit by an automatic shotgun?
Same thing that happens to anybody else when they get hit by an automatic shotgun.
Megan: This wold only work for me if it was “Michael Jai White as Black Dynamite” -Where he uses his patented technique of slapping opponents in the face to catch them off guard.
Tony 9.5: This movie is going to kick ass; as it should. Brings back an old school feeling of how action movies should be…ACTUAL stuff being blown up, someone probably getting knocked down in a fight scene…I guess the exact opposite of the latest Star Wars trilogy; green f’n screen… I am looking forward to this one, and I think it’s actually going to be better than the first. Hold your beer and whiskey up boys, it’s going to be good…
Mark: If you played a drinking game where every time an Expendable missed a shot, punch or kick you take a shot….your lips would never touch an ounce of alcohol.
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Magic Mike (2012)
MY CALL: I really get tired of saying this, but the trailer looked so promising and I had high hopes for this flick [CLICK HERE to see the trailer]. So many things went wrong with this movie pitched by former male stripper Channing Tatum. This flick really would benefit from another round of thoughtful post-production, some reshoots and even some rewriting. Just to be clear, not a glowing recommendation. WHAT TO WATCH INSTEAD: Striptease (1996), though from the female perspective, succeeded in all things that Magic Mike tried and failed to execute except for the “rookie taken under the veteran’s wing” component.
Some of the stars at the Entertainment Weekly photo shoot got a little nervous that Manganiello (far right) would wolf out and grind them up into his protein shake. Judging by his size, a relevant concern.
Mike (Channing Tatum) is a likable character. He sports an ever-approachable “aw, shucks” grin that will make ladies skip a heartbeat and a not-so-gooey yen for something more out of life. The story is simple enough. A veteran male stripper takes a sharp, young transient under his wing. Then we (sort of) see what it’s like to be a male stripper: the lifestyle, how enamoring it is to the young and aimless, how impractical it may appear with time to the more mature and experienced. Then there are some romantic and drug-related sideplots.
Are they doing YMCA or Macho Man? I can’t tell.
And what’s going on with the big ugly guy in the back left? It’s a bit awkward.
“You don’t want to know what I’ve gotta’ do for 20s.” That line seemed really funny in the trailer, but somehow totally awkward and not funny in the movie.
Several scenes from the trailer seemed like they had the potential to affect audiences—Mike’s candid attempts at sincerity, not too over-the-top on the job humor, his jest about his “first fight” with Cody Horn. However, this movie was so poorly shot and under-produced that these scenes were much more effective in their abbreviated trailer snippets than in the movie itself. Some would argue that a low budget and simple camerawork shouldn’t detract from good content. But here I beg to differ. With the exception of a few dance routines, camera angles seemed to be chosen with all the convenience and thoughtlessness of setting up a tripod in a stationary position to capture the goings-on of a baby shower. From time to time the top of an actor’s head may stray outside of the frame, which felt amateur. There were many scenes which had no background music. I normally wouldn’t even notice the subtle tune lingering behind actors’ dialogue. That is, unless, it’s not there. It felt like watching a screening of a scene in post-production before they scored the film. As a result, the background noise felt like, well, “noise.” For example, while having a chat on the beach, their feet splashing in the water felt fake and hardly in sync with their movement. My attention shouldn’t be drawn to this. Just amateur—and strange when considering the tactfulness of Soderbergh’s grittier installments like Haywire and Contagion. This movie really felt like they never finished post-production or assessed the need for reshoots.
Unfortunately, as huge as that complaint was, that wasn’t the only problem. Joining Tatum at the bro-spa for butt waxes was Alex Pettyfer (In Time, I Am Number Four) who plays Adam, a rookie to the business who is unwarily recruited by Mike. I was hoping that this would make for some fun “firsts” as he is hazed into the business by some overly handsy patrons or shyness on stage or having his first manscaping appointment waxing his nether regions. All good funny ideas, right? We see none of this. Just an awkwardly hands on lesson about crotch-popping by McConaughey (Dallas) and a forgettable prank by a fellow stripper—neither were done well. Adam’s transition into the business is boringly smooth. The majority of the strip routines were dull, too, even a bit awkward or wooden, except for a few of Tatum’s Step Up tributes.
The other strippers include Matt Bomer (White Collar, In Time), Adam Rodriguez (CSI: Miami) and 53-year old Kevin Nash (Rock of Ages), who appears quite out of place and always seems “lost” during stage routines as if he were at a rehearsal with a hangover. True Blood’s Joe Manganiello (Big Dick Richie) felt sorely under-utilized in terms of dialogue. However, there was one very funny, though brief, scene of him preparing with a penis pump, which he pumps so hard that he gets a little woozy. The “fluffy” comedian Gabriel Iglesias plays the club DJ and drug dealer.
As Dallas, Matthew McConaughey plays mentor, friend and villain (sort of). His villain phase, along with some drug-related issues introduced by the DJ to Adam, made for a sideplot which I found unnecessary and far too serious given the misleadingly light-hearted movie the trailers suggested. As Adam’s sister, Cody Horn does okay—maybe even well. But while she’s supposed to serve as a love interest for Mike, she comes off as a moral compass and delivery vessel forcing Mike to weigh what he wants out of life. I hate to sound shallow, but I didn’t find her to be a remotely credible mate for Channing Tatum—not by a long shot. Diminishing her effectiveness as a love interest was Olivia Munn (HBO’s The Newsroom). In the trailer Munn is just some chick who comments on Mike’s furniture (that he made) whereas in the movie he spends more time pursuing her than Cody Horn. [Oh, and for all the Olivia Munn G4 fans, you see her topless.] In sum, more things that the trailer misadvertized and more things about this movie that didn’t work.
Despite having more shiny abs and waxed chests than a Gilette ad marathon, the cast is impressive and full of guys that guys like to root for.
What did work was the endearing bromance between veteran thong-slinger Mike and 19-year old Adam in the first half of the movie. Very cute. Reminded me of college. Their dynamic slowly broke down as the more dramatic elements of the movie stacked up on their way to an abrupt ending. I also really enjoyed the all scenes depicting Mike’s (et al.) casual and indulgent lifestyle—especially the opening scene with Olivia Munn when neither of them know the name of their threesome’s third from last night and they joke about it while she sleeps. I suppose, of course, that for women and gay men there was another major success to this film: LOTS of bare male butt. Butts in thongs, butts in bare-assed chaps, buts without so much as a G-string, even shadowy silhouettes of butts (and, ummmm, you know—a teensy bit of that, too). I feel that fans affected by such eye candy are responsible for any and all positive reviews of this movie.
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John’s Horror Corner: The Sentinel (1977)
Duuuude! The guy in the background reminds me of the Tall Man from the Phantasm movies.
MY CALL: Discovering a sick piece of cinema previously foreign provokes excitement, doesn’t it? This 70s Hell-flick attempts, and fails, to ride the coattails of The Exorcist. But fret not. The lead actress is nice to watch, a few scenes are quite memorable (though, perhaps, wasted on this movie), and you’ll get more than a few eye-rolling laughs out of, what I hope will become, a newfound classic in your eyes. IF YOU LIKE THIS WATCH: Somehow I haven’t reviewed my share of 70s and 80s Satanic/possession movies. So I have no good suggestions for you yet. Future reviews of such nature, however, will likely point to this flawed, ill-colored diamond. DISCLAIMER: This is one of those reviews that was too fun to write. As such, I gave away a lot of the plot, twists (if any) and ending.
The opening scene of this Exorcist-rip is in Italy. This created a great deal of concern in me. I mean, a lot of great material hails from Italy…it’s just that they’re all Lucio Fulci movies. You see, both The Rite (2011) and The Devil Inside (2012) take place in Italy and they were both atrocities. Thankfully we swiftly cut to New York City—away from CrappyPossessionMovieVille, Italy—and never look back.
Cristina Raines stars as a successful model, Allison Parker, and she is lovely. [I mean, like, how geeks think Olivia Munn is the work of God lovely.]
We learn that Allison has a troubled past. (Cue the flashback) After a traumatic experience involving her father and some overweight hookers she had attempted to kill herself. Back to the present—er, “1977 present”—she really wants to get her own apartment even though things seem fine with her boyfriend (Michael; Chris Sarandon of Fright Night old and new), a lawyer who wants to marry her.
They seem quite happy and he is rather untroubled considering this decision. I suppose her father’s frightful infidelity has left her a bit damaged. Thanks, Mr. Director, for that subtle cue. Much to her boyfriend’s displeasure, she looks into a cheap, furnished, luxurious apartment. The selling agent suspiciously lures her into signing the lease by lowering the price (from $600 to $400/month) and pretending she never said $400 from the start. I delighted in the mere idea that a furnished Brooklyn apartment with a view—even in 1977—could be considered expensive at $600 a month, and that one built on the Gateway to Hell is a steal at $400. In this hostile market, one would pay extra for such a feature. This is one of those moments that makes you go Hmmm. There will be a lot of those moments where you ask yourself how does she not see that this is strange? or how does this fit into everything? The building also is home to a way-creepy blind priest (John Carradine of Buried Alive, The Nesting, The Howling) who stares out the window all the time. Hmmm. We later discover that the Diocese of NY owns the building. Hmmm. And for whatever reason she cannot get phone service in her apartment or even find a phone in her building—you know, to f*cking call help when necessary. Hmmm…totally normal.
Once she moves in, of course, weird things start happening. First, she starts having feinting spells. Now I know what you’re thinking…this MUST be important, right? Nah. But you really put on your sleuthing cap when she starts meeting her neighbors, though. They’re all conspicuously strange. Burgess Meredith (Rocky) plays her very wacky male-cat-lady equivalent neighbor.
Then there are her leotarded lesbian neighbors, one being the semi-mute, over-sexualized Sandra (Beverly D’Angelo of HBO’s Entourage), who awkwardly masturbates in front of her for minutes—MINUTES!!!
Allison gets invited to a cat’s birthday party and meets yet more weird people, but the cat’s the real star here.
Allison starts having trouble sleeping. She starts hearing things from the empty apartment above her at the witching hour (3:30am). She encounters something truly horrifying while investigating these sounds: a cat eating a dead bird! I don’t know if you’ve ever owned a cat. But they eat dead birds from time to time. No biggie. A total failure to be scary on the part of the director; but unintentionally successful at making me laugh!
Anyway, as this manner of feral barbarism is clearly unacceptable, she meets with the selling agent to complain. Here Allison learns that she and the blind priest are the only occupants of the building. Hmmm…WEAK! So far the backstory has been thorough, somewhat interesting, but business is getting done slower than a constipated sloth with a limp. Here is where I began to worry about the rest of this movie. The two of them check the apartments where the cat’s little suaree and the scissor sisters were and they’re just dusty tombs.
Allison starts seeing more things. Her visions correspond to a long dead murderess’ actions and the phantom tenants of her hallucinations are long dead murderers, too. Who does Allison see in her next visions but her dead dad and now-zombified whores. She cuts off his nose and pops his eyeball like a giant zit. Finally, some entertaining culty gore!
Then she starts “seeing Latin” instead of the words in the pages of a book. The Latin she scribes troubles a suspicious priest, who we later find out doesn’t even f*cking exist. Her sleuthing fiancée investigates the blind priest, who retired after a church congregation disbanded and the church was torn down. The priest he questioned seemed quite secretive and worried about it all. Not sure where this is all leading? Well, this won’t help! Then, the cops (Eli Wallach and Christopher Walken) think Michael is involved in some old murder cases loosely linked to Allison’s visions. Huh? Michael keeps investigating and learns that there has been a long series of people attempting suicide, disappearing, and then re-emerging as priests and nuns with all-new aliases, living in that apartment building!!!!
Now, at this point, we have had so many clues, leads and red herrings thrown in our face that this feels no more organized than a monkey shit-fight at the zoo. I’d like to tell you not to worry; that there will be some form of synthesis…but I can’t. Instead I would like to refer you to the three other movie posters for The Sentinel that I chose not to show you at the beginning of the review.
Note the three sentences on the left…
And again…
There, have you read it? You get it? Good. Now you not only know what the plot of the movie is, what the director and writer failed to illustrate through story and character development, and what’s going to happen next. Shall we continue?
[I wonder where the gate is? I wonder, if she is next, who is the sentinel now?]
So now we see that the plot development is somehow both obvious and disjointed. It has all been building up to the campy but massively awesome “opening of the Hellgate” ending, wherein the director hired actual carnival freaks to portray the demons of Hell—which was so f*cking sick and scary when I saw this as an impressionable early-90s-era preteen, and so absolutely not scary here and now in 2012. I mean, they’re all just sort of standing there and not posing any real menace.
In today’s cinema, they’d be ripping Cristina Raines’ skin off. Anyway, this was the only thing the director did right (i.e., hiring them, not architecting the scene) and it made for a kind homage to the classic chiller Freaks (1932). However, instead of an uber-creepy mantra from the demons of Hell like One of us, one of us… we get Michael stupidly declaring “I am one of the them!” as he reveals a massive headwound with all the cadence of a teenager telling a ghost story with a flashlight in their face.
The ending is not entirely lost, though. The final shot of Alison—decrepit, blind, and entombed in a nun’s habit—retains some impact.
SIDERBAR: Some interesting before-they-were-stars casting include Jeff Goldblum (Morning Glory, The Switch) as her photographer, Christopher Walken and Eli Wallach as policemen, Tom Berenger as the next guy to move into the ill-fated Hell’s Gate apartment, and an uncredited Richard Dreyfuss (Piranha 3D).
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Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (2)
John already wrote a wonderful and comprehensive review for this film. He covers the fight choreography, characters and story line. However, he did not cover how absolutely insane this movie is. So, read John’s review for in-depth coverage while I talk about a movie where Abraham spins unnecessarily while twirling an axe.
Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter was movie directed by a crazy Russian who is known for crazier films (Night Watch, Day Watch). He takes his kinetic sensibility and has invented an Axe-Fu romp with no trace of logic, character development or pacing. He also directs his two big action set pieces amidst a horse stampede and flaming bridge. Nothing in Timur Bekmanbetov movies involve gravity. For instance, Bullets bend, people fly and Abe can do triple flips whilst holding an axe.
This is my guess as to what Timur is telling Benjamin.
“We are going to attach you to some wires then spin you till you puke.”
The performances are quite good and the actors handle the fight scenes well. The ending burning bridge battle is a marvel of uncontrolled chaos and superb teamwork between Anthony Mackie and Walker.
The plot moves briskly through Abe’s formative years and eventual pursuit of vampire death and reuniting a nation. Twenty seconds are all he needs to learn how to destroy trees with a single axe swipe. He also knows how to run across the backs of horses while they gallop. A moment that sums up this film is the first kiss between Abe and Mary Todd. Abe is a tall man so she takes off his hat, stands on it and kisses his cheek. After the cheek smooch she stands off of the hat and places it back on his head undamaged.
The make up in this film is wonderful. The subtle changes never feel jarring and you wish Clint Eastwood would have called the artist before he made J. Edgar. Also, You never once doubt in Benjamin Walker’s wonderful axe skills.
This movie will make you say “huh?” If you watch Abe expect to scratch your head at least 43 times. If you are able to embrace the crazy Russian director, disregard of history and total insanity you will appreciate this film.
Do not take this movie seriously. It is a straight-laced action epic that you can have a lot of fun with.
Good. Bad. Abe is the one with the axe.
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John’s Horror Corner: Mutant Hunt (1986), one of the most BONKERS movies I’ve ever seen!
Too gory for the silver screen my ass!
MY CALL: I’m surprised I didn’t develop a dissociative disorder as a form of mental defense against this assault on good taste—or even bad-horror taste. This review is a long one, but there was just too much worth sharing to leave anything out. IF YOU LIKE THIS WATCH: Lovers of the truly awful 80s (e.g., Alien Contamination, Deep Space, Galaxy of Terror, Inseminoid, Dreamaniac, Nightwish, Humanoids From the Deep, Slugs, Hardware, Of Unknown Origin, to name some reviewed by yours truly) should delight in rolling their eyes at this budgetless piece of vintage crap filmed entirely in one warehouse, a few sidewalks, a Chinese restaurant and one hotel room. DISCLAIMER: This is one of those reviews that was too fun to write. As such, I gave away a lot of the plot, twists (if any) and ending.
So here’s what I read on Netflix about this little gem: “When a corporate executive unleashes an army of cyborgs on New York, there’s only one man that stands between the Big Apple and total annihilation.” I’m not sure that a 1986 direct-to-video flick can deliver on that very well. But I watched it anyway.
Former gay pornographer and director Tom Kincaid (aka Joe Gage), known for the mind-numbingly stupid The Occultist and Robot Holocaust, has woven this atrocity that is littered with more horror in its production than in the film itself. You can just imagine how well this was written when the flick opens with some shoulder-padded General Zod wannabe (named Z) who is so mild mannered that he comes off as someone who should be named Bill Peterson (the actor’s actual name) more than someone who should be named “Z.”
Dude, is that Chris Klein?
Anyway, this unconvincing jackwagon looks like he ripped the upholstery out a Dolorian and wore it as a suit while leading a cadre of “cyborgs” with sunglasses, Devo haircuts and jumpsuits stolen from Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation. These cyborgs—which I would consider androids—shoot laser guns, speak like total tools, and short circuit easily. Called Delta-7s, three of them malfunction and kill three others. Why these three defected units acted as a WWF tag team against the others rather than attacking everything indiscriminately is completely beyond me.
The engineer of these short circuits (Marc Umile of, well, nothing worth mentioning) sends his sister Darla to find the one man who can handle these things with porn-quality kung fu kicks: his mercenary twin brother with hair of feathered testosterone Matt Riker (Rick Gianisi of Troma’s Sgt. Kabukiman; that explains a lot about this movie).
“Feathered Testosterone!”
Feathered, I said!
While being chased under laser pistol fire she runs on foot—fortuitously nearby around the corner of the same building by the timing of it—and catches him in bed with a pleasure droid (LeeAnne Baker of Galactic Gigolo) who, despite having about one topless line, manages to have the command performance of the movie before sleeping through a fight and then being dropped out the third floor window by a nutty Delta-7 as Riker goes all Showdown in Little Tokyo in his tightie-whities Lundgren-style with his sai.
Nobody puts baby in the corner!
He basically has a bedroom dojo complete with a machete (as the samurai are wont to keep readily on hand), boxing gloves, a heavy bag , crossbow, spear gun, shotgun, and a set of sai. As suggested on the movie cover, these droids have go-go-Gadget arms that they use surprisingly rarely. Just one time, in fact, in the entire f’ing movie! Oh, and not how it was used on the cover, but rather to reach a machete so that it could cut off its own hand because Riker handcuffed it to a pipe while he beat up the other cyborgs. WTF!!!
Why would it do that!?! It’s a cyborg handcuffed to a small pipe. Just rip out the pipe!
For whatever sensible reason, their strength and coordination seems conveniently drastically reduced when facing Riker and his allies. Depending on your personality, this makes the fights extremely boring or extremely hilarious to watch. Erring on the side of boredom, whenever Riker’s buddies are not involved in the actual fights they simply stand around looking bored while the people they care about pretend to kick seven shades of shit out of deadly robots! Oh, and there was a laser gun in that room they got off one of the deathbots. You will never see the heroes fire a laser gun again until the last 30 seconds of the movie. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather chance it with my fists.
During an explanation of these cyborgs, the corporation behind them and drugs these robots are high on we get blindsided by the line “ever since the space shuttle sex murders” and then never hear about it again. What is this line? What does it mean? WTF was that!?!
These mutant Delta-7s are for “hazardous occupations” and recently a few malfunctioned when a new serum was added. This serum is thee drug Euphoron and it induces psycho-sexual response programs resulting in killing for pleasure. And even though they have “five times normal human strength” and “unlimited telepathic power” (whatever that means) they suck at pretty much everything! Their movement is so zombie-tarded that if you stand still long enough they just might slowly execute Austin Powers judo chop on you. Worst fights ever. It seems anyone with any coordination could defeat these zombie-like goons. These things can make gravel out of concrete but can’t hurt Riker or his stripper friend (Elaine) when they get their hands on them. Pathetic.
Most random moments include: 1) Meeting a dude at Elaine’s strip club who looks like Andy Samberg (17 minutes in) and Elaine beats him up. 2) Oh, Riker’s stripper friend Elaine (Taunie Vrenon, another nobody), who is also a “fully accredited Federation agent” whatever that is, is recruited for “her usual fee” to help—which evidently means using her ineffectual front kicks on killbots and crying for help.
3) Felix (Ron Reynaldi, the only guy on set who could throw a kick) has a BlueTooth earpiece with GPS and a nav and Euphoron detection system in the 80s, no joke!
Wait a minute! This is the future, right? Why are you the only one with a cell phone? How did I even find this payphone!?!
Beats me, chick!
4) We learn that these hardly human droids need to kill every six hours and can feel pain—why on Earth would you design them to feel pain if you made them for “hazardous” work!?! 5) These droids are made so tough that Felix was able to Bruce Lee jump-stomp on their heads and make droid pudding.
One of a few examples of gore in this “too gory for the silver screen” epic.
By the time the movie gets going, there are only two Deltas for our three heroes to hunt down (for an hour of running time—an hour). So much for the “army of cyborgs” advertized by Netflix…dicks!
The actress playing Domina was pseudonymed Stormy Spills. Wisely, she chose not to be associated with this movie despite out-Chering Cher.
Looks like an unmasked Jason Voorhees got a little frisky with the Stay Puff Marshmellow Man.
She has one priceless scene, though. She captures Riker and implants an explosive device in his head with a knife. This somehow doesn’t affect him at all. She then demands he steal the Euphoron from Z or she’ll blow him up. Here are the actual quotes that follow…”OK, but only if you deactivate this bomb first.” “OK… there it’s deactivated.” “You mean it?” “Yes.” “You really mean it?” “Yes.” “OK.” Then he knocks her out with his elbow. WTFS!?! LMFAO!!! I’d also like to add that after trying to kill our heroes a few times she literally “exits stage right” by simply walking off the screen to safety, away from our heroes’ vengeful reach and laser gun aim.
Amazingly this has not yet been released in DVD or Blu-Ray format.
Here’s another flatulently idiotic additive: a scene which should read on a DVD flap chapter title That Just Happened. All you need to know is that Euphoron-ed Deltas seem to slowly away. I know, why not just wait for them to die on their own instead of hunting them down, right?
Okay, so Darla is taking a shower in… I don’t know, some arbitrary space this movie takes place in somewhere. Outside, by which I mean apparently simultaneously both directly outside the shower and still in the bathroom in Riker’s third floor apartment yet also outside on the sidewalk (first floor), we have a crazed mutant cyborg coming back to life (errr—function)… somehow or other. He has a face like a month-old calzone and he’s harder to listen to than Robin Williams moping his way through Bicentennial Man.
Easily the best make-up job in the movie.
He simply further dislocates his own jaw, pulls out a loose-hanging speaker by which he actually “talks,” and approaches Darla as she exits the shower… again, I don’t understand how this works at all spatially. It’s like, if you were to stand between these two and face one way you’re in the middle of a bathroom looking at a mirror and shower in a third floor condo, and if you turn 180° you’re in the middle of the street looking at a graffiti-covered brick wall and melty cyborg on the sidewalk. Anyway, Melty Crazed Mutant Cyborg (as we’ll call him) calmly explains himself as she exits the shower wearing a bathrobe that their control circuitry is making them malfunction and forcing them to kill someone every 6 hours. He just killed someone 15 minutes ago, though, so he’s going to be completely rational for the next 5 hours and 45 minutes. During this period, he’s asking her to take him to her brother (who built him) so he can be repaired because, frankly, he’s in a lot of pain. LMAO! Then, after all that, she screams in horror as he hoists her over his shoulder and walks off. Yeah. That just happened. That was a scene in this movie. Moving on… Oh, wait, not enough? Well in the final fight with the Delta-8 Darla just appears and shoots the dumb bot with a laser and, I just realized, Darla isn’t wearing any pants. Apparently she just tossed on an oversized dress shirt upon getting out of the shower and that’s all she’s been wearing for the last however long it’s been in their mission to save New York. All of the camera angles between the shower scene and the Delta-8 fight showed her only waist-up.
“Don’t let him use his hand!” yells the needlessly helpful cyborg with a face like a month-old calzone.
“Ooooh, I’m gonna’ use my hand.”
Oooh, he’s gonna do the go-go-Gadget arm thing. Quick, chick in over-sized dress shirt, let him have it! And, hey, did you have that laser gun the whole time?
Thank God, chick in over-sized dress shirt. “This” almost happened. You just saved the day from this movie getting cool for a second!
Although I deliberately neglected to share the details, this flick features an awful lot of plot. So sad that there’s really no follow-through. So the fights sucked, the writing was clearly deplorable, and the actors often seemed to be reading straight off of idiot cards. The director got one thing right, though: the random punk girl. Every movie about a post-apocalyptic future, zombies or cyborgs needs a random punk chick. Return of the Living Dead had Linnea Quigley dancing murderously-nude on a tomb, Return of the Living Dead 3 had a whole movie about falling in love with a neo-punk zombie chick, then Cyborg, Bladerunner, Escape from New York and Mad Max Beyond the Thunderdome had legions of them, and Class of Nuke’em High, Street Trash, Robot Holocaust and Mutant Hunt all feature the very same one: Chris McName—evidently she’s actually a he.
from Class of Nuke’em High
from Street Trash
Despite all this, I found myself enjoying this POS. It’s much better than you’d expect. Which is a lot like saying “Good news, it’s not HIV—just syphilis.” And the best thing is it’s streaming on Netflix, so you can watch all 77 wholesome minutes of it at a recommended 18 times daily. That’s your shamefully bad horror prescription from Dr. John.
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Movies, Films & Flix Roundtable: Breaking Dawn: Part 2
Mark: This series has passed pet rocks, hammer pants and Von Dutch hats as the weirdest pop culture phenomena ever. A werewolf falls in love with a baby, nobody likes the main character and the movies have made over two billion dollars but average 37% on Rotten Tomatoes. I hope in ten years everybody says “whoops.”
Vince When Jay V and I lived together we would play Twilight. We would antique ourselves and put novelty fangs on our dog Bourbon.
Jay: I miss this.
Chuck Finley: This is something that has bothered me about these vampires for a long time: Where does the semen come from!?!? Think about it. And also, why would real life Rob Pattinson want to date What’s Her Face. It’s like giving him a million dollars and telling him to pick a car to spend it on and he picks a Toyota Tercel.
John: Do you think Edward ever thinks: “Why do you wear a bewildered and depressed expression all the damned time, K-Stew? I’m the vampire here! I’m supposed to be the moody apathetic one bored with his existence! Oh, yeah, and where DID I get this semen? Pretty sure I’ve been dead for a long time…”
Mark: I’ve always felt bad for Water for Pattinsons character. He has a sullen K-Stew who he can accidentally tear apart at any given moment, has to deal with a shirtless clan of badly CGI’d wolves and he has to look at stuff with a bland look and mouth open 73% of the time….He also sparkles.
John: Only David Bowie, Dee Snyder and Nathan Lane may sparkle; and no other!
Mark: They cut out the sparkling in the fourth film due to a Dee Snyder lawsuit.
John: Dee’s not gonna take it–no, he’s not gonna’ take it!
Mark: I’m amazed that after five films the vampires still look like they were antiqued by Johnny Knoxville.
Mark: I’m thinking of some alternate titles:
Breaking Dawn: Stern Looks
Breaking Dawn: We have lots of beautiful trees
Breaking Dawn: Fewer questions than Prometheus
Breaking Dawn: Where is Abe Lincoln?
Chuck Finley: Breaking Dawn 5: Pedowolf vs. Giant Dractopus
Breaking Dawn: Thank God it’s over.
Mark: Michael Sheen is the main pale bad guy in Breaking Dawn. I think his know it all character from Midnight in Paris would be a more frightening adversary. He would zap their energy with an oral history of vampires then demolish the Twilight books with several well placed intellectual words. Then, steal Bella from Edward.
Sweet Sugar: Vampire #1: Let’s get medieval on their asses!
Michael Sheen: Which part of the Middle Ages? If my memory serves me correctly, the Middle Ages is the period of European history encompassing the 5th to the 15th centuries, usually is divided into the Early Middle Ages, the High Middle Ages, and the Late Middle Ages …
Mark: Vampire #1: High Middle Ages!
Michael Sheen: Ah,, the ages wrecked by plague, scurvy and poor sanitation.
Vampire #1: I hate Michael Sheen. Where is Steve Coogan?
Mark: I can sum up this trailer with a simple list:
1. loud noises
2. Monotone voices
3. A grown werewolf in love with a child.
….Stewart was good in Adventureland though.
Movies, Films & Flix 