Monday, December 14, 2009

How To Make A Monster (2001)

Well, it's always a good thing when the kid's movie you're watching turns out to actually be filled with bouncing boobies and mished-mashed body parts. Isn't it? This was like a video-game, stoner flick from hell. As pleasantly surprised as I was by the addition of nudity, I found myself asking "are they really making that girl jump up and down?" And then there was the terrible technology with 1992 computer graphics and a serious lack of preemptive research. I mean, I may not be a gamer per se, but I certainly know that when the game is less interesting or challenging than your local kiddie maze, not to mention it has to be made for a major company in less than 2 months, that somebody is full of shit. I mean, that giant is programming in his weapon play by swinging around swords with some cables wrapped around his bulges? I don't think so. And half the technology words were completely made up. Question: what does devil-Pikachu have to do with this Evilution? Yes, my friends: the game is called Evilution. It's not often that I come across a movie where the swearing is so bountiful that it makes a tacky movie look even tackier. But with a name like How To Make A Monster I guess I shouldn't be surprised. The fucks make Officer John McClane look like a goddamn angel! It's like they just gave up on having any sort of audience at all. I mean, who are they aiming for? Teenage boys who don't play video games? What TV channel did they even make this for? And, of course the black guy dies first. But then they have to go and meld his head onto some giant white dude's body...And add on metallic jaws, a battle helmet and a couple of pixelated fireballs? That ain't right. I seriously wasn't expecting all the super-nast of oozing body pieces, squelching noises and the general level of corpsification. It really got good at the end though. I think that at one point the chick is having a virtual reality battle against a three dimensional opponent, during a real battle. Yes, mind-boggling. And they certainly up the fear factor waving around that bloody CD-rom. I'm shivering in my boots! What's next, the fright-mongering USB drive? Even better, I think the video game killing somehow gave her creepy blood-lust and monster-groupie tendencies. I'm so confused!

Final Judgment: "Take another hit my friend!/Technology is evil! And bouncy tits are never out of style!"

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Fall Literary Review

Although a recent venture into graduate school has left me with less time to enjoy literary satisfaction, I thought I would keep you updated with my forays into fiction. I know, I'm a sci-fi nerd. But I stand by it. I have yet to be more intellectually intrigued by another genre. So judge me if you will. Some day, nerds will rule the world!























Rocannon's World (1966) - Ursula LeGuin
The Net (1987) - Loren MacGregor
Millennium (1983) - John Varley
The Invisible Man (1897) - H.G. Wells
The Songs of Distant Earth (1986) - Arthur C. Clarke
Rainbows End (2006) - Vernor Vinge

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Halloween Hootenanny!

Due to some personal issues, I've been away from the land of interweb recently and instead spending time outside while home in WA. But now I return. And I just can't let the previous puppies slide away and miss their chance at a place on my blog. I mean, seriously, some of my favorite movies that are completely obscure and underrated baffle me with their absence from this site. But then I remember that I only repeat a movie watching experience once every two or three years, and their number just hasn't come up in the existence of this dedicated yet undernourished blog of ridiculousness. So don't worry post-Halloween marathon movies, you will gain a short but satisfying place in history. After a delightful party on the 31st, the boy and I decided to laze the Sunday away by working while watching a seemingly endless stream of horror movies that probably would have never made it up the list (I have many more movies than I can ever watch! Awkward, huh?!) if not for this lazy day on the 1st of November. Only two of the four will get half posts here; the others are only calling for documentary notation. But these two were quite acceptable, and, I dare say, memorable. It's always good when you watch two movies back to back that have a scene of a car crashing into a building and exploding. Awesome!!!! Even better, both beauties share misused concepts of population genetics and evolution. So up my alley!!!! Begin.

Wrong Turn (2003) - It should seem fairly obvious that I purchased this film in my less discretionary days. In fact, I never thought I'd watch it. Oddly enough, it turned out to be the most enjoyable film of the day. It's pretty straight-up run and hide, chased by monsters in the woods horror. The only even recognizable actor is Eliza Dushku, and you have to be a pretty serious Whedon fan to buy a movie based on her star power. But, what can I say? My favorite thing about Eliza is that she has absolutely zero hips. I mean, she's totally hot, but she's built like a bookshelf. So, the editors spend the entire movie just trying to avoid showing her full body in straight-on shots. It's like a little game! Well, at least she isn't wearing that terrible workout outfit. If you only have one costume in a film, why make it an absurdly ugly one? Answer me that. Overall, the violence is good and gory yet tasteful. The nervous factor is a sweet medium. Chick power is way up. Oh, and there are inbred mutant cannibal hick zombies. All in all, this flick is just what was ordered.
I deem it: "Sick yet satisfying!/Predictable yet still surprising!/A sure sign the Dushku can kick the ugliest of asses!"

The Forsaken (2001) - Ha, this movie has even less star power. It's sad, because there were only two things that made me buy this movie, and they wouldn't have been strong enough alone. But together, somehow, the garish teenage vampire thing combined with that actor who played in a single Alias episode was enough to cause me throw down a solid 1 dollar on this VHS cassette tape. And it was worth it. You can tell a lot about a movie by the credits. For example, this clearly turn of the millennium piece put the opening title over a pair of succulent tits. Yes, tits under the credits. And then again later. All in all, no less than 4 chicks show their melons in this melancholic, MTV sponsored, anti-MTV flick clearly filmed for those lost souls who feel helpless in society but yet just can't get off their couch and do anything about it. A common dilemma unfortunately, especially among middle class, white males who live with their relatives long after is wise. Cough Cough. Well, this film is definitely trying to be hip. If the drug scene vamp-vision didn't give it away, the man with a capuchin and a popsicle certainly did. My favorite part was the rapid-fire monologue made by the main hunter who is supposed to represent some illegitimate bastard child of society while being played by a blond who lives in LA. Ah, the irony. Nick: We are fucked. Take a look at the world we inherited. We're a bunch of fast-food munching MTV freaks humping the great American Dream. The generation before us sold their innocence for 200 digitally enhanced satellite stations, and it's been downhill ever since. They had Mickey Mouse, Easy Rider and The Beatles. Alright? We got South Park, The Blair Bitch and Ricky Martin. Alright? They had "Be here now!". We got "Shit Happens!". If that doesn't put thinks in perspective, i dunno what does. I mean, we're just Microsoft Neanderthals addicted to surfing netland, still shitting in our nests. And every time i think about giving a rat's ass, i picture Monica making millions from sucking Bill's little red rooster. Just rockets me right back into reality.
Preach it, sister!

I deem it: "Meant for boys who are freaked out and frustrated by David Lynch but still want to feel cool and masochistic!/Vamps and Vapid Vag'es, a perfect combination!/Stop whining and shoot things!

Honorable Mentions:

The Grudge (2004) - SMG, this shit is pretty bad

Pet Sematary (1989) - Classic yet still confusing and creepy. Children killers freak me out! And why do those goddamn trucks drive so fast? Thank god for mystical, magical Native Americans - oh wait, i guess their magic is evil; kill them all! YES!!!



Saturday, October 31, 2009

Supergirl (1984)

Dun dun dun dun! Well, I guess this is supposed to be some sort of far-fetched feminist fling because all the male characters in this film are flippin' useless. Completely and utterly useless. Unless of course you're looking for a warm and mildly interesting dildo. I may be sounding a bit crude (and trust me, I tone it down for public appearances like this one), but in retrospect, this just seems to be a movie about chicks fighting over a sex toy. Faye Dunaway is a deadly knockout in her crazy-hair wig and giant Japanese kimono. And that Supergirl chick isn't too bad herself. She certainly knows how to please a guy - sky tour in a flying football head bed? Count me in! Not that Dunaway is to be outdone, warping Señor dude back to her zebra print divan in chilling chains and hoping for a spot of lust (don't we all). The other chick is pretty incompetent though (hopefully impotent as well). Now that I think about it, it's almost like the Teen Wolf phenom.; you know, where the sequel is just a mirror copy of the original? You can literally pair up every character in Superman to every character in Supergirl, except they will be of the opposite sex. That's either crafty or incredibly cheap. It's still up in the air. Of course, in that pseudo-faux-feminist way, Hackman gets to revile with his brains while Dunaway has to resort to using misappropriated magic. Take it from a snarky female, brains certainly don't just belong to balding white men. Either way, this movie has crazy construction equipment, and that just may be the secret ingredient needed to make me hop on the train, or bandwagon, or any other vehicular object. The secondary item that graces this curious catastrophe is the whole witchcraft amusement park horror thing. Rhinestone cat eyes, gargoyles and demons, a haunted house and metal cat balls filled with people? For gods' sakes, he lives in a pod! But when she uses her magic mojo to move her mansion/castle up onto the top of the mystic mountain that appears just south of town, I'm all for it. Can't blame a lady for wanting a view!

(notes to self)
oh man, after 2 minutes of smoke and disco light filled credits, i am suddenly in a white blood cell of a future spa city with drugged out whities wearing see through left over hippie clothes
he has a glass wand and singing black ball - he even has a leather pouch
it's like they're in a toy store - of magic!
she's flying warp smelt eggs!
rinse off the cheese sauce!
"immortality be upon this one - she is a share of the sun's everlasting life - there will now be no danger for death - this world will keep her forever"

We mocked the credits and then found out they wasted 1$ million on that shit!

Final judgment: "I guess idiot villains are good when you're an involuntary hero/Sex toys and haunted houses - just in time for Halloween!/Saving sci-fi one blond at a time.

Ps. sucks when the men upstairs find 45 minutes of your film to be unnecessary and the fight scenes still seem too long!:
124 min (international version) | USA:105 min (theatrical version) | USA:138 min (director's cut) | USA:150 min (original cut) | Germany:89 min (Video Version)

"The world is at last my oyster!"

"Nigel: I want to make a very serious proposal.
Selena: In that outfit? "

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Youngblood (1986)

The reign of Patrick Swayze lives on, although sometimes I think his mullet is doing most of the work. In this piece we see the 'trashy hick aunt' variation of the haunting hairstyle. And while Rob Lowe is touted as the top-dog in this feature, Swayze, with his walkman and the rolled-down waistband on his sweatpants, definitely has this puppy in the bag. Even worse, my 90's VHS re-issue goes to the desperate lengths of describing a 'special cameo from Speed star' Keanu Reeves, when really he's like a 17 year old background actor with about 2 lines and the classic Bill and Ted hairstyle. Where's the respect?! Then again, when an entire movie is based around grappling with dudes, slapping asses and even shaving a scrot or two, maybe respect isn't exactly what they're going for. Don't worry, we get triumphant shots of both boy-booty and timeless titty, so as a feminist, I feel satiated in the objectifying flesh department. Even better is the sexy scene with backlighting where you can totally tell this is the 80's due to the alluring outline of the leading lady's upper thigh hair. Not that I have anything against upper thigh hair; I'm just trying to imagine the massive amounts of computer power and pocketbook change they would dedicate to eliminate such an unsightly image in the age of grotesque plastic surgery, shiny orange bodies and basketball tits. Ah the 21st century. Ultimately, this is a hockey movie. We are graced with glistening 80's montages (my personal favorite is the 'why life on a farm is shitty'), sword-fighting with hockey sticks and the leery lesson that you can't be a man until you can beat the shit out of your enemies. Seriously, that's the lesson of the movie. In the end the whole team and the refs are just circling around waiting to see if he's learned how to beat someone up in a fight. Boys, boys, boys.

Final Judgment: "Blood flies and booties bounce!/ 80's montage music+time lapse = the key to breaking down the fourth dimension!/ An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth (and they mean that literally!) / Swayze's mullet: ye who truly deserved the Nobel Peace Prize!

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Hard Target (1993)

So I watched this movie more than two weeks ago, and I'm just now getting around to posting on it. It's actually a good thing I took notes (am I nerdy or what?), because I could only remember one thing about this magnificent movie: nothing could suck that hot and harrowing image of Jean-Claude's greasy mullet curls swinging silently in the wind with each windmill kick. Oh Jean-Claude. only you could surf a dirt bike while killing people and simultaneously rocking the August look for a '93 copy of Hairdresser's Weekly. But is this really a Jean Claude movie? I mean, he's in it. But there's no raunchy sex with a glistening and flexing side view of JC's right cheek! Why did I even watch it?! I'm going to go ahead and blame that on John Woo, who, like Jackie Chan, seems almost creepily asexual on film. What's up with that? However, that could explain why Kurt Russell was considered and dismissed for the protag role. Only a sexless being could turn down that pile of sugar! On the other hand: how could you not know this was a John Woo movie with that funky fire and those darling doves everywhere? It's actually his first US movie, and I have to say, I think he done well. We already talked about JC and his sweet locks, but...there's more! My friend, Lance Henriksen boldly graces this godly ganglion. He's definitely my favorite weird-looking old guy. And with this film as my substantiating evidence: I always knew Lance could control the desert powers (I'm still debating as to whether I would prefer desert powers or dessert powers....oh the desserts....). And Lance is so sweet, his lackeys pay him! Now that's status! So basically, this movie is set in some sort of wife-beater and tight jeans wild wild West with horse battles and projectile weapons and oddly a giant Mardi-Gras swan where these rich creeps play a modern version of the deadliest game with ex-military bums and there are explosions and gun fights around every corner and JC is always there to save the day (no, the irony of his initials is not lost on me). Even the mummy can't bring him down! One thing is for sure: this movie would be like 20 gawdamn minutes shorter if they quit with the excessive slo-mo! I wonder what would happen if John Woo and Michael Bay made a movie together, or even worse, telepathically communicated secret messages of doom together - would the Universe collapse? Sucked in through the asshole of a white dove while dramatic world-ending music plays? You never know...

Final Judgment: "Jean-Claude ripping the rattle off a snake makes me tingle in an inappropriate and slightly nauseating way!/ Wow-za, it's a hair-off!/ Heavy on the wild west theme with plucky guit-tar = quick draw for the high-kick!/The flask will save you!

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Krull (1983)

It appears that somehow I managed to be struck with a misguided missile of ill-fate during my adolescence, because this detstve was never graced with the glory of Krull. But there is always time to mend mistakes, and let me tell you, on one of my meandering moments under the dreary lights of the local Blockbuster, I wandered past this wicked wonder and stopped dead in my tracks. Yes, the name of Krull rings true in my subconscious - I have definitely heard people praise its perfection when wistfully reminiscing of the days of puppets and costumes, elaborate sets and the always effective foreground miniature and luscious layering - but it was not until I stumbled past the cover, with a cyclops, an 80's princess and the futuresque medieval 5-pronged boomerang, that I deliciously and delicately placed this delight on my inner list, where not all movies may go, but those that do can make or break lives...and television sets. But these titillating treasures, placed so perfectly for a browsing eye, are only the shallowest of surfaces - no, no, the real winnings lie below. First of all, the sets and landscapes are beautiful, and that is not something that I was expecting. The castles yes, but the cliff-climbing in the Canaries, that's a beast of a different burden. It's the layers and layers of color and suns and the sets perfectly melded to create an epic atmosphere of classic sci-fi. Yes my friends, this is classic. I hate to use the word standard, but it is the standard, where all 80's sci movies should be. There was actually an eerie echo pulling at my brain and bringing The Ice Pirates to mind, which I find isn't strange at all since it's one of the only other movies managed by this madman writer. Ah, the 80s. And there is certainly a common sense of past and future with the medieval, lotr, star wars, sort of future quest vibe going on. But if that means one thing, it's a glorious one....tights and bare chests for all! (men at least)! There's an odd mix of storm troopers and knights, sword battles and laser fights, hairy chests and pleather, insectoid aliens, ancient monsters, skulking cyclops and old man seers. Let's see, we can totally play the where's the waldo weirdness game; find these things and more!:....flashing green lithics, battle axes and a tomato-picking hagrid, transmorphing, metal eyes, whips and furry capes, far too much fake hair, a Neanderthal kid, Liam Neeson whoring himself out for provisions, a disembodied monster claw with a delicate dainty in its clutches, flaming footed wild horses wrangled and wrassled and ready for more, oracles and spooky spiders, the totally mario moment (jump over the fireball, jump!) and the miraculously melting head. Oh yes my friends, and this is just the beginning. But seriously, it's no wonder this got turned into a videogame! It's ripe for the right-left-right!

Final Judgment: A magical time of romance, battles and crazy images (the 80's of course)!/It's not the glaive, it's you!/An amalgamation of all our greatest future fantasy myths!/If love is supposed to make you shoot fireballs out of your palm, I guess I'm not doing it right!/Ah Stanford Sherman, the alliteration in your name proves that we were meant to be together!/God, I wish people were still making awesome sci-fi movies!

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Elvira, Mistress of the Dark (1988)

Oh Elvira; I don't know if what you're doing is good or bad for the future of feminism, but it's certainly one thing: raunchy. Yes, this movie is clearly made for the kinks...with shiny bodies, endless sex jokes and the freedom of vaginal expression. And her tits! I had to wait until the VHS special features section after the movie to truly determine how she keeps those whoppas up. Yes it's with some secretly sexy under-wire and a whole of lot of gift from god. Can you believe she's almost 40 in this? Crank up the cougar factor! Basically, the whole movie is one long sexscapade with prudish puritans associating a free swinging cooch and nice tatas with being a wicked witch. Oh wait, she is a witch! Good call dudes! In fact, due to her sultry powers of seduction and literacy, Elvira manages to create love spells and animatronic casserole monsters all while wearing her classic Halloween goth get-up and 10lbs of hair. Even her pink mohawked poodle has tricks up his sleeve, transmogrifying into an actually scary dog instead of a little fuzzy that some dude in the Castro dressed up for the Folsom Street Fair. And that creepy Satan dude can totally breathe fire! Anyway, if this movie is about anything besides tits, it's the one-liners, the zingers, the digs, the blitzgriegs, the endless affronts. Yes, the jokes are good. Really in a sort of triumph of will, the movie ends with the highlight of life (at least for those small-town, big-dream, greasy thigh kinda fellas) for Elvira: her own Las Vegas show! Have you ever seen anything so expectedly out-of-control (besides Wong Foo of course)? I mean, oiled men, giant tarantulas, synchronized titty tassles, rapping and the ever misinterpreted...googly eyes? Wow, I've clearly been missing out on the finer points of American existence. Then again, if you can't float, you sink. And I wasn't born with the voluptuous buoys of some other dark-haired vixens. Just gotta keep treading water I guess!

Final Judgment: "'Unpleasant dreams' is right: I'll never eat hot dogs again!"

Chastity Pariah: I don't know who you are or where you came from but you most certainly don't fit in this town. Why, you don't even fit in that dress.
Elvira: Listen sister, if I want your opinion, I'll beat it out of you.

Elvira: Bloody Mary.
Bartender: No hard liquor served past eight o'clock. Do you want a virgin?
Elvira: Maybe, but, ah... I'll have a couple of drinks first.

Bob Redding: How's your head?
Elvira: I haven't had any complaints yet.

Chastity Pariah: Well, if she's morally unfit, then we have every right to do anything we can to get her out of this town. Are we agreed?
Mr. Clotter: I never laid a hand on those sheep, so help me.
Elvira: I have seen the People's Court. I'm entitled to one phone call and a strip search.

Cop: Do you know you were doing fifty in a twenty five miles per hour zone?
Elvira: No, but if you hum a few bars I'll fake it.

Elvira: And if they ever ask about me, tell them I was more than just a great set of boobs. I was also an incredible pair of legs. And tell them... tell them that I never turned down a friend. I... never turned down a stranger for that matter. And tell them... tell them that when all is said and done, I only ask that people remember me by two simple words.
[Stops to think]
Elvira: Any two, as long as they're simple.
[breaks down crying]

Chastity Pariah: Please, I don't think we need to resort to name calling. I think what Calvin is trying to say is that this Elvira is person of easy virtue, a purveyor of pulchritude, a one-woman Sodom and Gomorrah, if you will. A slimy, slithering succubus, a concubine, a street walker, a tramp, a slut, a cheap whore.