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!