Based on Dean Koontz's cracking 1983 novel, this is lent a certain level of credibility given that the author himself wrote the screenplay.
The Plot: Two sisters, Lisa and Jenny Pailey, head to Snowfield, a small town in Colorado, population roughly 500, to escape the trials and stresses of family life.
As they drive into town, the place seems alarmingly quiet, even for such an isolated community. Entering a building, they discover a corpse, but worse is to follow as the two women discover a series of grisly finds; severed hands, arm, legs and feet, as well as more bodies, the people apparently falling where they stood, with no sign of a struggle.
What could possibly kill an entire population so swiftly that no-one has time to react?
And what link Timothy Flyte, editor and some time lecturer in matters mysterious and unexplainable?
For those familiar with the flatworm theory, the answer may be self evident.
For others, you’ll have to watch to find the answers.
Whilst many horror book to movie conversions are pretty unsuccessful, as Mr. King has found out to his cost on more than one occasion, this is not the case here.
Koontz's book is a master class in tension and intrigue, and the movie is certainly heading in the same direction. With some decent scripting, and above average 'names' in terms of the actors featured (Ben Affleck, Peter O'Toole, Rose McGowan, Liev Schreiber) this was clearly meant to be Koontz's big break into mainstream cinema. That it didn't turn out that way had more to do with marketing than the poor quality of the movie itself.
An old fashioned horror movie in many ways, this showcases credible character interplay, a nice line in vicious, face-eating beasties and is infused with a sense of the macabre almost from the opening shot, so should satisfy most horror devotees out there.
Even the presence of the usually vapid Affleck and the perma-bland Liev Schrieber can't keep this one down.
Proper horror, done the old school way, I enjoyed this very much indeed.
4 out of 5
Tuesday 27 July 2010
Monday 26 July 2010
Inception (2010) Dir: Christopher Nolan
Inception is the best movie ever made.
Inception is the most intelligent movie ever made.
Inception is the most ambitious concept ever to be committed to celluloid.
I have read all of the above sentiments with regards Christopher Nolan's latest offering and, whilst it is a very, very good film, don't be fooled by the hype machine.
The plot:
Leonardo plays Cobb, a man haunted by a traumatic event in his life, an event that means he is never allowed to return home to see his children. Cobb is also an Extractor, a man with the ability, through training not supernature, to enter people's dreams to 'extract' information. He does this with the aid of an Architect, a person adept at sculpting dreamscapes that fool the sleeping victim into revealing the information, no matter the secrecy.
When Cobb is given the opportunity to do 'one last job' at first he resists, but when the carrot is dangled before him that on successful completion he will, at last, be able to return home, he agrees.
The job?
Inception.
Instead of stealing an idea, can he place one within the mind of another and fool them into thinking that they thought of the idea themselves, independently.
Clever, no?
And it is clever.
This is a clever movie.
This is a movie that is chock full of smarts, and no mistakin'.
But that does not make it quite as awesome as everyone else seems to be claiming for, along with the IQ, come flaws:
It's too long by about twenty minutes, with many scenes stretched to breaking point.
The Cobb 'haunted by his past' dynamic I could have done without, thanks all the same.
The ending was a bit predictable, with most of the revelations flagged up well in advance.
I'll balance that out with the plus points:
The physical special effects were a real breath of fresh air in these sterile days of CGI overkill.
The performances all round are superb.
The action sequences were deftly handled.
But it is certainly not a masterclass.
In fact, if you want the truth, I think this movie is actually indicative of just how far we have allowed our standards to fall, of just what we have allowed Hollywood to get away with for too many long years.
Movies should challenge us, movies should stretch us, as this one surely does, but the fact that it feels so rare, so strange is in itself a savage indictment of the movie industry as a whole.
Heh, I'm not slating Nolan here: he's done his job consistently brilliantly for the best part of a decade now, it's just a shame we have allowed the situation where others feel they don't have to follow suit.
So, before you bemoan the lack of other quality, intelligent big budget movies take a look at your DVD collection, or Netflix queue. If a single McG or Michael Bay movie is present, ask yourself this simple question:
Am I partially to blame?
4 out of 5
Inception is the most intelligent movie ever made.
Inception is the most ambitious concept ever to be committed to celluloid.
I have read all of the above sentiments with regards Christopher Nolan's latest offering and, whilst it is a very, very good film, don't be fooled by the hype machine.
The plot:
Leonardo plays Cobb, a man haunted by a traumatic event in his life, an event that means he is never allowed to return home to see his children. Cobb is also an Extractor, a man with the ability, through training not supernature, to enter people's dreams to 'extract' information. He does this with the aid of an Architect, a person adept at sculpting dreamscapes that fool the sleeping victim into revealing the information, no matter the secrecy.
When Cobb is given the opportunity to do 'one last job' at first he resists, but when the carrot is dangled before him that on successful completion he will, at last, be able to return home, he agrees.
The job?
Inception.
Instead of stealing an idea, can he place one within the mind of another and fool them into thinking that they thought of the idea themselves, independently.
Clever, no?
And it is clever.
This is a clever movie.
This is a movie that is chock full of smarts, and no mistakin'.
But that does not make it quite as awesome as everyone else seems to be claiming for, along with the IQ, come flaws:
It's too long by about twenty minutes, with many scenes stretched to breaking point.
The Cobb 'haunted by his past' dynamic I could have done without, thanks all the same.
The ending was a bit predictable, with most of the revelations flagged up well in advance.
I'll balance that out with the plus points:
The physical special effects were a real breath of fresh air in these sterile days of CGI overkill.
The performances all round are superb.
The action sequences were deftly handled.
But it is certainly not a masterclass.
In fact, if you want the truth, I think this movie is actually indicative of just how far we have allowed our standards to fall, of just what we have allowed Hollywood to get away with for too many long years.
Movies should challenge us, movies should stretch us, as this one surely does, but the fact that it feels so rare, so strange is in itself a savage indictment of the movie industry as a whole.
Heh, I'm not slating Nolan here: he's done his job consistently brilliantly for the best part of a decade now, it's just a shame we have allowed the situation where others feel they don't have to follow suit.
So, before you bemoan the lack of other quality, intelligent big budget movies take a look at your DVD collection, or Netflix queue. If a single McG or Michael Bay movie is present, ask yourself this simple question:
Am I partially to blame?
4 out of 5
Sunday 25 July 2010
Cellular (2004) Dir: David R. Ellis
Larry 'The Stuff' 'It's Alive!' Cohen is not a man known for wasting a good idea so, here, he retreads ground similar to that covered in the short, sharp 2002 Colin Farrell thriller Phone Booth.
The plot: A primary school teacher, Jessica Martin (Kim Basinger) is kidnapped by a ruthless gang who believe her husband has something that they want, and they will do whatever it takes to get their hands on it. Trapped in her own attic, the wall mounted telephone smashed to smithereens, Jessica jiggles a few wires and touches a few cables together and gets lucky, managing to make a connection to a man called Ryan (Chris Evans) on his mobile.
At first, he doesn't believe her story but, when one of the gang members re-enters the attic and Ryan hears threats issued, he is convinced, kick starting a race against time.
Can Ryan reach Jessica's husband and son before Jayson Stayffum and his cronies get their hands on them.
High concept stuff, I'm sure you'll agree, with the mobile phone plot device an effective one, lending the movie a genuine sense of the frantic.
Of course, on occasion, things become somewhat implausible - Ryan's method of obtaining a charger, the fact that the police don't take him down within minutes of commandeering the Porsche, the fact that Ryan didn't just head straight to the nearest newspaper HQ the second he saw what the crooks were after - but these quibbles are minor, and kind of missing the point.
This is all about the adrenaline rush.
Have to say, ten minutes in I felt sure I was going to hate the movie, as Ryan's character was fleshed out on Santa Monica pier, his perfect physique and Jockish banter with his 'bestest buddy' enough to make you pray for the Megashark to emerge from beneath the waves and chow down on the insufferable prick, but give the film the credit it deserves, once the MacGuffin was in place, the energy carried it through to the end.
A good action thriller.
But no more than that.
4 out of 5
The plot: A primary school teacher, Jessica Martin (Kim Basinger) is kidnapped by a ruthless gang who believe her husband has something that they want, and they will do whatever it takes to get their hands on it. Trapped in her own attic, the wall mounted telephone smashed to smithereens, Jessica jiggles a few wires and touches a few cables together and gets lucky, managing to make a connection to a man called Ryan (Chris Evans) on his mobile.
At first, he doesn't believe her story but, when one of the gang members re-enters the attic and Ryan hears threats issued, he is convinced, kick starting a race against time.
Can Ryan reach Jessica's husband and son before Jayson Stayffum and his cronies get their hands on them.
High concept stuff, I'm sure you'll agree, with the mobile phone plot device an effective one, lending the movie a genuine sense of the frantic.
Of course, on occasion, things become somewhat implausible - Ryan's method of obtaining a charger, the fact that the police don't take him down within minutes of commandeering the Porsche, the fact that Ryan didn't just head straight to the nearest newspaper HQ the second he saw what the crooks were after - but these quibbles are minor, and kind of missing the point.
This is all about the adrenaline rush.
Have to say, ten minutes in I felt sure I was going to hate the movie, as Ryan's character was fleshed out on Santa Monica pier, his perfect physique and Jockish banter with his 'bestest buddy' enough to make you pray for the Megashark to emerge from beneath the waves and chow down on the insufferable prick, but give the film the credit it deserves, once the MacGuffin was in place, the energy carried it through to the end.
A good action thriller.
But no more than that.
4 out of 5
Saturday 24 July 2010
Mega Shark vs Giant Octopus (2009) Dir: Jack Perez
There are some movie titles that just scream out at me '"Watch this!" despite the fact that I know, with absolute certainty, they will be awful.
There are certain movie conventions and genre's that just demand my attention and, for my shame, giant killer sharks is most certainly one of them. The context almost doesn't matter All I need to know about a film is that it will feature at least one enormous, mutant shark, though more is better, as with the very entertaining Shark Swarm, the movie with possibly my favourite DVD cover:
as well as a great tagline: Fear travels in packs.
So, with Mega Shark vs Giant Octopus the promise is that we will have not one, but two aquatic behemoths, presumably engaged in battle, Godzilla Vs. Mothra styleeeee.....
The plot: As a glacier suddenly recedes due to global warming, the titular monsters are released from their icy prison, where they have been encased since prehistoric times:
Megalodon, a hitherto extinct species of super shark that, according to the fiction of the movie, can leap as high as the clouds and ensnare a jumbo jet coming into land.
Giant Octopus, an eight tentacled brute that seems to attack anything that moves, but has a particular dislike for Megalodon's.
A team of scientists led by 80's pop starlet Debbie 'Electric Youth' Gibson (!) devise a plan to bring the beasts back together, in an ocean trench, where they will fight to their watery death.
Being an Asylum movie, several things are guaranteed:
The narrative will struggle to fill the running time, resulting in many torturously lengthy scenes that lead nowhere.
The special effects will be diabolical and repetitive.
The acting will be on a par with most 70's porn.
All of the above are present and correct.
But something is missing here. Some indefinable ingredient that elevates it above the insipid into kitsch, campy goodness.
As bizarre as it may seem with such a title, the movie is just not OTT enough. Despite the plane attack, despite the shark hanging off the fucking Golden Gate Bridge, despite the ambition far above what the budget could ever stretch to.
In fact, this movie committed the cardinal sin for a a B movie: It bored me.
Pretty disappointed with this one.
2 out of 5
There are certain movie conventions and genre's that just demand my attention and, for my shame, giant killer sharks is most certainly one of them. The context almost doesn't matter All I need to know about a film is that it will feature at least one enormous, mutant shark, though more is better, as with the very entertaining Shark Swarm, the movie with possibly my favourite DVD cover:
as well as a great tagline: Fear travels in packs.
So, with Mega Shark vs Giant Octopus the promise is that we will have not one, but two aquatic behemoths, presumably engaged in battle, Godzilla Vs. Mothra styleeeee.....
The plot: As a glacier suddenly recedes due to global warming, the titular monsters are released from their icy prison, where they have been encased since prehistoric times:
Megalodon, a hitherto extinct species of super shark that, according to the fiction of the movie, can leap as high as the clouds and ensnare a jumbo jet coming into land.
Giant Octopus, an eight tentacled brute that seems to attack anything that moves, but has a particular dislike for Megalodon's.
A team of scientists led by 80's pop starlet Debbie 'Electric Youth' Gibson (!) devise a plan to bring the beasts back together, in an ocean trench, where they will fight to their watery death.
Being an Asylum movie, several things are guaranteed:
The narrative will struggle to fill the running time, resulting in many torturously lengthy scenes that lead nowhere.
The special effects will be diabolical and repetitive.
The acting will be on a par with most 70's porn.
All of the above are present and correct.
But something is missing here. Some indefinable ingredient that elevates it above the insipid into kitsch, campy goodness.
As bizarre as it may seem with such a title, the movie is just not OTT enough. Despite the plane attack, despite the shark hanging off the fucking Golden Gate Bridge, despite the ambition far above what the budget could ever stretch to.
In fact, this movie committed the cardinal sin for a a B movie: It bored me.
Pretty disappointed with this one.
2 out of 5
The Host (2006) Dir: Joon-ho Bong
I liked this, but I so wanted to love it.
On a warm, pleasant day down by the Han River in South Korea's capital, Seoul, there are people aplenty. Students relaxing by the water, couples walking hand in hand, just enjoying each others company. One family run business takes advantage of its strategic location, selling chocolate bars, cold drinks and simple meals to the milling masses. The father who runs the place seems to do all of the graft, his lazy, layabout son constantly falling asleep behind the counter, giving youngsters the opportunity to steal their goods. After a customer complains that their squid does not have enough tentacles (!) the younger of the two goes to hand them a replacement when something strange is seen hanging beneath the bridge. All eyes are drawn when, suddenly, it drops from the bridge, plunging into the water beneath. As the crowd gathers, something is seen approaching the shore, a dark shape beneath the surface that most seem to believe is a dolphin, increasing the excitement. As it reaches the riverbank, it's no fucking dolphin , instead an enormous-toothed beast with powerful legs for running and a gaping jaw that proceeds to go on the rampage, snapping at anything that moves.
Our young hero bravely tries to help those running but he too must flee and is horrified when he spies the monstrosity approaching his own daughter. As he tries to lure the thing away it ignores him, snatching her up in its mouth before plunging back into the river and away. Presumed dead, the father receives a call from his daughter (I apologise for the lack of identification but I'm no good with Korean names. Call me a daft old racist if you must) who informs him that she is in a sewer somewhere, though in a pit from which there is no escape.
So begins the hunt to find her before the creature devours her once and for all.
It's nonsense.
Of course it is, but well realised and fairly shocking nonsense at that.
The inspiration behind Cloverfield, apparently, the comparisons are limited once you get past the 'behemoth emerges from the water' angle as, culturally, the two movies are poles apart. Here, we see much more of the monster and, crucially, we get to know the characters involved much more intimately.
Being an Asian movie, there are issues for a Western viewer, particularly when it comes to the moments of humour - the scene where the family are grieving in an OTT manner is particularly bizarre - as, for the most part, humour is confined to one part of the world for a reason: No-one else finds it funny.
The monster itself is very well realised, albeit obviously CGI'd though, oddly, here it is not an issue, despite my constant gripings about the over-use of computer effects these days.
A schizophrenic movie, then, with moments to drop the jaw and moments to leave you scratching your head wondering just what the hell is going on, but never less than entertaining and, at times, spellbinding.
Check it out (subtitled preferably, not dubbed, you unspeakable droogs).
4 out of 5
On a warm, pleasant day down by the Han River in South Korea's capital, Seoul, there are people aplenty. Students relaxing by the water, couples walking hand in hand, just enjoying each others company. One family run business takes advantage of its strategic location, selling chocolate bars, cold drinks and simple meals to the milling masses. The father who runs the place seems to do all of the graft, his lazy, layabout son constantly falling asleep behind the counter, giving youngsters the opportunity to steal their goods. After a customer complains that their squid does not have enough tentacles (!) the younger of the two goes to hand them a replacement when something strange is seen hanging beneath the bridge. All eyes are drawn when, suddenly, it drops from the bridge, plunging into the water beneath. As the crowd gathers, something is seen approaching the shore, a dark shape beneath the surface that most seem to believe is a dolphin, increasing the excitement. As it reaches the riverbank, it's no fucking dolphin , instead an enormous-toothed beast with powerful legs for running and a gaping jaw that proceeds to go on the rampage, snapping at anything that moves.
Our young hero bravely tries to help those running but he too must flee and is horrified when he spies the monstrosity approaching his own daughter. As he tries to lure the thing away it ignores him, snatching her up in its mouth before plunging back into the river and away. Presumed dead, the father receives a call from his daughter (I apologise for the lack of identification but I'm no good with Korean names. Call me a daft old racist if you must) who informs him that she is in a sewer somewhere, though in a pit from which there is no escape.
So begins the hunt to find her before the creature devours her once and for all.
It's nonsense.
Of course it is, but well realised and fairly shocking nonsense at that.
The inspiration behind Cloverfield, apparently, the comparisons are limited once you get past the 'behemoth emerges from the water' angle as, culturally, the two movies are poles apart. Here, we see much more of the monster and, crucially, we get to know the characters involved much more intimately.
Being an Asian movie, there are issues for a Western viewer, particularly when it comes to the moments of humour - the scene where the family are grieving in an OTT manner is particularly bizarre - as, for the most part, humour is confined to one part of the world for a reason: No-one else finds it funny.
The monster itself is very well realised, albeit obviously CGI'd though, oddly, here it is not an issue, despite my constant gripings about the over-use of computer effects these days.
A schizophrenic movie, then, with moments to drop the jaw and moments to leave you scratching your head wondering just what the hell is going on, but never less than entertaining and, at times, spellbinding.
Check it out (subtitled preferably, not dubbed, you unspeakable droogs).
4 out of 5
New Nightmare (1994) Dir: We Craven
The 7th in the Nightmare series was released to fairly mixed reviews, some hailing it a post-modern horror classic, others incapable of seeing through their genre jaded prejudices and declaring it derivative and wholly unoriginal.
New Nightmare is many things, but unoriginal it ain't.
The plot: Heather Langenkamp plays herself, a moderately successful actress, best known for playing the part of Nancy in parts 1 & 3 of the series.
Robert Englund is also a chief protaganmist, again playing himself, the man behind the Freddy mask.
With Wes Craven suddenly struck by a new idea for a Nightmare movie, he has taken to writing again, and is eager that both Heather and Robert are a part of the movie.
When strange events begin to occur, including some pretty grisly killings, Heather begins to become convinced that there is more to what is happening in Craven's imagination than simply penning a new movie, begins to believe, in fact, that Freddy is trying to break through from the world of fiction into the real world, to hunt down and kill all those involved in the original movie way back in 1984.
See, I told you it was pretty original.
As well as an elevation in storytelling craft, the direction is first rate as are the performances (though Langenkamp still can't act for shit).
Craven, in revisiting his most famous horror creation, manages to demonstrate that Freddy, far from the comic book, wise-cracking anti-hero that he became in the later Nightmare movies is in fact a frightening, dread-inspiring creature more than capable of putting the willies up an audience.
Clever, unpredictable and, at times, pretty intense, this is a successful reinvention.
4 out of 5
New Nightmare is many things, but unoriginal it ain't.
The plot: Heather Langenkamp plays herself, a moderately successful actress, best known for playing the part of Nancy in parts 1 & 3 of the series.
Robert Englund is also a chief protaganmist, again playing himself, the man behind the Freddy mask.
With Wes Craven suddenly struck by a new idea for a Nightmare movie, he has taken to writing again, and is eager that both Heather and Robert are a part of the movie.
When strange events begin to occur, including some pretty grisly killings, Heather begins to become convinced that there is more to what is happening in Craven's imagination than simply penning a new movie, begins to believe, in fact, that Freddy is trying to break through from the world of fiction into the real world, to hunt down and kill all those involved in the original movie way back in 1984.
See, I told you it was pretty original.
As well as an elevation in storytelling craft, the direction is first rate as are the performances (though Langenkamp still can't act for shit).
Craven, in revisiting his most famous horror creation, manages to demonstrate that Freddy, far from the comic book, wise-cracking anti-hero that he became in the later Nightmare movies is in fact a frightening, dread-inspiring creature more than capable of putting the willies up an audience.
Clever, unpredictable and, at times, pretty intense, this is a successful reinvention.
4 out of 5
Sweeney! (1977) Dir: David Wickes
Cult British police show classic The Sweeney spawned two spin off movies, the first of which – Sweeney! – by far the better of the pair.
The plot: A politician, known for an occasional dalliance with ladies of vice, is threatened with ruination when a prostitute he has been 'visiting' is found dead in his hotel suite. Rather than face up to his misdemeanours, he instead chooses to hide his involvement. All seems well, until a friend of the dead woman asks hard smoking, hard drinking, hard punching Detective Regan to investigate and, when he starts asking the right questions to the wrong people, a plan is set in motion to discredit him. Suspended from The Flying Squad on a drink driving charge that was only partially erroneous – he had been drinking though, to ensure a conviction, he was pulled over by a couple of crooked police sorts, kidnapped and forced to swallow an entire bottle of spirits – Regan must go it alone to uncover the truth, with even his ever faithful partner Carter reluctant to get involved.
Gritty is a word often batted about when The Sweeney is mentioned and, in this case, it is absolutely applicable.
Locations are chosen for their levels of dereliction and the dialogue is stripped to the bone, with barely a sentence passing by without an expletive or three offered, the conversations ribald and profane, though never without good reason. Inevitably, some of the language would be deemed inappropriate in this day and age, specifically in terms of attitudes towards race and women but, some allowance must be made given the context.
I’m not saying it’s OK, I’m just saying it’s understandable given the age of the movie and the type of characters portrayed.
Look, I said it’s not OK.
Heh!
What the hell are you doing? Why are you handcuffing me? Oh Christ, it’s the moral acceptability police come to take me away....and they're wearing Kevlar vests with the word OUTRAGED writ large across their chests.
With lashings of violence, though sporadic, and a crackling atmosphere, this is one TV to movie spin off that managed to make the transition without losing too much credibility.
Good stuff.
4 out of 5
The plot: A politician, known for an occasional dalliance with ladies of vice, is threatened with ruination when a prostitute he has been 'visiting' is found dead in his hotel suite. Rather than face up to his misdemeanours, he instead chooses to hide his involvement. All seems well, until a friend of the dead woman asks hard smoking, hard drinking, hard punching Detective Regan to investigate and, when he starts asking the right questions to the wrong people, a plan is set in motion to discredit him. Suspended from The Flying Squad on a drink driving charge that was only partially erroneous – he had been drinking though, to ensure a conviction, he was pulled over by a couple of crooked police sorts, kidnapped and forced to swallow an entire bottle of spirits – Regan must go it alone to uncover the truth, with even his ever faithful partner Carter reluctant to get involved.
Gritty is a word often batted about when The Sweeney is mentioned and, in this case, it is absolutely applicable.
Locations are chosen for their levels of dereliction and the dialogue is stripped to the bone, with barely a sentence passing by without an expletive or three offered, the conversations ribald and profane, though never without good reason. Inevitably, some of the language would be deemed inappropriate in this day and age, specifically in terms of attitudes towards race and women but, some allowance must be made given the context.
I’m not saying it’s OK, I’m just saying it’s understandable given the age of the movie and the type of characters portrayed.
Look, I said it’s not OK.
Heh!
What the hell are you doing? Why are you handcuffing me? Oh Christ, it’s the moral acceptability police come to take me away....and they're wearing Kevlar vests with the word OUTRAGED writ large across their chests.
With lashings of violence, though sporadic, and a crackling atmosphere, this is one TV to movie spin off that managed to make the transition without losing too much credibility.
Good stuff.
4 out of 5
The Myth (2005) Dir: Stanley Tong
Jackie Chan goes all mystical and mythic on our collective arseholes in this engagingly silly fantasy.
The plot: Our man Chan plays renowned archaeologist Jack (yeah, I know, I know. Just roll with it) who seems to be experiencing two lives at once. The first, his normal if pretty exciting life digging up relics and unearthing ancient artifacts, his second, a world of dreams in which he is an ancient Chinese warrior, set around the time the Great Wall of China was first constructed, approximately 200 years BC.
Inevitably, the two worlds collide, and the heroic Jack must do battle against foes both mythic and mortal to uncover the location of an ancient mausoleum that could yet provide the secret of immortality.
Wilfully silly, this is pure flight of fancy stuff, unusual for Chan, but he takes it all in his impressively athletic stride. Jackie's knocking on a bit by now, already into his 50's, but that doesn't stop him leaping around the set like a thing possessed, the trademark fast paced, close contact martial arts on show, along with his uncanny ability to use whatever is in the vicinity. One scene of genuine Jackie Chan gold involves a fight on a conveyor belt that is coated in super strong adhesive, forcing Chan to improvise, removing articles of clothing from both himself and those around him to navigate his way to safety.
Funny and impressive all at the same time.
Whilst not up there with his earlier movies - Project A, Police Story et al - this is nevertheless something of a return to form after the unwatchable diabolicus that was the Rush Hour franchise.
3 out of 5
The plot: Our man Chan plays renowned archaeologist Jack (yeah, I know, I know. Just roll with it) who seems to be experiencing two lives at once. The first, his normal if pretty exciting life digging up relics and unearthing ancient artifacts, his second, a world of dreams in which he is an ancient Chinese warrior, set around the time the Great Wall of China was first constructed, approximately 200 years BC.
Inevitably, the two worlds collide, and the heroic Jack must do battle against foes both mythic and mortal to uncover the location of an ancient mausoleum that could yet provide the secret of immortality.
Wilfully silly, this is pure flight of fancy stuff, unusual for Chan, but he takes it all in his impressively athletic stride. Jackie's knocking on a bit by now, already into his 50's, but that doesn't stop him leaping around the set like a thing possessed, the trademark fast paced, close contact martial arts on show, along with his uncanny ability to use whatever is in the vicinity. One scene of genuine Jackie Chan gold involves a fight on a conveyor belt that is coated in super strong adhesive, forcing Chan to improvise, removing articles of clothing from both himself and those around him to navigate his way to safety.
Funny and impressive all at the same time.
Whilst not up there with his earlier movies - Project A, Police Story et al - this is nevertheless something of a return to form after the unwatchable diabolicus that was the Rush Hour franchise.
3 out of 5
Solaris (1972) Dir: Andrei Tarkovsky
Andrei Tarkovsky's original Solaris is a brooding, melancholic affair, beautifully shot, that is as absorbing as it is long.
The plot: A psychologist, Kris Kelvin, is sent to a space station orbiting the mysterious ocean planet Solaris, after reports of strange goings on aboard reach mission control, not to mention the disappearance and possible murder of one of the scientists aboard.
When Kris reaches the space station, he is greeted with open hostility by the two survivors, and is perplexed by the young woman he keeps seeing fleetingly, though no woman is reportedly aboard. It's not long before his sanity is stretched to breaking point as he is paid visits by his long dead wife, victim of suicide.
Where are the hallucinations coming from, and what is there purpose?
Could it be the planet itself trying to communicate with him?
Hauntingly emotive, this is a slow burner that will drag like a dog's posterior on wet grass for some, but will simply fly by for others.
If action, explosions and laser battles is what you look for in your sci-fi, steer well clear of this, for this is much more austere, a thinking man's science fiction movie, unfit for the dribbling masses.
As Tarkovsky's painful attention to detail allows the narrative to slowly unfold, at an achingly sombre pace, the majesty of the visuals sweeps you along, utterly captivating, utterly riveting, as scene after visually sumptuous scene will leave your mind reeling, convinced that someone must have spiked you with a hallucinogen, for how else to explain the wonders you are witnessing?
At two hours forty five in duration, this is challengingly long, especially bearing in mind that almost nothing happens, but this isn't about plot twists and sleight of hand scripting, this is all about sensory stimulation, and the director achieves his aim, and then some.
As beautifully evocative a movie as you are likely to see, this comes highly recommended.
5 out of 5
The plot: A psychologist, Kris Kelvin, is sent to a space station orbiting the mysterious ocean planet Solaris, after reports of strange goings on aboard reach mission control, not to mention the disappearance and possible murder of one of the scientists aboard.
When Kris reaches the space station, he is greeted with open hostility by the two survivors, and is perplexed by the young woman he keeps seeing fleetingly, though no woman is reportedly aboard. It's not long before his sanity is stretched to breaking point as he is paid visits by his long dead wife, victim of suicide.
Where are the hallucinations coming from, and what is there purpose?
Could it be the planet itself trying to communicate with him?
Hauntingly emotive, this is a slow burner that will drag like a dog's posterior on wet grass for some, but will simply fly by for others.
If action, explosions and laser battles is what you look for in your sci-fi, steer well clear of this, for this is much more austere, a thinking man's science fiction movie, unfit for the dribbling masses.
As Tarkovsky's painful attention to detail allows the narrative to slowly unfold, at an achingly sombre pace, the majesty of the visuals sweeps you along, utterly captivating, utterly riveting, as scene after visually sumptuous scene will leave your mind reeling, convinced that someone must have spiked you with a hallucinogen, for how else to explain the wonders you are witnessing?
At two hours forty five in duration, this is challengingly long, especially bearing in mind that almost nothing happens, but this isn't about plot twists and sleight of hand scripting, this is all about sensory stimulation, and the director achieves his aim, and then some.
As beautifully evocative a movie as you are likely to see, this comes highly recommended.
5 out of 5
Serenity (2005) Dir: Joss Whedon
After the appalling network treatment of the excellent series, Firefly, it seemed only fitting that director and creator Joss Whedon was given the opportunity to complete his tale with this full scale, cinematic outing.
Serenity, a Firefly class salvage vessel, populated by a band of likeable vagabonds who take whatever work they can find, legal or otherwise. Among their number, Simon and River Tam, a brother and sister act, he a doctor, she a troubled sort, having been genetically and mentally 'altered' by The Alliance, the ruling force who, several years prior, won the war against the independents and now lead with an iron fist.
The Alliance are very keen to get their gauntlet clad hands on River once more, as Simon busted her out of their high security facility, but Captain Mal Reynolds is determined to keep them both safe.
An unnamed operative is sent by The Alliance to track down River and bring her back, dead or alive, with kill privileges in place as necessary, but River won't be easy to reclaim, not with Reavers in the area....
Effectively a scaled up version of one of the untransmitted episodes (Objects in Space) here the character of the bounty hunter Jubal Early is replaced by The Operative, though their raison d'etre remains the same.
With a bigger budget, the effects and action scenes are ramped up accordingly, though the beating heart of the series - the character interplay - is not forgotten, the script as witty and warm as anything seen in the series.
Fusing Western and Sci-Fi stylings may seem a strange idea at first but, even if you have not seen the TV show, you will quickly adapt to the oddness; the archaic language used on occasion, the swearing in Chinese, the combination of high and low technology and, unless you truly are the kind of monster who can only find entertainment nourishment from soap opera or reality TV blandness, you will be hard pressed not to be engaged right from the get go.
An excellent sci-fi adventure, here at last being given the respect it deserves, this is simply great.
Serenity, a Firefly class salvage vessel, populated by a band of likeable vagabonds who take whatever work they can find, legal or otherwise. Among their number, Simon and River Tam, a brother and sister act, he a doctor, she a troubled sort, having been genetically and mentally 'altered' by The Alliance, the ruling force who, several years prior, won the war against the independents and now lead with an iron fist.
The Alliance are very keen to get their gauntlet clad hands on River once more, as Simon busted her out of their high security facility, but Captain Mal Reynolds is determined to keep them both safe.
An unnamed operative is sent by The Alliance to track down River and bring her back, dead or alive, with kill privileges in place as necessary, but River won't be easy to reclaim, not with Reavers in the area....
Effectively a scaled up version of one of the untransmitted episodes (Objects in Space) here the character of the bounty hunter Jubal Early is replaced by The Operative, though their raison d'etre remains the same.
With a bigger budget, the effects and action scenes are ramped up accordingly, though the beating heart of the series - the character interplay - is not forgotten, the script as witty and warm as anything seen in the series.
Fusing Western and Sci-Fi stylings may seem a strange idea at first but, even if you have not seen the TV show, you will quickly adapt to the oddness; the archaic language used on occasion, the swearing in Chinese, the combination of high and low technology and, unless you truly are the kind of monster who can only find entertainment nourishment from soap opera or reality TV blandness, you will be hard pressed not to be engaged right from the get go.
An excellent sci-fi adventure, here at last being given the respect it deserves, this is simply great.
Land of the Dead (2005) Dir: George A. Romero
Romero takes us on a fourth outing of his much celebrated 'Zombies' narrative, this one a very modern, very different animal from its precursors.
The plot: Set at an unspecified time, both in terms contemporary and in relation to the other movies in the series (assuming this is all the same universe in the first place - an argument for another time) here we see the teeming dead setting siege to a luxurious high rise community, Fiddler's Green (an unfortunate turn of phrase for those in the UK) which is 'governed' by Dennis Hopper's grotesquely wealthy and uncaring Paul Kaufman.
Those within the walls of the city are protected from the masticators of mankind's matter, by both river and electric fence, living in relative contentment whilst the world beyond falls into ever deeper decay.
A small band of survivors do what they can to eke out an existence, taking what they need from abandoned shops whilst at the same time protecting themselves from zombies and would be thieves alike.
Kaufman himself is responsible for an armoured vehicle known as Dead Reckoning, replete with heavy artillery and a barrage of fireworks which are used to distract the corpsified ones when necessary. What Kaufman doesn't reckon upon is that his world of comfort is about to be shattered on two fronts; by a slighted ex-employee who takes offence at being given the boot, and by the zombies who seem determined to get their hands on the fresh meat within Fiddler's Green.
The zombies themselves are an evolution - perhaps in response to the Rage style monsters that inhabit the more recent 'zombie' movies such as 28 Days Later and even the Dawn of the Dead remake - now capable of handling tools and performing rudimentary tasks and they have a leader, an emotional zombified sort who keens and wails whenever any of his own kind fall.
With Romero, you expect social commentary and he delivers, this time his ire apparently aimed at the recent trend for the wealthy and privileged to inhabit gated communities, isolating themselves, shut off and protected from The Great Unwashed.
Perhaps not as gory as Day of the Dead, this still has enough gruel to satisfy most blood fiends out there, though it is worth noting that, however blasphemous it may be to state this, some of Tom Savini's make up design for the zombies is starting to feel a little out of date.
Whilst I am aware that this movie does not quite reach the heights of the previous offerings, this is still damn good quality horror, done the old fashioned way, which is to be commended.
Yes, I'm a fanboy when it comes to Romero and, yes, I have a bit of a soft spot for the zombie genre in general, but this ain't 'alf bad.
Besides, I'd forgive Romero most things.
I might even let him fellate me if he asked really, really nicely.
4 out of 5
The plot: Set at an unspecified time, both in terms contemporary and in relation to the other movies in the series (assuming this is all the same universe in the first place - an argument for another time) here we see the teeming dead setting siege to a luxurious high rise community, Fiddler's Green (an unfortunate turn of phrase for those in the UK) which is 'governed' by Dennis Hopper's grotesquely wealthy and uncaring Paul Kaufman.
Those within the walls of the city are protected from the masticators of mankind's matter, by both river and electric fence, living in relative contentment whilst the world beyond falls into ever deeper decay.
A small band of survivors do what they can to eke out an existence, taking what they need from abandoned shops whilst at the same time protecting themselves from zombies and would be thieves alike.
Kaufman himself is responsible for an armoured vehicle known as Dead Reckoning, replete with heavy artillery and a barrage of fireworks which are used to distract the corpsified ones when necessary. What Kaufman doesn't reckon upon is that his world of comfort is about to be shattered on two fronts; by a slighted ex-employee who takes offence at being given the boot, and by the zombies who seem determined to get their hands on the fresh meat within Fiddler's Green.
The zombies themselves are an evolution - perhaps in response to the Rage style monsters that inhabit the more recent 'zombie' movies such as 28 Days Later and even the Dawn of the Dead remake - now capable of handling tools and performing rudimentary tasks and they have a leader, an emotional zombified sort who keens and wails whenever any of his own kind fall.
With Romero, you expect social commentary and he delivers, this time his ire apparently aimed at the recent trend for the wealthy and privileged to inhabit gated communities, isolating themselves, shut off and protected from The Great Unwashed.
Perhaps not as gory as Day of the Dead, this still has enough gruel to satisfy most blood fiends out there, though it is worth noting that, however blasphemous it may be to state this, some of Tom Savini's make up design for the zombies is starting to feel a little out of date.
Whilst I am aware that this movie does not quite reach the heights of the previous offerings, this is still damn good quality horror, done the old fashioned way, which is to be commended.
Yes, I'm a fanboy when it comes to Romero and, yes, I have a bit of a soft spot for the zombie genre in general, but this ain't 'alf bad.
Besides, I'd forgive Romero most things.
I might even let him fellate me if he asked really, really nicely.
4 out of 5
Dolores Claiborne (1995) Dir: Taylor Hackford
Question: Is it possible to make a decent movie out of probably Stephen King's most boring book (and that's up against some pretty stiff competition, folks, much as I love him).
Answer: Just about.
The plot: Dolores Claiborne (Kathy Bates) is an old fashioned sort, living in a Maine backwater, washed out, having spent half of her life being run down by an abusive, alcoholic husband and the other half nursing a hideously pedantic rich old bitch for whom everything must be just so. We pick up the story as Dolores' estranged daughter Selena (the scrumptious Jennifer Jason Leigh) comes a-visitin', not out of the goodness of her heart, but because her mother is charged with murder, for the second time in her life. First time round, it was her husband she was accused of killing, though nothing was ever proved whilst, this time, it is the old woman she tends to.
The detective who failed to put her behind bars way back when is convinced she is guilty once more and will stop at nothing to make sure justice is served, a man on a mission, fuelled by the burning resentment he feels at his failure to secure a conviction all those years ago.
But what reason to kill the old hag?
One million dollars worth of reasons, in the form of an inheritance, Dolores the sole beneficiary.
The casting of Bates is a strange one, though perhaps understandable in marketing terms for the drooling masses.
"'Er was in vat Misery filum, wor 'er? Must be a seekwel, eh it?'"
Casting someone who created such an iconic character as Annie Wilkes was brave, especially as that film too was obviously adapted from a novel by the same author, but it pays off as she is clearly the star turn, evoking sympathy by the eyeful as the brow-beaten old spinster, alone in the world now that the woman she cared for is gone, even when in the same room as her own daughter.
Whilst not King's usual raison d'etre, it is hardly alien territory to the macabre one, as this taps into the same dark vein as much of his horror work, despite the lack of ghoulies and ghosties.
A tad overlong, this outstays its welcome by roughly twenty minutes, but nevertheless is a stylish, grimly tense and claustrophobic affair, spiced up by some power acting and King's trademark colourful and jaundiced black humour infusing the piece.
A quality crime drama.
4 out of 5
Answer: Just about.
The plot: Dolores Claiborne (Kathy Bates) is an old fashioned sort, living in a Maine backwater, washed out, having spent half of her life being run down by an abusive, alcoholic husband and the other half nursing a hideously pedantic rich old bitch for whom everything must be just so. We pick up the story as Dolores' estranged daughter Selena (the scrumptious Jennifer Jason Leigh) comes a-visitin', not out of the goodness of her heart, but because her mother is charged with murder, for the second time in her life. First time round, it was her husband she was accused of killing, though nothing was ever proved whilst, this time, it is the old woman she tends to.
The detective who failed to put her behind bars way back when is convinced she is guilty once more and will stop at nothing to make sure justice is served, a man on a mission, fuelled by the burning resentment he feels at his failure to secure a conviction all those years ago.
But what reason to kill the old hag?
One million dollars worth of reasons, in the form of an inheritance, Dolores the sole beneficiary.
The casting of Bates is a strange one, though perhaps understandable in marketing terms for the drooling masses.
"'Er was in vat Misery filum, wor 'er? Must be a seekwel, eh it?'"
Casting someone who created such an iconic character as Annie Wilkes was brave, especially as that film too was obviously adapted from a novel by the same author, but it pays off as she is clearly the star turn, evoking sympathy by the eyeful as the brow-beaten old spinster, alone in the world now that the woman she cared for is gone, even when in the same room as her own daughter.
Whilst not King's usual raison d'etre, it is hardly alien territory to the macabre one, as this taps into the same dark vein as much of his horror work, despite the lack of ghoulies and ghosties.
A tad overlong, this outstays its welcome by roughly twenty minutes, but nevertheless is a stylish, grimly tense and claustrophobic affair, spiced up by some power acting and King's trademark colourful and jaundiced black humour infusing the piece.
A quality crime drama.
4 out of 5
Predators (2010) Dir: Nimród Antal
I must confess, I was desperately excited about this movie, as evidenced by my first day of release viewing, something I can rarely be bothered to do, though my anticipation was tempered somewhat by the knowledge that, usually, I have a preference for old over new.
So, would the updating be an effective one?
Oh yes!
The plot: The movie opens in a quite dramatic fashion, with Our Hero Royce (the seemingly omnipresent Adrien Brody, if the trailers that ran before this movie are anything to go by) falling through the sky at great speed, a parachute strapped to his back, but the bloody thing won't open. Inevitably, he survives the fall, and meets up with several others who have befallen a similar fate, the last thing they remember a flash of light, then nothing, before awakening in freefall.
It soon transpires that the motley collection of dubious specimens have been deliberately selected for their specialist skills: a Yakuza, a black ops. mercenary, a guerrilla fighter...you get the picture, though amongst their number, a doctor, who doesn't quite seem to fit the mould.
Puzzled as to what has happened, it's not long before we are right in the action, a pack of alienoid dogs attacking the group, but worse is to follow. Realising that they are not on Earth, but instead on a strange, multi-mooned jungle planet, the band of disreputables soon figure out their purpose for being there: to be hunted.
More action packed than the original, though perhaps lacking a little in terms of atmosphere, there are some genuine standout moments:
The initial alien dog attack; the first glimpses of The Predators; Morpheus's sudden appearance, all bedecked in full on Predator suit, though his presence is more of a cameo, despite his high billing on the posters; the Yakuza guy's Samurai sword fight with a solitary Predator in a moonlit field of knee high grass.
Oh, and don't be fooled as I was. Rodriguez did not direct this movie, simply produced it, camera duties being handled by the marvellously monikered Nimród Antal, the man behind the lens for the pretty decent 2007 motel horror yarn Vacancy.
With The Predator's themselves fleshed out a little more than in either of the previous movies, I was more than a little impressed by this modern slice of sci-fi horror.
Liked it a lot.
4 out of 5.
So, would the updating be an effective one?
Oh yes!
The plot: The movie opens in a quite dramatic fashion, with Our Hero Royce (the seemingly omnipresent Adrien Brody, if the trailers that ran before this movie are anything to go by) falling through the sky at great speed, a parachute strapped to his back, but the bloody thing won't open. Inevitably, he survives the fall, and meets up with several others who have befallen a similar fate, the last thing they remember a flash of light, then nothing, before awakening in freefall.
It soon transpires that the motley collection of dubious specimens have been deliberately selected for their specialist skills: a Yakuza, a black ops. mercenary, a guerrilla fighter...you get the picture, though amongst their number, a doctor, who doesn't quite seem to fit the mould.
Puzzled as to what has happened, it's not long before we are right in the action, a pack of alienoid dogs attacking the group, but worse is to follow. Realising that they are not on Earth, but instead on a strange, multi-mooned jungle planet, the band of disreputables soon figure out their purpose for being there: to be hunted.
More action packed than the original, though perhaps lacking a little in terms of atmosphere, there are some genuine standout moments:
The initial alien dog attack; the first glimpses of The Predators; Morpheus's sudden appearance, all bedecked in full on Predator suit, though his presence is more of a cameo, despite his high billing on the posters; the Yakuza guy's Samurai sword fight with a solitary Predator in a moonlit field of knee high grass.
Oh, and don't be fooled as I was. Rodriguez did not direct this movie, simply produced it, camera duties being handled by the marvellously monikered Nimród Antal, the man behind the lens for the pretty decent 2007 motel horror yarn Vacancy.
With The Predator's themselves fleshed out a little more than in either of the previous movies, I was more than a little impressed by this modern slice of sci-fi horror.
Liked it a lot.
4 out of 5.
Jackie Chan's First Strike (1996) Dir: Stanley Tong
Also known as Police Story 4, this sees Chan's Supercop on the trail of a missing nuclear warhead, a trail that sees him globe-trotting quite impressively taking in, amongst other places, Australia and The Ukraine.
Not much else to say about the plot as, clearly, in movies such as this, the plot is ultimately playing a massive second fiddle to the action in much the same way as a Bond movie; the plot is merely a device used as an excuse to stage ludicrously over the top action set pieces. It's interesting to note that, when planning the reboot of the Bond franchise with Casino Royale a couple of years ago, the Bond team consulted extensively with those responsible for choreographing the action and fight sequences in Chan's movies.
Impressive.
Most impressive.
Chan is his usual, high energy bundle of litheness, springing around the set like a simian half his age, making use of everything in his vicinity to fend off the bad guys including, in one dizzying sequence, a full size stepladder.
The Bond homages are plentiful, the snowbound chase on snowcats through an alpine forest being the one that springs immediately to mind, along with the anthemic, chest thumping incidental music that accompanies it which could have been lifted direct from the Roger Moore era.
Only one small gripe here, which is the principle female lead. In most Jackie Chan movies, the women, whilst poorly scripted, are nonetheless kick ass when it comes to the fighting, more than able to hold their own in the kung fu stakes, and even get to take part in some of the more dangerous stunts. Here, the main female, Annie Tsui, played by Annie Wu, is nothing short of an irritant, constantly weeping and screaming and coming across as a bit of a wet fish, which is a shame.
I am a little puzzled, too, as to the version I watched, which seemed to end bizarrely. I have seen this movie before, though many moons ago, and I seem to recall a rather cool denouement involving a hovercraft, though that was completely absent, the movie ending abruptly after roughly one hour fifteen minutes. Now, I did watch this on Channel 5 (UK) and they can hardly be considered a broadcaster of excellence, though even for them, truncating a movie before the final showdown would be a new low. If anyone can shed any light on this, perhaps reassuring me that I am not entirely deluded, I'd appreciate it.
Certainly not Jackie's best movie, but a diverting enough way to spend an afternoon nonetheless.
Not much else to say about the plot as, clearly, in movies such as this, the plot is ultimately playing a massive second fiddle to the action in much the same way as a Bond movie; the plot is merely a device used as an excuse to stage ludicrously over the top action set pieces. It's interesting to note that, when planning the reboot of the Bond franchise with Casino Royale a couple of years ago, the Bond team consulted extensively with those responsible for choreographing the action and fight sequences in Chan's movies.
Impressive.
Most impressive.
Chan is his usual, high energy bundle of litheness, springing around the set like a simian half his age, making use of everything in his vicinity to fend off the bad guys including, in one dizzying sequence, a full size stepladder.
The Bond homages are plentiful, the snowbound chase on snowcats through an alpine forest being the one that springs immediately to mind, along with the anthemic, chest thumping incidental music that accompanies it which could have been lifted direct from the Roger Moore era.
Only one small gripe here, which is the principle female lead. In most Jackie Chan movies, the women, whilst poorly scripted, are nonetheless kick ass when it comes to the fighting, more than able to hold their own in the kung fu stakes, and even get to take part in some of the more dangerous stunts. Here, the main female, Annie Tsui, played by Annie Wu, is nothing short of an irritant, constantly weeping and screaming and coming across as a bit of a wet fish, which is a shame.
I am a little puzzled, too, as to the version I watched, which seemed to end bizarrely. I have seen this movie before, though many moons ago, and I seem to recall a rather cool denouement involving a hovercraft, though that was completely absent, the movie ending abruptly after roughly one hour fifteen minutes. Now, I did watch this on Channel 5 (UK) and they can hardly be considered a broadcaster of excellence, though even for them, truncating a movie before the final showdown would be a new low. If anyone can shed any light on this, perhaps reassuring me that I am not entirely deluded, I'd appreciate it.
Certainly not Jackie's best movie, but a diverting enough way to spend an afternoon nonetheless.
The Exorcist (1973) Dir: William Friedkin
Without question the finest horror movie ever made, that has lost none of its power to freeze the blood in the near forty years since its original unleashing.
The plot: Regan, a young girl, daughter of a well known movie actress begins exhibiting startling and provocative behaviour, the extremity of which appears to be on the rise. Her mother tries all of the usual experts; doctors, psychiatrists, but none of them can explain her bizarre behaviour, much less the fact that, when in her frenzied state, her actual appearance appears to change almost as if she were becoming someone else, and someone damn ugly at that.
At her wits end, Regan's mother turns to those experts in all things spiritual (and a few other things I shall choose not to mention) the Catholic church, and begs a young priest, on the cusp of renouncing his own faith, to perform an exorcism on her daughter. Skeptical at first, he is soon convinced when he pays a visit on Regan, but he himself must seek permission from the Church. His immediate superior accepts his request, on the condition that an elder Priest lead the exorcism, Father Merrin, played with genuine conviction by the marvellous Max Von Sydow.
Can the two priests save the little girl and vanquish the evil spirit?
What was that damn stuff that spewed from her mouth?
And was there anyone that didn't cheer when the annoying drunken Englishman was hurled from the window?
This movie is so good it renders me literally speechless every time I watch it.
It has it all:
It's scary as hell, with an atmosphere to chill the stoniest of hearts.
There's the odd moment of gruelly nastiness, with the infamous pea soup vomit, head twisting sequences and vaginal abuse with a crucifix.
Talking of crucifixes being used inappropriately, there's a healthy line in blasphemy throughout - something I always approve of - with the church held up to ridicule by the monstrosity within the small girl though, of course, ultimately faith wins out over fear.
Shame.
The performances from all are top notch, with special mentions for Linda Blair as Regan, a more convincing teenager as demonic force you'll be hard pushed to find, whilst Ellen Burstyn (she sounds like someone who really needs to take a pee) does a sterling job of capturing the terror any parent would feel should their child happen to be, say, possessed by something monstrous.
Having spent time with my sister's kids, I think it's a more frequent occurrence than you may suspect.
Wonderfully paced, beautifully shot and THAT score from Mike Oldfield, this is about as good as cinema gets.
5 out of 5. Inevitably.
The plot: Regan, a young girl, daughter of a well known movie actress begins exhibiting startling and provocative behaviour, the extremity of which appears to be on the rise. Her mother tries all of the usual experts; doctors, psychiatrists, but none of them can explain her bizarre behaviour, much less the fact that, when in her frenzied state, her actual appearance appears to change almost as if she were becoming someone else, and someone damn ugly at that.
At her wits end, Regan's mother turns to those experts in all things spiritual (and a few other things I shall choose not to mention) the Catholic church, and begs a young priest, on the cusp of renouncing his own faith, to perform an exorcism on her daughter. Skeptical at first, he is soon convinced when he pays a visit on Regan, but he himself must seek permission from the Church. His immediate superior accepts his request, on the condition that an elder Priest lead the exorcism, Father Merrin, played with genuine conviction by the marvellous Max Von Sydow.
Can the two priests save the little girl and vanquish the evil spirit?
What was that damn stuff that spewed from her mouth?
And was there anyone that didn't cheer when the annoying drunken Englishman was hurled from the window?
This movie is so good it renders me literally speechless every time I watch it.
It has it all:
It's scary as hell, with an atmosphere to chill the stoniest of hearts.
There's the odd moment of gruelly nastiness, with the infamous pea soup vomit, head twisting sequences and vaginal abuse with a crucifix.
Talking of crucifixes being used inappropriately, there's a healthy line in blasphemy throughout - something I always approve of - with the church held up to ridicule by the monstrosity within the small girl though, of course, ultimately faith wins out over fear.
Shame.
The performances from all are top notch, with special mentions for Linda Blair as Regan, a more convincing teenager as demonic force you'll be hard pushed to find, whilst Ellen Burstyn (she sounds like someone who really needs to take a pee) does a sterling job of capturing the terror any parent would feel should their child happen to be, say, possessed by something monstrous.
Having spent time with my sister's kids, I think it's a more frequent occurrence than you may suspect.
Wonderfully paced, beautifully shot and THAT score from Mike Oldfield, this is about as good as cinema gets.
5 out of 5. Inevitably.
The King of Comedy (1982) Dir: Martin Scorsese
A blackly comic tale of an aspiring comedian, and a savage swipe at the entertainment industry in general.
DeNiro plays Rupert Pupkin, an awkward, vaguely OCD individual who is as persistent and nagging as he is strange. He lives at home with his mother who seems to offer him little support, constantly bending his ear when he tries to work on new material or prepare audition tapes in his room, the room itself containing two black and white, life size cut-outs of Liza Minelli and Jerry Langford, a chat show host superstar who Pupkin is modelling himself on.
Pupkin's world is a strange one, full of delusion and misdirection, his mind apparently capable of bending events around him to fit into his own scheme of things, though incapable of accepting negativity.
Pupkin meets Langford as he emerges from his studio, fending off a manic female fan before jumping into the back of a car with him. Taken aback, Langford agrees to talk with Pupkin, who just wants him to listen to his routine, to critique and advise and, perhaps, have him in the chat show as a guest. Clearly eager to be rid of the maniac, Langford advises him to drop into his office so that he can hear the material, which Pupkin duly does, though Langford refuses to see him. Undeterred, Pupkin produces a tape, sends that in, though still no joy until eventually, with encouragement from fellow struggling comic Masha (the wonderfully odd Sandra Bernhard) he kidnaps Langford, taking him hostage. His demand: to be a guest on The Jerry Langford Show so that he can perform his stand-up routine.
DeNiro's performance as the wired, mentally unstable Pupkin is astonishing. To begin with, it seems a little peculiar, the mannerisms so exaggerated, the timbre of the voice so un-DeNiro that it takes a little getting used to but, once established, you can but marvel at the skill on show.
The tone of the movie is perfect, a melancholic mania infusing the piece as we see the world mainly through Pupkin's eyes, feeling every setback and defeat, all the time worrying for his mental health.
Scorcese and DeNiro have worked together on some marvellous movies and, perhaps, this is one that is oft overlooked in favour of the more notorious Raging Bull, Taxi Driver, Goodfellas et al, which is a shame as, even though there is next to no violence here, still there is tension aplenty.
An underrated gem.
5 out of 5
DeNiro plays Rupert Pupkin, an awkward, vaguely OCD individual who is as persistent and nagging as he is strange. He lives at home with his mother who seems to offer him little support, constantly bending his ear when he tries to work on new material or prepare audition tapes in his room, the room itself containing two black and white, life size cut-outs of Liza Minelli and Jerry Langford, a chat show host superstar who Pupkin is modelling himself on.
Pupkin's world is a strange one, full of delusion and misdirection, his mind apparently capable of bending events around him to fit into his own scheme of things, though incapable of accepting negativity.
Pupkin meets Langford as he emerges from his studio, fending off a manic female fan before jumping into the back of a car with him. Taken aback, Langford agrees to talk with Pupkin, who just wants him to listen to his routine, to critique and advise and, perhaps, have him in the chat show as a guest. Clearly eager to be rid of the maniac, Langford advises him to drop into his office so that he can hear the material, which Pupkin duly does, though Langford refuses to see him. Undeterred, Pupkin produces a tape, sends that in, though still no joy until eventually, with encouragement from fellow struggling comic Masha (the wonderfully odd Sandra Bernhard) he kidnaps Langford, taking him hostage. His demand: to be a guest on The Jerry Langford Show so that he can perform his stand-up routine.
DeNiro's performance as the wired, mentally unstable Pupkin is astonishing. To begin with, it seems a little peculiar, the mannerisms so exaggerated, the timbre of the voice so un-DeNiro that it takes a little getting used to but, once established, you can but marvel at the skill on show.
The tone of the movie is perfect, a melancholic mania infusing the piece as we see the world mainly through Pupkin's eyes, feeling every setback and defeat, all the time worrying for his mental health.
Scorcese and DeNiro have worked together on some marvellous movies and, perhaps, this is one that is oft overlooked in favour of the more notorious Raging Bull, Taxi Driver, Goodfellas et al, which is a shame as, even though there is next to no violence here, still there is tension aplenty.
An underrated gem.
5 out of 5
The Collector (2009) Dir: Marcus Dunstan
I'm feeling an immense sense of relief right now.
Just returned from the cinema where I watched yet another modern horror movie. As I entered the theatre, I was waiting to be disappointed, waiting to feel that burning fury that festers after the first thirty minutes or so, just waiting for the anger to boil over on the way home; screaming at the driver in front for moving too slowly, banging the horn in frustration, or rolling the window down to scream at the old lady doddering across the road with her arms laden with shopping bags, screeching 'Move you fucking hag,' not really angry at her, angry at the lamentable efforts of the movie makers, lashing out at those who deserve it least.
But, no such reaction today.
Today I am an ocean of tranquility, my heart beating slowly in my chest, thirty eight, thirty nine, forty times a minute as I focus on slowing my metabolism to a near catatonic state in a bid to prolong the feelings of genuine pleasure that are coursing through me having sat through ninety minutes of gruel, gruesomeness and gore that had me grinning like an imbecile by the end.
Here's the plot: Arkin is a man on the edge. His girlfriend has until midnight to lay her hands on a serious amount of cash to fend of the loan sharks that are circling, teeth bared, eager for their pound of flesh. Out of nought but desperation, he plans the robbery of a very wealthy family he has been working for, casing the joint in case of just such an eventuality. He's figured out where the safe is and knows full well that concealed within is a gem worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Getting in is the easy part but, once inside, he discovers he is not alone. The Collector is present, an unidentified male sporting a rather fetching gimp mask and, unexpectedly, the family are still home, trussed up in the basement, playthings of The Collector.
Can Arkin escape the house that The Collector has riddled with lethal booby traps?
Can he help the family escape?
Or will his latent homosexual feelings emerge as he spies the man in leather, so that they join forces and start double-teaming the father whilst still bound in coils of barbed wire?
(I made that last bit up).
Directed by the man responsible for penning Saws 4 through 7, you pretty much know what you are letting yourself in for here, and he delivers it with some conviction.
Nasty, brutal and genuinely shocking in places - the secateurs on the tongue is particularly sac shrinking - this is one of those that will divide even horror aficionados, with lovers and loathers in equal measure, some declaring it torture porn, some revelling in its ghastliness.
If Saw or Hostel were too much for your mellow disposition, I'd avoid this like brown snow as this is a nastier animal altogether.
Liked it a lot.
4 out of 5
Just returned from the cinema where I watched yet another modern horror movie. As I entered the theatre, I was waiting to be disappointed, waiting to feel that burning fury that festers after the first thirty minutes or so, just waiting for the anger to boil over on the way home; screaming at the driver in front for moving too slowly, banging the horn in frustration, or rolling the window down to scream at the old lady doddering across the road with her arms laden with shopping bags, screeching 'Move you fucking hag,' not really angry at her, angry at the lamentable efforts of the movie makers, lashing out at those who deserve it least.
But, no such reaction today.
Today I am an ocean of tranquility, my heart beating slowly in my chest, thirty eight, thirty nine, forty times a minute as I focus on slowing my metabolism to a near catatonic state in a bid to prolong the feelings of genuine pleasure that are coursing through me having sat through ninety minutes of gruel, gruesomeness and gore that had me grinning like an imbecile by the end.
Here's the plot: Arkin is a man on the edge. His girlfriend has until midnight to lay her hands on a serious amount of cash to fend of the loan sharks that are circling, teeth bared, eager for their pound of flesh. Out of nought but desperation, he plans the robbery of a very wealthy family he has been working for, casing the joint in case of just such an eventuality. He's figured out where the safe is and knows full well that concealed within is a gem worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Getting in is the easy part but, once inside, he discovers he is not alone. The Collector is present, an unidentified male sporting a rather fetching gimp mask and, unexpectedly, the family are still home, trussed up in the basement, playthings of The Collector.
Can Arkin escape the house that The Collector has riddled with lethal booby traps?
Can he help the family escape?
Or will his latent homosexual feelings emerge as he spies the man in leather, so that they join forces and start double-teaming the father whilst still bound in coils of barbed wire?
(I made that last bit up).
Directed by the man responsible for penning Saws 4 through 7, you pretty much know what you are letting yourself in for here, and he delivers it with some conviction.
Nasty, brutal and genuinely shocking in places - the secateurs on the tongue is particularly sac shrinking - this is one of those that will divide even horror aficionados, with lovers and loathers in equal measure, some declaring it torture porn, some revelling in its ghastliness.
If Saw or Hostel were too much for your mellow disposition, I'd avoid this like brown snow as this is a nastier animal altogether.
Liked it a lot.
4 out of 5
Reservoir Dogs (199) Dir: Quentin Tarantino
There are films and then there are great films.
Reservoir Dogs, a movie that came as a real wake up call to the stagnating crime thriller genre, as taut a movie as it is possible to conceive is as effective and gripping now as the day it first baited the Daily Mail and it's ilk upon release.
In case you have been trapped in an alternate dimension for the past 18 years, here's the plot:
A small group of criminals are hired by Joe Cabot, an old timer crook and his son Nice Guy Eddie to pull a heist on a diamond merchant. The plan is simple. Two on crowd control, one watching the door, two snatching the jewels. The gang are known only by their codenames, all colours. Things turn ugly when Mr. Blonde starts a shooting spree in the store, the gang forced to flee and head to their rendezvous point, an abandoned warehouse, at least those who survived the hail of bullets from the cops who seemed to be on the scene surprisingly quickly.
In the warehouse, those that remain try to piece together what really happened, as well as determine who ratted them out, whilst the whole time Mr. Orange is bleeding to death from a gun shot wound to the gut.
By turns stomach churning and laugh out loud funny - though only those with a taste for the macabre need apply - the combination of Tarantino's razor sharp scripting and seat of the pants direction draws you in, the tension ratcheted up by degrees until the final calamitous moments, showing a mastery of the directorial art that belied his status as a debutante behind the lens.
The lead actors give remarkably emotional and powerful performances, particularly Tim Roth and Harvey Kietel though, perhaps, the star turn here is Michael Madsen as the psychopathic Blonde.
In addition, Tarantino's selection of music is just about flawless, every tune chosen to add an extra dynamic to the scenes as they unfold and, notoriously, Wes 'A Nightmare on Elm Street' Craven is alleged to have left the cinema in disgust during the infamous 'ear-lop' scene as he felt the use of music was actually offensive, somehow downplaying the gravity of the events on screen.
Either that or he was simply green with envy that many moons had elapsed since last he had managed to sicken the audience so.
Intelligent, harrowing and genuinely nerve shredding, this is simply a masterpiece.
Reservoir Dogs, a movie that came as a real wake up call to the stagnating crime thriller genre, as taut a movie as it is possible to conceive is as effective and gripping now as the day it first baited the Daily Mail and it's ilk upon release.
In case you have been trapped in an alternate dimension for the past 18 years, here's the plot:
A small group of criminals are hired by Joe Cabot, an old timer crook and his son Nice Guy Eddie to pull a heist on a diamond merchant. The plan is simple. Two on crowd control, one watching the door, two snatching the jewels. The gang are known only by their codenames, all colours. Things turn ugly when Mr. Blonde starts a shooting spree in the store, the gang forced to flee and head to their rendezvous point, an abandoned warehouse, at least those who survived the hail of bullets from the cops who seemed to be on the scene surprisingly quickly.
In the warehouse, those that remain try to piece together what really happened, as well as determine who ratted them out, whilst the whole time Mr. Orange is bleeding to death from a gun shot wound to the gut.
By turns stomach churning and laugh out loud funny - though only those with a taste for the macabre need apply - the combination of Tarantino's razor sharp scripting and seat of the pants direction draws you in, the tension ratcheted up by degrees until the final calamitous moments, showing a mastery of the directorial art that belied his status as a debutante behind the lens.
The lead actors give remarkably emotional and powerful performances, particularly Tim Roth and Harvey Kietel though, perhaps, the star turn here is Michael Madsen as the psychopathic Blonde.
In addition, Tarantino's selection of music is just about flawless, every tune chosen to add an extra dynamic to the scenes as they unfold and, notoriously, Wes 'A Nightmare on Elm Street' Craven is alleged to have left the cinema in disgust during the infamous 'ear-lop' scene as he felt the use of music was actually offensive, somehow downplaying the gravity of the events on screen.
Either that or he was simply green with envy that many moons had elapsed since last he had managed to sicken the audience so.
Intelligent, harrowing and genuinely nerve shredding, this is simply a masterpiece.
Boogeyman (2005) Dir: Stephen T. Kay
Sometimes modern horror really pisses me off.
Here's how it works:
Steal the shell of an idea from J-horror, particularly in terms of the jaggedy-spiky-twitchy effects cast in a green-grey hue at the moments that are supposed to be blood chilling, you know, to really lay it on thick so that the audience has absolutely no doubt that 'Vis is v momint yume ment to be scayrd.'
Make one or two preposterous assumptions.
Assumption 1: No-one in the audience has ever seen a horror movie before.
Assumption 2: It's OK to replace genuine dynamics and dread with 'jump' moments facilitated by a sudden screeching blast, sharp and jarring, thus waking the viewers up from the near vegetative state they find themselves in after struggling through the cinematic equivalent of diarrhoea you are smearing all over the screen.
Added to the assumptions comes the ridiculous notion that your main 'menace' can come in the form of a CGI only monster that has about as much of a chill factor as the crack of my buttocks after a lengthy run around the park.
Learn, you fucking morons, learn. If even the mighty David Fincher struggles to make a CGI beastie frightening in his Alien attempt, how are you talentless droons going to stand any chance of making it work.
Oh yeah, and to ensure you know that he is frightening, every time the eponymous Boogeyman (Boogie Man would have been more terrifying, a demon from the fifth layer of hell that quite literally funks his victims into raw, bloody submission) the beast screeches as loudly as the dim witted studio execs permit by law for fear of litigation, joining in with the 'musical' cacophony so that your ears are rendered obsolete, fingers stuffed into your lugholes to block out the din, a sound so ferocious its vibrations on your very tongue mean you can actually taste the decibels.
Jesus covered in foam, I HATED this.
1 out of 5
Here's how it works:
Steal the shell of an idea from J-horror, particularly in terms of the jaggedy-spiky-twitchy effects cast in a green-grey hue at the moments that are supposed to be blood chilling, you know, to really lay it on thick so that the audience has absolutely no doubt that 'Vis is v momint yume ment to be scayrd.'
Make one or two preposterous assumptions.
Assumption 1: No-one in the audience has ever seen a horror movie before.
Assumption 2: It's OK to replace genuine dynamics and dread with 'jump' moments facilitated by a sudden screeching blast, sharp and jarring, thus waking the viewers up from the near vegetative state they find themselves in after struggling through the cinematic equivalent of diarrhoea you are smearing all over the screen.
Added to the assumptions comes the ridiculous notion that your main 'menace' can come in the form of a CGI only monster that has about as much of a chill factor as the crack of my buttocks after a lengthy run around the park.
Learn, you fucking morons, learn. If even the mighty David Fincher struggles to make a CGI beastie frightening in his Alien attempt, how are you talentless droons going to stand any chance of making it work.
Oh yeah, and to ensure you know that he is frightening, every time the eponymous Boogeyman (Boogie Man would have been more terrifying, a demon from the fifth layer of hell that quite literally funks his victims into raw, bloody submission) the beast screeches as loudly as the dim witted studio execs permit by law for fear of litigation, joining in with the 'musical' cacophony so that your ears are rendered obsolete, fingers stuffed into your lugholes to block out the din, a sound so ferocious its vibrations on your very tongue mean you can actually taste the decibels.
Jesus covered in foam, I HATED this.
1 out of 5
Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010) Dir: Mike Newell
Movies based on video games, they're a bit rubbish, aren't they?
Street Fighter, Mario Bros, Doom, House of the Dead.
The list goes on.
But wait.
What's that?
A movie based on a video game rated 6.9 on IMDB?
Surely not?
That means it must be good, or at least not terrible, was my thought as I ventured into the multiplex in tandem with the good woman, who had expressed concerns on the way that it wouldn't be any good at all. Pish and posh, I said, take that 6.9 on IMDB and stick it right were the beans don't jump.
So, who was right?
Well, it is certainly the best video game tie-in movie set in ancient Persia about a magical dagger I have ever seen....
Here's the skinny, kids: I love the games this is based on. My first exposure was way back when on the Atari ST, as the Prince jumped from platform to platform shimmied along ledges and generally acted like a nauseatingly athletic son of a whore and I've kept with him, at least up to his PS2 incarnations. Add to that the fact I have a tendency to forgive Jake Gyllenhaal most things just for being Donnie Darko.
But the movie is freakin' awful.
It starts off promisingly enough, with some hokum about Gyllenhaal's pauper boy Dastan being saved from poverty by the king. Skip forward to adulthood, and Dastan is charging into battle, slipping into a castle unnoticed to open a rear gate to allow easy access for the rest of the legion.
So far, so medieval, but all too soon the tedium kicks in.
Dastan is betrothed to be married to the beautiful Princess of the defeated city, Tamina, shortly before his father is murdered by a poisoned coat (!), Dastan believed to be the culprit so, with Tamina on his arm they flee, though theirs is not to be a peaceable relationship as she schemes to get her hands on The Dagger that allows time to be set in reverse, then it seems one of his brothers may be behind the murder before the true revelation follows that someone else is the bad guy and they survive a sand storm and they ride a lot on horses and even then on ostrich's and get involved in a punch up with a merchant in the Valley of Slaves and....sweet Jesus, my mind is about to melt.
Seriously, they throw so much at you, both in terms of plot and on screen mayhem that, eventually, you just start to shut it all out, like white noise on a TV screen when you've lost the remote control, your brain blocking the chaos as best it can lest you go blind through madness.
Poorly paced, with no sense of crescendo, instead scenes just follow on from each other, the fight sequences towards the end of the movie no more violent or perilous than those at the beginning and with some of the dodgiest CGI I've seen in a while, this is shallow, vapid and spiritually crippling.
But heh, I knew all that as it's based on a game, what I did not expect was to be bored to miserable tears.
Don't bother.
2 out of 5
Street Fighter, Mario Bros, Doom, House of the Dead.
The list goes on.
But wait.
What's that?
A movie based on a video game rated 6.9 on IMDB?
Surely not?
That means it must be good, or at least not terrible, was my thought as I ventured into the multiplex in tandem with the good woman, who had expressed concerns on the way that it wouldn't be any good at all. Pish and posh, I said, take that 6.9 on IMDB and stick it right were the beans don't jump.
So, who was right?
Well, it is certainly the best video game tie-in movie set in ancient Persia about a magical dagger I have ever seen....
Here's the skinny, kids: I love the games this is based on. My first exposure was way back when on the Atari ST, as the Prince jumped from platform to platform shimmied along ledges and generally acted like a nauseatingly athletic son of a whore and I've kept with him, at least up to his PS2 incarnations. Add to that the fact I have a tendency to forgive Jake Gyllenhaal most things just for being Donnie Darko.
But the movie is freakin' awful.
It starts off promisingly enough, with some hokum about Gyllenhaal's pauper boy Dastan being saved from poverty by the king. Skip forward to adulthood, and Dastan is charging into battle, slipping into a castle unnoticed to open a rear gate to allow easy access for the rest of the legion.
So far, so medieval, but all too soon the tedium kicks in.
Dastan is betrothed to be married to the beautiful Princess of the defeated city, Tamina, shortly before his father is murdered by a poisoned coat (!), Dastan believed to be the culprit so, with Tamina on his arm they flee, though theirs is not to be a peaceable relationship as she schemes to get her hands on The Dagger that allows time to be set in reverse, then it seems one of his brothers may be behind the murder before the true revelation follows that someone else is the bad guy and they survive a sand storm and they ride a lot on horses and even then on ostrich's and get involved in a punch up with a merchant in the Valley of Slaves and....sweet Jesus, my mind is about to melt.
Seriously, they throw so much at you, both in terms of plot and on screen mayhem that, eventually, you just start to shut it all out, like white noise on a TV screen when you've lost the remote control, your brain blocking the chaos as best it can lest you go blind through madness.
Poorly paced, with no sense of crescendo, instead scenes just follow on from each other, the fight sequences towards the end of the movie no more violent or perilous than those at the beginning and with some of the dodgiest CGI I've seen in a while, this is shallow, vapid and spiritually crippling.
But heh, I knew all that as it's based on a game, what I did not expect was to be bored to miserable tears.
Don't bother.
2 out of 5
Brooklyn's Finest (2009) Dir: Antoine Fuqua
Antoine Fuqua steps into familiar Training Day territory in this multi-layered crime thriller.
The plot runs in three main strands, each following the lives of three very different police officers, all working for the same department.
Cop 1: Tango, an undercover operative working to expose the major drug dealers in Brooklyn, specifically Wesley Snipes' Caz, recently released from jail and looking to pick up where he left off.
Cop 2: Sal, played with typical nervous energy by Hawke, a wiry bundle of anxiety struggling to pay the bills and, with twins on the way, looking for more unconventional revenue streams, happy to take the spoils of drug trafficking before the city big wigs can get their hands on it to refurbish their expensive office suites.
Cop 3: Eddie, burnt out, alcoholic, starting his days with a large shot of whisky just so he can face donning the uniform one more time. He's on the brink of retirement (yes, that old chestnut, though it is handled well) and finds dealing with the young upstart cops almost as unbearable as the low life criminals he is compelled to endure.
With a grim inevitability, as their lives spiral out of control, the plot strands fuse together, though in an unexpected and pretty original fashion, as the movie culminates in three separate show downs in the same building.
The acting from all parties is excellent, with Gere the stand out in terms of performance, which surprised the hell out of me.
Ethan Hawke is always watchable, and Cheadle was more than acceptable, too.
The director shows flashes of genuine flair (the camera drawback through the building towards the end is exceptionally well done) and the writing is solid too, with believable characters fleshed out with some snappy dialogue, all posturing masculinity and Alpha Male banter.
It's a fairly lengthy film, clocking in just over the two hour mark, but not once did I feel the need to look at my watch or wonder how much longer was left, so it never flags.
With a truly astonishing denouement that just runs and runs, this is quality movie making.
Very good indeed.
4 out of 5.
The plot runs in three main strands, each following the lives of three very different police officers, all working for the same department.
Cop 1: Tango, an undercover operative working to expose the major drug dealers in Brooklyn, specifically Wesley Snipes' Caz, recently released from jail and looking to pick up where he left off.
Cop 2: Sal, played with typical nervous energy by Hawke, a wiry bundle of anxiety struggling to pay the bills and, with twins on the way, looking for more unconventional revenue streams, happy to take the spoils of drug trafficking before the city big wigs can get their hands on it to refurbish their expensive office suites.
Cop 3: Eddie, burnt out, alcoholic, starting his days with a large shot of whisky just so he can face donning the uniform one more time. He's on the brink of retirement (yes, that old chestnut, though it is handled well) and finds dealing with the young upstart cops almost as unbearable as the low life criminals he is compelled to endure.
With a grim inevitability, as their lives spiral out of control, the plot strands fuse together, though in an unexpected and pretty original fashion, as the movie culminates in three separate show downs in the same building.
The acting from all parties is excellent, with Gere the stand out in terms of performance, which surprised the hell out of me.
Ethan Hawke is always watchable, and Cheadle was more than acceptable, too.
The director shows flashes of genuine flair (the camera drawback through the building towards the end is exceptionally well done) and the writing is solid too, with believable characters fleshed out with some snappy dialogue, all posturing masculinity and Alpha Male banter.
It's a fairly lengthy film, clocking in just over the two hour mark, but not once did I feel the need to look at my watch or wonder how much longer was left, so it never flags.
With a truly astonishing denouement that just runs and runs, this is quality movie making.
Very good indeed.
4 out of 5.
Rosemary's Baby (1968) Dir: Roman Polanski
Creepy and intense, vaguely Ssssatanic cult offering from that most notorious of tabloid baiting perverts, Roman Polanski, this is effectively chilling, though mystifying in its presence in the top 200 movies of all time, at least if those God Fearing Cretins over at IMDB are to be believed.
The plottage: TV and movie star Lothario Guy Woodhouse and his nymph like wife Rosemary move into a new dwelling in New Yoik, planning to embark on a life of unabashed married bliss. All goes well until Guy befriends the odd old neighbours from next door, a deliciously deviant elderly couple who couldn't be more Jewish if you stuck a Menorah up each of their arseholes and called them 'those Goldberg schmucks', soon after which Rosemary experiences a lucid dream involving much chanting, nudity, and beast like apparitions apparently impregnating her before, back in the real world, falling unexpectedly pregnant. Well, nosy neighbour Minnie insists on supplying her with vitamin drinks, and her doctor seems alarmingly unconcerned about the blistering pains she is suffering during her carriage.
Could it be the neighbours are a hideous coven of witches and warlocks and, horror of horror, could it be The AntiChrist himself (bend ye on worthless knee, puny mortals) she carries in her Earthly womb?
Well, could it?
Eh?
Polanksi delivers a supercharged miasma of twitchy, maternal nerves interwoven with some genuinely eerie atmospherics, as well as the occasional line of dialogue to freeze the blood:
"I dreamed someone was raping me. I think it was someone inhuman."
Fantastically unsettling, whether it deserves its repute as one of the best films ever made was a question I still could not answer even as the credits rolled.
Nevertheless, this is pretty damn riveting, so I'm puzzled as to why I find it odd that it's rated so highly.
Heh, maybe I'm a raging Anti-Semite and am yet to figure it out......
The plottage: TV and movie star Lothario Guy Woodhouse and his nymph like wife Rosemary move into a new dwelling in New Yoik, planning to embark on a life of unabashed married bliss. All goes well until Guy befriends the odd old neighbours from next door, a deliciously deviant elderly couple who couldn't be more Jewish if you stuck a Menorah up each of their arseholes and called them 'those Goldberg schmucks', soon after which Rosemary experiences a lucid dream involving much chanting, nudity, and beast like apparitions apparently impregnating her before, back in the real world, falling unexpectedly pregnant. Well, nosy neighbour Minnie insists on supplying her with vitamin drinks, and her doctor seems alarmingly unconcerned about the blistering pains she is suffering during her carriage.
Could it be the neighbours are a hideous coven of witches and warlocks and, horror of horror, could it be The AntiChrist himself (bend ye on worthless knee, puny mortals) she carries in her Earthly womb?
Well, could it?
Eh?
Polanksi delivers a supercharged miasma of twitchy, maternal nerves interwoven with some genuinely eerie atmospherics, as well as the occasional line of dialogue to freeze the blood:
"I dreamed someone was raping me. I think it was someone inhuman."
Fantastically unsettling, whether it deserves its repute as one of the best films ever made was a question I still could not answer even as the credits rolled.
Nevertheless, this is pretty damn riveting, so I'm puzzled as to why I find it odd that it's rated so highly.
Heh, maybe I'm a raging Anti-Semite and am yet to figure it out......
Quatermass 2 (1957) Dir: Val Guest
Hammer's movie version of the BBC sci-fi serial is utterly stunning.
The plot: Professor Quatermass is very annoyed that his initial proposals to colonise the moon have fallen on deaf ears, grumbling and muttering his discontent, but his attention is diverted when a steady stream of meteorites is detected crash landing in rural England, meteorites that seem to occur with monotonous regularity. Heading to investigate, Quatermass discovers the landing site, several meteorites present but, when one is investigated by his companion, it bursts open, spraying noxious gas into his face, blistering instantly. At that moment, a convoy of military sorts arrives, wielding weapons. Talking them down, Quatermass investigates further, discovering a project that bears alarming resemblance to his moon colony scheme, though this time it is alleged the project is to create synthetic food to feed the world.
But, if that is the case, why are they producing huge amounts of ammonia?
And why does it seem there is an alien lifeform inhabiting the domes?
Spooky, with a level of sinister dread that modern sci-fi/horror can only dream of, this is the stuff of nightmares. Yes, the budget is low and, yes, the production values suffer as a result, but this is the product of a fertile imagination and a blatant desire to create something new, something fresh.
Watching it now, it is truly hard to believe that this is a movie made in the 50's, even taking into account the clunky acting style and black and white filming.
It is also worth noting the direct influence the TV show this was based on, as well as the movie version itself, would have on Doctor Who, particularly the early Pertwee era. I'm thinking Spearhead from Space and Ambassadors of Death for those in the know.
As good as anything else Hammer ever produced and, frankly, as a lifelong devotee of both horror and sci-fi, about as good as either genre ever manages, this is creepy and intense viewing that should be more renowned than it is.
Excellent.
5 out of 5
The plot: Professor Quatermass is very annoyed that his initial proposals to colonise the moon have fallen on deaf ears, grumbling and muttering his discontent, but his attention is diverted when a steady stream of meteorites is detected crash landing in rural England, meteorites that seem to occur with monotonous regularity. Heading to investigate, Quatermass discovers the landing site, several meteorites present but, when one is investigated by his companion, it bursts open, spraying noxious gas into his face, blistering instantly. At that moment, a convoy of military sorts arrives, wielding weapons. Talking them down, Quatermass investigates further, discovering a project that bears alarming resemblance to his moon colony scheme, though this time it is alleged the project is to create synthetic food to feed the world.
But, if that is the case, why are they producing huge amounts of ammonia?
And why does it seem there is an alien lifeform inhabiting the domes?
Spooky, with a level of sinister dread that modern sci-fi/horror can only dream of, this is the stuff of nightmares. Yes, the budget is low and, yes, the production values suffer as a result, but this is the product of a fertile imagination and a blatant desire to create something new, something fresh.
Watching it now, it is truly hard to believe that this is a movie made in the 50's, even taking into account the clunky acting style and black and white filming.
It is also worth noting the direct influence the TV show this was based on, as well as the movie version itself, would have on Doctor Who, particularly the early Pertwee era. I'm thinking Spearhead from Space and Ambassadors of Death for those in the know.
As good as anything else Hammer ever produced and, frankly, as a lifelong devotee of both horror and sci-fi, about as good as either genre ever manages, this is creepy and intense viewing that should be more renowned than it is.
Excellent.
5 out of 5
An American Werewolf in London (1981) Dir: John Landis
There are certain moments in life that define an individual; the goal scored to secure your school county champions, that first kiss with the semi-Down Syndrome new girl underneath the tunnel on the way to the chip shop, a bit proud, a bit afraid lest your fellow teachers find out, the first time you realise your genitalia is capable of producing more than that insignificant bead of excitement...
So it was for me with An American Werewolf in London, my first true horror movie experience and one that sent chills down the spine. I recall the fear, recall the absolute dread as the attack took place on the Yorkshire Moors, geographically less than twenty miles away from my very own bedroom at the time, yet loving every minute even though I was obliged to go to bed lest I piss my pants when David's friend Jack appeared, all rotting skin and bloody lacerations.
As horror comedies go, this is the cream of the crop: funny, sick, genre bending and sexy, it really is hard to beat.
Just in case, here's the plot: Two adventurous, young, spunky American sorts are on a hiking holiday through the Yorkshire Moors (God alone knows why) and venture into The Slaughtered Lamb, a pub about as welcoming as the security guards at LAX. They are sent on their way, with mysterious warnings about watching out for the moon and staying on the road when, in the death of night, they hear howling and realise they have drifted far from the road and, horror of horror's, the moon is full. Well, not long until they are attacked, Jack killed outright, David surviving though at a price: he will become a werewolf when next the moon is full.
Wilfully playing with the audience, director Landis clearly a fan of the genre though not afraid to meddle, this is riotously good fun.
With the added bonus of the delicious Jenny Agutter, a storming soundtrack and Oscar winning special effects that stand up even to this day, this is about as good as horror gets.
Simply marvellous.
So it was for me with An American Werewolf in London, my first true horror movie experience and one that sent chills down the spine. I recall the fear, recall the absolute dread as the attack took place on the Yorkshire Moors, geographically less than twenty miles away from my very own bedroom at the time, yet loving every minute even though I was obliged to go to bed lest I piss my pants when David's friend Jack appeared, all rotting skin and bloody lacerations.
As horror comedies go, this is the cream of the crop: funny, sick, genre bending and sexy, it really is hard to beat.
Just in case, here's the plot: Two adventurous, young, spunky American sorts are on a hiking holiday through the Yorkshire Moors (God alone knows why) and venture into The Slaughtered Lamb, a pub about as welcoming as the security guards at LAX. They are sent on their way, with mysterious warnings about watching out for the moon and staying on the road when, in the death of night, they hear howling and realise they have drifted far from the road and, horror of horror's, the moon is full. Well, not long until they are attacked, Jack killed outright, David surviving though at a price: he will become a werewolf when next the moon is full.
Wilfully playing with the audience, director Landis clearly a fan of the genre though not afraid to meddle, this is riotously good fun.
With the added bonus of the delicious Jenny Agutter, a storming soundtrack and Oscar winning special effects that stand up even to this day, this is about as good as horror gets.
Simply marvellous.
Bad Lieutenant (2009) Dir: Werner Herzog
First, let's deal with the obvious:
This bares scant resemblance to Abel Ferrara's shocking, terrifying and truly demented tale of Catholic guilt gone bad. Director Werner Herzog utterly dismisses any connection with the past by removing all of the overt religious themes that made Ferrara's work so astonishing and, in so doing, dilutes most of the films efficacy.
The plot: Nic 'The Stallion' Cage plays Terence McDonagh, a Detective working the streets of New Orleans in the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. He is an addictive sort, using his clout as an officer of the law to fuel his rabid drinking, drug taking and gambling ways, though even he is not immune to danger, which comes in the form of a group of gangsters, eager that he pay back money they believe he 'stole' from them by denying one of their pals the money shot with the prostitute he had hired, Cage's girlfriend, as it happens.
Not only that, his gambling debts have spiralled out of control so his credit is cut off, eliminating one potential avenue to get his hands on the cash.
So what does he do?
Stop-and-searches couples on bogus narcotics charges, forcing them to either hand over their illicit goods or, in one deliciously perverted scene, encouraging the female of the pair to perform a sex act with him whilst the boyfriend looks on.
Can he get the money in time?
Does anyone really care?
And what are all those shots of lizards to do with anything?
Herzog is a director I have read lots about, with 'proper' critics lavishing praise after praise on him though, if this is anything to go by, he's not one for me.
Confusingly stylised and overblown with a ludicrously OTT performance from Cage - seriously, this guy can't act for shit - I'd steer clear if I were you.
2 out of 5. I'm in a good mood.
This bares scant resemblance to Abel Ferrara's shocking, terrifying and truly demented tale of Catholic guilt gone bad. Director Werner Herzog utterly dismisses any connection with the past by removing all of the overt religious themes that made Ferrara's work so astonishing and, in so doing, dilutes most of the films efficacy.
The plot: Nic 'The Stallion' Cage plays Terence McDonagh, a Detective working the streets of New Orleans in the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. He is an addictive sort, using his clout as an officer of the law to fuel his rabid drinking, drug taking and gambling ways, though even he is not immune to danger, which comes in the form of a group of gangsters, eager that he pay back money they believe he 'stole' from them by denying one of their pals the money shot with the prostitute he had hired, Cage's girlfriend, as it happens.
Not only that, his gambling debts have spiralled out of control so his credit is cut off, eliminating one potential avenue to get his hands on the cash.
So what does he do?
Stop-and-searches couples on bogus narcotics charges, forcing them to either hand over their illicit goods or, in one deliciously perverted scene, encouraging the female of the pair to perform a sex act with him whilst the boyfriend looks on.
Can he get the money in time?
Does anyone really care?
And what are all those shots of lizards to do with anything?
Herzog is a director I have read lots about, with 'proper' critics lavishing praise after praise on him though, if this is anything to go by, he's not one for me.
Confusingly stylised and overblown with a ludicrously OTT performance from Cage - seriously, this guy can't act for shit - I'd steer clear if I were you.
2 out of 5. I'm in a good mood.
[Rec] 2 (2010) Dir: Jaume Balagueró & Paco Plaza
Rip roaring sequel to the Spanish exercise in intensity that was [Rec]. Starting immediately after the events of the first movie, here we follow two groups of people, one for the first half of the movie, the other for most of the second, before their lives are inextricably drawn together in a shower of blood and viscera.
Group 1: A small troop of soldiers, armed to the teeth, sent in to find out what happened to the first group sent in during the first film, led by a man who claims to be from the Health Authority, but may not be all that he seems.
Group 2: Three youngsters with a camcorder who, being exuberant, inquisitive sorts, follow a fireman into the infected building by an alternate route, before promptly being sealed in by the police.
Just what is happening to the infected people, and where did the infection come from?
And what use will crucifixes be against the raving dead?
As a direct continuation, this is a real winner - I've always had a soft spot for horror sequels that pick up the action in the immediate aftermath of what went before.
The camera work is exceptional, with magnificent use made of POV shots so that, at times, as the soldiers lead gun first, you really feel as if you are right in there, like all of the best First Person Shooter games.
Whilst I've read complaint that the build up is not as effective as the original, as almost immediately we are plunged in, fear factor set to ten, I think that's missing the point. This is an exercise in endurance, testing the viewers boundaries, seeing how much screaming and feral munching of teeth we can tolerate before fleeing the cinema in actual physical pain.
With a great twist thrown in that I won't even allude to here, as the origins of the infection are drawn out, this is a killer horror movie that only the bravest souls should attempt.
Can't recommend it enough.
5 out of 5
Group 1: A small troop of soldiers, armed to the teeth, sent in to find out what happened to the first group sent in during the first film, led by a man who claims to be from the Health Authority, but may not be all that he seems.
Group 2: Three youngsters with a camcorder who, being exuberant, inquisitive sorts, follow a fireman into the infected building by an alternate route, before promptly being sealed in by the police.
Just what is happening to the infected people, and where did the infection come from?
And what use will crucifixes be against the raving dead?
As a direct continuation, this is a real winner - I've always had a soft spot for horror sequels that pick up the action in the immediate aftermath of what went before.
The camera work is exceptional, with magnificent use made of POV shots so that, at times, as the soldiers lead gun first, you really feel as if you are right in there, like all of the best First Person Shooter games.
Whilst I've read complaint that the build up is not as effective as the original, as almost immediately we are plunged in, fear factor set to ten, I think that's missing the point. This is an exercise in endurance, testing the viewers boundaries, seeing how much screaming and feral munching of teeth we can tolerate before fleeing the cinema in actual physical pain.
With a great twist thrown in that I won't even allude to here, as the origins of the infection are drawn out, this is a killer horror movie that only the bravest souls should attempt.
Can't recommend it enough.
5 out of 5
Robin Hood (2010) Dir: Ridley Scott
What a disappointment.
I wanted to like this movie. I really did.
Though never being particularly interested in the Robin Hood story, even as a child, the very mention of the name brings back painful memories of deathly dull Sunday afternoons, my mother lying on the sofa, inflating over time like a fucking bull frog, stuffing her face full of Liquorice Allsorts as the Enya-bot wailed out the opening sequence to Robin of Sherwood.
I'm haunted by it, shivering a little as I type these words.
Even with all of that, I genuinely hoped to enjoy this new version, not least because of Ridley Scott at the helm, a director I greatly admire, even if I don't always like the movies he makes. For every Alien there's a Hannibal, every Black Hawk Down there's a G.I. Jane.
Know what I mean?
The plot: King Richard is killed waging war in France, a death that leads to the potential for a French invasion, as Britain is left leaderless and rudderless.
Robin Longstride leads a group of men against both the invading French and the treacherous Godfrey, portrayed with genuine zeal by Mark Strong, the shining star in this gloopy, flabby tale.
That's about it for the plot, aside from a crushingly tedious romance angle between Wobin and Marian, that follows the same path as any one of those God awful romantic comedies.
You know how it works: When first they meet she can't stand him, he finds her too cold but, gradually, as they become more acquainted, the frostiness thaws and true love blossoms.
Please, someone, pass me that filleting knife, I want to stab out my own guts.
The plot rambles on, in no great hurry for anything to actually happen, all the action far too mellow, far too restrained, lacking the muscular spectacle of, say, Gladiator, the makers clearly keen to ensure a low enough rating to get the kids in. And it's a shame, as a blood drenched version of the tale could be very interesting indeed.
Special mention must be made of Crowe's accent, which meanders between Wales, Liverpool, Ireland and even Scotland but, crucially, never once settling on The East Midlands, you know, Nottinghamshire, his attempts to sound British a dismal failure.
The Aussie tit.
As a measure of how dull this movie was, I fell asleep for about fifteen minutes and, roughly half an hour from the end, I left the cinema to go and have a fag.
Truthfully.
Disappointingly dull, then.
2 out of 5.
I wanted to like this movie. I really did.
Though never being particularly interested in the Robin Hood story, even as a child, the very mention of the name brings back painful memories of deathly dull Sunday afternoons, my mother lying on the sofa, inflating over time like a fucking bull frog, stuffing her face full of Liquorice Allsorts as the Enya-bot wailed out the opening sequence to Robin of Sherwood.
I'm haunted by it, shivering a little as I type these words.
Even with all of that, I genuinely hoped to enjoy this new version, not least because of Ridley Scott at the helm, a director I greatly admire, even if I don't always like the movies he makes. For every Alien there's a Hannibal, every Black Hawk Down there's a G.I. Jane.
Know what I mean?
The plot: King Richard is killed waging war in France, a death that leads to the potential for a French invasion, as Britain is left leaderless and rudderless.
Robin Longstride leads a group of men against both the invading French and the treacherous Godfrey, portrayed with genuine zeal by Mark Strong, the shining star in this gloopy, flabby tale.
That's about it for the plot, aside from a crushingly tedious romance angle between Wobin and Marian, that follows the same path as any one of those God awful romantic comedies.
You know how it works: When first they meet she can't stand him, he finds her too cold but, gradually, as they become more acquainted, the frostiness thaws and true love blossoms.
Please, someone, pass me that filleting knife, I want to stab out my own guts.
The plot rambles on, in no great hurry for anything to actually happen, all the action far too mellow, far too restrained, lacking the muscular spectacle of, say, Gladiator, the makers clearly keen to ensure a low enough rating to get the kids in. And it's a shame, as a blood drenched version of the tale could be very interesting indeed.
Special mention must be made of Crowe's accent, which meanders between Wales, Liverpool, Ireland and even Scotland but, crucially, never once settling on The East Midlands, you know, Nottinghamshire, his attempts to sound British a dismal failure.
The Aussie tit.
As a measure of how dull this movie was, I fell asleep for about fifteen minutes and, roughly half an hour from the end, I left the cinema to go and have a fag.
Truthfully.
Disappointingly dull, then.
2 out of 5.
Iron Man 2 (2010) Dir: Jon Favreau
The inevitable sequel to the surprisingly popular Iron Man hits the screens, all tangles of flying metal and squirtings of testosterone.
But is it any good?
Well, yes, quite simply.
Though not quite as engaging as the original, it is difficult not to enjoy this comic book romp that achieves something so few effects laden movies do: create characters that you give a damn about.
Robert Downey Jr. has made the role of Stark his own, all brash confidence and abrasive smugness in public, riven by complexities and fears when in private, and even the relationship between Stark and his ever present assistant, Miss Pepper Potts, played by that walking tumour Pwyneth Galtrow, is enjoyable enough as they banter ceaselessly.
Normally about now I would detail the plot but, truthfully, here it isn't necessary as there is next to no plot to speak of. Well, a vengeful Russian played with delightful menace by Mickey Rourke, a man whose face looks as if his skin is actually rejecting the skull beneath it, wants to exact his revenge on Stark for the apparent role of the Stark family in his own fathers death.
He's got Iron Man technology of his own, and he's not afraid to use it, striding through the Monaco Grand Prix, wielding his electro-whips with genuine zeal, slicing Stark's car in two with ease.
That's about it for the plot, besides some guff about Stark becoming increasingly erratic due to prolonged exposure to the technology itself.
Inevitably, the last fifteen minutes or so degenerates into a CGI-fest, but it's well executed, and at least has a sense of geography, so you can see what is happening at all times.
Marvel seem to be spunking forth more hits than misses these days, and here's another that falls into the former category.
Very enjoyable indeed.
4 out of 5
But is it any good?
Well, yes, quite simply.
Though not quite as engaging as the original, it is difficult not to enjoy this comic book romp that achieves something so few effects laden movies do: create characters that you give a damn about.
Robert Downey Jr. has made the role of Stark his own, all brash confidence and abrasive smugness in public, riven by complexities and fears when in private, and even the relationship between Stark and his ever present assistant, Miss Pepper Potts, played by that walking tumour Pwyneth Galtrow, is enjoyable enough as they banter ceaselessly.
Normally about now I would detail the plot but, truthfully, here it isn't necessary as there is next to no plot to speak of. Well, a vengeful Russian played with delightful menace by Mickey Rourke, a man whose face looks as if his skin is actually rejecting the skull beneath it, wants to exact his revenge on Stark for the apparent role of the Stark family in his own fathers death.
He's got Iron Man technology of his own, and he's not afraid to use it, striding through the Monaco Grand Prix, wielding his electro-whips with genuine zeal, slicing Stark's car in two with ease.
That's about it for the plot, besides some guff about Stark becoming increasingly erratic due to prolonged exposure to the technology itself.
Inevitably, the last fifteen minutes or so degenerates into a CGI-fest, but it's well executed, and at least has a sense of geography, so you can see what is happening at all times.
Marvel seem to be spunking forth more hits than misses these days, and here's another that falls into the former category.
Very enjoyable indeed.
4 out of 5
A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010) Dir: Samuel Bayer
Michael Bay's attempt to remake every horror movie of worth from the late seventies, early eighties continues apace with this reinvention of the dream-killer classic.
For those familiar with the original, no description of the plot is necessary, but for the four humans in the Western world who haven't seen it, here's a summary:
[spoiler]Freddy Krueger, a paedophile praying on the kids of Elm Street, is hounded out of town by their angry parents, trapped in a boiler room and burnt to death.
But that's not the end of him.
Oh no.
He returns, a maniac wielding a rather nifty blade fingered glove, to continue his child stalking, only this time in their dreams. For the Elm Streeters, there is only one way to live: Do not fall asleep.[/spoiler]
The updated version has the exact same plot. Indeed, this is a fairly faithful adaptation, with most of the major set-pieces present and correct, as well as some of the character names. Krueger himself looks great, his face a patchwork of scar tissue and gaping holes in his cheeks you can see through, and the actor does a decent enough job with the rather limited material he was given to work with.
So it must be great if it's exactly the same as the source material.
Right?
Wrong.
When producing the movie, Butcher Bay forgot one crucial element, as is his tendency: atmosphere. The 1984 movie has gallons of the stuff, dripping from the screen, whereas here everything is anaemic and feels almost sterile. It's dull, too, to the point that I started thinking about other things about half way through - why the fluff between my toes is black when I only wear pink socks, how long could I survive eating nothing but Haribo Starmix, just exactly what is the meat in crab flavoured sticks? - and only really tuned back in for the Krueger backstory and the odd moment of gristle, and the ending itself is so abrupt you actually think 'Huh? Is that it?'
Whilst not as gut-crunchingly awful as I was expecting, I wouldn't recommend anyone go see it.
Do yourself a favour: Rent / download / steal / borrow the original instead, you'll have way more fun.
3 out of 5
For those familiar with the original, no description of the plot is necessary, but for the four humans in the Western world who haven't seen it, here's a summary:
[spoiler]Freddy Krueger, a paedophile praying on the kids of Elm Street, is hounded out of town by their angry parents, trapped in a boiler room and burnt to death.
But that's not the end of him.
Oh no.
He returns, a maniac wielding a rather nifty blade fingered glove, to continue his child stalking, only this time in their dreams. For the Elm Streeters, there is only one way to live: Do not fall asleep.[/spoiler]
The updated version has the exact same plot. Indeed, this is a fairly faithful adaptation, with most of the major set-pieces present and correct, as well as some of the character names. Krueger himself looks great, his face a patchwork of scar tissue and gaping holes in his cheeks you can see through, and the actor does a decent enough job with the rather limited material he was given to work with.
So it must be great if it's exactly the same as the source material.
Right?
Wrong.
When producing the movie, Butcher Bay forgot one crucial element, as is his tendency: atmosphere. The 1984 movie has gallons of the stuff, dripping from the screen, whereas here everything is anaemic and feels almost sterile. It's dull, too, to the point that I started thinking about other things about half way through - why the fluff between my toes is black when I only wear pink socks, how long could I survive eating nothing but Haribo Starmix, just exactly what is the meat in crab flavoured sticks? - and only really tuned back in for the Krueger backstory and the odd moment of gristle, and the ending itself is so abrupt you actually think 'Huh? Is that it?'
Whilst not as gut-crunchingly awful as I was expecting, I wouldn't recommend anyone go see it.
Do yourself a favour: Rent / download / steal / borrow the original instead, you'll have way more fun.
3 out of 5
The Ghost (2010) Dir: Roman Polanski
Polanski's political thriller is a taut and tense affair.
The plot: Ewan McGregor plays an unnamed ghost writer, working on the memoirs of former UK Prime Minister Adam Lang, replacement for the original ghost who drowned, either through accident or deliberate suicide.
The ghost reads through the manuscript, discovering it to be almost unworkable and decides to start from the beginning, attempting to construct a story that can at least be formed into reasonable prose.
Whilst clearing out his predecessors belongings, he discovers some photographs, along with some cryptic clues that lead him down an investigative path that will have shocking ramifications for the British political system as a whole.
Whilst watching the movie, it is difficult to miss the allusions to real life events, and the real life people that are being portrayed as fiction. Adam Lang is clearly Tony Blair, his wife representing Cherie Blair, and a tangled web is woven around these two most controversial figures.
Hinting at co-operation between the British and American governments that stretches way beyond the famed 'special relationship' between the two countries, this is powerful stuff indeed.
Polanski's direction is stripped to the bone, as is the narrative, with not a scene wasted, not a line of dialogue without cause. I've read many reviews chastising McGregor's English accent and, whilst it does waver on occasion, it seems churlish to belittle a movie for such an insignificant crime.
Old fashioned movie making is the star of the show here, with not a special effect or action sequence in sight, and that's a real breath of fresh air in these CGI laden days, as here the script and the characterisations are allowed to shine.
I saw this in a packed theatre and, it is significant that, for the entire two hour plus duration, not a sound could be heard and not one soul felt the need for a toilet break. as all were gripped by the events playing out on screen.
Whilst plausibility is not something I often claim as a strength in a movie, here it is imperative, as this only serves to add to the impact.
If you want explosions and action set-pieces, I'd steer well clear, but if a crackling atmosphere and tension you could string a guitar with sound appealing, you could do a lot worse.
The plot: Ewan McGregor plays an unnamed ghost writer, working on the memoirs of former UK Prime Minister Adam Lang, replacement for the original ghost who drowned, either through accident or deliberate suicide.
The ghost reads through the manuscript, discovering it to be almost unworkable and decides to start from the beginning, attempting to construct a story that can at least be formed into reasonable prose.
Whilst clearing out his predecessors belongings, he discovers some photographs, along with some cryptic clues that lead him down an investigative path that will have shocking ramifications for the British political system as a whole.
Whilst watching the movie, it is difficult to miss the allusions to real life events, and the real life people that are being portrayed as fiction. Adam Lang is clearly Tony Blair, his wife representing Cherie Blair, and a tangled web is woven around these two most controversial figures.
Hinting at co-operation between the British and American governments that stretches way beyond the famed 'special relationship' between the two countries, this is powerful stuff indeed.
Polanski's direction is stripped to the bone, as is the narrative, with not a scene wasted, not a line of dialogue without cause. I've read many reviews chastising McGregor's English accent and, whilst it does waver on occasion, it seems churlish to belittle a movie for such an insignificant crime.
Old fashioned movie making is the star of the show here, with not a special effect or action sequence in sight, and that's a real breath of fresh air in these CGI laden days, as here the script and the characterisations are allowed to shine.
I saw this in a packed theatre and, it is significant that, for the entire two hour plus duration, not a sound could be heard and not one soul felt the need for a toilet break. as all were gripped by the events playing out on screen.
Whilst plausibility is not something I often claim as a strength in a movie, here it is imperative, as this only serves to add to the impact.
If you want explosions and action set-pieces, I'd steer well clear, but if a crackling atmosphere and tension you could string a guitar with sound appealing, you could do a lot worse.
Centurion (2010) Dir: Neil Marshall
Horror director take on the Sword and Sandals genre.
The plot: Tiring of the rebellion in the Northern most parts of Britain, The Roman Army despatches a 3000 strong legion to rid them of the Pict menace once and for all, by any means necessary. Led by a Pict woman, a tracker called Etain whose tongue was ripped out by her own people, they are led to a place they believe they can ambush the Picts but, it turns out, Etain has fooled them all, leading them instead to be ambushed.
After a devastating encounter, of the original 3000, only 7 remain, and we follow these 7 as they struggle to survive Pict territory and return to the safety of the garrison.
Plot wise, this is a little on the lean side, but the writer/director does a decent job of evoking some sympathy for the characters.
With Marshall at the helm, there are certain things that are guaranteed, and they are present and correct: Beautiful Scottish landscapes, broad humour, coarse language and plenty of blood and guts. Whilst not as blood thirsty as I had expected, there are one or two standout moments when he lets his horror credentials shine through, my personal favourite being the three minute battle montage where every single shot is of a sword jabbing into someone's guts or an arm being severed, a head being lopped or a throat being slit.
I was laughing out loud by the end of the sequence, though no one else in the cinema was.
Weirdo's.
If you are looking for the gravitas of, say, Braveheart, you may be disappointed, but if a bit of testosterone fuelled slicing and dicing by muscular men in battle armour is the stuff that swells your tubes, you may well enjoy it.
3 out of 5.
The plot: Tiring of the rebellion in the Northern most parts of Britain, The Roman Army despatches a 3000 strong legion to rid them of the Pict menace once and for all, by any means necessary. Led by a Pict woman, a tracker called Etain whose tongue was ripped out by her own people, they are led to a place they believe they can ambush the Picts but, it turns out, Etain has fooled them all, leading them instead to be ambushed.
After a devastating encounter, of the original 3000, only 7 remain, and we follow these 7 as they struggle to survive Pict territory and return to the safety of the garrison.
Plot wise, this is a little on the lean side, but the writer/director does a decent job of evoking some sympathy for the characters.
With Marshall at the helm, there are certain things that are guaranteed, and they are present and correct: Beautiful Scottish landscapes, broad humour, coarse language and plenty of blood and guts. Whilst not as blood thirsty as I had expected, there are one or two standout moments when he lets his horror credentials shine through, my personal favourite being the three minute battle montage where every single shot is of a sword jabbing into someone's guts or an arm being severed, a head being lopped or a throat being slit.
I was laughing out loud by the end of the sequence, though no one else in the cinema was.
Weirdo's.
If you are looking for the gravitas of, say, Braveheart, you may be disappointed, but if a bit of testosterone fuelled slicing and dicing by muscular men in battle armour is the stuff that swells your tubes, you may well enjoy it.
3 out of 5.
Repo Men (2010) Dir: Miguel Sapochnik
Sick and twisted sci-fi thriller, just like Grandma used to make.
Jude Law plays Remy, a Repo Man, employed by The Union to repossess their property. Thing is, the property in question just happens to be human internal organs, the reclamation order submitted due to failure of the owner to keep up their monthly payments.
On a recovery mission, Remy has an accident as a piece of equipment malfunctions and, when he wakes up in hospital, he discovers he has himself been fitted with a Union heart.
He's not amused and, vowing not to pay, waits for The Union to come for their property.
Law is effective enough in the lead role and, whilst Forrest Whittaker is certainly a fine actor and plays the part of Remy's partner perfectly adequately, there's something about him I just don't get along with. I think it has to do with the fact he plays so many worthy roles in worthy movies about worthy subjects.
Makes my fucking skin crawl.
Whilst many of the reviews I've read make a point of stressing the gore levels in the movie, I found myself a little underwhelmed by the splatter factor, expecting it to be much more blood thirsty than it was. True, there are plenty of parabolic blood splash moments with throat slittings, stabbings, eye gouges and, of course, vividly depicted organ removal, but it wasn't the blood-drenched nightmare I was hoping for.
I dunno, maybe my threshold for viscera is higher than most.
Visually this is rather interesting, too. Whilst the city exteriors owe the usual debt to Blade Runner, the interiors are squalid and grimy, not all polished white gleam as we expect from sci-fi, giving the movie quite an organic feel at times.
Only one negative aspect to report, that being the woeful choice of music throughout. Listen up, unless you are Tarantino or Scorcese, in the name of all that is deformed don't try to use REAL songs as incidental music, pay some schlub to write a proper score. Here, the choice of songs is so painful it became off-putting at times, which is a shame as all other elements worked well.
Whilst hardly likely to win movie of the year - or movie of the fortnight, for that matter - this was nevertheless an entertaining way to spend nigh on two hours.
Check it out.
Jude Law plays Remy, a Repo Man, employed by The Union to repossess their property. Thing is, the property in question just happens to be human internal organs, the reclamation order submitted due to failure of the owner to keep up their monthly payments.
On a recovery mission, Remy has an accident as a piece of equipment malfunctions and, when he wakes up in hospital, he discovers he has himself been fitted with a Union heart.
He's not amused and, vowing not to pay, waits for The Union to come for their property.
Law is effective enough in the lead role and, whilst Forrest Whittaker is certainly a fine actor and plays the part of Remy's partner perfectly adequately, there's something about him I just don't get along with. I think it has to do with the fact he plays so many worthy roles in worthy movies about worthy subjects.
Makes my fucking skin crawl.
Whilst many of the reviews I've read make a point of stressing the gore levels in the movie, I found myself a little underwhelmed by the splatter factor, expecting it to be much more blood thirsty than it was. True, there are plenty of parabolic blood splash moments with throat slittings, stabbings, eye gouges and, of course, vividly depicted organ removal, but it wasn't the blood-drenched nightmare I was hoping for.
I dunno, maybe my threshold for viscera is higher than most.
Visually this is rather interesting, too. Whilst the city exteriors owe the usual debt to Blade Runner, the interiors are squalid and grimy, not all polished white gleam as we expect from sci-fi, giving the movie quite an organic feel at times.
Only one negative aspect to report, that being the woeful choice of music throughout. Listen up, unless you are Tarantino or Scorcese, in the name of all that is deformed don't try to use REAL songs as incidental music, pay some schlub to write a proper score. Here, the choice of songs is so painful it became off-putting at times, which is a shame as all other elements worked well.
Whilst hardly likely to win movie of the year - or movie of the fortnight, for that matter - this was nevertheless an entertaining way to spend nigh on two hours.
Check it out.
Shinjuku Underworld: Chinese Mafia War (1995) Dir: Takashi Miike
Takashi Miike must be one scary motherfucker, and no mistake.
The plot, or as much as I could glean:
A morally bankrupt detective in Shinjuku, the 'place to be' in Tokyo apparently, is assigned to watch over a new Triad gang muscling into the territory and prevent a full scale Mafia war erupting. When the boss of the new Triad employs the brother of said detective to act as his lawyer, things can only get personal.
And blood will surely flow.
That's about all I could work out in this confusing, ultra-violent though ultimately entertaining tale of Japanese mob culture.
No surprises with Miike at the helm that pretty much every taboo you can name is tackled here, with nerry a flinch from behind the directorial lens: anal male rape to coerce confessions, throat slashings, rent boys, vaginal cavity searches, blow jobs in public toilets and more violence than you could wave a medieval mace at make this one not for the weak of stomach.
And this is proper violence, kids, not that sanitised, Hollywood fetish version that we were brainwashed with in the eighties and nineties from American efforts.
This looks like it hurts.
A lot.
Whilst not as accomplished as some of his later work - Audition and Ichi the killer being two firm favourites when we have the grand kids over in this house - this is still dizzyingly engaging, though there is the suspicion that you are watching against your better judgement, trying to look away but too morbidly curious to actually manage it.
If you want intensity, can cope with subtitles (yes, I'm looking at you Thick McThick of Thicksbury Avenue) and aren't averse to sampling the cinematic offerings of radically different cultures, this should be right up your dirty pipes.
4 out of 5
The plot, or as much as I could glean:
A morally bankrupt detective in Shinjuku, the 'place to be' in Tokyo apparently, is assigned to watch over a new Triad gang muscling into the territory and prevent a full scale Mafia war erupting. When the boss of the new Triad employs the brother of said detective to act as his lawyer, things can only get personal.
And blood will surely flow.
That's about all I could work out in this confusing, ultra-violent though ultimately entertaining tale of Japanese mob culture.
No surprises with Miike at the helm that pretty much every taboo you can name is tackled here, with nerry a flinch from behind the directorial lens: anal male rape to coerce confessions, throat slashings, rent boys, vaginal cavity searches, blow jobs in public toilets and more violence than you could wave a medieval mace at make this one not for the weak of stomach.
And this is proper violence, kids, not that sanitised, Hollywood fetish version that we were brainwashed with in the eighties and nineties from American efforts.
This looks like it hurts.
A lot.
Whilst not as accomplished as some of his later work - Audition and Ichi the killer being two firm favourites when we have the grand kids over in this house - this is still dizzyingly engaging, though there is the suspicion that you are watching against your better judgement, trying to look away but too morbidly curious to actually manage it.
If you want intensity, can cope with subtitles (yes, I'm looking at you Thick McThick of Thicksbury Avenue) and aren't averse to sampling the cinematic offerings of radically different cultures, this should be right up your dirty pipes.
4 out of 5
Shelter (2010) Dir: Måns Mårlind & Björn Stein
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Clash of the Titans (2010) Dir: Louis Leterrier
Remaking a claymation, stop-motion classic probably seemed like a good idea at the time.
Perseus, son of Zeus, a demigod, born of woman from the seed of a God, witnesses the Gods wrath as his human family is killed by Hades himself. Swearing vengeance on Hades, Perseus joins forces with a legion of soldiers to journey to see three witches, for only they know how to defeat The Kraken, a mighty beast set to be released ten days hence, upon the moment of the eclipse of the sun.
Only one thing will satisfy the Gods, angered by mankind turning their backs on them: the blood of Andromeda as a sacrifice, penance for her mother daring to compare her daughters beauty to that of the Gods themselves.
So far, so plausible.
Along the way, Perseus and his legion encounter giant scorpions, Djinn, flying horses (The Pegasus, it seems, is the name of the species, not the name of just one of the beasts as I had believed) as well as having to head down to The Underworld to tackle that most famous of Gorgon's, Zola...sorry, Medusa.
Bad joke, I know. What's that? What was that? Fuck you, too.
So, essentially a revenge movie with big nasty beasties thrown in.
Sam Worthington is pretty monosyllabic as the hunk of beef leading man, nor do any of the other characters fare any better, the script being lumpen at best.
But you didn't go into Clash of the Titans for the script, now did you?
Did you?
You buffoon.
No, of course you didn't, for this is all about the effects and they are more than serviceable though, even here, there are flaws, with the camera work feeling clumsy and awkward at times so that, occasionally, you don't have the slightest clue what is actually happening. This is especially true of the scorpion fight scene where you have no idea as to the geography of the battle, nor how many of the giant critters they are fighting.
Truthfully, I need to rewatch the original movie as I haven't seen it since I were a bairn but, if memory serves, it was certainly superior to this decidedly average effort.
Disappointing.
Oh, incidentally, I watched the 2D version as I have heard from multiple sources that the retro-fitted 3D is atrocious, not that I can see it anyway with me wonky eyes....
Perseus, son of Zeus, a demigod, born of woman from the seed of a God, witnesses the Gods wrath as his human family is killed by Hades himself. Swearing vengeance on Hades, Perseus joins forces with a legion of soldiers to journey to see three witches, for only they know how to defeat The Kraken, a mighty beast set to be released ten days hence, upon the moment of the eclipse of the sun.
Only one thing will satisfy the Gods, angered by mankind turning their backs on them: the blood of Andromeda as a sacrifice, penance for her mother daring to compare her daughters beauty to that of the Gods themselves.
So far, so plausible.
Along the way, Perseus and his legion encounter giant scorpions, Djinn, flying horses (The Pegasus, it seems, is the name of the species, not the name of just one of the beasts as I had believed) as well as having to head down to The Underworld to tackle that most famous of Gorgon's, Zola...sorry, Medusa.
Bad joke, I know. What's that? What was that? Fuck you, too.
So, essentially a revenge movie with big nasty beasties thrown in.
Sam Worthington is pretty monosyllabic as the hunk of beef leading man, nor do any of the other characters fare any better, the script being lumpen at best.
But you didn't go into Clash of the Titans for the script, now did you?
Did you?
You buffoon.
No, of course you didn't, for this is all about the effects and they are more than serviceable though, even here, there are flaws, with the camera work feeling clumsy and awkward at times so that, occasionally, you don't have the slightest clue what is actually happening. This is especially true of the scorpion fight scene where you have no idea as to the geography of the battle, nor how many of the giant critters they are fighting.
Truthfully, I need to rewatch the original movie as I haven't seen it since I were a bairn but, if memory serves, it was certainly superior to this decidedly average effort.
Disappointing.
Oh, incidentally, I watched the 2D version as I have heard from multiple sources that the retro-fitted 3D is atrocious, not that I can see it anyway with me wonky eyes....
Kick-Ass (2010) Dir: Matthew Vaughn
A surprising and effective inversion of the superhero genre, which has moments to genuinely shock.
Dave Lizewski is your average adolescent. He's into comics, thinks his only superpower is being invisible to girls and has two equally dweeby mates.
One day an idea dawns on him.
Why couldn't he be a superhero all of his own?
OK, he's got no superpowers, but he can knock up a nifty costume so he duly sets out to fight crime wherever he sees it. Trouble is, his first encounter with the criminal fraternity ends badly.
Very badly.
A knife wound to the stomach and a hit and run, landing him in hospital. But that doesn't stop him, and it's not long before his alter ego, Kick-Ass, has become a viral Internet phenomena, bringing him to the attention of father and daughter superhero team Big Daddy and Hit Girl.
A run in with a mobster, a father hell bent on vengeance and more brutal violence than you can shake a nailgun at completes the tale.
A friend of mine described me recently as the least shockable person he knows, which I took as a compliment whether it was meant or not, yet this movie contains two or three moments to genuinely drop the jaw. It's 2010, yet hearing a 12 year old girl say 'I'm just fucking with you, Daddy,' still seems 'wrong' somehow, and the movie is all the better for it. In fact, all the standout, Daily Mail baiting, 'moral guardian' outraging moments revolve around the youngster; her foul mouth - she even gets to use the C word - the fetish gear she wears throughout, blatantly sexualising her, her sprees of wanton violence.
And it's all highly entertaining.
Special mention must be made of the script, which plays with you as a viewer, leading you down blind alleys before snapping you back to reality sharply which, in many ways, reminded me of Haneke's original Funny Games from way back when.
Anyone with an interest in comic book movies or cult movies in general should check this one out but I'd hurry if I were you. In the theatre I saw it in there was just me, my good lady and perhaps fifteen other souls so it won't be around for long.
A hidden gem.
Dave Lizewski is your average adolescent. He's into comics, thinks his only superpower is being invisible to girls and has two equally dweeby mates.
One day an idea dawns on him.
Why couldn't he be a superhero all of his own?
OK, he's got no superpowers, but he can knock up a nifty costume so he duly sets out to fight crime wherever he sees it. Trouble is, his first encounter with the criminal fraternity ends badly.
Very badly.
A knife wound to the stomach and a hit and run, landing him in hospital. But that doesn't stop him, and it's not long before his alter ego, Kick-Ass, has become a viral Internet phenomena, bringing him to the attention of father and daughter superhero team Big Daddy and Hit Girl.
A run in with a mobster, a father hell bent on vengeance and more brutal violence than you can shake a nailgun at completes the tale.
A friend of mine described me recently as the least shockable person he knows, which I took as a compliment whether it was meant or not, yet this movie contains two or three moments to genuinely drop the jaw. It's 2010, yet hearing a 12 year old girl say 'I'm just fucking with you, Daddy,' still seems 'wrong' somehow, and the movie is all the better for it. In fact, all the standout, Daily Mail baiting, 'moral guardian' outraging moments revolve around the youngster; her foul mouth - she even gets to use the C word - the fetish gear she wears throughout, blatantly sexualising her, her sprees of wanton violence.
And it's all highly entertaining.
Special mention must be made of the script, which plays with you as a viewer, leading you down blind alleys before snapping you back to reality sharply which, in many ways, reminded me of Haneke's original Funny Games from way back when.
Anyone with an interest in comic book movies or cult movies in general should check this one out but I'd hurry if I were you. In the theatre I saw it in there was just me, my good lady and perhaps fifteen other souls so it won't be around for long.
A hidden gem.
Interview with the Vampire (1994) Dir: Neil Jordan
You know, I saw this movie at the cinema when it first came out and hated it with a passion. At the time, I was something of a bloodfiend, with only the goriest or most shockingly violent movies even raising a glimmer of interest. As time passes, however, we temper our views and mellow, becoming more moderate in our disposition and more capable of being entertained by such things as atmosphere and script.
So how would I view this movie, some sixteen years later?
Well, you know what, you could blow me down with a blast of thermox, I really bloody enjoyed it.
Whilst the setup itself is somewhat annoying - the whole 'interview thang' with Slistian Chrater and Pad Britt - the movie itself is never less than engaging, with a well polished script and impressive stylings.
Visually, this is sumptuous and warm, drawing you into the on screen interplay between the characters, whilst the plot itself is a broiling fondue of bloodletting and romance, all held together by solid performances from three impressive leading men.
That's what I was thinking.
Then I looked down at myself and realised I had a cock swinging between my legs and spotted an absolute absence of heaving bosom.
Honestly, folks, this is mind-crushing pap aimed squarely at two sections of society: hormonal tweenage girls and hormonal, perhaps menopausal middle aged women who dream of squeezing Pad Britt's fully engorged length into their cock starved pussies.
And there's nothing wrong with that, in all honesty, just don't dress it up as horror.
Don't introduce it as horror on the reruns on ITV4.
Don't even mention the word horror when describing it.
It ain't horror.
It's pretty boys in period costumes and wigs, which is all well and good but, seriously, if you are a horror fan and think that this is even remotely tolerable, you need to get down HMV tomorrow and buy the entire back catalogue of Shirley Bassey post haste.
I have a funny feeling you'd like that as well.....
So how would I view this movie, some sixteen years later?
Well, you know what, you could blow me down with a blast of thermox, I really bloody enjoyed it.
Whilst the setup itself is somewhat annoying - the whole 'interview thang' with Slistian Chrater and Pad Britt - the movie itself is never less than engaging, with a well polished script and impressive stylings.
Visually, this is sumptuous and warm, drawing you into the on screen interplay between the characters, whilst the plot itself is a broiling fondue of bloodletting and romance, all held together by solid performances from three impressive leading men.
That's what I was thinking.
Then I looked down at myself and realised I had a cock swinging between my legs and spotted an absolute absence of heaving bosom.
Honestly, folks, this is mind-crushing pap aimed squarely at two sections of society: hormonal tweenage girls and hormonal, perhaps menopausal middle aged women who dream of squeezing Pad Britt's fully engorged length into their cock starved pussies.
And there's nothing wrong with that, in all honesty, just don't dress it up as horror.
Don't introduce it as horror on the reruns on ITV4.
Don't even mention the word horror when describing it.
It ain't horror.
It's pretty boys in period costumes and wigs, which is all well and good but, seriously, if you are a horror fan and think that this is even remotely tolerable, you need to get down HMV tomorrow and buy the entire back catalogue of Shirley Bassey post haste.
I have a funny feeling you'd like that as well.....
The Core (2003) Dir: Jon Amiel
Wen naktural disastars are geting moor and moor offten, clevar sientists work owt vat somefing mite be gowing on an send a speshul kind of spaseship into the grownd to do somefing unusewel to the caw of the planit so vat we can be abel to be alive and stuff and on ve way sum of the peepol on ve speshul craft get kild and get smashd and get crushd and make it into the hole in the miggle and get the stuf thair moving agen so all the peeple are happey.
Ve end.
Ve end.
Volcano (1997) Dir: Mick Jackson
Sometimes I get really depressed when I read comments made by the general public about movies.
I'm not talking about movie critics here, I'm on about the normal nobody bods such as myself who have a passion for movies and feel the almost unnnatural urge to spout their views about them, as if anybody actually gives a shit. I'm in their demograph yet sometimes I feel as if I know them not at all.
The reason for my griping?
Reading endless comments about how this movie was just about the 'special effects' or just about the melodrama, or there was too much focus on the human side of the tragedy unfolding on screen.
What do these fucknuts expect?
It's a disaster movie. That's what happens in disaster movies. It's like choosing to watch a martial arts flick and bleating about the men being too rough, or watching a porno and complaining about the nudity. It goes with the territory, you insufferable swellings.
*and relax*
Well, here we have Tommy Lee Jones leading the battle to spare as many lives as possible when a natural catastrophe strikes Los Angeles in the form of a volcano erupting beneath MacArthur Park.
That's all you need to know.
Honest.
Cue the usual highly fraught scenes of women and children, the ubiquitous 'pet in peril', as well as a less than subtle racial take on things, as blacks and whites are compelled to join forces to do battle against a new, colour blind foe: lava.
It's preposterous.
Of course it is.
But it's held together by the two leads and the fact that broiling lava is always an impressive visual spectacle. In truth, this is a 3 out of 5 rating, but the very presence of Tommy Lee Jones elevates it by one point. Seriously, he could tell me that I had cancer in every part of my body and I would still be entertained and more than a little aroused.
A disaster flick for the 90's, then, and more than adequate at that.
I'm not talking about movie critics here, I'm on about the normal nobody bods such as myself who have a passion for movies and feel the almost unnnatural urge to spout their views about them, as if anybody actually gives a shit. I'm in their demograph yet sometimes I feel as if I know them not at all.
The reason for my griping?
Reading endless comments about how this movie was just about the 'special effects' or just about the melodrama, or there was too much focus on the human side of the tragedy unfolding on screen.
What do these fucknuts expect?
It's a disaster movie. That's what happens in disaster movies. It's like choosing to watch a martial arts flick and bleating about the men being too rough, or watching a porno and complaining about the nudity. It goes with the territory, you insufferable swellings.
*and relax*
Well, here we have Tommy Lee Jones leading the battle to spare as many lives as possible when a natural catastrophe strikes Los Angeles in the form of a volcano erupting beneath MacArthur Park.
That's all you need to know.
Honest.
Cue the usual highly fraught scenes of women and children, the ubiquitous 'pet in peril', as well as a less than subtle racial take on things, as blacks and whites are compelled to join forces to do battle against a new, colour blind foe: lava.
It's preposterous.
Of course it is.
But it's held together by the two leads and the fact that broiling lava is always an impressive visual spectacle. In truth, this is a 3 out of 5 rating, but the very presence of Tommy Lee Jones elevates it by one point. Seriously, he could tell me that I had cancer in every part of my body and I would still be entertained and more than a little aroused.
A disaster flick for the 90's, then, and more than adequate at that.
The Howling (1981) Dir: Joe Dante
Highly regarded cult classic that doesn’t really stand up to scrutiny.
Joe 'Gremlins' Dante's stab at a werewolf movie is a confusing affair. In every regard, this should work.
It's smart: smarter than your average horror movie, and that's a fact. 12 out of every 9 psychologists confirm it.
The effects are great.
Dated?
Yes but, unless you are the kind of slack-jawed dimwit who believes that 'there wor any gud filums mayd befour ninekeen nineky free' that shouldn't be an issue as, you know, special effects were possible before the advent of CG fucking I.
There's a decent line-up of cult luminaries, including Dee 'Critters' Wallace, Patrick 'Avengers' Macnee and Robert 'Voyager' Picardo.
The story is above par, too. Yet, somehow.....some....how, it doesn't hang together particularly well, and you find your mind wandering off, thinking about other things.
How many olives can you fit into your mouth in one go?
If Macnee were wheelchair bound, would he have still worn a bowler hat in The Avengers?
All sorts of things that are nothing to do with the movie.
I've already touched on them, but another mention must go to the special effects, which are truly outstanding, and acted as precursor to the Oscar winning effects from An American Werewolf in London later that same year. The effects alone elevated this by one skull rating, else this would have hit a 2 for me.
I know, I know, fellow cultists, I am an unmentionable arse-sheriff, but there it is.
Disappointingly average horror fodder, then, despite the promise of its component parts.
Joe 'Gremlins' Dante's stab at a werewolf movie is a confusing affair. In every regard, this should work.
It's smart: smarter than your average horror movie, and that's a fact. 12 out of every 9 psychologists confirm it.
The effects are great.
Dated?
Yes but, unless you are the kind of slack-jawed dimwit who believes that 'there wor any gud filums mayd befour ninekeen nineky free' that shouldn't be an issue as, you know, special effects were possible before the advent of CG fucking I.
There's a decent line-up of cult luminaries, including Dee 'Critters' Wallace, Patrick 'Avengers' Macnee and Robert 'Voyager' Picardo.
The story is above par, too. Yet, somehow.....some....how, it doesn't hang together particularly well, and you find your mind wandering off, thinking about other things.
How many olives can you fit into your mouth in one go?
If Macnee were wheelchair bound, would he have still worn a bowler hat in The Avengers?
All sorts of things that are nothing to do with the movie.
I've already touched on them, but another mention must go to the special effects, which are truly outstanding, and acted as precursor to the Oscar winning effects from An American Werewolf in London later that same year. The effects alone elevated this by one skull rating, else this would have hit a 2 for me.
I know, I know, fellow cultists, I am an unmentionable arse-sheriff, but there it is.
Disappointingly average horror fodder, then, despite the promise of its component parts.
Tales from the Darkside: The Movie (1990) Dir: John Harrison
Christ, I love horror anthology movies.
Something about the format just really, really works. The short running
time of each tale seems to focus the mind of the writer, compelling
them to shed unwanted fat and hone efficiently chilling tales of gore
and ghouls more regularly than their full length movie counterparts.
Three tales, here, with an additional throwaway 'wraparound' tale to
bind them all together:
Wraparound: Debbie 'Blondie' Harry plays a witch who intends to cook a
child in a large oven, and makes the necessary preparations, lining a
large baking tray with aluminium foil and setting the gas mark to
'human flesh.' Well, the kid is no idle dimwit, and sets about delaying
his death by telling her creepy stories from a large tome.
Tale 1: Steve Buscemi reanimates a 3000 year old Mummy. A veritable
array of stars here, as Christian Slater, the aforementioned Buscemi
and Julianne Moore all get to creep it up with a long deceased
Egyptian. Pretty spooky, pretty funny, in the blackest sense of the
word, this is a good opener.
Tale 2: A wealthy old man hires a hit-man to kill a cat. Written by
Romero and based on a Stephen King short story, expect plenty of
darkness, and it's delivered in spades, the standout moment being a cat
forcing itself down a grown mans throat.
Tale 3: An evil gargoyle spares a mans life, on the condition that he
never speak of the incident. Easier said than done. Another good tale,
and a solid closer to the anthology.
With gore, genuine scares and solid script writing, this is a cut above
most horror, and is recommended to all.
Something about the format just really, really works. The short running
time of each tale seems to focus the mind of the writer, compelling
them to shed unwanted fat and hone efficiently chilling tales of gore
and ghouls more regularly than their full length movie counterparts.
Three tales, here, with an additional throwaway 'wraparound' tale to
bind them all together:
Wraparound: Debbie 'Blondie' Harry plays a witch who intends to cook a
child in a large oven, and makes the necessary preparations, lining a
large baking tray with aluminium foil and setting the gas mark to
'human flesh.' Well, the kid is no idle dimwit, and sets about delaying
his death by telling her creepy stories from a large tome.
Tale 1: Steve Buscemi reanimates a 3000 year old Mummy. A veritable
array of stars here, as Christian Slater, the aforementioned Buscemi
and Julianne Moore all get to creep it up with a long deceased
Egyptian. Pretty spooky, pretty funny, in the blackest sense of the
word, this is a good opener.
Tale 2: A wealthy old man hires a hit-man to kill a cat. Written by
Romero and based on a Stephen King short story, expect plenty of
darkness, and it's delivered in spades, the standout moment being a cat
forcing itself down a grown mans throat.
Tale 3: An evil gargoyle spares a mans life, on the condition that he
never speak of the incident. Easier said than done. Another good tale,
and a solid closer to the anthology.
With gore, genuine scares and solid script writing, this is a cut above
most horror, and is recommended to all.
The Wicker Man (2006) Dir. Neil LaBute
Jesus suffering buggery, this is so mind-crushingly appalling I very nearly hurt myself.
I was watching this travesty whilst eating a plate of pasta, and had to fight the almost overpowering urge to jab the fork I was using into the delicate tissues of my eyeballs, to spare me the trauma of the movie.
Well, against the odds I managed to resist, if only to allow me to write this review as a warning to others.
Under no circumstances watch this movie. Ever.
No matter the temptation, no matter the curiosity aroused by the majesty of the source material, no matter that cynic in your head assuring you that, despite what everyone else says, it can't be that bad.
It is that bad, and so much more besides.
The most incredible part is that the bare bones of the story remain in tact, as Nicholas Cage (I'll get on to him shortly) goes to a remote island known as Summerslsle (sic) to investigate the apparent disappearance of one of the island's children, Rowan. What he discovers upon arrival is an isolated community practising Pagan rituals, and locals who are none too cooperative with his investigation.
Some scenes even survive all but intact: the arrival by water plane, the announcement in the pub, the unusual teachings in class, but there any similarities cease.
Nicholas Cage is reputed to have recommended this remake, so affected was he by the original, so it is astounding that he and the director should choose to strip all of the things that made the original such a masterpiece.
The most glaring and shameful omission is the soundtrack, with LaBute alleged to have stated that he would not want anyone who likes the original soundtrack to watch his movie, anyway.
What an insufferable arsehole.
Gone too is the British location, as well as the concept of temptation, as Cage's Edward Malus has no Christian values to defend. The whole point of the original is that Woodward's character is a devout man and, by resisting the pleasures of the flesh presented in the form of Britt Ekland, he proves himself to be truly righteous.
Such subtleties are dispensed with here.
And as for Nic Cage, this is a performance so lacklustre you genuinely question whether this could truly be a professional actor. For a man who gets paid rather handsomely for his services, his abilities seem to be draining away with every passing year.
It's been a while since a movie angered me so - you have to go back to Transformers for that - so do yourself a favour:
Avoid this like the fucking plague.
I was watching this travesty whilst eating a plate of pasta, and had to fight the almost overpowering urge to jab the fork I was using into the delicate tissues of my eyeballs, to spare me the trauma of the movie.
Well, against the odds I managed to resist, if only to allow me to write this review as a warning to others.
Under no circumstances watch this movie. Ever.
No matter the temptation, no matter the curiosity aroused by the majesty of the source material, no matter that cynic in your head assuring you that, despite what everyone else says, it can't be that bad.
It is that bad, and so much more besides.
The most incredible part is that the bare bones of the story remain in tact, as Nicholas Cage (I'll get on to him shortly) goes to a remote island known as Summerslsle (sic) to investigate the apparent disappearance of one of the island's children, Rowan. What he discovers upon arrival is an isolated community practising Pagan rituals, and locals who are none too cooperative with his investigation.
Some scenes even survive all but intact: the arrival by water plane, the announcement in the pub, the unusual teachings in class, but there any similarities cease.
Nicholas Cage is reputed to have recommended this remake, so affected was he by the original, so it is astounding that he and the director should choose to strip all of the things that made the original such a masterpiece.
The most glaring and shameful omission is the soundtrack, with LaBute alleged to have stated that he would not want anyone who likes the original soundtrack to watch his movie, anyway.
What an insufferable arsehole.
Gone too is the British location, as well as the concept of temptation, as Cage's Edward Malus has no Christian values to defend. The whole point of the original is that Woodward's character is a devout man and, by resisting the pleasures of the flesh presented in the form of Britt Ekland, he proves himself to be truly righteous.
Such subtleties are dispensed with here.
And as for Nic Cage, this is a performance so lacklustre you genuinely question whether this could truly be a professional actor. For a man who gets paid rather handsomely for his services, his abilities seem to be draining away with every passing year.
It's been a while since a movie angered me so - you have to go back to Transformers for that - so do yourself a favour:
Avoid this like the fucking plague.
Dr. Moreau's House of Pain (2004) Dir: Charles Band
You know, I had a dream a while back in which I opined the paucity of
movies featuring bare breasts and half human, half pig hybrids. "Why oh
why oh why," I cried, "Can we not see more breasts and pig men?" Well,
fear not my fellow brutarians, Dr Moreau is here to answer all of our
prayers.
Directed by Charles Band, he of low budget horror legend status,
unhealthy obsessed by killer doll movies (Blood Dolls, Puppet Master,
Dollman vs. Demonic Toys) here he takes a stab at the film noir genre,
bringing us a tale of human / animal experimentation in Prohibition era
America.
All the noir trappings are there: smoky streets, illuminated only by
atmospheric streetlamps, wiseguys in brimmed hats, broads in fur coats
and shawls with cigarette holders stuck between their well rouged lips,
and automobiles relevant to the period and, it must be stressed, for a
low budget movie he does a remarkable job of 'placing' the movie.
Whilst the plot is a fairly silly one, involving a young man searching
for his brother who went to Dr. Moreau for treatment and was
transformed into half man, half big cat, the trappings surrounding it
work very well.
Whilst hardly Orwellian, the script is nevertheless effective enough,
and the acting more than passable.
So, if you, like me, find yourself yearning for those hybrids anytime
soon, you could do worse than check this out
movies featuring bare breasts and half human, half pig hybrids. "Why oh
why oh why," I cried, "Can we not see more breasts and pig men?" Well,
fear not my fellow brutarians, Dr Moreau is here to answer all of our
prayers.
Directed by Charles Band, he of low budget horror legend status,
unhealthy obsessed by killer doll movies (Blood Dolls, Puppet Master,
Dollman vs. Demonic Toys) here he takes a stab at the film noir genre,
bringing us a tale of human / animal experimentation in Prohibition era
America.
All the noir trappings are there: smoky streets, illuminated only by
atmospheric streetlamps, wiseguys in brimmed hats, broads in fur coats
and shawls with cigarette holders stuck between their well rouged lips,
and automobiles relevant to the period and, it must be stressed, for a
low budget movie he does a remarkable job of 'placing' the movie.
Whilst the plot is a fairly silly one, involving a young man searching
for his brother who went to Dr. Moreau for treatment and was
transformed into half man, half big cat, the trappings surrounding it
work very well.
Whilst hardly Orwellian, the script is nevertheless effective enough,
and the acting more than passable.
So, if you, like me, find yourself yearning for those hybrids anytime
soon, you could do worse than check this out
War of the Worlds 2: The Next Wave (2008) Dir. C. Thomas Howell
First off, let's start with a given:
Anyone so shit rippingly stupid as to actually compare this micro-budget fiasco with the Spielberg behemoth needs to have scorpions dangled into their eyeballs.
For a long, long time.
This is a movie brought to us by the magnificently awful The Asylum production house, most of whose output is a direct cash-in on other major Hollywood releases; Transmorphers, The Day the Earth Stopped, The Da Vinci Treasure etc.
Written by, directed by, starring in, driven to the multiplex by, hawked on street corners by the wonderfully excitable and relentlessly twitchy C. Thomas Howell (he's been in real shows you know; 24, Coronation Street, ER, The Big Fat Lie) the story here picks up 2 years after the cataclysmic events of the big budget elder brother. The Martians are gone, wiped out by the microbes that so handily came to humanity's rescue, but Howell's George Herbert is none too convinced, and constantly monitors 'channels' to keep an ear out for any "ULLAH!" from outer space.
As luck would have it, it's not long before The Walkers are back and, within the blink of an eye, one of the mighty robotic tripods has swept our hero's son away, providing him with the mission required for the movie to continue.
Oh, thrown into the mix is some guff about time / space portals, a faux Earth fashioned by The Martians to fool our heroes, and a nice line in organic spacecraft interiors fashioned via the medium of pink blankets covered in clingfilm, and you've got the general idea.
Cheap as chutney, but to be admired for the sheer audacity of the rip-off, as well as the film-makers clear ambition (we can't afford to make it, but by The Christ's we're going to make it anyway), I say ignore the naysayers and check this out sci-fi geeks.
You might just enjoy it as much as I did.
Anyone so shit rippingly stupid as to actually compare this micro-budget fiasco with the Spielberg behemoth needs to have scorpions dangled into their eyeballs.
For a long, long time.
This is a movie brought to us by the magnificently awful The Asylum production house, most of whose output is a direct cash-in on other major Hollywood releases; Transmorphers, The Day the Earth Stopped, The Da Vinci Treasure etc.
Written by, directed by, starring in, driven to the multiplex by, hawked on street corners by the wonderfully excitable and relentlessly twitchy C. Thomas Howell (he's been in real shows you know; 24, Coronation Street, ER, The Big Fat Lie) the story here picks up 2 years after the cataclysmic events of the big budget elder brother. The Martians are gone, wiped out by the microbes that so handily came to humanity's rescue, but Howell's George Herbert is none too convinced, and constantly monitors 'channels' to keep an ear out for any "ULLAH!" from outer space.
As luck would have it, it's not long before The Walkers are back and, within the blink of an eye, one of the mighty robotic tripods has swept our hero's son away, providing him with the mission required for the movie to continue.
Oh, thrown into the mix is some guff about time / space portals, a faux Earth fashioned by The Martians to fool our heroes, and a nice line in organic spacecraft interiors fashioned via the medium of pink blankets covered in clingfilm, and you've got the general idea.
Cheap as chutney, but to be admired for the sheer audacity of the rip-off, as well as the film-makers clear ambition (we can't afford to make it, but by The Christ's we're going to make it anyway), I say ignore the naysayers and check this out sci-fi geeks.
You might just enjoy it as much as I did.
Æon Flux (2005) Dir: Karyn Kusama
Well, that was pretty tame and tedious.
And it's a shame as, at its core, there are some really good ideas, but the execution really let this one down.
It's 2415, and humanity has been all but eradicated by a virus some 400 years ago. Only one city remains, Bregna, a walled city governed by the Goodchild dynasty, led by one Trevor Goodchild, descendant of the man who found the cure for the virus on the brink of humankind's extinction.
Charlize Theron plays Aeon Flux (I'm not making this up), an assassin working for a group who called themselves The Monicans, rebels against the ruling regime. Aeon is sent to kill Trevor but, when her own sister is killed, her loyalties seem to change.
With an unusual visual style that borrows partly from The Matrix, partly from, perhaps, Minority Report, the visual confusion perhaps reflects the overall lack of cohesion on display.
The direction is flat to the point of being one dimensional, and Theron is about as anaemic a leading lady as I can remember in a movie.
In tone, it reminded me a little of Elektra, and that's no bloody compliment.
As mentioned, there are some good ideas lurking beneath the surface - the walled city surrounded by encroaching vegetation, the body mods the assassins have to improve performance, the recordings that can only be accessed by drinking a fluid - but the stultifyingly poor direction kills everything stone dead.
Not one I'd recommend, children.
And it's a shame as, at its core, there are some really good ideas, but the execution really let this one down.
It's 2415, and humanity has been all but eradicated by a virus some 400 years ago. Only one city remains, Bregna, a walled city governed by the Goodchild dynasty, led by one Trevor Goodchild, descendant of the man who found the cure for the virus on the brink of humankind's extinction.
Charlize Theron plays Aeon Flux (I'm not making this up), an assassin working for a group who called themselves The Monicans, rebels against the ruling regime. Aeon is sent to kill Trevor but, when her own sister is killed, her loyalties seem to change.
With an unusual visual style that borrows partly from The Matrix, partly from, perhaps, Minority Report, the visual confusion perhaps reflects the overall lack of cohesion on display.
The direction is flat to the point of being one dimensional, and Theron is about as anaemic a leading lady as I can remember in a movie.
In tone, it reminded me a little of Elektra, and that's no bloody compliment.
As mentioned, there are some good ideas lurking beneath the surface - the walled city surrounded by encroaching vegetation, the body mods the assassins have to improve performance, the recordings that can only be accessed by drinking a fluid - but the stultifyingly poor direction kills everything stone dead.
Not one I'd recommend, children.
Shark Swarm (2008) Dir: James A. Contner
Some movies truly reveal the mentality of the gibbering teats that infest IMDB for the most part, giving straight to TV fodder such lowly ratings and savage reviews.
You know the type, those that take life way too seriously, and judge every movie as if the people making it genuinely believe they are creating a masterpiece. These imbeciles seem to have no inkling that, sometimes, movies are made just because the people behind it think it will be a fucking good laugh to do so. They snort cocaine, smoke White Widow, laugh their anuses off in the concept meetings and churn out something that they know for a fact is a piece of shit, but my Christly Christington they had a whale of a time making it.
So here's Shark Swarm, a movie that is to Jaws what Dan Brown is to Clive Cussler: a pale imitation.
And very enjoyable it is too.
The plot: A shady 'A-Team' style real estate developer is dumping chemicals into a bay that, unbeknownst to him, has the side effect of turning the resident shark population into blood thirsty, pack hunting monsters.
No-one is safe; bathers, fishermen, surfers.
Well, unless they just stayed out of the water.
You know, maybe just stood on the shore and looked out to sea, admiring nature in all its beauty from the safety of solid ground.
Then they'd be safe.
I don't know, maybe they could head to Starbucks, grab a take-out skinny mochachino with extra choco flakes and sit on the beach reading a good book, chatting to their friends, maybe even listening to some music on their MP3 players.
Then they'd be safe.
Just don't go in the water people.
Don't go anywhere fucking near it.
It's full of things that want to kill us, at all times, not just when sharks mutate but, every second of every God given day there's things in there with big teeth and poisoned prongs and body parts I can't even identify that cut and slash and gnaw. Poisonous, deadly demons with the capacity to exist underwater that hate us, absolutely hate us, and take any opportunity they get to pierce us or slash us or eat us with their huge, tooth-filled mouths.
Just stay away from the water, folks, if it's the last thing you do.
The things in there HATE US.
You know the type, those that take life way too seriously, and judge every movie as if the people making it genuinely believe they are creating a masterpiece. These imbeciles seem to have no inkling that, sometimes, movies are made just because the people behind it think it will be a fucking good laugh to do so. They snort cocaine, smoke White Widow, laugh their anuses off in the concept meetings and churn out something that they know for a fact is a piece of shit, but my Christly Christington they had a whale of a time making it.
So here's Shark Swarm, a movie that is to Jaws what Dan Brown is to Clive Cussler: a pale imitation.
And very enjoyable it is too.
The plot: A shady 'A-Team' style real estate developer is dumping chemicals into a bay that, unbeknownst to him, has the side effect of turning the resident shark population into blood thirsty, pack hunting monsters.
No-one is safe; bathers, fishermen, surfers.
Well, unless they just stayed out of the water.
You know, maybe just stood on the shore and looked out to sea, admiring nature in all its beauty from the safety of solid ground.
Then they'd be safe.
I don't know, maybe they could head to Starbucks, grab a take-out skinny mochachino with extra choco flakes and sit on the beach reading a good book, chatting to their friends, maybe even listening to some music on their MP3 players.
Then they'd be safe.
Just don't go in the water people.
Don't go anywhere fucking near it.
It's full of things that want to kill us, at all times, not just when sharks mutate but, every second of every God given day there's things in there with big teeth and poisoned prongs and body parts I can't even identify that cut and slash and gnaw. Poisonous, deadly demons with the capacity to exist underwater that hate us, absolutely hate us, and take any opportunity they get to pierce us or slash us or eat us with their huge, tooth-filled mouths.
Just stay away from the water, folks, if it's the last thing you do.
The things in there HATE US.
Slither (2006) Dir: James Gunn
Probably as close as we will get to seeing a 'proper' horror movie for quite some time (though I must confess, I'm yet to see Drag Me To Hell about which I have heard similar claims).
The Plot: A small community in South Carolina is over-run by alien parasites that turn their hosts into flesh hungry killers, all channelled through one mind.
A likeable cast of relative unknowns (well, Fallion was in Firefly , I guess) really get into the spirit of things, playing out the B movie action with commendably straight faces.
Comedy horror is always a fine line to tread, and this stays just the right side of wacky to be acceptable.
The movie is clearly a homage to the legendary Night of the Creeps despite the directors claims to the contrary (I think he said he has never even seen that movie. Yeah, right) as well as visual effects nods to such great fare as From Beyond , Basket Case and Society .
For those desperately mourning the sad demise of American horror, this one might keep you going for a few months longer.
The Plot: A small community in South Carolina is over-run by alien parasites that turn their hosts into flesh hungry killers, all channelled through one mind.
A likeable cast of relative unknowns (well, Fallion was in Firefly , I guess) really get into the spirit of things, playing out the B movie action with commendably straight faces.
Comedy horror is always a fine line to tread, and this stays just the right side of wacky to be acceptable.
The movie is clearly a homage to the legendary Night of the Creeps despite the directors claims to the contrary (I think he said he has never even seen that movie. Yeah, right) as well as visual effects nods to such great fare as From Beyond , Basket Case and Society .
For those desperately mourning the sad demise of American horror, this one might keep you going for a few months longer.
The Abyss (1989) Dir. James Cameron
You know how it is:
You're a successful movie director and have recently completed one of the most accomplished sequels in movie history (Aliens) and, in the back of your mind, an idea is forming about another sequel, one with Arnhult, Asta La Vista and GnR warbling over motorcycle sequences. Trouble is, Linda Hamilton isn't available for a few years and Arnhult has prior commitments up to his nutsac.
What to do?
Well, why not direct an underwater sci-fi spectacular, making use of one of the most expensive and elaborate sets ever designed to whet your appetite for future projects?
Eh?
Eh?
Why not just go and direct The Abyss?
Well?
Beautifully shot, much admiration must be expelled in the general direction of Cinematographer Mikael Salomon for the visuals which truly captivate, right from the off.
The plot: An American nuclear sub' has been lost and it is up to an expedition led by a young looking Ed Harris and the weirdly sexy Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio to seek, locate and extract anything useful, be that people or equipment. A bunch of Navy SEALS are sent along to assist, though they seem to have an agenda all their own whilst, most worryingly, it seems they may not be alone in the depths as something altogether alien stirs.
Whilst this is essentially a monster movie, it is a monster movie with a difference. Here, the gribbly-ibblies aren't befanged and hungry for human flesh, instead they are more cerebral, content simply to float around and look beautiful in a vague attempt to make contact, seeming more curious than threatening.
At times heart-stoppingly evocative, the film does occasionally delve into mawkish territory, particularly the soap opera-light relationship shared by Harris and Mastrantonio, which is the single reason this did not gain top marks.
An excellent, ideas driven sci-fi movie that will, if you have any semblance of humanity in your cold, empty heart leave you simply breathless.
You're a successful movie director and have recently completed one of the most accomplished sequels in movie history (Aliens) and, in the back of your mind, an idea is forming about another sequel, one with Arnhult, Asta La Vista and GnR warbling over motorcycle sequences. Trouble is, Linda Hamilton isn't available for a few years and Arnhult has prior commitments up to his nutsac.
What to do?
Well, why not direct an underwater sci-fi spectacular, making use of one of the most expensive and elaborate sets ever designed to whet your appetite for future projects?
Eh?
Eh?
Why not just go and direct The Abyss?
Well?
Beautifully shot, much admiration must be expelled in the general direction of Cinematographer Mikael Salomon for the visuals which truly captivate, right from the off.
The plot: An American nuclear sub' has been lost and it is up to an expedition led by a young looking Ed Harris and the weirdly sexy Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio to seek, locate and extract anything useful, be that people or equipment. A bunch of Navy SEALS are sent along to assist, though they seem to have an agenda all their own whilst, most worryingly, it seems they may not be alone in the depths as something altogether alien stirs.
Whilst this is essentially a monster movie, it is a monster movie with a difference. Here, the gribbly-ibblies aren't befanged and hungry for human flesh, instead they are more cerebral, content simply to float around and look beautiful in a vague attempt to make contact, seeming more curious than threatening.
At times heart-stoppingly evocative, the film does occasionally delve into mawkish territory, particularly the soap opera-light relationship shared by Harris and Mastrantonio, which is the single reason this did not gain top marks.
An excellent, ideas driven sci-fi movie that will, if you have any semblance of humanity in your cold, empty heart leave you simply breathless.
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