Let Sleeping Corpses Lie

**** out of ****

I think it’s safe to assume that if you’re a director working in the horror genre and you’ve got some Italian in you – even if your native country is technically America – then your movies are going to be something much less and more than normal. Jorge Grau is a Spanish filmmaker who in 1974 made one of the most overlooked yet important zombie movies of all time. A Spanish-Italian production, it would go on to be the one film from the director that everyone – well, everyone that knew his name – would remember. It spawned a cult fan-base dedicated to its preservation over the years, even with Grau still alive to this day to look over it with care. It was called “Let Sleeping Corpses Lie” in America, although it went by many names: just two more being “The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue” and “Don’t Open the Window”. Whatever you decide to call it, the film took after George Romero’s early work in “Night of the Living Dead” and could be considered a colorized version of that film, although it does differ significantly from Romero’s movie so that it may mark its own territory in horror history. Its audience has discovered it, devoured it, and left what’s left of it out to dry for an entirely new generation of fans. Upon seeing it, I’m intent to assist in keeping its legacy going.

Antique shop owner George (Ray Lovelock) is riding his motorcycle through Manchester, on his way to a new house that he and his friends will be fixing up for the next few days or so. At the gas station, his bike is busted by some woman’s car. This was an accident, and the woman – Edna (Christina Galbo ) – offers, out of the kindness of her heart, to take George to where he is needed. But she’ll have to drop him off quick; since she’s got her own agenda for the day. Edna’s sister, a recovering heroin addict, is having trouble yet again at home – with her addiction and her husband alike – and she must go to the house to comfort her and perhaps get her some professional help. When the two stop for directions to Edna’s sister’s house in the country, something peculiar turns up. Edna takes a stroll while George goes up to a farm house and asks for directions from some farmers and scientists testing a new crop pesticide, and what does she see? An odd, zombie-like man with reddish eyes; an odd, zombie-like man who also tries to attack her.

Luckily, Edna escapes, although neither George nor anyone else will believe that there was ever a man; since there seems to be no evidence other than her words. They continue on their way to Edna’s sister’s house, where all sorts of weird shit is already going down. The zombie – since face it, that’s what he fucking was – that assaulted Edna has made its way to her sister’s residence and has already reached her and her husband (whom it kills) before the pair can even arrive. The police interpret these as murders, and since the zombie evades capture or documentation each time, Edna and George are wrongly accused as being the perpetrators of the crimes! Now, they are on the run; sort of like fugitives, in a way. Only zombies and the fuzz stand in their way.

Grau directs with an iron fist full of style and spunk. His film is almost surreal in its madness; blending bloody battles with the undead and the beautiful scenery of the English countryside as though the two were a match made in heaven. Perhaps in his mind, they were, and always have been. The mind of a horror director works in mysterious ways; but Grau seemed to have the rare gift of being able to see the beauty in the destruction that he brings to the screen. I can honestly say there isn’t another zombie movie out there quite like this. Not in terms of the narrative and characters, both of which are familiar; but it’s amazing how much of an impact locations and setting can have on a film’s quality. They certainly do this one a whole lot of good. But aside from the naturalistic visual panache, there’s a dream-like quality to it. “Let Sleeping Corpses Lie” is a madman concoction made of man-eating babies, blood-red contact lenses, ominous houses by the cemetery, and somewhat half-baked crime drama. Strangely enough, it wants to be taken seriously and for once we can do as it wishes. There’s humor to be sure, but seldom is it ever unintentional. This ain’t no Midnight Movie. This is a fierce, violent, swift, and intelligent zombie film.

 Let’s talk about the gore. There’s plenty of it. And who made it all possible? Why, none other than the great and legendary Giannetto De Rossi. This guy is fucking insane, only fit to work with directors equally as messed up in the head as he is, but that makes him all the more essential for any horror movie. I would be honored to work with this man. He’s more known for his work in Lucio Fulci horror flicks like “Zombie” and “The Beyond”, although this is one of the more early projects for him. De Rossi creates glorious scenes depicting zombie feasts, the consumption of organs, and various assorted flesh wounds. He never ceases to amaze me. If its blood and gore you crave, look no further; for the Spanish-Italians are here to serve just that, and they’re here to serve it well. Then there’s the musical score, which is phenomenal; done by Giuliano Sorgini. It always contrasts so beautifully with Francisco Sempere’s arresting camerawork.

This is the perfect mixture of smarts, sleaze (in the opening scene, a fully nude women runs into traffic for no apparent reason, just because), and surprising class. There’s some radical social commentary to be found here, even if we’ve seen it all before. Romero did pretty much everything that you could do; although I suppose there’s still stuff out there just waiting to be imagined by some creative mind. Jorge Grau is elaborate in how he stages every scene; and there isn’t a dull moment – or act – present. “Let Sleeping Corpses Lie” is brilliant, unforgettable, and underrated. It is a horror classic and an essential zombie movie; and it should be regarded as so. It has its admirers, although there aren’t nearly enough of them. For the love of all that is good and grotesque; please go out of your way to track down a copy. It’ll be worth your while, I can guarantee you that.

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

** out of ****

Honest Abe himself tells us early on in “Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter” that one very significant portion of his life will not be remembered throughout American history. The premise for the film is that he lived a double life as a slayer of vamps; a side-job that started at an early age when his mother’s life was taken by one named Jack Barts. This was mere inspiration. Lincoln did not learn that you could properly dispose of vampires for good until he tried it ten years later and failed miserably; saved only by a more experienced hunter, Henry Sturges (Dominic Cooper), who later teaches Abraham the trade, so to speak. This of course means that he walks him through what effectively kills vampires, as well as the enemy’s own unique weapons of choice (which include invisibility, evaporation, and obviously the sharp teeth). Abraham goes into battle with the beasts hidden in the darkness each night wielding his trusty axe (with silver on the tip, since everyone knows silver kills vamps); living a perfectly normal life by day.

His daytime job is as a shopkeeper, working for the kindly and energetic Joshua Speed (Jimmi Simpson). In the shop is where the most life-changing moments occur. Lincoln meets the love of his life – the woman who would soon be his wife – Mary Todd (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), who is then dating the politician Stephen A. Douglas (Alan Tudyk). He also reunites with a childhood friend; a slave by the name of William Johnson (Anthony Mackie), who still cherishes the fond memories along with the harsh ones that they both endured during their separate and shared boyhoods. Lincoln must try as hard as he possibly can to juggle his personal life, his political life, and his odd job as a killer. And this is just the first part of the story. Just wait until he moves into the White House with Mary Todd. Things get real messy then.

The main villain of the story is a slave-owner/head vampire named Adam (Rufus Sewell). The slaves themselves are the only thing keeping his army of evil bloodsuckers sane for the time being. They will wage war once they run out of food resources. Lincoln makes the mistake of freeing the slaves; and so the war that never was begins. The script by Seth Grahame-Smith, who also wrote the novel of the same name, clearly has no intentions of following history very closely at all; but for a movie of this title, it actually takes itself very seriously indeed. This could have made for something silly – something satirical or flamboyantly goofy – but instead the screenplay makes an attempt to develop real characters and situations. Maybe it’s better off that way.

The film, directed by the visionary Timur Bekmambetov, is a stunning visual achievement. With Tim Burton as one of the producers, that’s what you’d most likely expect; a ravishing production filled with great shots and nice looking effects (although the vampires aren’t particularly amazing to gawk at). If that’s all you’re looking for, then “Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter” is the movie for you. Its chock full of pretty things to look at and it’s got plenty of different elements to pick aside and admire; yet I can’t help but feel there’s an empty void somewhere here that hasn’t quite been filled. Yes, you get some pretty sweet and stylistic action sequences, but so what? I might care if the screenplay had been ignored a little more – or perhaps a little less mediocre – but the film makes the mistake of believing that it’s got more substance than it actually does.

If you’re a technical junkie, you’re going to want to see this no matter what. But the fact of the matter is that “Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter” provides only momentarily thrilling, but ultimately forgettable pleasures. It has some good performances – although Benjamin Walker as Lincoln is somewhat questionable, more-so during the younger days of the world-renown president rather than his later years – but on a whole, I questioned its authenticity as an action flick and as entertaining historical fiction throughout. I’ve heard rumors of a 168 minute cut, and I hope that surfaces one day. The thing feels either too short or too long. Or maybe it just feels oddly uninspired for a film with such a great idea going for it. I give it credit for possessing an impressive production and cast, as well as a damn interesting premise; but I also must discredit it for failing to engage me. I don’t ask much out of these action movies, why must they be so difficult? Perhaps it’s finding the right balance between absurdity and realism; there’s a line there and if you cross it, there will be hell to pay. This movie gets off easy. Not all of them can be so lucky.

Goon

*** out of ****

“Goon” is a damn good movie for people who love both hockey and movies. It’s the kind of hockey comedy that fans of the sport and the art have been waiting for since the classic “Slap Shot” came and went, but was never quite forgotten. This is essentially everyone’s long-awaited reward for sitting through countless “Mighty Ducks” movies in hopes of one day encountering a good old fashioned raunchy comedy covering their beloved sport yet again. It threatens to leave mixed tastes in the mouth, combining harsh brutality with big laughs and a big heart; but if you really try to “feel” the movie, it becomes all the more satisfying. It’s short, sweet, to-the-point, and a different movie than the trailers might suggest. I can’t say I expected such a down-to-earth movie; a comedy that doubles as a strong drama and with such likable characters too. What I did expect was a vulgar comic outing and well, I got that. But sometimes this isn’t enough, and “Goon” understands that, which is why it goes out of its way to be something more than merely “run-of-the-mill”.

Doug Glatt (Seann William Scott) is an easily lovable loser; an avid hockey fan born into a Jewish family of doctors. Doug is pretty much the nicest guy in the world – so nice that he’s almost naïve – yet he openly realizes that he doesn’t have a “thing”. And he really, really wants to have a “thing”. He expresses his desires to his best friend Pat (Jay Baruchel), who hosts a television talk show all about hockey. Next thing they know, the boys are off to a minor league hockey game to lift Doug’s spirits. But during this particular game, Pat’s inner fan gets the better of him, and he yells out to a member of the opposing team, provoking the man to climb into the stands and yell offensive derogatory comments towards homosexuals; an action which offends Doug due to his gay brother. So what does Doug do in defense? He head-butts the bastard, crushing his helmet. Impressed, the coach of the local team (of Doug’s hometown) gives Doug a call and asks him if he would like a chance at joining the team…as an enforcer.

Doug finds success and admirers in this field. Much like Jake LaMotta of “Raging Bull”, the hockey rink is his true home; and the act of punching people in the face repeatedly is his true calling as well as a way for Doug to relieve a lot of tension. He fancies himself a real hockey player, especially when he’s called up to Canada to be a part of a higher-class team called The Halifax Highlanders, even though his parents (Eugene Levy and Ellen David) do not support him, writing off what he’s doing as a “hobby”. But he enjoys this new life, his new friends (basically his teammates, not all of whom being the nicest fellows out there), and a new love interest; a pretty girl named Eva (Alison Pill) who at this point in her life needs a guy just like Doug. Meanwhile, the infamous Ross Rhea (Liev Schreiber) takes notice of Doug’s fame as a “goon” and directly meets with him so that he may voice his intent to face off against him if he is given the chance. They must both prepare for the glorious event in their own ways; clearly both men need some time to shape up.

This film succeeds on the basis of the performances from its extremely talented and diverse cast. A lot of the people here are well-known comic actors, especially Scott; although what I like about his character – Doug “The Thug” – the most is that he’s a really believable and nice guy. Not for a moment does he do anything to make you feel otherwise about who he is and where he stands; oh, I’ve definitely met people like this. Indeed, his decision to be thoroughly kind and complimentary towards everyone around him gets slightly annoying at times, but I watched the film knowing that this was a guy with a heart of gold. Scott is surrounded by a supporting cast of hilarious performers; such as Marc-Andre Grondin as Doug’s roommate, the entire hockey team itself (the locker room scenes are a riot), and David Paetkau as Doug’s gay brother. There are two central chemistries at work here, one between Scott and Baruchel and the other between Scott and Pill. Both are absolute fucking dynamite, and I’d probably watch the film again just to witness these incredibly “real” and genuine performances and character relationships. I admire how the film doesn’t sugarcoat the character development even if it goes at a pace that is perhaps a tad fast for my liking; and also how it’s able to retain its authenticity even when the violence gets bloody and the tone gets almost cartoonish in nature.

Directed by Michael Dowse and written by Baruchel and screenwriting partner Evan Goldberg (who scripted 2007’s brilliant “Superbad” and 2011’s lame “The Green Hornet); “Goon” might not be the second coming of “Slap Shot”, but it’s bound to hold most people over until that movie comes along (if it ever does). It’s violent, crude, irreverent, yet smart and sweet at the core. And it embodies a quality of the best of comedies; it isn’t lazy. There’s clearly some damn good filmmaking and camerawork going on here, and a general affection for the sport at hand. Hell, I’m not a fan of sports in general – much less hockey – yet I can honestly say I enjoyed the hell out of this film. Perhaps good sports movies are not so much about the sport itself but more about the players and the psychology that they bring onto the turf, the field, or in this case, the ice. 

War Horse

** out of ****

Allow me, for a moment, to establish a few of my reviewer biases that I might not have already established in the past. What I like in a movie is entertainment, however it may be delivered; be it through a thought-provoking story, strong central characters, or a satisfying visual style. What I dislike is familiarity, simplicity (although sometimes I can let it slide), and ignorance. And now it all boils down to what a truly hate: forced sentimentality, the manipulation of my emotions, pretense, and obvious Oscar Bait. Why do I feel the need to mention my reviewer biases at this point in time? Because Steven Spielberg’s newest live action effort, “War Horse”, is the kind of movie that I should have liked but didn’t. For the full 146 minutes, I felt like I was being dragged along whereas I should have been riding contently with this cinematic stallion.

I hate to be a naysayer, I really do. But Spielberg’s latest just plain annoyed me. It has everything – and I mean EVERYTHING – that you’d expect from a Hollywood production, although not enough of what we’ve come to expect from Spielberg. As a director, he’s made some incredible movies but has been experiencing a sort of decline recently; and this is just more evidence of that. Some directors remain great from the starting point to the finish line of their career; but it would seem that Spielberg is settling down perhaps a bit too soon. He hasn’t lost any of his affection or indulgence to deliver family-friendly fare, and this is a fairly well-made film, but this is just another one of those movies that – to me – feels mushy and bittersweet to the point of no return.

Albert (Jeremy Irvine), a farmer’s boy, witnesses the birth – and growth – of a Bay Thoroughbred horse. It is then auctioned in town once it has grown, and Albert’s father (Peter Mullan) blows all he’s got on the animal. He fears that he may not be able to pay his landlord (David Thewlis) given that what he spent on the horse (30 guineas) was all his family had. To pay off the money, the horse must help plow a field on the farm. Albert promises to train and harness the animal for this occasion. He names the horse Joey. Things seem going well for a while; almost…too well. Suspicion is proven logical when a rainstorm destroys the crops and field that Joey had plowed. The family’s future is in jeopardy once again. And then arrives the outbreak of World War I. To ease his family’s burden, Albert’s father sells Joey to a cavalry officer (Tom Hiddleston), who promises to return Joey to him once the war is over.

The story follows Joey’s travels. First, he is on the battlefield with the soldier, and then he is found with another horse in a windmill (where he was left by two soldiers) by a little French brat living with her grandpa on a ranch. Finally, the two souls reunite in the trenches after Albert has finally grown old enough to make it into the war. This is more or less a somewhat unorthodox story of a boy and his dog; although the dog here is not a dog at all, but a horse. A war horse, so they say. Richard Curtis’s screenplay, adapted from Michael Morpurgo’s 1982 children’s novel of the same name, is consistent and tame; although of that last part I can only say that playing it safe does not necessarily work to the film’s advantage.

Even though I do not particularly enjoy feel-good dramas most of the time, I walked into this one with moderate expectations; hoping that I would be entertained because after all, it IS Spielberg. Most people will most likely dismiss “War Horse” (whether they intend to or not) as another well-crafted success from the filmmaker, and it’s not going to befuddle many people. However, if you’re like me and you – as I said – dislike simplicity in movies, you’re likely to find this film unnecessarily ponderous and genuinely boring. The pacing is slow – perhaps to establish the characters and all that shit, even though this film has neither a great story nor great characters – but that’s not why I found myself checking my watch every so often. I was never absorbed in these people, this time period, and this “inspiring” story. Like most big directors, Spielberg just makes it feel that he’s taking the easy way out half of the time. And that just doesn’t work with dramas like this. There aren’t enough establishing scenes, although I do compliment Spielberg on his decision to not just rush through every detail; since too many movies do that and therefore miss the point of character development entirely. I just wish there were more compelling characters to develop in the first place.

Most people turn in excellent performances. Mullan is mean and uncompromising as Albert’s father, Emma Watson is kindly and understanding as his mother, and Thewlis is demeaning as the family’s landlord. Irvine as Albert himself is questionable to me, although most people seem to be praising his performance. In all honesty, everything he did and said aggravated the living shit out of me. It’s like every word that escapes his British mouth is meant to be sappy or moving or something like that. I don’t like movies that pull such risky yet unimpressive and unattractive stunts. So much could have been accomplished if every element of the production didn’t feel like it was desperate to be nominated for an Academy Award. “War Horse” is exceptionally acted (for the most part), BEAUTIFULLY shot (and I mean that with the utmost respect), and well-made for a film of its kind; but it did not engage me and Spielberg has once again made a movie that is simply too “straight”. I’d love to see something at least somewhat conventional out of the man, but I guess big name directors don’t even have the decency to do something like that anymore.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

**** out of ****

Characterized by its signature catchy lyrics, dancing trannies, midnight movie stylistics, and blood-red pouty lips on the common poster; “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” was an unmistakable cult phenomenon that took the world by storm in 1975 by introducing something new: audience participation. Since it’s the characters and the songs that the fans of the musical film would remember most fondly; they would often come to midnight screenings and otherwise dressed in “Rocky Horror” attire, ready to sing along with their horrorshow heroes on-screen. They say that the best way to view the film is to see it in a theater with these very people, and they are probably right. I’m sure the audience participation aspect makes the film even more enjoyable than it already is. But at home, some say the magic is gone. I’ve heard critics make ridiculous claims such as that the film – upon a home video viewing – has been reduced to the bear minimal elements of its complete whole (which can apparently be accessed in the theatrical setting). Well, as I write this, I’ve seen it twice now; and I must disagree. Both viewings took place in the comfort of my own home, and my theory is that as long as you have good “surround sound” and a pleasingly large screen to view it on, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” is still all kinds of fun, so long as this was your idea of fun to begin with.

The film and its characters now find themselves embedded into pop culture. I’ve seen shirts being sold in regular retail stores with the red lips printed on the front, along with various other shirts sporting art from the movie. And then there’s the soundtrack, which is not too rare at all; in fact, I’ve seen it often at my local multi-media store. One of the largest cult films ever seems less of a cult film now, since it’s moved more towards the mainstream. That’s OK, since this does not affect how much I – or anyone else for the matter – was entertained by it. It’s about quality, not quantity, as some many wise men tend to say. I’m a picky little bastard when it comes to full length musicals, as you may already know by now, but this is essentially what I want when I’m looking to admire one: great music and stylistic peculiarities that only this genre can possess. You couldn’t do “Rocky Horror” as a conventional picture. It exists as a musical and only a musical; less about plot and more about rhythm, attitude, and flow. That’s the kind of movie-going experience that midnight movie audiences are always looking for.

Lovers Janet (Susan Sarandon) and Brad (Barry Bostwick) get stranded in the middle of the woods one dark, stormy, and rainy night when their car breaks down; prompting them to literally sing their way to the nearest creepy looking Gothic mansion. When they arrive at the front of the estate to ask if the house owners have a phone that they can use, they are practically sucked in to the festivities at hand. Soon, the mansion’s caretakers Riff Raff (Richard O’Brien) and Magenta (Patricia Quinn) are doing the famous “time warp” (again and again) along with the other residents of the house. Afterwards, the “master” arrives; Dr. Frank-N-Furter (Tim Curry), the “sweet transvestite from Transsexual Transylvania”. He ignores the requests for a phone and asks that Brad and Janet accompany him in witnessing the awakening of his newest creation, Rocky Horror (Peter Hinwood); a handsome devil who somehow manages to tear everyone apart. Also joining these characters in their downwards spiral towards madness and betrayal is Dr. Everett V. Scott (Jonathan Adams), a fellow scientist who the couple was heading to see as their car broke down.

The music is sung by the stars and was written by Richard O’Brian (creator of the original 1972 stage play of the same name) and the director, Jim Sharman. It’s hard not to like a lot of it. From the intoxicating opener titled “Science Fiction/Double Feature” to the well-known “Time Warp” all the way to one of the last tunes – the beautiful and surprisingly moving “I’m Going Home” -, I was tapping my toes throughout the whole 100 minutes. Perhaps the film appealed to me as much as it did because it is heavily thematic in the realm of horror and science fiction. It seems to take most of its influence from films of both genres, “Frankenstein” specifically. Riff Raff is a sort of hunchback; Frank-N-Furter is somewhat of a mad scientist. The mansion itself feels like another dimension entirely, as if the characters have been transported to some otherworldly place. This feel which the film has achieved so gloriously is the key to its success as midnight entertainment for the late-night audience; it is strange, trippy, psychedelic, and spiked with a wicked sense of humor. It’s very fast-paced and it might take a few viewings to really appreciate, but it truly does put a sinister spell on you from the beginning to the end.

With the help of its eccentric nature and its fan-base, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” understands that a film must not simply dream it to become big, but also be it as well; and so it is a film of massive scope and spectacle, an experience of much charm, sensuality, and magnificence. It’s not the ultimate cult flick, but as a piece of pop surrealism; it’s surprisingly not annoying, nor is it distracting. It’s a film that serves as a diversion, but I firmly believe that there are classic movies even of that sort; and this is one of them. With something as interesting, funny, and entertaining as this; I cannot determine the exact amount of times I will be doing the time warp again in the future, but my expectation is that it won’t be long before I do.  

Alien

**** out of ****

Commercial towing spaceship Nostromo is making the long trip back to earth after the crew made out like a group of crafty bandits with about twenty million tons of mineral ore. Until the journey back is complete, the crew sleeps; although an incoming transmission temporarily interrupts their slumber. It comes from an unnamed planet, from an unknown source, but the computer – which the crew members call “Mother” – claims that it would be in their best interest to react to what could possibly be some kind of distress signal. After a rough landing, the crew – Science Officer Ash (Ian Holm), Captain Dallas (Tom Skerrit), Executive Officer Kane (John Hurt), Warrant Officer Ripley (Sigourney Weaver), Navigator Lambert (Veronica Cartwright), and engineer duo Brett (Harry Dean Stanton) and Parker (Yaphet Kotto) – decides that one group should stay with the ship and another should investigate the planet, a lot of which is hidden in what looks to be a thick fog. Those who stay with the ship are Ripley, Ash, and the engineers; everyone else goes. And when they do, the first thing of notice that they see is a large ship, not in a much different position than theirs, although certainly of a different shape and origin. Perhaps this is where the distress signal came from, they’re thinking, so naturally they go snooping around and inside the vessel.

The interior of the ship is very peculiar. The patterns on the wall are strange, there’s a giant fossil-like humanoid being whose ribs appear to have been shattered from the inside-out, and one room contains hundreds –possibly even thousands – of tiny oval shaped eggs concealed under a blue veil. Kane goes in for a closer look and notices that whatever is inside the egg is soon to come out. The top of the egg opens, and sure enough, a spider-like creature jumps out and breaks into Kane’s helmet with its sharp, whip-like tail. Kane is taken back to the ship by his fellow crew-mates, and after much studying, they decide that it would be best to try and get this thing – whatever it is – off of his face. It doesn’t appear to be doing him much harm; it almost looks as if the creature is giving him oxygen. Nevertheless, an incision is made; and it is then revealed that the creature has acid for blood. When the crew members return to the room where Kane’s body remains later on, the thing is gone, although once it’s found, it’s already dead.

Kane, meanwhile, comes to not too long afterwards. He seems fine, but at dinner, he starts feeling pains in his chest. And then another alien – larger than the last one, somewhat different in appearance, but still possessing a similar tail – bursts right from his chest, killing him and running away to some undesignated location within the ship. The crew must find it before it causes any more damage. Clearly it is dangerous. But they are unable to catch it in time, and it grows. In its final form, the alien is tall and humanoid; sort of blackish-grey, and characterized by a distinctive exoskeleton. From then on, it has the strength and the intelligence to successfully pick and choose its victims as it lingers in the shadows. Each man (or woman) for his/her own against the extraterrestrial monster. Oh, and the ship’s pet cat is on the loose, meaning that the crew is pretty concerned about its safety, with a murderous alien lurking practically anywhere it wants and all.

Ridley Scott’s “Alien” is one of the best kinds of horror movies. Not only is it a horror movie, but it also dabbles heavily in science fiction, action, and drama. It’s not simply one movie; it’s a handful of several different ones concocted into a single whole. It is frightening, fascinating, intelligent, suspenseful, and hauntingly original all at the same time; never slowing down in hopes of being just one of those things at a time. What I like about it is that it’s not the kind of movie that intends to compromise; it utilizes the slow-burn stylistic of tension and build-up and is better off that way. It works way better than most of its imitators because Scott has an impeccable desire to pay attention to every last little detail, and some of the best scenes from the film are indeed very crisp and attentive to the little things in between each sole element. For example, when the crew that went to the unmanned, abandoned ship is exploring the fossilized alien statue; the film gets genuinely scientific. But when it gets scientific, well, that’s also when it gets the most interesting. That’s not to say that it isn’t consistently interesting, because it is; but some moments are comparably superior to others. But in a movie as perfect and legendary as this; every moment is superb.

The movie’s villain has worked its way into our culture or at least our cinematic and popular culture(s). The spider-like being that latches to Kane’s face is called the Facehugger, the egg that it lays in Kane’s body that comes out through the stomach is identified as the Chestburster, and then the final evolutionary stage of the alien is known as the Xenomorph. Each was designed by the Swiss artist H.R. Giger, with an obvious Lovecraftian influence. Then there is the fossilized alien, which they call the “Space Jockey”. We remember these names. We remember them because the things they are assigned to are pretty much one whole (although the space jockey might not be related to the Xenomorph), and that “whole” is pretty damn scary. The titular alien is one of the best movie villains in the sense that it hides in the darkness and kills you at random. You cannot stop it, for the most part you cannot fight it, and you hardly ever know when it’s right next to you, practically. It’s a silent and deadly killer, which makes it all the more resonant on a scale of pure fear. The film’s tagline is “In space, no one can hear you scream”. The Xenomorph is a beast made of such excessive evil that it wouldn’t even give you the time or the satisfaction to do something as simple as that.

Horror movies have a weird poetry to them. They are often macabre and quite violent, not to mention just plain distressing and intent on making you feel anything but secure; but I find there’s something beautiful about that. “Alien” is a classic marriage of sight, sound, and sheer directorial talent. Therein lies the poetry of it all. The musical score by Jerry Goldsmith is uncommonly soothing (most of the time) for a movie of this genre and sort, the cinematography is beautiful and captures every last important detail as it meets the lenses of the camera, and Scott shows that he knows how to tell a good story by captivating us not just through state-of-the-art visual effects but also through what I would consider just good storytelling overall. This is a riveting work of science fiction-fantasy/horror, and it must be seen more than once to believe and truly understand. This is Ridley Scott’s magnum opus; the one film that he can be seen referring to as his “baby”. He is very proud of his creation, and he has the right to be. It’s not every day that a filmmaker gets to break new ground seamlessly.

Rock 'n' Roll High School

**** out of ****

“Rock ‘n’ Roll High School” is a movie that exists in its own world. Yes, it is a high school movie; but not just a high school movie, and certainly one that’s unlike any other you’ve ever seen. It studies late 1970’s youth at arm’s length, closes in on certain individuals for deeper insight, and contains plenty of positive message-making in regards to this age group; but it also has exploding rats, creepy make-out sessions with blow-up sex dolls, scenes of freshmen being literally cooked from the shoulders down in a kitchen pot of boiling water, and an ending that involves a high school exploding into flames and ashes. The film, under the keen direction of Allan Arkush, is basically what happens when you take the high school comedy formula and mix it with the absurdity of an exploitation film and the distorted editing of a midnight movie. When you have Roger Corman as the producer, you come to expect such qualities. But still, Arkush has made a film that is somewhat of a sucker punch; you may expect zaniness from a Corman-produced production, but you most likely wouldn’t expect…whatever this is. It’s nearly indescribable as it is. But that’s the appeal of it. There’s something going on here that no other high school movie has successfully copied or even came close to understanding. It’s all about attitude, style, and the music.

At Vince Lombardi High, the principals keep coming and going due to nervous breakdowns, and the students keep partying to the sounds of rock ‘n’ roll. Perhaps the biggest music buff in the entire school is Riff Randall (P.J. Soles of “Halloween” fame), a girl who absolutely adores The Ramones and can be seen blasting their recordings quite often. But her days of fame such as this are threatened by the arrival of the new principal, a Mrs. Togar (Mary Woronov); who hates rock ‘n’ roll with a burning passion. She has theorized that it makes students dumber. She argues her case by showing the effects that it has on science class mice. If the volume is too high, they tend to blow up. Just like that, into a puff of smoke. She shows this to the music and gym teachers of the school, and they are unconvinced. But she’s not. If anyone is to be caught listening to rock ‘n’ roll on school grounds, their permanent records will be at stake.

The film is messy, all-over-the-place, but not for a single moment dull. There are many sub-plots, and each separate one is amusing in its own way. There’s one where Riff’s best friend Kate (Dey Young) tries finding young love with a jock named Tom Roberts (Vince Van Patten); although coincidentally they are both searching for the same thing and come to the same man for advice, a quirky fellow named Eaglebauer (Clint Howard). Another big part of the plot concerns Riff’s determination to be first in line at the next local concert for The Ramones and personally give one of the band members – preferably her favorite of the three, Joey Ramone – original song lyrics that she has written and wants them to consider working into one of their songs. She camps out in front of the theater for days, and a hilarious scene reveals that she is not the only obsessed fan in town.

I remember the first time my dad got me into The Ramones. He had recently bought their “Best Of” compilation album – which is a good one indeed – and I was pretty much hooked from there. “Rock ‘n’ Roll High School” is damn delightful because it not only features some of the Ramones’ best music but also the members playing fictional versions of themselves. I’ve always found their greatest hits to be profoundly entertaining to listen to, and the film does me one better by providing a visual companion to the music, and a worthy one too. It doesn’t play like a music video, but it’s a very musical film in the sense that some of the best scenes have music by The Ramones playing over the action on-screen. For many, it will evoke sweet memories; although I’m unsure of how those not familiar with the band going in will feel once they’re out. Probably indifferent to the whole thing, really. But then again, the film could serve as a nice introduction to The Ramones and their epic, diverse body of work. I’ll hope for the best. Either way, it’s definitely worth seeing just to see it; because anything that can be dubbed a “Corman Cult Classic” is probably worth its weight in engagingly outrageous hijinks.

This is a film of wicked, consistent humor and flamboyant style. It’s definitely one of those “mood movies” – meaning that you really have to be in the moment (if you know what I mean) to truly get the best movie watching effect – but if you’re in the particular “mood” that is required; you’re almost guaranteed to have a good time. I personally laughed my ass off throughout the picture, and it’s hard not to when it keeps bombarding you with such inspired and ridiculous imagery and situations. You want an example? How about a giant, human-sized white lab rat (in reference to the exploding one in that earlier scene) showing up at the Ramones concert that essentials starts off the third act? Or how about the high school music teacher (who we presumed hated rock music) arriving in his regular attire, ready to have a groovy time? I could list off so many things, but I do know that I found myself laughing a lot. You get so entrapped by the film’s surreal nature that the only thing you can do is laugh almost maniacally. As a midnight movie, it gives you all you want; sleaze (the spandex gym scene, oh God), sex (albeit awkward and brief pseudo-sex), and surrealism. Arkush seems to direct it with real passion and style. It’s not great looking, but it’s great sounding and great feeling. I’ll bet you it takes an acquired taste to appreciate it in full, but screw it; I’ll bite, but only because I truly loved this movie.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

** out of ****

For me, “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” is about as difficult to hate as it is to like or even love. The reviews seem quite divided over Stephen Daldry’s adaptation of Jonathan Safran Foer’s novel, with some calling it manipulative melodrama and others considering it effective and very moving. The Academy surely saw something special in the picture, as exemplified by their decision to nominate it for Best Picture at the 84^th Academy Awards; although then again they also saw something “special” in “The Help”, which I found to be overrated but not without its entertainment value. This is the kind of film that, like or not, milks the reactions that it gets straight from the audience with much force. But since it is that kind of film, I cannot bring myself to hate it because it has a good amount of devoted, familiar faces working on it. “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” is well-cast and engaging for particularly long stretches, but there was never a time where I felt very drawn into its story, which is one worth telling, in spite of the fact that Daldr is too safe and in being so shows little true affection for human nature.

A New York jeweler named Thomas Schell (Tom Hanks) dies in the 9/11 Terrorist Attack on the World Trade Center. He leaves behind him a wife (Sandra Bullock) and a son, Oskar (Thomas Horn). Prior to his death, the father and son were quite close. For instance, we are shown contrasts between the past and the present for the first hour of the film, depicting their relationship; which consisted of a mutual fascination with scavenger hunts, which Thomas had set up in an attempt to get Oskar to overcome his fears and discomforts. His death impacts Oskar greatly. The child keeps a sort of shrine in his bedroom, things that remind him of his dad, and he tries to just forget about it all; but he can’t. Neither can his mother, who seems like she’ll be depressed for many years to come. But one day while rummaging through his father’s closet, he finds a pouch hidden within a yellow vase that contains a key. On the pouch is written a single word: Black. This is assumed to be a last name, and before we know it, Oskar is asking the doorman (John Goodman) of the apartment complex in which he lives for the giant phonebook so that he can look up everyone in the city with the last name “Black”.

There are over 400 of them, but there can be only one whom the key belonged to, or was associated with. Oskar is concerned that there is a great mystery to be solved here, and so he embarks on a conquest to solve it. With him he brings the mute renter from his grandmother’s apartment (Max von Sydow), who acts as a companion and a friend to Oskar throughout the journey across NYC. He communicates in hand-written notes on pieces of scrap-paper as well as the “yes” and “no” that are written on his left and right hands. When the two first meet, it seems like something out of a fairy tale; it is both fascinating and otherworldly. It’s a shame that the rest of the film – what preceded and followed at this point in it – could not live up to one excellent scene.

Oskar is likely on the Autism spectrum. He even mentions at one point that he was tested for Asperger’s Syndrome, although the results were inconclusive. Nevertheless, this would probably explain his peculiarities and attitude throughout the film. A lot of movies seek to portray kids with this disorder and not many actually succeed. This is another one that we can just leave behind us. For the most part, it’s a well-researched and partially accurate study of a child with Asperger’s, but it fails to get inside Oskar’s head, and that is where it is severely lacking. One could even say that it’s simply building off of stereotypes, but at the same time, the filmmakers at work took the time to do their homework. But that isn’t enough for me. As someone with Asperger’s, I hate to see it be used like it is here; as just another ingredient in the recipe for total emotional exploitation.

That’s another thing that really bothers me; this film feels exploitative. Of our emotions and feelings, but also of the tragedy that was 9/11. In my opinion, those who claim “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” is melodramatic and forced are absolutely correct; I felt that way too. The film seeks to manipulate our emotions through the tears of its characters, so it never really earns shit. Sorry, but I’d much rather watch a movie that makes me care about the characters before it even thinks of inspiring the waterworks (which this movie never even does, or at least it didn’t for me). “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” will mean different things to different people. It is a competently made, beautifully shot, well-acted piece of work; but as far as a movie about tragedy goes, it’s too cute for its own good. It isn’t a complete failure as it is, but it possesses neither strong drama nor strong characterization. Note to the writer (Eric Roth) and the director; do more research, and next time don’t try so hard to make it look like you just want to get nominated for awards. The thing just feels so goddamn needy, which is one of the main factors that contributes to why I cannot bring myself to have a lot of sympathy for it. Not a bad film, not at all; but it walks a very thin line between being annoying and cloying.

The Exorcist II: The Heretic

Half a star (1/2) out of ****

The William Friedkin-directed film adaptation of William Peter Blatty’s acclaimed horror novel “The Exorcist” shocked audiences all over the world like they had never been shocked before in the year of 1973. Never before had anyone seen such sensational special effects and – for those who haven’t yet looked overseas towards the wonders of foreign horror – gross singular scenarios. People loved this film and it still holds up today (perhaps better than ever, since we can now strip away the effects and study the film’s bare essentials). Four years after its release, they decided to make a sequel; you know, just because they could. “The Exorcist II: The Heretic” exists when nobody actually cared whether a sequel to “The Exorcist” was made or not. It felt as if everything was reasonably resolved by the end, and the major themes came full circle; so why do we need a continuation of this story? Well, we don’t; making “Exorcist II” probably the most pointless sequel in the history of movie sequels or maybe just the history of anything. The icing on the cake is that it’s not just pointless; it is absolutely, undeniably one of the worst movies ever made.

Four years after she was possessed by the demon Pazuzu in the comfort of her own Washington home and in the company of her loving mother and two priests (one young, one old); Regan MacNeil (Linda Blair) seems surprisingly normal given all the things she’s been through. Since “The Exorcist”, her parents have divorced and she’s now living with her guardian in New York City, and she’s also seeing a psychologist in an institution that worries for her (although it’s good enough that Regan doesn’t have to stay in the building). She claims to only remember the events of that one night in D.C. through dreams - or nightmares – and the little details in-between that somehow did not escape her. She cannot, however, remember the exorcism that took place in her very own bedroom. To see if her memories of that night can be recovered; the psychiatrist hooks both Regan and herself up to a device called the Synchronizer, which as one would expect synchronizes the brainwaves.

Meanwhile, a priest facing a crisis of faith (Richard Burton) is asked by the Cardinal to investigate the death of Father Merrin (Max Von Sydow, who appears in flashbacks). This of course leads him to Regan, and he partakes in the session involving the synchronizer. He then becomes increasingly more involved in her life; believing that Pazuzu still exists somewhere deep down inside Regan’s soul, even though it was assumed that the demon was passed down to Father Karras’ body in the first film when it was the cause of his eventual death (which could be ruled as suicide, depending on how you look at it). Here, Pazuzu comes in all forms; including a swarm of locusts that attacks Africans. Oh, how fun! This relates to the priest’s own journey to Africa; where all shall be revealed, or something like that.

Blatty himself saw the film in the theater when it was out and said he was the first person to laugh out loud in the cinema while watching it (the rest of the audience joined in soon thereafter). It is a movie of unintentional laughs and giggles; although one of no pleasures whatsoever. Some films are bad and some are so bad they’re good. “The Exorcist II” is not fun in any way shape or form, and believe me when I say that you don’t want to waste your precious little fucking time watching it. Indeed, some things – like a guy dressed up like an actual lotus and some cheesy flashback sequences – are amusing at best and flamboyantly silly (although perhaps unintentionally), but does that equate to a good time? It might in another film. But in this one, no way. Is it worth sitting through nearly two hours of terrible “demonic” music (somehow courtesy of the usually great Ennio Morricone), mediocre camerawork, a complete lack of convincing atmosphere or directorial style, and bland-ass performances just to get a few noteworthy chuckles? You tell me. But from what I gather, “The Exorcist II” isn’t even lucky enough to be dubbed one of those “best-worst movies”.

Probably the most tragic aspect of this whole thing is that it was directed by John Boorman. Yes, THAT John Boorman. The same exact guy who made “Deliverance” – considered a classic survival thriller and the quintessential backwoods inbred flick – just five years earlier. Strange how directors can go from something awesome to something as god-awful as this. Well, thanks John Boorman; I will never forget your shit-storm of a movie. Not only because there is literally nothing good to say about it, but also because it’s the terrible sequel to one of my favorite films of all time, period (and also my favorite horror film). At this very moment, I wish I could unsee the suck; but I can’t. And just for that, I hope Boorman gets raped up the ass with a wooden crucifix. But if you like pretentious, boring, excessively overlong and legitimately mentally deficient horror movies; this might just be your thing.

Men in Black III

*** out of ****

“Men in Black” was released in 1997 to positive reactions from both critics and movie-goers alike. It was praised for its innovative premise, inventive creature designs, and a believable chemistry shared between the leads. In 2002, a sequel was released; and neither fans nor critics were impressed. After that little mishap, it was made pretty darn clear that no one really cared whether they continued the franchise from that point on or not. Well, after a ten year wait, they’ve finally gone and done it regardless of what anyone was going to think. The key members of the team –the leads, director Barry Sonnenfeld, and make-up artist/creature designer extraordinaire Rick Baker – have returned to the world of “Men in Black” with the third installment. I suppose they hope to right most of the wrongs present in the second offering, and I think they do their job quite well. The fun of the premise is back and thanks to a little narrative tinkering, a lot of things feel genuinely new, so the newest film in the franchise is able to feel alive and energetic enough to please die-hards and newcomers alike. It’s far from perfect, but I wasn’t expecting it to be; so I can forgive the simplicity and the imperfections.

Nefarious criminal Boris the Animal (Jemaine Clement) escapes from the intergalactic prison that Agent K (Tommy Lee Jones) damned him to back in 1969, hoping that he may travel back in time to that year to undo the past and kill K so that his alien race may invade the planet earth. This is just one of the two opening sequences that the film has, the other involving Agent J (Will Smith) and K fighting off giant fish and various other extraterrestrials hiding out as regular folks in a Chinese restaurant. After this little struggle, Boris pays K a visit and basically warns him of what he is about to do. Later that night, K returns to his apartment, ready for Boris to arrive, which he never does; since he has already traveled back in time and killed off the legend himself. 

J goes to MIB headquarters the next day like it’s any other. But when he asks the new head of the agency (Emma Thompson) – who took over after Zed (Rip Torn) passed away – where K is that morning, she and everyone else present doesn’t seem to know who J is talking about. Since Boris has time traveled and they are currently in present day, K died over 40 years ago, in the year of 1969, and J’s partners have been ridiculously disposable ever since (like they were in “Men in Black II”). To get his friend and partner back, J must find out how Boris traveled back in time. Apparently, he visited an electronics store run by a man named Jeffrey Price, who gave him a mechanism that allowed him to “time jump” off the Chrysler Building and back to the year that he desired. Of course, Price allows J to do the same. Once back in 1969, things get really trippy…but also ten times more exciting than they were before. Indeed, K has not died yet when J arrives in the past. Younger but just as alert and deadpan as ever, he is now played by Josh Brolin (who was a smart casting choice, given that he walks, talks, and acts kind of like Tommy Lee Jones); and K must convince him that Boris must be properly dealt with this time around.

Time travel isn’t the best excuse to bring back the “Men in Black” franchise, but Sonnenfeld is a good filmmaker and he populates “Men in Black III” with enough plot twists, exciting action set pieces, quirky characters, and elaborate aliens by Rick Baker to satisfy any fan of the movies (save for the second, which even a lot of the loyal followers of the franchise hated). For instance, there’s a good character played by Michael Stuhlbarg who provides a lot of comic relief while also possessing the ability to look into many forms of the future (it’s revealed that he can do this because he is an alien from a very distant planet). And then there’s Boris the Animal, who isn’t the most threatening villain you’re likely to see this year in cinema; but nonetheless, his lines are delightfully corny (“It’s JUST Boris!”) and Clement plays the part perfectly (under a lot of make-up, mind you). In the end, I’d have to say Brolin is the biggest surprise of the bunch; along with a touching twist ending that affectionately seeks to strengthen the emotional bond between the K and J characters.

I liked the film. The effects are thrilling, the action scenes are exciting, the characters are off-kilter, and the screenplay is clever enough to wrap them all up into one big ol’ satisfactory package. I also liked how the film evoked the era of the 60’s (Bill Hader does a hilarious Andy Warhol impression, and there’s groovy music and one very funny scene involving hippies to boot). Yes, the film has its flaws – most of the laughs are sporadic,  Smith and Jones cake-walk their way through all their scenes and seem eager for their pay-check, even though the former has some charisma and energy and the latter is only in the film for 20 minutes at the most – but these movies, what major Hollywood film does not? We have to embrace a good time like this, not shun it. “Men in Black III” probably won’t appeal to those who don’t like the series in the first place, but for anyone else who thought the second “Men in Black” was lacking so much as a soul, this one’s got pretty much EVERYTHING that it did not. At this point, I could say bring on “Men in Black IV”, although then again I realize it could go either way. But when Sonnenfeld and his team have their head 100% in the game, their passion is shown through the entertainment value of the finished product. So in this sense, I believe “Men in Black III” is sheer out-of-this-world fun.

Ghost Rider

* out of ****

Johnny Blaze (played by Matt Long as a teenager and Nicolas Cage as an adult) was but a young man when he made a dirty deal with the devil, Mephistopheles (Peter Fonda, clueless and joyless). A son to a father sick with cancer brought on from smoking too many cigarettes, he worked in the carnival business as an apprentice to his dad. Both were motorcycle stuntmen; and both were damn good at what they did too. Johnny’s talents had landed him a girlfriend named Roxanne (played by Raquel Alessi as a teen and Eva Mendes as an adult), with whom he had planned to run away with the day that the devil dropped in for a visit. The timely arrival put everything in Johnny’s life on hold. The deal was that his father’s illness would be cured, but not without a price; Johnny’s soul would now belong to the devil. And what does this mean exactly? Well, apparently it means something along the lines of: Johnny is now the new “Ghost Rider”, which means that he’s the alleged “bounty hunter of the damned”. As the Ghost Rider, his head goes ablaze and he dons a sweet new bike and a giant-ass chain-whip. He’s like some kind of superhero, which would make sense, since the story is derived from a Marvel comic book and its respective title character.

Most of the plot consists of the following: Johnny meeting up with his sweetheart Roxanne for the first time in years, fighting crime with his fire superpowers, and evading Blackheart (Wes Bentley), the son of Mephistopheles, as well as the three fallen angels that he has brought to earth with him. He offs each member of the trio one-by-one, all while attempting to maintain two lives at once. In one of the, he is Johnny Blaze the famous stuntman; and in the other, he is the Ghost Rider. A man known as the caretaker (Sam Elliot) happens upon Johnny at one point in the film and helps him to understand the true nature of the latter. He knows all about the history of the Ghost Rider…probably because he was once the Ghost Rider himself. But once a Ghost Rider, always a Ghost Rider; as the saying doesn’t go, because there never was and never will be a saying related to this film or the comics that inspired it. 

2007 was a pretty great year for movies, although for every 20-something modern masterpieces, there must be the epic stinkers. “Ghost Rider” is one of them. It’s a loud, distracting, stupid waste of celluloid. It has a lot of the ingredients of a modernized homage to exploitation cinema – firepower, a superhero background that could be used as a fetishistic element, big bikes, and babe such as Mendes – yet does not want to be that kind of movie. It takes itself too seriously for a film of its level of mind-numbing ignorance, and therein lies the reason for its failure. I have never read the Ghost Rider comics, but I can imagine that they are interesting and creative; unlike this unforgivable mess. This adaptation doesn’t even have the common courtesy of solid-looking sets or pretty special effects. In fact, for a 2007 film, this one looks pretty damn lame. Whenever Johnny’s mug lights up, I wanted to scream with laughter. It was hard preventing myself from doing so, but I managed.

The casting director for this film should never be allowed to lend their helping hand in another production again. This is one of the most grossly mis-cast movies I’ve come across in a long, long time. Virtually every actor involved seems eager to get their paycheck; and therefore the performances are mostly impassionate and forgettable. And then there are some that just plain suck. I’m sorry, but awesome as Fonda is, he doesn’t play the villain role very convincingly here. To play the devil, you must come across as both discreetly cunning and evil at the same time; while Fonda is simply neither.  It would be worth mentioning all the other bad actors if “Ghost Rider” had supplied me with enough to talk about, but alas, I don’t feel like talking about any of those people. The only actor who offered his services was Donal Logue, who somehow comes off as charming in every scene he’s in. It’s a shame then that he has to be surrounded by all this awful dialogue and all these bland performances. I’ll just call him the most inspired element of the film and leave it at that.

The premise could have made for a deep character study, or perhaps just a cool and action-packed superhero movie; but the fact of the matter is that director Mark Steven Johnson (“Daredevil”) doesn’t understand the material at all and therefore doesn’t know what to do with the themes and plot elements that he is given. I have faith that there can be a good adaptation of the Marvel comic if the story is put in the right hands of a superb craftsman, but until then, I guess we’ll just have to sit through more CGI-filled crapfests. And the saddest thing about that is that the CGI isn’t even that good. If you ask me, that should be a given for any good comic book movie. But you know what they say about those. They leap right from behind the screen and the surface of each page and immerse you in their world. Of “Ghost Rider”, I can say one thing is for certain; it doesn’t even make it to the page.

Men in Black II

* out of ****

Barry Sonnenfeld is one of those directors who just wants you to have a good time. That seems to be the motive behind each and every one of his motion pictures so far, and that must also be the motive of “Men in Black II”. But as I watched it, I realized in no time at all that this wasn’t a “good time”. This wasn’t entertaining, well-made, or funny. This wasn’t even half-decent. In fact, this was just down-right crummy. Sonnenfeld had brought an interesting and clever concept to the screen with the first “Men in Black”, which could be described in so many ways because yes, it’s really that good; although I would personally refer to it as a welcome comic spin on the alien invasion genre with an extra layer that evokes the atmosphere of a buddy comedy that was about a top secret organization that existed to hunt down the alien life forms living among us. It mixed science fiction, comedy, and action all at once, and the end results were most impressive. But as they say, a truly good idea can sometimes only work once; and this film does well to promote those words and the credibility of whoever said them. Here, all entertainment value, charm, and energy seem to have been sucked out of every frame; leaving behind a movie that is boring, annoying, and practically joyless. 

 

Five years after the events of “Men in Black”, Agent J (Will Smith) must find a new partner as Agent K (Tommy Lee Jones) has been neuralyzed and is now living a new life as a Massachusetts postmaster. The talking alien dog that was featured for about a minute or two in the original film now plays a larger role, as the first contestant for the spot that Agent K once upheld. However, nothing sticks, and Agent J seeks his old partner out yet again so that the agency may have him once again at their disposal (he is regarded as a legend back at the MIB headquarters). Also, the agency needs K back desperately; as a new threat has emerged – an alien seductress named Serleena (Lara Flynn Boyle) and her partner-in-crime, a two-headed trickster (Johnny Knoxville). K is the only one who possesses substantial information in regards to “The Light of Zartha”; which Serleena desires. The “light” is located on a bracelet worn by Laura Vasquez (Rosario Dawson), whose character exists in this plot for no other reason aside from to provide Agent J with a love interest.

It literally feels like everyone aboard is sleepwalking through every scene and every scenario. Will Smith has had much better days (although I don’t think it gets much worse than an un-charismatic performance for him), as has Tommy Lee Jones, who looks just plain unhappy to be here (and with good reason). Rip Torn returns as the head of the MIB, and he’s still pretty awesome; but his screen-time is far too limited. Meanwhile, the villainous Flynn Boyle is hardly villainous at all; just like Knoxville. They both give borderline awful performances completely devoid of any spirit whatsoever. Tony Shalhoub returns as the illegal weapons dealer Jeebs (the dude with the regenerating head, remember him?) and he’s one of the only ones here that emerges in-tact, but only because he plays his part so naturally. Frank the Pug provides some laughs, but just like the rest of the bland attempts at “humor”; the giggles are merely sporadic.

Nothing pisses me off more than a God-awful sequel to an awesome original. “Men in Black II” is utter rubbish in the sense that there isn’t a moment that it feels inspired or particularly exhilarating. Sonnenfeld doesn’t seem to be that passionate about the whole affair; which is evident in the fact that, for the most part, not even the visuals are fun to look at. The action scenes are boring, the effects are silly, and the cinematography is…well, I guess they’re safe there. And as for Rick Baker’s newest alien creations; well, the practical creature effects are nice but the CGI is meh. Therefore, the creatures are rarely exciting and never get a decent chance to shine. My guess is that the studio is mostly responsible for the failure of this one. Or maybe it was the fact that “Men in Black” did not require a sequel unless the writer(s) and director(s) knew where they wanted to take the characters and the franchise in a whole, yet they decided to make one for the hell of it (and for the money, obviously). Oh God, someone please just neuralyze my ass.

Men in Black

***1/2 out of ****

As humans, we assume that we are alone on this earth, but we are wrong. Extraterrestrials hop from planet to planet, and eventually they will land on ours. More than likely, they’ll choose to stay. Some are peaceful and some are hostile. For the latter group, we have a top secret organization known as the Men in Black; an agency which is practically untouchable that consists of men in black suits. They work behind the scenes while the human race continues to thrive; they fend off aliens, remove the somewhat civilized ones from our society (since a lot of them happen to be particularly good at “blending in”), and prevent large-scale invasions from happening. Wherever there is an alien looking for trouble – or just an alien at all – the men in black are there as well. And as for anyone else who is there, well, their memories are erased by a small metallic neuralyzer with a red square at the top that communicates its powers through the naked eye and to the brain. This is how the men in black have continued to remain under wraps for all this time. Nobody knows where or who they are. There’s but a single catch to recruitment; and that is that the person being recruited will have their name and their identity erased from history. To just about everyone outside of the agency, they do not exist; but I suppose this is for the better.

Enter Agent K (Tommy Lee Jones), one of the men in black, who has been a part of the agency for a while now. His former partner has just retired after an incident on the Mexican border that opens the film, and he must find a new partner to fill in for his old one. That is where James Darrell Edwards (Will Smith), a young police officer, comes in. We first see him as he is chasing a strange man through the streets of Manhattan. The end of the road is at the top of a building, where the man purposely allows himself to fall backwards onto the street below, but not before uttering a few words pertaining to the destruction of our world as we know it. Next thing he knows, James is talking to Agent K; who hears almost instantly about the street chase and is intrigued to know more. After their meeting, James has his memory hijacked by the neuralyzer and is told by K to show up at the MIB headquarters the next day. He does so, and finds out that he is a part of a group assembled by K himself to determine who is most fit to be his partner. Of course, James impresses in rather unconventional ways; and lands himself a spot as the organization’s newest agent. His name is reduced to a single letter, J.

Meanwhile, a member of an alien race that looks almost identical to cockroaches is at war with several others over an intergalactic object known as The Galaxy. One of these aliens comes to earth and takes over the body (and skin, and brain) of a farmer named Edgar (Vincent D’Onofrio). The alien – known simply as The Bug – wants the Galaxy so that it can restore its space-ship and hit the proverbial “play” button on the in-coming invasion. But the Galaxy lies on a chain on the neck of a pet cat (whose owner happens to be an alien of an opposing race), and The Bug only keeps making its own problems. However, J and K will have something to say about his plans by the end of the day; armed with futuristic weapons, a kick-ass car that can transform, and plenty of other quirky gadgets at their disposal.

“Men in Black” is a very clever spin on the whole alien invasion genre that manages to be better than most of the other lackluster entries. It has all the fancy special effects and meticulously designed aliens that those have, but it also has the charm and humor that they lack. It never takes itself too seriously, and director Barry Sonnenfeld clearly wants us in on all the fun he was having while making the film. There are some ingenious post-modern parables between the plot and real-life “aliens”; hence, the racial tensions in America. The film does not force-feed these elements, and they only serve as side themes, but its better off that way in my opinion. What Sonnenfeld is focused on is fun, and he delivers that in wholesome doses. First off, flawless casting. Smith and Jones make a pitch-perfect dynamic duo; and their supporting actors back them up quite a bit. Rip Torn plays Zed, the head of the MIB organization; there’s a lady who works at the city morgue (Linda Fiorentino); Tony Shalhoub plays a illegal weapons-dealing alien with a regenerating head. The human characters are mostly typical, but there’s energy in every performance. Now, on to the aliens. They are the work of famed make-up artist Rick Baker, who is a crafty hand at brining whacked-out creatures and aliens to the screen. Here, you have a bag full of goodies; twig-like bug aliens that pour the men in black’s coffee, little big-brained aliens that operate machine-like human heads (they disguise themselves underneath them), and ugly as all hell giant bugs.

I laughed a lot and was consistently entertained. There is some really good filmmaking going on here; the camerawork is inventive, the effects are pretty damn spectacular (well, for their time), and the humor is off-kilter. Some of it feels dated, just like the special effects. But you know, most of it still works. For instance, an infant squid alien projectile vomiting right into Will Smith’s face never gets old. It’s gross but it’s also sort of charming, if you catch my drift. “Men in Black” is a smart, smooth, hip, exciting piece of pure popcorn entertainment; with enough aliens and action to satisfy any genre buff. It mixes science fiction with action and with comedy, with the results being very good indeed. If you are to approach it, ask yourself what entertainment means. To me, it simply means “Men in Black”; in this case, at least. To others, it might mean “Independence Day” (which also starred Will Smith, and was also quite fun). The two crowds can merge for this particular cinematic event. The appeal isn’t just universal; it’s intergalactic. Sonnenfeld and his crew take the alien invasion genre, put some black shades on it, and – as Will Smith’s character Agent J says – make “these” look good.

The Dead (2011)

*** out of ****

“The Dead” possesses all the bare essentials of a zombie movie. That shouldn’t be enough for it to succeed, yet here we are; with a respectable and well-made horror film with part-time elements of a road movie. Howard and Jonathan Ford (credited as The Ford Brothers) direct this familiar and not-so-original but nevertheless exciting take on the genre of the undead, demonstrating that they can uphold the task of making a few movies in one. Their film would not have been as good as it is without the desire to dabble in all sorts of different things. When it comes to succeeding in those things, it does not always work; but the fact that it tried and failed to truly embarrass itself proves that it’s a worthy edition to the genre, which has grown so tired over the years that even George Romero – the man who re-invented it some time ago – has been shelling out disappointment after disappointment. The Ford Brothers take his signature slow zombies and do something interesting – although not necessarily new – with them.

A military plane crashes somewhere in the oceans of Africa. Lt. Brian Murphy (Rob Freeman) is able to make it to the nearest beach by morning, already aware of what will be waiting for him upon arrival. While in the plane, we saw another human who was severely wounded come back to life and bite another man on the hand, ripping his very flesh from the bone. It would appear that the dead are returning to life, hungry for human flesh, just as they have in some other 1000+ films. The lieutenant held on to a crate that contained guns and ammunition throughout his trip from the water to the shore, and he uses these tools to defend himself until he can find other forms of civilization. He comes across a village, where one of the other establishing scenes takes place. The zombies, as slow as they are, can still cause a lot of havoc; we see fires, dead bodies everywhere, and people getting bitten in spite of their ability to run faster than these…things. 

While exploring the abandoned village, the Lieutenant finds another survivor; an African soldier named Daniel (Prince David Osei), who is searching for his son (who could have either died or escaped at this point). They team up so that they may survive using their collective weapons and ammunition, although the places they go are always swarming with the undead, and those who are alive are nowhere to be found. But, as can be expected, the more they search, the more they find. Eventually they’ll have to run into others who have been just as fortunate – if not more, or less – as they are. You can see where the plot is going from a mile away. But what wasn’t ingeniously designed plot-wise was translated to mood and a spectacularly high body count of zombies. And that’s exactly what horror fans want.

A lot of the film was shot in Burkina Faso, and already we come to what is perhaps the film’s one truly unique and distinctive feature. One of the brothers – Jon – was the cinematographer and did an excellent job filling in that role. “The Dead” was shot, to my knowledge, on 35mm film and mostly on-location; so the sense of realism is 100% there. The scenery is beautiful even though horrible, violent things happen in the wilderness surrounding the worthwhile sights, and the film pays a lot of attention to the heat and the sand, perhaps hoping to establish a sort of post-apocalyptic aesthetic. The Brothers could have made an attempt to render their film a zombie part-time Western flick, although they don’t seem to have big ideas or intentions. They are building upon things that have already been laid out and set in stone, but what they do with these things is what counts. You’ve got a movie that essentials looks and feels really good, with two solid central performances and an abundance of gore to please the blood-hounds in the audience. Maybe it’s just me, but I found it all to be kind of badass.

The Ford Brothers never lose sight of the human story that is at the center of their film, even if it could have used a little more seasoning and development. The two main characters roam around on their own for a little bit before meeting up, but once they do, there’s some real chemistry; even if it’s mostly discreet. Don’t expect many humorous scenes between the two, as this is one of those dead serious zombie flicks, but what you should expect is that they will make a good team; which they kind of do. If they are to part ways, they do not hope to know one another ever again. They treat kicking zombie ass like a business; not a partnership. They are not friends, nor really acquaintances; just people in a wasteland full of the mentally inhuman. This may not be enough “depth” to satisfy those viewers in search of deeper meaning and philosophy, and the film might work best with the hardcore zombie fanatics exclusively; but “The Dead” will someday find an audience that respects and enjoys it as much as I did, and it will deserve those people about as much as they deserve it.

Dazed and Confused

**** out of ****

Perhaps I grew up in the wrong generation. The last day of school – when in High School – has never been a “thing” for me, at least not in my town, based on my own experiences. But Richard Linklater’s “Dazed and Confused” treats it as the big-ass, all-important, life-changing event that it probably should be regarded as. The first shot is of an orange car pulling out of the parking lot in slow motion while Aerosmith’s “Sweet Emotion” plays over these heavily dramatized movements. This is truly what an establishing shot should be; it sets up the tone of the rest of the film and gives the viewer a taste of what is to come; well, basically. To summarize the experience of watching it would take a scene of such bipolar mood swings and schizophrenic energy that it might be dismissed by most movie-goers as either pretentious or down-right unbearable. So Linklater is intelligent not to attempt something so ambitious as this, and instead takes a more simplistic route. The rest is the opening credits, which are accompanied by a montage of the main characters – high schoolers, no less – as they both prepare for the last day of school (for the year) and escape it all-together.

Of course, Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out” must play when school literally does get out for everyone; High Schoolers and Middle School youngsters alike. The former chases the latter with wooden bats (that all look conveniently identical) on the male end of the spectrum. When it comes to the female side, the freshman girls are degraded on school grounds – in parking lots, in cars, and otherwise – by the seniors. Freshman Mitch Kramer (Wiley Wiggins) knows he’s in for a beating, and he gets one; and he’s got an entire summer of taking shit from older folk to look forward to. However, just as he’s finishing his current session; a young athlete named Randall “Pink” Floyd (Jason London) arrives and offers him a ride home. He then invites Mitch to a big party which is to go on that night; even though the original plans have been thwarted by angry parents. The teenagers of “Dazed and Confused”, living in the year of 1976, are depraved and determined when it comes to fighting for their right to party.

The film resembles most high school comedies. There is an elaborate cast of memorable characters, classic movie quotes abound, drug and alcohol content, a penchant for irreverent humor often pertaining to sex, and a heart at the core that never stops beating. And in the case of this film…it’s best to put a big old emphasis on “never”. Focusing less on plot and characters and more on situational comedy/drama, the film takes us from afternoon to evening to night to dawn; chronicling the party, the rides there, the hang-outs at local clubs, the vandalism in between, and the coming-of-age realizations of the younger characters. Mitch Kramer is one of two younger characters in the film to feel a little more grown up by the end; the other is a freshman girl named Sabrina Davis (Christin Hinojosa), who falls for a senior boy who happens to also fall for her. It all works out in the end, even if bad decisions are made; although one of my favorite aspects of Linklater’s brilliant film is that it doesn’t attempt to moralize the actions of its characters. No sugarcoating, no preaching; no nothing. It embraces the fact that experiences make us better and more intellectually advanced as people, and that some of our best experiences happen at a young age.

Linklater assembled a pretty large cast for the production, consisting of people we’ve seen before but in the films that followed – like Ben Affleck, Matthew McConaughey, Adam Goldberg, Milla Jovovich, Parker Posey, and Joey Lauren Adams – as well as people that became virtually nothing after this (Shawn Andrews, Wiley Wiggins, Rory Cochrane, Jason London). All the same, the cast does a truly exceptional job at channeling a consistent party attitude. The characters are not characters in the traditional sense; they represent groups of people or individuals – not necessarily clichés – amongst the High School crowd. The football jocks, the nerds, the stoners; they’re all here, seemingly ripped straight from your own life. I feel the film is most successful in portraying these people on film as we see them in reality, and yet the greatest achievement is that “Dazed and Confused” still counts as great escapism. It captures the 70’s culture and sensibilities a lot better than most movies do through a kick-ass soundtrack, spectacular costume design that evokes the decade and dialogue that could very well have matched the people of the times. I would not know. But I’d expect Linklater does. So I will trust him on this one. Yes indeed I will.

Some people find Linklater’s style pretentious and almost needy. I’ve heard people claim that he’s desperate for attention in everything he does – from his more casual features to his philosophical pieces – although I’ve never seen a hint of self-indulgence in his work. He makes movies to entertain both the audience and himself. He lets us in on the fun that he had making each film, and has a sense of humor and eye for humanity that resonates with a lot of movie-goers. It certainly resonates with this one. I think Linklater would be at his worst when dealing with fiction narratives; and at his best when writing stories with key elements taking from his own experiences in life. His visions of a 1976 American High School are almost romantic; with his camera never shying away from a chance to snag a sight that is – in all honesty – profound. The cinematography is excellent and looks just the right shade of “old”, to immerse us in this superb little period piece. This couldn’t have been made now, or at least not in the same way. People are still cashing in on the success of the film and many others that preceded it, but I guess that’s how the film business goes. “Dazed and Confused” is not original, but it doesn’t have to be. The great thing about movies like this one is that it’s more about the performance than the material.