Unlucky 13

Okay...there's no way I'm going to make 31 scary movie reviews in October. No. Way. Besides the fact that the frikkin' Blockbuster doesn't carry some of the films I wanted to review (believe or not, no TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, no SUSPIRIA) and my Netflix has been busy catching me up on Battlestar Galactica (damn that show is great!), I would have to skip work and watch an additional 20+ movies AND find something remotely interesting to say about them.

So it ain't gonna happen. Uh -uh. Nope.

There WILL be 13 movies, though. THAT I can guarantee. Got 'em sittin' here right now, including one that just got released that is one of my ALL TIME FAVORITE movies period.

All that by the end of the weekend PLUS the by-now obvious announcement that I've had to sit on for the past 3 weeks.

Oh, and another trip to Milwaukee soon. Hooray.

Spooky Review #9: Broken Lizard's Club Dread (2004)

I know a lot of people that swear by the comedy of Broken Lizard. And man, I tried watching SUPER TROOPERS. Saw it twice so far, and while I think it's funny, I wasn't ready to proclaim them the next coming or anything. In this I know I differ with a lot of people.

I also know I'm going to differ with those same people for another reason: I loved CLUB DREAD, and find it in leaps and bounds the better film.

I think the reason it works (certainly much better than FEAST) is because, instead of taking a horror film and trying to make it funny, they took a comedy and made it horrific. And by "horrific" I mean "as scary as your typical FRIDAY THE 13TH film" which was the point, even nodding to the film in question in a hilarious boat scene.

Vacationers travelling to Pleasure Island are coming for two things: getting drunk and getting laid. And that exactly what Coconut Pete (Bill Paxton) and his staff are there to provide - it's Heaven if Heaven was run by the dude who puts out those Girls Gone Wild videos. Unfortunately, the wacky staff (played by the Broken Lizard troop) pissed somebody off with their antics, because now they're slowly being murdered one by one. Is it the crazy obsessive gymnast? The put-upon nephew of Coconut Pete? Or the new masseuse, fresh off the boat and with secrets of his own?

The movie benefits from a few things - as always the chemistry between the cast is great. Roles are reversed from the earlier SUPER TROOPERS, with director Jay Chandrasekhar this time playing the prick-ish Putnam, and scene stealer Kevin Heffernan taking the heroic lead. The majority of the comedy is character-driven, playing to everyone's advantage. And the troop brings enough great lines so that the rest of cast isn't left behind as window dressing, though they of course save the best for themselves. I will forever attempt to use the line "Who else knew he was uncircumcised, and smelled of oranges?"

As for the scares, they're firmly rooted in the slasher pics of the early 80's, but instead of playing the horror off for laughs, Chandrasekhar wisely plays them straight most of the time. The blood and gore is realistic and frightening, even when it's spurting from a man dressed as a pear:

Please, someone put together a version of Pac-Man like this NOW, please!

You really have no idea who the killer is, and there's no reason to try and guess in CLUB DREAD. The focus here is purely on the laughs; any screams or jumps are free of charge. Perfectly fun movie, and I'm convinced I have to check out SUPER TROOPERS again.

Ringu (1998)

The movie opens with an image of water - dark, rolling waves pulling slowly back. Cut to two girls chatting in a typical teen bedroom - one tells a story she heard about some kids that, after watching a TV show got a message saying they'd die in seven days. The other girl, Tomoko, freezes; she demands to know where she heard the story. Shaken, she then tells her own story: she and a few friends went up to a cabin for the weekend and watched a mysterious videotape, followed by a phone call saying they'll die in seven days. After a tense moment, Tomoko giggles to relieve the tension. All seems fine until the phone rings...

RINGU plays with many different conventions, and is a classic example of what is now commonly referred to as "J-Horror" - films that come out of Japan (and now other Asian countries) focusing on dread, ghosts, and unrepentant evil from the past, among other things. Director Hideo Nataka plays the opening with maximum tension, using a studied knowledge of teen behavior and movie horror to set the scene correctly. He does this with small flourishes - the phone call that turns out to be nothing more than a concerned parent, the careful disarray of clothing as the police examine another murder scene - this time two kids who died at exactly the same moment in a parked, locked car.

One of the great things about the beginning of the movie is exactly how the story of the cursed videotape is told - as reporter and heroine Asakawa listens to different school girls tell their versions, we are witness to the creation of urban legend - nothing is completely correct, yet all version hold grains of fact to be nurtured into an ultimately terrifying truth.

As Asakawa and her ex-husband Ruyji race to decipher the meaning of the video and the means to end their own impending doom, Nataka again balances the terror and the relationship between the two protagonists. The horror and tension that occurs works precisely because we grow to care about these two people - their entire time together the repressed feeling that lay in their divorce are constantly threatening to stop simmering and come to the surface.

The use of sound and repeated images (reflections in the television, the long dark hair, etc...) add to the suspense. And what about the famous ending? I've found few things that have been as disturbing. If you've never seen the movie before and walked in not knowing what was going to happen, you'll never guess what awaits.

Completely satisfying, with a nod to THE TERMINATOR at the very end that leaves you feeling with a sense of dread you'll carry for a while after the television shuts off.

Feast (2005)

Of all the death that occurs in FEAST, the most appropriate killing blow is not to one of the characters, but to Project Greenlight, whose record of finding mediocre talent to write and direct mediocre films can finally be put to rest with this incredible disappointment of a movie.

FEAST purports to be an "innovative mix" of comedy and horror, featuring cult actors and buckets of unrated gore and gross-out humor that was supposedly too much for anyone to actually release theatrically. I can only think this over the top moment refers to when one of the beasts in the movie has their genitalia chopped off, where it falls down the stairs and proceeds to spill its milky contents over the floor. Or perhaps it's when one of the beasts in the opening of the film humps a bull head mounted over a bar (I won't metion the scene with the one-legged girl and the oral monster sex...or will I?)? Hopefully you're starting to get the drift of what's going on here.

The film concerns a crazy group of people trapped in a bar by a family of crazy fast toothy monsters who for some bizarre reason decided they weren't creepy enough so they covered themselves in roadkill. The bar patrons are the "feast" over the course of the evening.

It actually starts off with some tongue-in-cheek promise: The titles are done with a handheld 8mm camera. Roadkill is picked up off the road and the words FEAST come on the screen. Jump cut to 35mm and a car crash, and we're off to the bar. The main characters are introduced in freezes similar to the opening titles of The A-Team: we learn the names, occupations, and chances of survival in the picture. Suddenly a bloody man races into the bar holding a shotgun in one hand and the head of one of the creatures in the other. There's 4 of these things, and they're heading right for the bar. "Who are you?" they ask.

"I'm the guy that's gonna save your ass," he replies, seconds before he's ripped through a window and decapitated.

The rest of the movie is a tired retread of dozens of other, better movies. The creatures are only seen in flashes, the better to hide how ridiculous they look. The acting ranges from eh to ahhh, eh. But that's pretty much expected when your cast includes Henry Rollins, Jason Mewes and World Champion of the World Judah Friedlander. And they're the best things in the movie.

Just plain bad, folks. Project Greenlight went 3-for-3 with crappy flicks, and here's hoping the carnage of FEAST puts that green light to red for good.

argh...

The only thing worse than using a supposedly "wireless" solution that's slower than dial-up is having no choice but to do it in the Tampa airport because your flight's been delayed since 4:45PM until further notice.

I am not a very happy camper.

Plus the firmware in my .mp3 player flat lined last night, forcing me to download a new version which subsequently erased my entire 30 gig library, leaving me with whatever was lying around on my laptop's hard drive. Fortunately I had a few good things left from some burning I did for a co-worker. Right now I'm listening to The Process of Belief by Bad Religion, which is 100% bona-fied da rock. Here's the scene from the terminal right now:

Yeah, I know...hard to tell, but believe me this is a desperate bunch. The plane is just sitting out there in our field of vision, mocking our every longing glance. Other, more fortunate people enter and leave the assorted gates that surround us. I can see planes passing by as they taxi towards the runway for departures to parts unknown.

And all we have here are free sodas and potato chips.

I ate a bag of potato chips. Sue me.

Elsewhere in the world, looks like the Mets will have the whole winter to think about how, with bases loaded, Beltran could possibly strike out LOOKING. It boggles the mind.

I spoke to Mrs. Voss a little while ago; she is in the throes of an enormous bout of the crankies - it might be better that I'm not getting home until late tonight. The only thing though is, she has to work the weekend, so it leaves little time for us to be together, and I want to make sure I'm there as much as possible during the rough beginning weeks. As much as I enjoy the weekends to myself, I'd rather she have off this weekend so she can just simply rest while I take care of the house stuff.

Began writing up another horror review, this one for an oldie but a goodie - should be up by tomorrow. Also saw that FEAST finally was released on DVD - might try to catch that this weekend for another review.

Okay...flight update. Strong winds are holding us up. With luck we should be boarding around 8:00 PM. Which isn't bad, except I've been here since 3:00PM. Now listening to Robot Hive/Exodus by Clutch. Everyone who claims to rock should own this record. It never leaves my car stereo.

Have a couple contenders so far for Book of the Year. It's currently a three-way between The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami, No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy, and Life of Pi by Yann Martel. Right now I'm taking a break by starting Dr. Bloodmoney by Philip K. Dick. And as soon as it begins snowing I start the back-breaking task of reading Marcel Proust's In Search of Lost Time.

Does it seem like I'm looking for things to say here? Probably. It takes my mind off the mocking laughter emanating from Flight 28, which continues to snicker and smirk from the tarmac.

Bastard...