Reviews

Ouch.

One must wonder who's idea it was to have Pamela Anderson essentially play Rick from Casablanca in a Mad Max/Escape from New York futuristic wasteland.

Boy, i wish i partook of the drugs that must have circulated through that room!

Anyway, Pam does her best to channel Snake Plissken. Udo Kier is creepy and cool, as usual. The soundtrack leaves much to be desired, as does the horrendous editing. If only they had a few more real actors in the room, this one could have been a load of fun.

Or maybe they could've gotten John Carpenter...

while my comments may seem very negative, i'd like to firmly state that this is a decent film. i enjoyed this movie, but was disappointed it wasn't nearly as languid, deliberate or striking as the short. i found another cute indie-comedy with protracted, contrived melodrama and a dull, formulaic plot. heavy touches of lost in translation and napoleon dynamite abound, but none of the brio or idiosyncrasy of these superior pictures.

in my opinion, mr. ellis would have been well served enlisting the help of an additional screenwriter, or at least taking a little more time to flesh the thing out. i thought the short 'cashback' was outstanding, but the feature unfortunately half-baked.

i'll just wait for 'cashback 2: the nude express line' in 2008. perhaps in this sequel the somnolent lead actor will emerge from his coma.

Even a luminous performance from the routinely sublime Peter Sellers can't lift this overstuffed foray into psychedelic cinema by master-director John Huston up from beneath the insurmountable weight of myriad red lights and filters, stylized kaleidoscope cuts and schizophrenic structure and pacing.

Too bad, because as a series of vignettes this is a very entertaining film. The stars (tons of them, by the way!) are all very funny and engaging, particularly David Niven, Woody Allen, and Deborah Kerr. Burt Baccarach's score is punishing after a few hours, but it certainly seems appropriate. Huston even shows shades of the steady camera work and nuanced direction (Welles displays terrific eye gestures in his small role) that has typified his brilliant career. Seldom though, do so many nice little parts add up to such a disappointing whole. Bigger is not always better, and sometimes it is a lot worse. By the overblown conclusion to this one, I found myself lusting for silence.

That being said, this film can be very enjoyable. The cast is truly remarkable, even John Huston is very good in his brief performance as 'M'. A bonus star for the cavalcade of sex kittens: bangs, beehives and scanty bikinis! Don't expect too much though, certainly not a Huston-grade effort.

5/10* A headache, but worth it for Sellers!

The above lines are not (only) uttered by young Michael at the beginning of Don Coscarelli's masterpiece PHANTASM, but by young Paul Atriedes at the onset of Frank Herbert's epic and much-emulated sci-fi novel DUNE. The protagonist of each story puts his hand inside a mysterious box (in Dune, the Gom Jabaar) containing excruciating pain. The purpose of such a test is to train the mind to overcome pain, refusal to succumb to the concomitant fear. Coscarelli must have been a fan of the book, for there are numerous references throughout---the local bar is called the Dunes and it's swinging wooden sign features the same type print as the front of the novel Dune. Phantasm doesn't have quite the scope of Dune, but it is the quaint charm of certain 'small' genre productions from the late 70's that endear them so greatly to our hearts (think HALOWEEN- the title songs of these two features are very similar as well).

I was not yet alive in 1977 when AvcoEmbassies saturated the country with advertisements promoting a quirky horror film essential to their own survival. By account of the special features on my DVD copy, midnight sneak previews were hosted by Angus Scrimm- appearing by surprise and in character! I speculate that much of the cult adoration surrounding this title is owed to the successful marketing of the studio. Hell, it certainly would have worked on me!

Acquantances at video stores and film festivals had spoken extremely highly of PHANTASM and it took me a while to secure a copy of the DVD (why is it out of print!?) so when I finally sat down to enjoy it, it faced very high expectations. I was instantly taken by the careful lighting and camera-work, not to mention the terrific score. The acting is spotty---some of the players here probably aren't professionals---but after second and third watches this type of honesty becomes a virtue. That is, if you like the film, of course.

Which I do, immensely. The plot here is ridiculous, and there are numerous flaws throughout, but as far as pure storytelling is concerned, PHANTASM is immaculate. The last half hour of the film goes way over the top, and Michael drinks and drives and carries a gun even though he is 13, but it evinces a place and a time. Ah, the late 70's, when it was OK for kids to drink beer before puberty (BAD NEWS BEARS, anyone?) and every cool teenager had a motorcycle! A time when movies didn't need a believable, or compelling, or 'good' plot to excel.

I think I'll swagger down to the 'Dunes' bar for a few beers. I'll bet I'll get change back from a five....

9/10* There are many reasons to take stars away from this movie, but who's counting?

WOW! The above quote is what the pimp says to his 'ho after she cuts her face on a mask. A prescient utterance indeed!

With a pounding heavy metal score accented by a phenomenal opening track from Dario Argento's band Goblin, DEMONS grips from the onset and never stops, despite a paper- thin plot that appears as if the filmmakers made it up as they went along. As far as campy genre films go, this one is near the top. I don't consider this a B-movie however, as the production is smooth if not polished and the special effects are very well done. Some of the dubbing is atrocious and the acting is way over the top, but the characters are rich and well cast, and this colorful feature has entertained me greatly many a late night.

The capricious nature of this film and its absence of levity call to mind the lighthearted works of John Carpenter (the throbbing keyboard of the aforementioned title track borrows Carpenter's trademark sound). Carpenter also introduces complex characters with little or no background information or explanation: Stevie Wayne, Adrienne Barbeau's character in THE FOG, obviously has a marked past but the only allusions to such are glances at old newspaper clippings and her deadpan utterance "It's nothing but water Stevie, but it sure beats Chicago." The delivery and structure of the dialog here possesses similar elan: the filmmakers seem to embrace that their work is fiction, celebrating the comical and inane. Characters are killed off with reckless abandon without sentimental moments or glib last words...In this type of film it's not about how long you live, but how well you die!

This lack of pretension creates a freedom to enjoy without conceit, appreciable by viewer as well as production staff. This is integral to the success of many genre films that must compensate for light substance with abundances of style. DEMONS carves its niche in my heart largely with 80's pop culture and stereotypes. The actors here play caricatures more than real human roles. Halfway through the film we see coked up punks cruising Berlin in stolen cars. What needs to be said about them that isn't readily seen? They're all demon fodder anyway, right?

8/10* Terrifically entertaining! Best watched late at night.

JACOB'S LADDER is an exceptionally creepy film, very adept at conveying a pervasive sense of impending doom. Credit the film editor with effective segues from one 'reality' to the next as this film bounces between four alternate worlds. There is Jacob pre-Nam with wife and kids, Jacob in Nam, Jacob post-Nam with Jezebel, and the hallucinatory trips occurring in the post-Nam world. This film succeeded for me when it was unclear which of these worlds were real and which were fabricated (if any). With the boundaries of existence blurred, there is ample room for the viewer to make his own conclusions as to what is really happening to Jacob. The camera work and clever direction by Adrian Lyne combine with these story elements to form a very disturbing picture.

Unfortunately, this film becomes too convoluted as it tries to identify and define everything that is going on in the story (ie the mind of Jacob). The last 20 minutes or so of this feature defeated what I was enjoying for the first two hours. A film is a collaboration of talent, each person with their own vision, hoping to streamline it all into a watchable whole. Sometimes there are too many voices. Watching the special features on the DVD, it is clear that some of the flourishes that Mr. Lyne brought to the table were essential (much of the hellish hospital sequence is of his vision), but I feel that too much was said, and it detracts from that whole.

One undeniable virtue of this film is that it was ahead of its time in horror technique. Lyne does retain some of the creepy landscape and ominous shadow staples of horror films, but the frenetic, jumpy camera work is the real backbone of the movie. The "head moving faster than the camera" scenes were terrifying, apropos considering Jacob's own head seems to be moving faster than life. Nearly two decades later I see much of these stylistic elements emulated consistently. It was Lyne's idea that by hinting at the monsters in the shadows, without clearly showing them, would prove more effective because the viewer's imagination could then provide an image of whatever scares them individually. Bravo, Mr. Lyne. Score one for the lost art of subtlety. If only he could have held the same reserve when stumbling through the denouement.

The characterization of the supporting cast is lackluster, with the exception of Danny Aiello's sensational turn as Louis, the 'Oracle' of this film. Were it not for the superb acting of Tim Robbins, I feel this film would have fallen flat as one full of style but short on substance. It is Robbins' acting that grips the viewer, keeping us rapt for two hours, trying to sift through the pieces of a ruined mind to find the truth among the rubble.

Most horror films have hardly any plot at all, and succeed brilliantly in spite of this because they are fun, mindless entertainment. JACOB'S LADDER condescends to be intellectually complete, so it is graded on a tougher scale than other genre efforts. Lyne should have taken the same approach to plot as he did toward visual scares and let the viewer fill in the blanks. Things are scarier that way.

7/10* Recommended. Not perfect, but very good. Great "look", Robbins excels.

Life is dull and oppressive, cast in washed out grays and blues by Tim Burton in THE CORPSE BRIDE. Reminiscent of Burton's BEETLEJUICE, the life of the living pales (literally and figuratively) in comparison to the land of the dead.

Victor (Depp) is thrust into the latter by serendipitous calamity, where bebop skeletons jive among eclectic backgrounds painted in vibrant colors. It is these lush visuals that carry the weight of the film, filling the screen from corner to corner. Also outstanding is the voice acting. Albert Finney's gruff voice is wonderfully befitting of the stout, scowling character it is attached to, and Emily Watson is a good choice to convey wholesome daintiness (notice that her cheeks are the only thing in the living world with color, a cheesy but cute allusion to the 'thing that makes life worth living'). I wonder if Richard E. Grant was cast because of the script's homage to HOW TO GET A HEAD IN ADVERTISING (1986). There are certainly similarities between the Peter Lorre worm rambling in the eponymous character's skull and the talking boil that drives Mr. Grant mad in How To Get A Head.

The basic plot is clever and endearing, and the characters are all solid, if somewhat limited at times. The primary fault I found with this film is that it doesn't approach the glory of THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISMAS, a true classic. The bebop skeleton number is great, but on the whole the songs aren't as good as in The Nightmare. Neither are the characters, the story, the pace or the animation for that matter, perhaps only the voice acting here surpasses its predecessor. That doesn't make this a substandard film though, THE CORPSE BRIDE is very entertaining, and a must see for fans of NIGHTMARE, BEETLEJUICE and Burton in general, but do not expect it to eclipse those prior works.

7/10* RECOMMENDED...Very entertaining, missing something though

If Klaus Kinski were alive today...He would have kicked that grizzly ass!

Werner Herzog, one third of the triumvirate head of New German Cinema, has enjoyed a long and illustrious career galvanized by films dealing with the haughty concept of man suffering under the unflinching weight of his desires (check out the aptly titled BURDEN OF DREAMS). Common themes dealt with include selfishness, oppression, hubris and of course the brutal honesty (or honest brutality) of nature. The story of Timothy Treadwell is so dominated by such virtues/vices, it almost seems as though it were all a prelude to a Herzog film.

Herzog's austere documentary style (one of his earlier documentaries, THE LESSONS OF DARKNESS, is nearly silent except for a haunting Wagner/Stravinsky score) serves the subject matter well. We are left to provide our own judgments on Mr. Treadwell, an ebullient, humorous and (surprisingly) fiercely angry soul on a severely misguided crusade (he was protecting animals in a wildlife refuge!?). After watching a few hours of his video confessionals, it doesn't take a PhD to diagnose that he was severely bipolar.

I expected a polarizing picture with the director painting his subject in contrasting hues. What we get is a surprisingly even portrayal, despite Timothy's violent fluctuation in mood between takes (some even seconds apart). There are no interviews that spout vitriol, although some hate mail is shared. And those in Treadwell's support circle do not try to canonize the man for his actions. They all seem to have basked in the glow of his enthusiasm and sincerity, but nobody seems to have shared his "mission." I feel that they actually seem to acknowledge the error of his ways, short of verbalizing this sentiment. There are no regrets, however, because they all knew this was how the man they loved wanted to go.

Fans of this documentary will be well served to find Richard Proenneke's ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS, a sublime account of one man living entirely alone in Alaska for 30 years. The contrast between himself and Treadwell is astounding. If Proenneke were a god, poor Timmy would probably be the Antichrist! The former filmed his video journal to show his family he was OK, Treadwell's filming was a transparent attempt at notoriety (tv stardom, to be precise, but the term "stardom" seems inappropriate) or at least as a tool to widely spread his message. Proenneke was gentle and appreciative of his new habitat, but he would most certainly shoot a bear if it attacked him. Timmy was so grandiose, i don't think the believed a bear would ever threaten him to the point that such action would be necessary. I quietly speculate how much effort he spent in escaping his final encounter.

Treadwell inevitably perished not because of his hubris or delusions (in one particularly animated scene, he spews profanity proclaiming that he "conquered" the land. Could this have been the beginning of the end for him?) but because of his inability to function in human society. He probably could have helped himself, and especially the natural resources he was trying to protect if he could have worked with other humans, but perhaps Treadwell's greatest flaw was that he couldn't share nature. He saw himself as the feral king of his private natural empire and he absolutely could not share it. Upon second viewing this became very apparent to me, and my judgments of the man much harsher. His rage at photographers' trying to provoke a bear to stand for a photo do not seem rooted in concerns for the bears safety at all. Timmy is furious that there are other men with HIS bear! I imagine that he had several companions over the years before Amy Huguenard, but none could ever appear on camera because there wasn't enough space in Timmy's Alaska for anybody else.

8/10* Great documentary! For fans of Herzog, a must!

also see: ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS

Stephen Spielberg is responsible for the most polished, complete productions of my lifetime. He may be second to only Hitchcock in strength of "viewer manipulation." It has been said that Hichcock had such a flair for suspense that viewers would overlook/ fail to notice the plot holes (of which there are many) in his work. If there is a knock against Spielberg, it is not plot holes- his scripts are often airtight- but it his lack of grit, of edge, of the substance that made his first few efforts so great. It is true, upon such mighty laurels as he achieved early in his career, anyone might mellow out, become complacent. At times Mr. Spielberg is like a living Hallmark card...

Enter Tobe Hooper of Chainsaw fame. If anything, here is a director with the capacity to shock, but perhaps a little lacking in the production department (this guy really put some awful work to screen, much of it later than POLTERGEIST though). Hooper's flair for visceral imagery is really what cements this film as a horror classic, not just a creepy drama. The most unsettling scene may be watching a guy ripping his face apart after he watches his raw steak crawls across the kitchen counter and subsequently erupt.

However, POLTERGEIST does excel in the pervasive creepiness it evinces, similar to the tone of the Gothic horror pictures of decades before. Transposing to a sunny California housing development the type of atmosphere usually reserved drafty old castles and Victorian mansions on craggy hillsides. It is not this ambiance that puts the film over the top though, it is the combination of these solid, structured elements handled by the production team paired with penchant for gore that Hooper brings to the table. When you see his name attached to a title, you needn't worry it a "vanilla" picture.

The cast is exceptional. Williams and Nelson (both in STIR CRAZY, 1980) are wonderful as the loving, ultra-liberal parents of the family. This reviewer has a special place in his heart for the portrait of liberal family life that Hollywood films of the 70's/80's depict (damn, how do those teenagers get so much free time!!). The late Heather O'Rourke is a scene stealer as young Carol Ann, and the other children are serviceable, thus avoiding the 'obnoxious child' pitfall of many other films. The parapsychologists are likable, and Tangina, of course, is one a kind.

All in all, this is a stupendous film. Well deserving of it's hallowed status, and lionized by numerous rip offs and homage through the years (most recently, and quite well, on TV's FAMILY GUY). This film had potential for all kinds of cool intellectual horror, but the screenplay fails to extrapolate upon these opportunities. Perhaps it is for the better, for quaint charm and lack of pretension are virtues that age well.

9/10* Exceptional. If you have seen this film five times, watch it again!

Buffy the vampire slayer is not a terrific film. It is not the type of cinema that leaves you breathless and reeling, nor is it the type of cinema that idles at first creeps through your dreams with pervasive intensity. No, this is Time Capsule Cinema, a voyage to the neon panoply of early 90's California in the self described "Lite Age."

Kristy Swanson is lovely as the wise cracking eponymous star, nicely alternating between clinical sarcasm and tenderness in what is, essentially, a limited role. Donald Sutherland and Rutger Howard are hilarious as ancient figures who just happen to be hip to the slangy nature of late 20th century teen dialog. Luke Perry, David Arquette and Hillary Swank (far from her best role, but my favorite film of hers!) and a few others are fine as the assemblage of irreverent teenagers, eye rolling to the max! A highlight of the film is Stephen Root, playing the principal, regaling Buffy with a cautionary tale of his experiences with LSD in the 60's..."I was at a Doobie Brothers concert..."

Oh, and by the way, that's PEE WEE FREAKIN HERMAN as the fanged creep Lefty. Boy he got outta jail just soon enough. Paul Ruebens is phenomenal, of course, and it may be his presence that allows me to shamelessly enjoy the rest of the film through my rose colored glasses of guilty nostalgia!

Too many serious films reek of Los Angeles- you can almost taste the soy burgers and smog- when they take place elsewhere. This makes it difficult to differentiate the cast of actors from the characters they are paid to represent. This film revels in LA's lack of charm and sophistication. I half expected an In-N-Out Burger commercial to pop up half way through. Not enough comedies are as unselfconscious as this one, content to poke fun at themselves till the vampires come home!

7*/10 CAMPY FUN

Broken flowers is not the finest poetic character study by Jim Jarmusch, and it is not the best dramatic turn by Bill Murray, but together they form a very warm and very sad comedy.

Don Johnston (Murray) is faced with the declining existence of an aging womanizer whose many pursuits have yielded no tangible fruit. He appears financially secure and physically healthy, but emotionally vacant. At the urging of his friend Winston (Jeffrey Wright gives an exceptional performance in a wonderful role) Don sets out to find five old girlfriends and determine which of the old flames (if any of them) sent him a mysterious letter. Most road movies feature young men branching out to discover themselves-to forge a future. This might be a "retroactive road picture" in that Murray must travel two decades into his past to find himself... where he was then and where he is now.

Mr. Jarmusch does a terrific job with imagery. Of the many visual symbols to grasp at, there was one I found strangely poignant: look for a basketball hoop at each woman's house, in varying states of degradation. There is something decidedly French, or Francophile, about Jarmusch's symbolism in general, such as Don looking at a young man on a bus (maybe himself 20 years ago, maybe his progeny now?) dressed in similar clothing to his own. Sometimes the motives and meanings seem so simple, we search for greater, more complex and gratifying meanings before we appreciate the simple beauty that lies before us. This is true in films as it is life...

7.5/10*Entertaining and Poignant....HIGH RECOMMENDATION

Ouch. This film was recommended to me as a low-viewer-investment feature. My friend described it as the kind of movie to watch half drunk after midnight. A movie to kick back and enjoy some mindless fun. Unfortunately he was only half right...

THURSDAY is a vapid, hollow, misconstructed crime yarn that would have been better served as an hour long TV movie (the production looks like Canadian TV...no offense kids in the hall). The plot is contrived and the characters are bland and shallow- depth and complexity are foreign terms. The dialog was uninspired and at times, wooden. THURSDAY doesn't even provide a steady diet of cynicism, as it alternates between sardonic, tongue in cheek moments and sappy melodrama. I wasn't exactly expecting a grand cinematic experience, but this lack of substance, combined with a hallmark soundtrack at the sentimental moments, was painful.

This is the same kind of narcissistic, neo-noir drivel that suppurated from tinsel town in the 90s (see WHITE SANDS, RED ROCK WEST, AFTER DARK MY SWEET, all of which have more plot than THURSDAY). Yes it is supremely Tarentino-esquire: James Le Gros utters lines severely reminiscent of Mr. Blonde, True Romance rip offs abound. Yet this is more like a semi-literate cinematic love letter to QT, and I've always been sensitive about QT anyway. Exploitive violence is just exploitation. David Lynch for dummies.

This movie has a few redeeming qualities in its talented supporting cast, but the male lead could suck the life out of any scene. There is a great rape scene (continuity gaffe-explain to me how he got his package back in his pants?), and Mickey Rourke doing Mickey Rourke quite well as a sleazy, greasy, dirty cop. I should probably get a hepatitis shot after sitting so close to the screen.

If you want misanthropic, 90's Y-Generation entertainment, check out THE DOOM GENERATION. This movie succeeds in its irreverence because of it's impeccable color, creativity, and unpredictability. Sadly three virtues THURSDAY labors without.

3/10* AVOID.