Phony trailer fun

Because Kirby reigns supreme.

COMING ATTRACTIONS: SATISFACTION

The nice folks over at Spirit of Vatican 2 "Catholic" Faith Community suggested in the strongest, yet strangely loving and non-violent, way possible that I review the movies of a certain famous actress. Sadly, as the lady's movies don't really fit into the B-Movie category, so it seemed unlikely I would be able to fulfill their request. Until I remembered this little gem from 1988. This one's for you Che'. You can view the trailer here, with the usual obligatory advertisement of course. (And then you can take a good look at the poster, count legs, and see if you can figure it all out. I know I can't.)

NOW SHOWING AT A BLOG NEAR YOU

As much as I hate to admit it, there does appear to be other movies besides what you can find at the drive-in or direct to video outlets. And a lot of the nice people on the other side of those links in the sidebar actually watch them. What's that all about? Anyway, since most of these films don't stand much of a chance of making anappearance in these pages, I thought I might occasionally assemble some links to movie reviews from my fellow Catholic bloggers. Let's see what's now showing at a blog near you?

The Sci-Fi Catholic recently took a look at both the early Miyasaki animated classic Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind and Jet Li's Legend Of The Red Dragon, both which he rates as medium-high in quality. That's a lot of Asian cinema. Urge to watch Mighty Peking Man (again) rising.

The American Papist (not your average Catholic, you know) gives his not-so-average review of the recent blockbuster Spider-Man 3. Why not so average? Well, unlike a lot of other reviewers, he actually seems to have to liked it.

Dadwithnoisykids over at Scorpion Stalking Duck got the chance to see Die Grosse Stille, a documentary on monastery living that doesn't stand a chance of getting anywhere near my home town. Netflix, still one of the best presents I ever got.

Rod Bennett, author of "Four Witnesses", recently posted a series on Pop Typology featuring Christ figures in movies. Not sure you want to jump into an eight part series, then I have only one word for you... Tron.

James at The Daily Brouhaha provides a list of films he considers the most re-watchable. I don't know, I'm not seeing a single rubber monster suit in the whole thing, but you can judge for yourself.

And I would be remiss if I didn't point everyone to a couple of blogs by two guys who frequently post comments on this blog (and also happen to be some of my oldest friends in the world). Their blogs aren't oriented to religious discussion, but I have it from reliable sources (their moms) that they were raised good Catholic boys.

Wm over at The White Whale discussed why he thought John Carpenter's The Thing falls just short of being a classic. When one of my less-than-tactful comments rubbed him the wrong way, he felt the need to write a follow up.

Mr. Doob, author of The (very infrequent might I say) Blog of Doob and certified James Bond fanatic, took upon himself the task of ranking all of the 007 films from best to worst. Your list may vary.

That's it for this time around. I know I probably missed some good reviews out there, but this was kind of a spur of the moment, act on it now or never do it, kind of idea. If I left one out anyone would like to see in the next list, just let me know.

REVIEW: A Mighty Heart

"Sobering" is so far the best term to describe "A Mighty Heart." Too bad reactions to it run anything but, or so it seems thus far. The film takes an event, the murder by terrorists of Daniel Pearl, that seems BUILT to engender nothing but extreme reactions in any number of directions and attempts to look at it through the extremity-filtering lens of a tragic docudrama. It's a refreshing stylistic choice, even as I'm personally sick to death of docu-drama-shaky-cam business, as well as a storytelling one - a nice surprise given how annoyingly politically one-sided director Michael Winterbottom's earlier "Road to Guantanamo" was.

Give Winterbottom credit for aiming to avoid spectacle and hyperbole, but he ought've known better: The folks who WANT there to be spectacle and hyperbole about this will generate it on their own, usually in absence of actually seeing the movie, regardless of whether or not the film itself gives them a reason to. It comes down to the sad state of the times: For one "side" of the extreme, a film resembling ANYTHING short of a billowing Old Glory and a bombastic intonation that Pearl's ghastly fate should motivate us to "stick it out" in Iraq will immediately be called "a cop-out" at best and "capitulation to terrorism" at worst... while for the other "side" ANYTHING short of a flame-framed still of George W. Bush and a whispy coda calling Pearl's murder "fallout of AmeriKKKan war mongering!!!" won't do at all. Both sides are an embarassment to the very word "debate."

There's probably nothing any review, certainly not mine, can do to prevent the innevitability of this quietly worthy film being swallowed up amid all this nonsense, only to remerge on DVD and then again come the winter and Angelina Jolie's now-innevitable Academy Award nomination. But I'll say anyway, for the record, that "A Mighty Heart" is a fine film that deftly fuses character-centric tragedy with "Dragnet"-style bullet-point police procedural drama as it dually tracks the strained emotional and physical health of Pearl's widow Marianne (Jolie) and the dizzyingly complex web of politics and street-level intrigue being navigated by the American and Pakistani law enforcers assigned to handle the case.

What works best, aside from across-the-board excellent acting, is that the film actually LIVES UP to it's easier-said-than-done commitment to "fairness:" The only thing resembling a 'hard' political stance it takes can be summed up as "Islamofascist terrorism is evil," and if you can disagree with THAT I've got no confidence that we can have any meaningful dialogue. The terrorists et al, when we meet them, are not mustache-twirling caricatures but frighteningly ordinary - they state they're anti-American, anti-Semetic positions matter of factly and the film just lets it hang in the air, like noxious smoke, confident that the audience does not need to be TOLD that these are the evil words of evil men. Dicey details like the extreme-likelihood of corruption in the Pakistani political system, "inside" agitators and the casual way the self-described "Jihadis" mingle with the rest of the cast/population arrive just-the-facts style with no hand-of-god judgement from the director. When a TV journalist comments on the off-putting nature of Marianne's (public) Zen-stoicism about Daniel's kidnapping, the criticism goes essentially unchallenged.

Amazingly, (especially after "Road,") Winterbottom even lets the issue of "proportionate response" when fighting Jihadis arrive onscreen matter-of-fact and sans-outright critique: The story assigns the role of "resident ass-kicker" to a character identified only as "The Captain," (Ifran Khan from "The Namesake") a Pakistani police official tasked with running down and interrogating the increasingly dense network of leads. He's a calm, cool and to-the-point hardcase in the vein of Jack Webb. Does he use some questionable methods to nail his targets? Yup. Is he willing to break out the guns and kick down the doors? You betcha. Does he torture for information? Well... it's hard to say. We see an interrogation that sure LOOKS like it could be torture, but The Captain's role is simply to calmly look his restained subject in the eye and gently/coldly ask the same question until he cracks. Compare this to the loud-whisper/alligator-clips tomfoolery of "24" and ask yourself which one more likely resembles actual policework. The point is, all of this arrives without judgement. It simply lands onscreen and asks to be regarded on those merits, nothing more.

And yes, what you've heard is true: Jolie's "Oscar clip" moment in the 3rd act is fearsome piece of physical acting. It's a set of actions you've seen in a billion movies, (you'll see what I mean) but never done better than here. In fact, this could be the scene that retires "it" from use for a good long time.

FINAL RATING: 9/10

THE STUFF

TYPICAL REVIEW

"Always a better idea-man than a director, Cohen has a knack for killing surefire premises, yet he leaves plenty to salvage from the twisted wreckage." - Scott Tobias, The Onion A. V. Club

THE PLOT

A quarry worker discovers a puddle of bubbling white goo in the dirt and does what any normal person would under the circumstances; he eats some. From that humble beginning it isn't long before The Stuff becomes the desert sensation of the decade with a growing cult of Stuffies who refuse to eat anything else. Infuriated by their own dropping sales and hoping to "keep the world safe for ice cream", a conglomerate of Madison Avenue execs hire former-CIA spook and industrial saboteur Mo Rutherford to uncover the secret formula of The Stuff. Much to his horror, however, Mo discovers the secret ingredient in the desert is actually eeeevil! The Stuff is, in fact,... living sentient yogurt from the center of the Earth which controls the will of those who ingest it while parasitically devouring them from the inside. (You don't get to write sentences like that reviewing Children Of Men.) Along the way, Mo finds allies in Nicole (obligatory love interest), Jason (obligatory irritating child), Colonel Spears (obligatory crazed militant survivalist), and Chocolate Chip Charlie (um... whatever). But friends are few to be found as more and more people are succumbing to The Stuff. By the end of the movie, Mo and the gang are on the run in a world where the only rule is DON'T eat or be eaten.

THE POINT

Written, produced, and directed by Larry Cohen. Those are words which can bring a smile to just about any B-Movie lover's face. Now just in case you don't know, Larry Cohen is the man behind a string of low budget classics which include Black Caesar, It's Alive, Q - The Winged Serpent, and God Told Me To. And when I say classics, this time it's in the good sense. Every movie just mentioned is entertaining, thought provoking, and most likely to show up on these pages at some point. The Stuff probably doesn't quite warrant the title of a classic, but it's still has all of the usual Cohen touches that make his movies fun to watch.

First and foremost, Cohen gets good actors; ones whose names may not be big marquee draws, but who have talent beyond what the budget typically allows for. The under appreciated Garrett Morris chews up scenery as Chocolate Chip Charlie, the kung-fu snack maker ("My hands are registered as deadly weapons with the mid-New Jersey police force"). Danny Aiello has a brief cameo as the owner of a Stuff-addicted Doberman who meets a ghastly end once the dog realizes the refrigerator is empty. (How many actors of his stature get to play a death scene where their last words are "I'll buy more! I'll buy more!"?) Paul Sorvino is excellently over-the-top as the ultra-ultra-ultra right wing colonel with his own private army ("I will permit this colored man to speak. But speak one word of the Commie party, or one word in code, and I will blow his head off.") But it's Michael Moriarty who owns the movie with his characterization of Mo. From the instant he walks on screen, shaking hands with the manufacturers ("That's a sweaty palm. Ah, another sweaty palm! We just have a whole roomful of sweaty palms."), his performance is so bizarre and out-there that even Nicolas Cage probably sits and stares at it in gape mouthed wonder.

Still, all that talent would be wasted if the actors weren't given something interesting to work with, (just ask Halle Berry, she knows all to well) and The Stuff doesn't disappoint in the interesting department. The movie's combination of The Blob and Invasion Of The Body Snatchers, depicted by surprisingly decent effects, should hold the interest of the sci-fi contingent, while the humor is entertaining enough for the casual viewer. (It's hard not to like a movie where an entire militia travels to New York by taxi, makes sure to give the drivers a 10% tip, and asks for receipts.) But for those who want a little more heady stuff, Cohen always puts some topical ideas into his movies. That's not to say he delves too deeply into his themes or browbeats you with his viewpoint, but it's there if you want to think about it later. As an auteur unwilling to to accept any major studio interference, Cohen can't help but infuse his movies with an undertone of triumphant individualism. His main protagonists in The Stuff include a possible lunatic spy, a racist separatist, a self-employed entrepreneur, and a kid who didn't fit in with his family even before they became zombies; yet it is these people who save the world, not the armed forces, Congress, or anyone else in charge. Cohen seems to place most of his hope for the future of our country in outsiders. And that's fine, God likes outsiders too. It's always good to remember that amongst all the fishermen and farmers, Jesus managed to sprinkle some zealots, a tax collector, and a possible schizophrenic harlot amongst his entourage.

But Cohen's main theme throughout The Stuff is obviously a broad swipe at the culture of consumerism in the United States. It's an easy target. These days, advertising has grown into an ever-present 130 billion dollar a year industry. A recent study estimates that the average person will see 576 or more commercials each week on television alone. 576! And that doesn’t even include the ads on the internet and radio or in print. Sure, that’s a lot of propaganda, but, so what? Everyone recognizes an ad when they see one, right? And just because they’re advertising Chia heads doesn’t mean we’re forced to go out and buy the things are we? No, but maybe force isn't what's being used on us.

Way back in 1933, a study was conducted called “Motion Pictures and the Social Attitudes of Children”. It used a simple testing procedure. A topic was chosen and then a movie dealing with that subject matter was shown to a group of children. Measurements taken before and after the kids had seen the film noted any change of attitude due to the contents of the movie. As you’ve probably guessed, changes in attitude, often very big changes, were common. For example, after seeing "All Quiet on the Western Front", the children became noticeably anti-war, no matter what scenario was offered them. The effects were also found to be cumulative. The more movies a child watched that held a certain viewpoint, the more likely the child was to agree with that particular view. Now that may not exactly represent a use of force, but it sure sounds like what the Encyclopedia of Sociology Volume 1 calls situationally adaptive belief change and thought reform. Our crazy friend Colonel Spears would likely call it brainwashing.

Luciano Benetton, founder and chairman of Benetton Clothing rather unwittingly confirmed that marketers engage in this sort of thing when he claimed that "the purpose of advertising is not to sell more. It’s to do with institutional publicity, whose aim is to communicate the company's values (...) We need to convey a single strong image, which can be shared anywhere in the world." I think it's fair to say that the majority of advertisers engage in this sort of "communication of values". In fairness, Benetton was commenting on his company's controversial commercials dealing with Aids and child labor laws, but are the values communicated by ads always so good intentioned? Not according to recent studies like the one from Arizona State University which researched the effects of "thin imagery" from magazines and television. They found that the more a woman was exposed to this type of advertisement, the greater the likelihood she would develop the symptoms of an eating disorder.

The communication of these kind of values is one reason why some Christians, like the Amish for example, try to literally separate themselves from mainstream culture. (“And be ye not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.” Romans 12:2) After all, much like The Stuff, it's hard for consumerism's messages to get inside you if you don't partake in them to begin with. Catholicism, however, does not stand aloof from "the world." As Catholics we are called to live in, or at least beside, the culture while retaining the right to judge its products based on our own values. And help "convert" them if we can.

Archbishop Barry Hickey of Perth put it this way, "If the principles outlined in the Catechism are to evangelise or re-evangelise the Western world, Catholic thinkers must be at the intersection of religion and public life. It is not sufficient to withdraw from current moral and ethical debate and to work only at the level of personal faith, because culture is so pervasive and influential. The only answer, it seems to me, is to enter the philosophical and moral debates of our age, to penetrate them with the spirit of Christ." (Man, where was that quote when I was writing my reasons for even attempting this blog?) Uphill battle all the way? To be sure, but as Pope Benedict XVI recently said, "This is the only way you can help them form a Christian conscience capable of resisting the increasingly insidious and invasive enticements of consumerism". Like Mo and his gang of misfits, those of us on the "outside" (as Christians seem to be more and more these days) may just be the ones called on to save the day.

THE STINGER

Before we Christians get too holier than thou over the mote in the advertisers' eyes, however, it might be a good idea to take a look at the beam in our own. Craig M. Gray writes in his book Consumerism-The Complete Book, “The rise of denominational, and now religious, plurality in modern societies has led to a situation in which we are increasingly encouraged to ‘shop for,’ and so to be consumers of, religion itself. The consumption of religion, furthermore, suggests a fundamental change in the meaning of religious belief such that it has increasingly less to do with conviction and more and more to do with personal preference. Many churches and religious organizations have responded to the changing meaning of belief by obligingly repackaging religion to make it conveniently and easily consumable. Such trends have contributed to the emergence of a kind of religious marketplace in which modern consumers are faced with a veritable smorgasbord of religious options”. Ouch.

It's about effing time...

Morgan Freeman looks like Nelson Mandela. Morgan Freeman sounds like Nelson Mandela. Morgan Freeman specializes in playing quietly-dignified men of gently-divine inspiration... like Nelson Mandela. Back when I was a Blockbuster clerk, I remember on two seperate occasions meeting two entirely-unrelated folks who were CONVINCED that Morgan Freeman's best role was having played Nelson Mandela... though he never had. "Everybody knows" Morgan Freeman ought to play Nelson Mandela.

So, in a new movie, Morgan Freeman will play Nelson Mandela.
http://www.variety.com/article/VR1117967399.html?categoryid=13&cs=1

So, that happened.

REVIEW: D.O.A: Dead or Alive (2006)

So, "Fantastic Four: Rise of The Silver Surfer" absolutely, positively sucks. A disasterpiece. A film who's badness will be cemented as scripture (in html format, of course) in the Book of Geek by the end of the weekend. You should not waste you're money on it. Not on opening weekend, in any case, and maybe not until DVD or cable, honestly.

If you take my advice (and you really, really should - this movie might actually be bad enough to shorten the lifespan of certain viewers) however, that leaves you with a problem: What DO you see this weekend? In wide release, the only other mass-advertised alternative looks to be "Nancy Drew," which I'm hearing "okay" things about. And some of you are lucky enough to have "Eagle Vs. Shark," "Fido" or "Black Sheep" playing near you. But a surprising number of us, though it's been a BIT of a wait, have the alternative of this:



Yes, "D.O.A." finally comes to the U.S. I saw it (as did a lot of us) back when the full version turned up on Google Video, but held back a review in case it actually opened theatrically. Now that it has, I can tell you that it's a massively-watchable goof-off of a B-movie, a bouncy hybrid of Jackie Chan and Russ Meyer silliness, and absolutely worth seeing. It's a good time, plain and simple.

The premise, borrowed (loosely) from the video game series, is the old saw of a mixed martial-arts fighting competition held on an island resort. The gimmick this time around is that the vacationing fighters are fitted with GPS wristbands that locate one-another and assign fights at the (seemingly) random discretion of the contest's benefactor (Eric Roberts! No, really!!!) and thus can break out "anywhere at any time." Most of the game's (then) most-recent roster of characters turn up, though the focus is squarely on the five female fighters - the games, y'see, are famous for the startling attractiveness of it's women. Naturally, everyone arrives with a backstory and an agenda (my favorite: The American father/daughter pro wrestlers who've come to prove the legitimacy of their "fake sport" skills in real combat) and Eric Robert's goofy bad guy has a sinister "master plan." Much elaborate wire-fu, slapstick beatdowns, surprise alliances and gratuitious fan service in the form of rain-fights, bikinis and volleyball interludes ensue.

There's no universe in which "D.O.A." is a masterpiece, but it's FUN. A roster of colorful, comic-book style crazy characters beating the snot out of eachother under the direction of martial-arts legend Corey Yuen, five of them being outrageously gorgeous women dolled up like anime fetish dolls. The girls are tons of fun, with Jamie Pressley and Devon Aoki ending up the most endearing thanks to their sharp sense of humor as to what sort of movie they're in and how they ought to be behaving (Pressley could easily get by as a comic actress even if she didn't look like, well, like Jamie Pressley.) Every one of them is better-looking, and a better actress, than ... oh, let's say, Jessica Alba.

This is a big, gonzo B-movie, but in it's full-on embrace of it's own unpretentious wackiness it delivers full-on what so many of it's bigger-budget Summer Movie cousins lack: It's an absolute blast to watch. The gals are sexy as hell, the locales are 60s James Bond lovely, the bad guys are nutty and the fights are plentiful and imaginative. The flight-of-fancy action silliness of the "Transporter" flicks smashes together with the retro-campy sex appeal of the first "Charlie's Angels" like chocolate and peanut-butter. It's PURE exploitation, but it works. It delivers. You'll see a dozen "better" movies this summer, but you may not see many that are this FUN.

FINAL RATING: 8/10

REVIEW: Fantastic Four: Rise of The Silver Surfer

WARNING: This review contains plot spoilers about an infuriatingly shitty movie.

SECONDARY WARNING: Yes, I said shitty. This is a negative review. However, I saw it at a public midnight showing and have the ticket stub to prove it, so sorry 20th Century Fox - you're PROBABLY not gonna be able to track me down and get me fired from my job, which is apparently what you do to people who give you're shitty movies the shitty reviews they deserve. Lemme add my voice to Mr. McWeeney's... http://www.aintitcool.com/?q=node/32968 ...and agree wholeheartedly that you can go fuck yourselves.

My "joke" poster from 2 months ago.

I've seldom been so sad to have been right.

Galactus is a cloud.

There, that's out of the way. Hey, if you're a fan, that's a BIG reason you're reading an early blog review, no? We were all hoping, we all read the rumors, we all continued hoping. They couldn't REALLY do it, could they? Granted, we'd already borne witness to director Tim Story and company making a shambling mockery of Doctor Doom, one of comics' greatest antagonists, in the last movie, but even they wouldn't do this. Even men guilty of "Taxi" could not be filled with such a black-hole in place of a soul it would take to put to film one of the all-time defining story arcs from the Stan Lee/Jack Kirby age and with it one of the most landmark-important "big idea" concept-characters EVER... and then completely drain it of all that made it great.

Galactus is a CLOUD.

But that's exactly what they've done. "Fantastic Four: Rise of The Silver Surfer" takes one of the most iconic elements - not only of the Fantastic Four, but of the entire Marvel Comics canon - and reduces it to the dullest, most-dissapointing, most generic, most anti-climactic form it could possibly take. Congratulations, Mr. Story and friends: You have given Movie Geeks a reference-of-loathing worthy of replacing "nipples on the batsuit." Be proud.

NOTHING remotely resembling this

appears in this film. Because life sucks.

...And, on top of that, the rest of the movie sucks, too.

Galactus is a CLOUD.

Oh, it's better than the first one. Not by much, but enough that it can be safely called only the second worst of the Marvel movie output. All the same things that didn't work the first time still don't work here: Iaon Gruffud still looks goofy with his dyed-gray temples, and the FX used to create his Mr. Fantastic stretching powers are still distractingly shoddy-looking. Jessica Alba still can't act, still doesn't have much of a character to TRY acting in, and the cheesy hair and eye augmentations employed to turn the half-Latina "actress" into an Aryan housefrau are awful looking. The Thing still looks more like he's made out of Nerf instead of stone. Chris Evan's too-cool-for-school schtick as Johnny "Human Torch" Storm still grates and gets too much screentime. Julian McMahon is still a chronic dissapointment as the mincing, not-the-least-bit-intimidating Doctor Doom. Tim Story still can't seem to deliver a single scene, action or otherwise, that doesn't look like a sample page from "Generic Action Movies 101." The script is still a plodding, episodic jumble.

Galactus is a CLOUD.

Our story, this time around: The oft-delayed wedding of Reed "Mr. Fantastic" Richards and Sue "Invisible Woman" Storm is interupted by an alien invasion. The invader in question is Silver Surfer (name kinda says it all, and the characters all roll their eyes and groan when it first comes up so you know - as if there were any doubt at this point - exactly what the filmmakers think of the material) a being of tremendous energy who's visits to a planet invariably means it will be destroyed and consumed within eight days by Galactus, a giant sentient storm could from space. The Four are tasked to help stop the threat by a standard-issue big-meanie Army General (Andre "what he HELL am I doing in this?" Braugher) who's also accepted personal help from a surprising source: Doctor Doom.

Galactus is a CLOUD

Oh, yeah... um, Doctor Doom is back. Turned into a block of melted steel at the end of the first film, (don't remember? lucky you) for some reason he was crated up and shipped back to his decrepit-looking ancestral manor in Latveria, where a casual fly-by Silver Surfer for some reason wakes him up. Somehow, despite having been a block of melted steel for a year, he has a henchman hanging around to help him get up on his feet. Where'd he get the henchman? Why does Surfer awaken him? Why send the melted-steel remains of a dangerous criminal back to said criminal's abandoned house? Who knows, the movie doesn't have time to explain. What it DOES have time to do is engineer a scenario by which getting zapped by Surfer turns Doctor Doom back into a normal-looking human. That's right, fans: you're hope of a more "traditional" Doom this time around were all for naught: It's just Julian McMahon hamming it up in a black suit again, only donning his "Doom Armor" look for the final action scene. Hey, why should they start getting it right now?

GALACTUS IS A CLOUD.

Some other things it has time for: A second act dominated by the sub-sitcom antics of the Four hanging around the house. An irritatingly sexist subplot about Sue being depressed over how superheroing is interfering with her wedding planning (seriously, what the hell? In the next movie will they have her cheesed off at The Mole Man for causing her to burn a meatloaf? Giving the Inhumans a peice of her mind for trampling her daffodils?) A nauseating product-placement joke for "Dodge." A pathetic attempt at political subtext where the big-meanie Army Guys are slobbering at the chance to put Silver Surfer through some Abu-Ghraib-style interrogation (ooooh, edgy! Sure you guys don't wanna throw some Paris Hilton jokes in there too, since you're so clever and trendy?) And Tim Story's unquestionable peice-de-resistance of bastardization: Mr. Fantastic tearin' up the floor in a rubber-limbed dance sequence. Jazz Club Scene from "Spider-Man 3..." you are forgiven. You are sooooooooo friggin' forgiven.

GALACTUS IS A CLOUD!

Oh, and the title character? He's a wooden bore. It's a nifty-enough effect, and the image of a silver humanoid alien flying around on a surfboard retains the pop-art coolness that Jack Kirby imbued it with initially, but as a character? He's a wash, right down to the one-note Lawrence Fishburne voicover. And they want to build a whole MOVIE off of him?

GALACTUS IS A FUCKING CLOUD!

This could easily end up being the worst film of the entire summer, a dissapointment even when compared to the original and the lowered expectations it invites. It looks dull, plays safe, and is afraid to offer anything remotely cool or unique. If there's a mistake that can be made, it makes it: It spends an entire movie building up the arrival of a "big bad" that turns out to be a giant dust cloud. Given a bad guy who can either be A.) an armored fiend in a flowing cloak or B.) a douchebag in a suit, it goes with B for 90% of the film. It hands most of the screentime to bad "comedy" skits. It hands two HUGE dramatic scenes entirely to Jessica Alba, who I doubt could believably emote if you executed a loved one in front of her and said "try to look like some form of unhappy."

THEY MADE GALACTUS INTO A FUCKING CLOUD!

Do not go see this movie. And if you DO go see this movie, try to buy a ticket for something else so they don't get the boxoffice credit. "Fantastic Four: Rise of The Silver Surfer" is a crushing, loathsome dissapointment on every concievable level.

Have I mentioned... THEY MADE GALACTUS INTO A FUCKING CLOUD!!??

FINAL RATING: 3/10

COMING ATTRACTIONS: THE STUFF

CLASS OF 1999

TYPICAL REVIEW

"Even though this violent indie film has "exploitation" stamped all over it--with its gratuitous car chases, shootouts, and anarchistic characters--it is a guilty pleasure." - Bryan Reesman, Amazon.Com

THE PLOT

It's 1999 and teenage violence has escalated to the point that many inner city schools are now located inside free-fire zones, areas controlled by teenage street gangs which even the police refuse to enter. In a last ditch effort to "educate" the children, the principle of Kennedy High (Malcom McDowell!) contracts with Megatech's department of educational defense to supply robotic teachers (including Pam Grier!!) capable of dealing with the more troublesome students. Of course, what the head of Megatech (Stacy Keach as an albino with a rattail haircut!!!) conveniently forgets to mention is that these are in fact de-commissioned combat androids loaded with nifty built-in weapon systems like flame throwers and grenade launchers. It's not long before the rebellious kids provoke the terminat..., er, robots into reactivating their military protocols. As the student body count rises, bad boy Cody and good girl Christie try to end the gang war and rally the kids in a last ditch effort to destroy the (and I quote) "three inhuman teaching monsters".

THE POINT

Director/writer Mark L. Lester first visited the hazardous hallways of high school in the exploitation cult classic Class Of 1984. In that film, one lone teacher tries desperately to free Abraham Lincoln High from the grips of the drug-dealing punk rock gang terrorizing its faculty and students. The struggle escalates until the punks finally cross the line and rape his wife, at which point the teacher goes all Death Wish on the gang and dispatches them in gory fashion. Fans of the revenge genre loved it, others despised it. Roger Ebert summed it all up in his review, "Class of 1984 is raw, offensive, vulgar, and violent, but it contains the sparks of talent and wit, and it is acted and directed by people who cared to make it special." Needless to say, its reputation guaranteed an eventual sequel.

Eight years later by real world time, fifteen by the movie's, Lester went back to school with the Class of 1999. But, having pretty much mined the homicidal student vein for all it was worth in the previous film, Lester apparently felt the need to do something to spice things up this second go around. And the tried and true method for doing this in a sequel, which Lester unashamedly adopts, is to amp up the elements which made the first film successful (or abhorrent depending on your tastes). In other words, there's more violence in Class of 1999 than in most other two movies combined. Joe Bob Briggs gives the following tally; "Forty-two dead bodies. Two motor vehicle chases, with one crash and burn, one crash and plunge. Neck-snapping. Fireballs. Arm-ripping. Skull-drilling. Terminal spanking. Flaming supporting actor. Brutal push-ups. Student cut in half. Puke-a-rama. Six fistfights. Attempted rape. Kung Fu. Junkie Fu. Robot Fu. Forklift Fu." And that's AFTER the film was reportedly edited and resubmitted to the MPAA 9 times before finally being granted an R rating instead of an X.

But you can get all that from a Scorsese movie. The real draw here is, of course, the terminator-like educators. And what jolly old souls they are too. Seriously, whether they're spanking a student at super-speed or punching a hole through Stacy Keach's stomach (which inadvertently proves that route IS the way to a man's heart), these things just never stop laughing. And when the robots light-heartedly flip through the driver's manual in search of traffic violations to pin on Cody while trying to run him over, well, you just have to laugh with them. Still, in the end, you have to wonder just why the military would commission killing machines with an inappropriate sense of humor to begin with.

At first, the cartoonish level of violence and presence of the androids seem to distance this film from the heightened realism of its predecessor. But in its day, people scoffed at some of the visuals in Class of 1984 too. New York Times critic Vincent Canby wrote "when you see students having to pass through a metal-detecting device to get into the school, 'Class of 1984' is sort of crudely funny." You have to wonder how funny Canby still found that image when in 1994 the federal government began requiring school safety programs in an attempt to crack down on school violence, programs which included metal detectors in many schools, even my old alma mater. (Insert your own all-to-easy joke about the quality of Times writers here.) That's not to say we should expect maniacal military robots to pop up in our high schools anytime soon, just that we shouldn't so quickly dismiss any underlying themes or messages in the film just because the premise is a little out there.

And what could a movie which features Foxy Brown ripping open her chest to expose a bunch of sprockets and plastic tubing possibly have to say to us? Well, if you view the two Class movies as bookends, there does seem to be some progression of thought going on (intended or not). In the first film we see a breakdown of the social order where those in authority (the police and the school administration) fail to address the gang problem. One lone teacher realizes his only hope is to take action against the students himself. In the follow-up film, the problem has escalated to outlandish proportions and the authorities are forced to respond. But the response ends up being just as evil as the authorities institute totalitarian solutions. In the end, just like in the first movie, it is up to a single individual to find a middle ground and bring resolution to the problem. Whether we agree with Class of 1999's philosophy or not, we have to admit that it represents a maturing in the series' consideration of the problem even as it stays consistent with the first film's original statement on the solution.

We practice this combination of change and consistency in the Church as well as in movies. The Catechism states that "Tradition (the apostolic preaching which is preserved in a continuous line of succession) is to be distinguished from the various theological, disciplinary, liturgical or devotional traditions, born in the local churches over time. These are the particular forms, adapted to different places and times, in which the great Tradition is expressed. In the light of Tradition, these traditions can be retained, modified or even abandoned under the guidance of the Church's Magisterium." A simple example of this idea is the practice of the Mass on Sundays. While the early Church kept the idea of a weekly communal worship service as absolutely necessary, it had no problem changing the centuries old Jewish day of worship from Saturday to Sunday in order to distinguish itself from traditional Judaism as well as honor the day on which Jesus was resurrected. God's requirement for his people to gather together was an unchangeable truth, the day of the week however had some flexibility. This is what John Henry Cardinal Newman called the Development of Doctrine at its most basic.

Which brings up the obvious question, what must stay the same and what can be changed in the Church? Though not a Catholic, C. S. Lewis provided a simple but effective guideline when he wrote that "change is not progress unless the core remains unchanged. A small oak grows into a big oak; if it became a beech, that would not be growth, but mere change." With all of the hot button topics (women's ordination, married clergy, same-sex unions, etc.) being argued over in the Church right now, it would be nice if the discussions revolved around what does and does not represent unchangeable core teachings. Instead we get nutty stuff like Soulforce's 2001 open letter to the USCCB with a paragraph which reads "According to the book Roman Catholicism in America by Chester Gillis, 88% of Catholics in 1993 believed that contraception was a matter of personal moral judgment. Obviously the hierarchy's teachings on "natural law" are not a dogma accepted by the laity, which Cardinal Newman referred to as "the believing Church." When the Church refuses to listen to the "believing church," Cardinal Newman went on to say, it loses its authority to teach." In other words, at least in this part of the letter, Soulforce argues for theology by popular opinion rather than consistent teaching, and even tries to back it up with a quote from Newman. (sigh) Maybe it really is time to round everybody up and put them back in the classroom. Somebody send in the robots.

THE STINGER

Since the Church teaches that the Magisterium, enlightened by the Holy Spirit, will forever faithfully preserve the unchangeable Traditions, then we have to accept that the allowable changes in tradition (with a small t) implemented in Vatican II in no way contradict the core teachings of the Church. Which means stuff like wearing veils to mass, ringing a bell during the consecration of the host, and (sob) using Latin are all entirely optional. Still, the theology professor Christine Gudorf writes that “our ability to make sense of our world and of our relationships with others, even to understand ourselves, requires a certain degree of continuity in all of these. Both change and continuity are constants in our lives, and both are necessary for individuals and communities.” In short, while some things must necessarily change, it is the things that stay the same which actually give relevance and meaning to the here and now. So, would it really kill anyone to let those of us who want it have a little better access to Latin or even, dare I say it, Gregorian chant?

Holy. Mother. Of. GOD.

Evidence recently brought to my attention by the good folks at Chud.com indicates that South Korea may be attempting to created - or may have already CREATED - the best movie ever made. It's allegedly called "D-War," an apparent shorthand for "Dragon Wars." Evidence in support of it being, in fact, the best movie ever made, is indicated by the fact that it is advertising itself via the best POSTER ever made:

Here is a trailer for the potential best movie ever made, featuring what I'm told is unfinished (but still pretty impressive-looking) CGI... of MASSIVE FUCKING FUEDAL-ERA BATTLES BETWEEN ARMIES OF KNIGHTS RIDING ON BIG, VARIED DINOSAUR LIKE FUCKING DRAGONS AND A HUGE FUCKING COBRA-DRAGON-SAURUS MONSTER COILING UP A FUCKING SKYSCRAPPER!!!!!!



Ahem. Um... here's another one, with what I'm told (and looks to be) "fresher" CGI:



As of right now, my new reason to live is to see this movie.

Teen karate student fights off burglar with samurai sword

Hat-tip to Kotaku.
http://www.local10.com/news/13466229/detail.html

The important parts:

Last Friday afternoon, Damian Fernandez and his 15-year-old sister, Deanne Fernandez, were home alone at their northwest Miami-Dade County home while their parents were at work when they heard knocking on the front door. Moments later, two men were prying the front door unlocked, prompting Deanne to hide in her closet.

As her brother slept in the next room, the burglars ransacked their parents' room, taking some jewelry before moving on to what they were really after -- a PlayStation 3.

"Once I saw him take off running back, I jumped off my (bunk) bed and I grabbed my sword … and I just waited for him," he said. Damian said he lunged at him with his samurai sword, striking him in the chest.

"He freaked out," Damian said.

The burglar ran out of the house with Damian chasing him down the road. When police arrived, a K-9 officer located the burglar hiding behind a neighbor's palm tree. The second burglar got away."

I have a profound desire for the ability to email this story to myself fourteen years ago so that 12 Year-Old Bob would FINALLY have an airtight argument for mom as to why he should absolutely be allowed to own functional feudal Japanese weaponry.

What I love is that it's not like a samurai sword is some commonly-owned tool for brown-belt karate students - he just happened to own a samurai sword. This kid is my effing hero for the next 24 hours, at least.

COMING ATTRACTIONS: CLASS OF 1999

I can't find a trailer for this one, or even a decent poster for that matter. Aren't they proud of their achievement?

REVIEW: Hostel: Part II

SPOILER WARNING

It'd be interesting to find out what really scares Eli Roth.

I say that because, as most horror filmmakers are out to scare their audience and tend to start from a place that scares them, Roth seems to be an anomally: The first horror-specialist in a long time who's (thus far) openly focused on the most literal interpretation of the job: His films are designed to horrify, not scare. Being scary is all about the unexpected, sudden shock/surprise, and so far Roth is all about the slow, meticulous buildup to a nightmarish event he's already shown us coming.

This isn't a criticism, just an observation: Roth is a gorehound, and the "Hostel" movies are FOR gorehounds. He's expertly structured them to provide just-at-the-right-moment mixes of guiltily-fascinating "I can't BELIEVE they just DID THAT!!!" brutality inflicted ON the victims and cathartic "Yyyyyeah! Get that bastard!!!" revenge brutality inflicted BY the victims; all of it imagined with the kind of perverse creativity that the Fangoria crowd can't get enough of.

The first "Hostel" introduced us to "Elite Hunting," a shadowy organization that kidnapped disposable tourists in Slovakia from a Hostel "front" and locked them into cells in some abandoned Eastern Bloc factory, where wealthy clients paid big bucks for the chance to mutilate, torture and kill them in any manner they saw fit. #2 offers more of the same, but with a more immediately-compelling set of victims-to-be and a broader look at how "Elite Hunting" operates.

Right off the bat: What's going to make or break the endurance-factor for a lot of veiwers this time around is the new lineup of leads. The original film was willing to let it's audience off the "hook," to an extent, in the vicarious enjoyment department by making the bodies-to-be a trio of oversexed American frat boys - i.e., in the movie-verse, guys who're "kinda asking for it" just by existing. This time around, though, he's not going to let you off so clean: The "fresh meat" are three traveling female art students.

How far does he plan on taking the "screw with you" factor here? One of the three is played by Heather Matarazzo, best remembered as "Weinerdog" from "Welcome to The Dollhouse," and lets face it... you'd have to be a pretty depraved son of a bitch to WANT to see something eye-poppingly ghastly happen to Heather Matarazzo. Er... for the record? Eli Roth: One depraved son of a bitch, it turns out... Ahem. The other two more-prominent leads are a sensible rich-girl (Jordan Ladd) and Bijou Philips as a party-girl who has chosen to ignore every single "how not to die in a horror movie" rule.

As with the first film, Roth is out to turn genre cliches against themselves: In an Eli Roth movie, being free of movie-sin is the OPPOSITE of a get-out-alive-free pass. In fact, he takes a visible pleasure in the "surprise" of putting the most sympathetic characters through the most shiver-inducing slashings.

The ick-factor is furthered by following a seperate, paralell storyline: The day-before adventures of a pair of white collar American "power tie" guys on their way to an Elite Hunting holiday. One is hoping to gain an aura of board-room power from the act of murder, while the other is mainly blowing off steam about his domineering wife. The cast MIGHT be too on the nose here, as both of them look like the picture-perfect image of preening upscale-suburban douchebaggery - or, in shorthand, they're both dead ringers for Mitt Romney.

The bottom line is, you already know whether or not you're going to see this, and if you ARE then you probably already know the point is to go in and be repulsed-yet-transfixed by the horrors being done to the good guys, with the payoff being that eventually at least ONE of the good guys will "strike back" with even GREATER horror which you can then enjoy without shame. We KNOW Roth is going to deliver on this, so whether or not he does isn't the question. Of course he does.

The important question is, aside from visceral thrill of the thing, how is it otherwise? Short version: Pretty damn good. Roth knows his way around formula, which means he also knows exactly where a curveball as to who's capable of what and why will be best suited. He knows what his audience wants to see, and thus what they aren't expecting to see (the two "big" kill scenes of the film will be talked about by genres fans for YEARS, including one which openly breaks one of film's oldest and silliest taboos.) And, when necessary, he knows that sometimes a classic never goes out of style: An early interlude involving a (seemingly) rare female Elite Hunter who seems to be emulating a certain Euro-horror staple character should put a (guilty) grin on the face of more than a few genre afficionados... until, of course, they realize what it means they're about to be shown.

FINAL RATING: 7/10

The new header

Do you like the new header? I like the new header. And it's my Blog, so it stays. Mostly, it's there because I just figured out how to put a big-ass picture there.

For the record, counterclockwise: The One Ring, Old Glory, James Cagney, Mario, Robocop, Crow T. Robot, Devon Aoki, Spider-Man, Kate Winslet and Godzilla.

DUNGEONS & DRAGONS: WRATH OF THE DRAGON GOD

TYPICAL REVIEW

"A cheap jack, shot in Lithuania with an affordable unknown cast, direct-to-video sequel to one of the decade’s biggest flops is actually pretty darn enjoyable. " - David Cornelius, eFilmCritic.Com

THE PLOT

100 years have passed since the first Dungeons & Dragons movie (just long enough so that both the viewers and the characters mercifully don't have to give it much thought) and all is going pretty well with the kingdom of Ismir. At least until the villainous Damodar (the only character worth bringing back from part one), finally freed from the curse of the undead, reappears with a plan to rain vengeance on the city. Using a magical black orb, Damodar intends to awaken Faluzure, the dragon deity of energy draining, undeath, decay, and exhaustion, so that the monster can do that voodoo that he do so well. Forewarned, the rulers of Ismir assemble a team of five champions to find the orb, overcome Damodar, and defeat the dragon god. And all that's just the setup in the first five minutes; after that it really gets complicated.

THE POINT

Before Nintendo dropped the first NES on the world in 1985, Role Playing Games (RPGs) like Dungeons & Dragons ruled the gaming industry with players numbering over 20 million. According to a recent BBC news article that number has fallen to around 3 to 4 million, which is a staggering drop, but still leaves enough people to make RPGs a $2.5 billion dollar a year business and provide a sizable ready made audience for a movie bearing the D&D brand name. Unfortunately, the first attempt to cash in on the game was 2000's Dungeons and Dragons, a movie so painful to watch that I can hardly bear to even mention it. (If you feel the need to self-flagellate and just have to know more about that film you can head over to Rotten Tomatoes and wallow in the glory that is its 11% approval rating.) Instead, we're taking a look at the sequel, which turns out to be a different story altogether in more than one way.

First off, thanks to the one hundred year jump in movie time, Wrath of the Dragon God is viewable as a stand alone film. There's no need to watch anything like, say, some other preexisting film you'd rather forget nearly scarred you for life. And Second (and more importantly), unlike that other film I'm loathe to mention again, Wrath of the Dragon God is enjoyable in its own modest, retro way. This movie is, quite appropriately, a throwback to those old 80s style sword and sorcery flicks which were themselves inspired by the success of the D&D game to begin with.

What this means is that you get good guys who are heroes in the old sense, honorable men and women who accept a mission and see it through no matter the cost. There's not one single brooding tortured semi-sociopath on the roster. Neither are the bad guys misunderstood or possibly right, they're just rotten scumbags who deserve a butt kicking. There's a kingdom that needs saving, an adventure filled quest to find the object that will save it, and a mad dash to get the object back home with only seconds to spare. All of the old fantasy clichés are here, but without the self-aware smugness and excruciating attempts at irony that have sullied so many current fantasy films, especially that one I dare not mention anymore for fear of doing myself mental harm. Sure, Wrath's budget hurts a little. The acting is entry-level and most of the effects look like they came off some graphic design student's MacBook, but none of it is a real deal killer. You're not likely to pick up a movie like this expecting the depth and quality of Lord of the Rings anyway. But if you dig the likes of Beastmaster, Deathstalker, Krull, etc., you'll feel right at home in this movie.

While it's true that Wrath of the Dragon God can be enjoyed by the casual fantasy fan, the film goes out of its way to give winks and nods to those viewers who have actually played Dungeons & Dragons. (And yes, back in the day I was among those 20 million. Geek credentials assured, I now move on.) There are references to old adventures like Expedition to The Barrier Peaks and The Ghost Tower of Inverness. There are recognizable monsters like the color-coded dragons and the squid-like Darkmantles. There's cool loot like the Gem of True Seeing and the Ring of the Ram. And best of all, the heroes all have recognizable character classes with appropriate skills and abilities. I'm majorly geeking out right now remembering all those Thursday nights spent rolling dice, planning strategies, and just plain hanging out with good friends.

I'm sure there's more than one reason video games siphoned off so many players from RPGs. Video games have pictures and sound, they can be played alone, and let's face it, they’re not quite as associated with being a “geek” as RPGs are. But if I was forced to pinpoint one thing in particular, I'd have to say it's all of the blasted rules in RPGs. As one article put it, “the biggest game in the field…Dungeons & Dragons…grew into a mass of consistent and inconsistent rules, explained in as many as fourteen different hardcover rulebooks.” Fourteen! Start making video games that require fourteen rulebooks, and I’ll show you a bunch of kids who put down their gamepads, turn off their TVs and go outside to play ball. Most people hate having too many rules.

Except for, maybe, the ancient Jews.

According to written Jewish tradition, The Torah (our Old Testament) contains 613 precepts, or practical rules, that are derived from the original 10 commandments, and instruct the Jews on how to lead a holy life. (There are more rules in the oral tradition, but we’ll stick with the 613 written ones for now.) By the time Jesus came along, the Pharisees, the Jewish sect that emphasized strict interpretation and observance of the Law, had arranged these precepts into 248 “thou shalt” commandments and 365 “thou shalt not” prohibitions. There were even rule sets such as the Kashrut which instructed the Jews on what they could and could not eat. Most of us are familiar with a few of these guidelines such as no eating meat at the same time as dairy products or no eating pork at all. But most modern people, even a large number of Jews, have gotten the idea that the Kashrut were simply primitive health regulations that don’t apply since we invented things like the refrigerator. And it’s true that some of the dietary laws do have healthy benefits, but that’s not really the reason behind the Kashrut. Or any of the other rules for that matter.

In his book "To Be a Jew", Rabbi Hayim Halevy Donin suggests that the Kashrut are meant to be a call to holiness. “The ability to distinguish between right and wrong, good and evil, pure and defiled, the sacred and the profane, is very important in Judaism. Imposing rules on what you can and cannot eat ingrains that kind of self control, requiring us to learn to control even our most basic, primal instincts.” As good Catholic boys and girls we should recognize this same principle behind some of our own practices during Lent.

The problem was that the Pharisees in Jesus' time had become focused primarily on performing these external practices perfectly while apparently giving little attention to the inner reality the rules were supposed to be pointing to. In short, they had adopted the attitude that the rituals mattered more to God than what was going on inside the hearts of his people. But, as Jesus correctly points out when questioned in Matthew 22 on what is the greatest commandment, the Law was founded upon the internal attitudes of love (charity) which were required to be present within a person’s heart. From the two most basic of commandments to love God and to love mankind, all the other 600+ regulations stem. The Pharisees knew this, but forgot it. I have to admit that sometimes, as a Catholic who prefers and argues for many of the Church's older devotions and rituals, I have to be careful not to do the same.

THE STINGER

We Catholics are no strangers to memorizing rules. In its final version, the old Baltimore Catechism had 1,274 questions and answers, many of which the students had to learn by heart before being allowed to receive confirmation. This probably seems a little frightening to today’s post-Vatican II generation, but in its day it was highly effective in training Catholics to respond to the over-zealous evangelizing of their Protestant neighbors who considered Catholics to be “mindless” followers of the Pope with no real knowledge of Scripture or doctrine.

The potential problem of this type of Q & A instruction is the same one we see with the Pharisees in Matthew 22. The catechist can become so focused on making sure the student knows “what” all the right answers are that they forget to examine “why” they are the right answers. In today’s cultural climate, “why” something is the right answer is more important than ever. On issues like abortion, assisted suicide, the death penalty, social justice, and even the environment, rational intelligent people (who never seem to make it on the TV talk shows) can look at the same set of facts and reach entirely different conclusions based on their experience, worldview, and preconceptions. Merely parroting the Church’s view on such issues will never convince anyone of the “rightness” of the Church’s position, we have to be able to explain the “why”.

Jodie Foster IS: "THE PUNISHER!!!!"

So much of Jodie Foster's acting career has been defined by the concept of "strong women" characters - not "strong" in the character sense but in the literal: She specializes in "you ain't gonna push me around just cuz I'm female AND teeny-tiny!" roles, and it's mostly paid off for her... well, okay, "Contact," "Anna & The King" and "Flightplan" all really, really, really, REALLY sucked... but she's not that bad in most of them.

Unfortunately for her, no novelty (even those backed up by actual talent) lasts forever. In a movie-world where 'tuff-chicks' are now a Hollywood staple and every other week is bringing us a new Lara Croft, Elektra, G.I. Jane, Ultra-Violet, Storm, Trinity, Domino, etc; a movie-world where the women of "Kill Bill," "Crouching Tiger" or "Dead or Alive" are vaulting through the air killing armies armed men with a single sword... well, these days simply donning an asexual pantsuit, minimal makeup, a "business-bob" haircut and delivering all your lines in a clipped "loud-whisper" just doesn't seem like as much of a revolutionary act as it used to.

I'd posit this situation has more than a little something to do with how little we see of Foster these days, and almost everything to do with some of the baffling "action grrrrl" parts we HAVE seen her in: Just a little over a year ago, she was making a fool of herself in the Die Hard knockoff, "Flightplan," and now we have the eye-poppingly cheesey trailer for the awful-looking "The Brave One," which finds Foster in - I shit you not - an unofficial remake of "Death Wish" in the Charles Bronson role of an ordinary person turned into a gun-toting, mugger-slaying vigilante who ends the trailer by pointing a gun right at the camera, spitting out a catchphrase and firing into a white-screen fadeout. No, seriously, that's what happens. Take a look:



"Yeah... I WANT MY DOG BACK!!!!" BLAM! You gotta be freakin' kidding me. Lookout, criminal scum! Nell's comin' to kick your ass!

REVIEW: Mr. Brooks

Minor Spoilers

Popular culture has been full of fictional serial-killers that we "like" since before the term "serial-killer" technically existed, everything from penny-dreadfuls to early B-movies were chock full of perversely-fascinating heavies doing their wicked deeds for our vicarious enjoyment. Implicit in this was a certain moral trade-off: We would 'enjoy' the fun of temporarily inhabiting the psyche of a monster so long as we never fully lost sight of the MONSTER part. We allow ourselves to "like" Hannibal Lecter, for example, because he's slick and clever and interesting... but he's not "likable." He's a prick, a snobby elitist who's cannibalism M.O. (in the macro sense) is basically just WASPy Social Darwinism carried to a ridiculous extreme. Likewise, Freddy Krueger's engaging "hack comedian" persona comes hitched to his "child murderer" background, Patrick "American Psycho" Bateman is ALSO a Wall Street creep, etc.

"Mr. Brooks," however, is trying something completely different - setting up both as it's star AND audience-perspective character a titular murderer who's not only able-to-be-liked... he's actually LIKABLE. Earl Brooks (Kevin Costner) is a self-made white-collar CEO, living a happy life in the Midwestern suburbs. He's a faithful, genuinely-loving husband, a profoundly understanding father, an honest businessman and all around super guy: Charming and sophisticated but also human and approachable. He's got no temper, deals with everything reasonably, never raises his voice in anger and doesn't even seem to know any curse words. There's literally nothing wrong with Earl Brooks...

...with the noteworthy exception that Earl Brooks is ALSO the "Thumbprint Killer," an as-of-yet uncaptured serial-slayer who likes to gun down copulating couples in their homes, pose and photograph the bodies and then vanish with such alarming precision that forensics teams joke about the victims being "killed by a ghost." Brooks is "accompanied" on his excursions by a prodding imaginary friend named Marshall (William Hurt,) but this is no actions-excusing "schizophrenic" cop-out: Brooks is totally aware of his actions and in full control, while Marshall functions primarily as a sort of "anti-conscience" egging Brooks on toward decisions he's eventually going to make anyway.

Brooks regards his "murder habit" as an addiction, one he's ashamed of and recently been trying to kick by half-truthing his way through AA meetings (how nice of a guy is Mr. Brooks? He not only goes to the meetings, he volunteers to help clean up afterwards.) The attempt at cold-turkey gets sidetracked, though, by an unfortunate confluence of events: A self-styled "supercop" (a shockingly-bearable Demi Moore) is on the hunt for "Thumbprint" and seems VERY capable of actually catching him, the Brooks' daughter has just dropped out of college and arrived home carrying some unpleasant secrets (one easy to guess, the others... not so much,) and most-pressingly: A sleazy voyeur (Dane Cook, his easy-to-despise nature HELPING for a change) has snapped some photos of Brooks in the act of murder and is actively blackmailing him - but not for money, he wants Brooks to mentor him in the fine art of human-hunting.

Oh, and Moore's policewoman comes with almost a whole other movie's worth of subplots unto herself: Her cretin ex-husband is legally harassing her and another serial killer aside from Brooks just broke out of prison on a mission to hunt her down (there may or may not be a third killer roaming around as well... but that would be telling.)

All this would seem to make "Mr. Brooks" yet another Summer-of-07 movie suffering from gratuitous plot-bloat, until it settles into it's deliberately-paced groove and reveals itself more akin to an elaborate timepiece: After carefully setting up Earl Brooks' seemingly ninja-level skills as a stealth serial-murderer and impenetrable likability as.. well, everything ELSE, it drops him deliberately into a twisting, booby-trapped maze of a plot - and not only will we get to see if Brooks The Killer is super-slick enough to escape, we'll also get the slightly naughty thrill of rooting for Brooks The SuperDad to succeed.

There's a really, really strange alchemy going on here, mixing a very "movie-world" handful of supervillian slayers, "Lifetime"-ish family drama and even a little tuff-chick-cop B-movie riffing thrown in for good measure; and the whole enterprise is hinging on Costner's central performance. Lucky for us, he nails it, tweaking his natural All-American "ordinary-ness" just enough to turn Earl Brooks into easily one of the best acting turns of his career. Less experienced (or maybe just less disciplined) actors would likely take this as a chance to go over the top, or indulge in schticky "evil suburban stiff" silliness, but Costner plays it straight and subtle: Brooks is interesting because he's not interesting. He owns a box factory. His big non-murder hobby? Pottery. Even as a serial-killer, he's strictly vanilla: No fancy weapon, no symbolism-laden mask, he's just a plain ol' shooter (though thanks to Costner's sharp senses as a physical actor, Brooks ends up looking as cool as one can possibly look with a plastic-bag zip-tied over one's pistol-hand.)

What we've got here is a sicko slasher premise plotted-out in the manner of a off-beat "grownup" drama, like the movie equivalent of a "Slipknot" lyric sheet that somehow wound up being recorded by James Taylor instead. Hell, to carry the music analogy even further, it reminds me of the innevitable moment when a metal band jumps the shark by bringing in a symphony orchestra: Yeah, we all know it's the height of silliness.. but on the other hand, "November Rain" is a pretty good song. In the end, it boils down to campy sleight-of-hand, but it wrings it's premise and it's cast for every drop their worth and comes up with something that's tremendously watchable and even marvelous at points, with an abundance of satisfying moments and at least one "HOLY SHITBALLS!!!!" shocker.

How much plainer can I be, folks? GO SEE THIS MOVIE.

FINAL RATING: 9/10

COMING ATTRACTIONS: DUNGEONS & DRAGONS: WRATH OF THE DRAGON GOD

There is an extremely short trailer here, but you'll get a much better idea of what this movie has in store for you here.