I’d like to start off by wishing a “Happy Birthday” to a warm-hearted human being and a cold-blooded entertainer – Tony Ryan…what’s up?

Lionsgate goes OFF this week with a batch of Miramax flicks from the euphoric heights of their “spend a few million on lavish parties for Acadamy voters” phase. We get Cold Mountain, The English Patient, Frida, The Piano, and Exhibit A for the prosecution: Shakespeare in Love. I think The Piano is an intense sorta’ fucked flick, and The English Patient is often gorgeous (and it has been said the transfer here might be the first to truly capture the theatrical look of the film), but…yeah – those films…they have a kind of ignominious taint to them. Do people really even remember Cold Mountain?

Also, TRANSFORMERS: DARK OF THE MOON in 3D also debuts this week. Now you’ll swear that a robot can nut in your eye. I love 3D. But I also love human life. There’s a conflict…

FERNANDO DI LEO CRIME COLLECTION

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So here’s a batch of Eurocrime from one of the primo purveyors of Poliziotteschi (EXCELSIOR!), Fernando Di Leo. There are four films in the set – and all three of the direttore’s Milieu Trilogy rated the riscossione: Milano calibro 9 aka Caliber 9 (Barbara Bouchet!!), La mala ordina aka Manhunt aka The Italian Connection, featuring Woody Strode and Henry Silva as Jules Winfield and Vincent Vega (but not quite. But yeah), and Il Boss aka The Boss aka Wipeout!, with Henry Silva as a mob button-man taking out key guys in a rival gang, and paying a price for it, natch.

Also included, the always-leathery Jack Palance in Rulers of the City (co-starring AL CLIVER!!!).

DREAM HOUSE

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What looks to be a project crafted as a tax write-off or to satisfy contractual obligations turns out to be Daniel Craig’s finest hour – ‘cause he totally ended up nailing Rachel Weiss. Did he fear the fury of Liev enough to refrain from taking a shot at Watts, as well? Who knows, Highlander…who knows?  James Bond is a dick. Team Aronofsky 4 Lyfe.

I have no idea…

DRIVE

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ALSO – JUST ‘CAUSE.

What the fuck am I supposed to be able to tell you about Drive? That it is an incredible piece of fantasy filmmaking? That it’s a towering achievement in nerd wish-fulfillment? That it’s an astounding example of style over substance (over style…over substance…over style)? That it’s a triumph of heart over both style and substance? That it’s catnip and salve for every wounded asshole with a hero complex? That it’s an extended episode of Miami Vice with no network censors and Crockett and Tubbs on the cutting room floor? That it’s one of the most artfully-rendered action films in the history of cinema – unless you’re aware of the fact that Nicholas Winding Refn has been doing this for awhile now, and is pretty-much superhuman? That I loved every minute of this film, and wish that the rest of Gosling’s career amounted to weekly sequels to Drive? That I have a reoccurring dream wherein Ryan Gosling snapped while filming this and is now just the Driver and I’m his sidekick and we end up fighting crime in elevators all over the greater Los Angeles area while wooing wispy girls by just staring at them with love and longing?

You guys should just probably by Drive.

GRAND CANYON

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Grand Canyon is one of those sprawling Altman-esque tales of people on different journeys that all lead to the same place, made with the hope that you will be moved. Is it successful? Is it pandering? In the hands of Lawrence Kasdan, it’s a bit of both. But one of the things Grand Canyon does that I think is really profound is that it calls Boomers out on their failure as stewards of this country and society – which, in light of his previous triumphs, speaks well of Kasdan. Additionally, this is a film that handles race in a more nuanced way than something like Crash. Canyon wipes its ass with that abysmal Oscar montage. Also – Steve Martin is brilliant in this.

OUTRAGE

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Beat Takashi Kitano has been – in his own words – “creatively destroying” his career for awhile now. Pretty much since Dolls in 2002. He’s been confounding expectations and swimming in experimental waters. In the near-decade since his oddball Zatoichi redux (which I adore, by the by), Takashi has returned to the quirky comedy that built his castle, and he’s made at least one attempt at being utterly inscrutable (2005’s Takashis’ – where he meets his own doppelganger and things get weird/dark/violent) – but Outrage would seem to be a return to form – or at least to the violent gangster pictures he cemented his American Art House reputation with. How successful was it? Outrage 2 is on the way.

TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD

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I have aspired since I was a child to be as gentle, wise, dignified, and courageous as Gregory Peck’s Atticus Finch, but I just end up punching racists in the face more often than not. You need to own this film, and you need to understand, and you need to try to be Atticus Finch. As a parent – be Atticus Finch. As a man – Be Atticus Finch. As a human being – Be Atticus Finch. As a real hero – BE ATTICUS FINCH.

Of course, my version of Atticus stalks the streets of Maycomb with a sawed-off, wasting every fucker responsible for that bullshit conviction…

1.31.2012

NOW

2 Headed Shark Attack
Adaptation
B Gata H Kei: Yamada’s First Time The Complete Series
Best Picture Academy Award Winners Collection
The Big Year
Cold Mountain
Das Boot
The Double
Dream House
Drive
The English Patient
Fairy Tail: Part 3
Fat City New Orleans
Fernando Di Leo Crime Collection
Frida
Grand Canyon
In Time
Into the Universe with Stephen Hawking
Monkeybone
Night Train Murders
Nothing In Common
Outrage: Way of the Yakuza
Phantom: Requiem for the Phantom
The Piano
Poirot: Series 1
Poirot: Series 2
Queen: Days of Our Lives
Richard Thompson: Live at Celtic Connection
The Scout
Shakespeare In Love
Snow Buddies
A Soldier’s Story
Star Trek: The Next Generation – The Next Level
Styx: The Grand Illusion / Pieces Of Eight Live
Texas Killing Fields
The Thing
To Kill A Mockingbird
Treasure Buddies
WWE: The Best of Raw & Smackdown 2011

LEONARD COHEN – OLD IDEAS

When you’re heading on toward 80, it’s time to settle back, relax, and look with satisfaction at a career that sees you as one of the most respected, oft-covered, songwriters of your century. Unless, that is, your longtime manager swindles you out of your life savings… in which case you haul your bad back up off the couch, schlep yourself all over the globe, spend three years stunning audiences around the world with amazing live performances, release a pair of albums documenting them, then drag yourself back home. “And after all that,” as Dan Aykroyd, in the persona of Tom Snyder, once asked Ray Charles, “would I have the blues?” Well, damn right, says Cohen, who’s decided that this is the ideal time for him to cut his first blues album.

OK, it’s not quite what you might be imagining: there’s no real 12-bar I-IV-V going on here. But the sounds and styles of the songs are in a tradition that Cohen acknowledges as received, while demonstrating its ability to limn the experiences of a bohemian Jewish hipster as effectively as that of a Mississippi sharecropper: songs like “Amen” and “Show Me The Place” are steeped in gospel and blues iconography, which Cohen makes wholly personal.

“I’d like to speak with Leonard,” begins the sly opening track, “he’s a lazy bastard living in a suit.”  Old Ideas is an album full of similar rueful self-knowledge:  “Show me the place I’ve forgotten I don’t know,” “I’m old, and the mirrors don’t lie.” And the familiar blues trope of bein’ done wrong brings out some of Cohen’s most trenchant writing: “Crazy has places to hide in that are deeper than any goodbye.” The recording is impeccable, with Cohen’s gravelly whisper of a voice captured with startling intimacy.

Cohen’s time on the road seems to have made him more comfortable working with a band (as opposed to the synth-heavy sound of much of his earlier studio work), and even more than on the live albums, the musicians here support him ideally, never getting in the way; my one reservation is that the female chorus continues to be too on-the-nose, with their participation always being just a shade too obvious and overbearing in terms of placement and timing. “The Darkness,” a gorgeous blues shuffle, is Cohen at his best: the valedictory quality of lines like “I’ve got no future / I know my days are few,” and “I thought the past would last me / But the darkness got that too,” are undermined by the music’s fierce determination, and its ambiguity (is he saying goodbye to life… or to yet another faithless lover?).  A young man staring into the abyss fears a life unlived, potential unfulfilled: Cohen surely knows that he’s in no danger of either of those, but for all his willingness to smile into death’s face, he’s still got the restlessness of youthful ambition: he’s already planning to get back out on the road again, hopefully with much of this album in the set.

LANA DEL REY – BORN TO DIE

Being the perpetually behind-the-curve type that I am, I wasn’t aware of this woman’s existence until I learned that her very presence on the music scene was controversial. You probably know the story better than I do: mousy blond singer-songwriter can’t get traction with a couple of indie-folk releases and reinvents herself as redhead bombshell magpie, working the kitchen-sink side of the street, borrowing bits and pieces from whatever’s dominating Youtube at the moment. And the critical consensus, up to this point, seems to be that we should set aside all the controversy and folderol and “just focus on the music,” but I dunno… that feels pretty last-century to me.

Born To Die is the kind of artifact that you get from, say, Lady Gaga, Foster the People, or Sleigh Bells, where the making of the art is as much about your reaction to it-indeed, depends on it-as it is anything intrinsic in the work itself. “Pumped Up Kicks” would be quickly forgotten as a nagging McDonald’s ad of a tune if its point wasn’t to have listeners figure out halfway through that they’re singing along with this generation’s “I Don’t Like Mondays.” Similarly, Lana Del Rey’s artistry is as much about the viewer’s complicity in the fantasy-in the forbidden synchronicity between the buttoned-up Bible-school girl on the album cover and the Daisy Duke’d sexpot in the latest EW-as it is about the music that accompanies it. And what Del Rey and her peers understand is that the feedback and forwarding possible in the Internet age create a shared context for their work that Bob Geldof needed an army of superstars and millions of dollars’ worth of publicity to achieve (granted, for a different song, but who the hell listens to “We Are The World” anymore?). So, as she lays her husky pipes against a jazz-hop music bed that feels like Caro Emerald once removed, or a David Lynch film reimagined for an episode of Glee, the listener gets the nagging feeling that there’s something missing: the received melancholy of a song like “Video Games” makes more contextual sense when it’s your gateway to a sidebar of videos that “you may also be interested in.” And lines like “Money is the reason we exist / Everybody knows it / It’s a fact / Kiss Kiss” and “Do you think you’ll buy me lots of diamonds?” might sneak up on you if the singer hasn’t already billed herself as the “gangsta Nancy Sinatra.”  Name-checking Nabokov once is a nicely dropped hint; calling another song “Lolita” is just blowing your cover. I don’t know that Born To Die is exactly an album I’d listen to more than once or twice, but I won’t be remotely surprised if Lana Del Rey, as a concept, turns out to have some staying power.

GOTYE – MAKING MIRRORS

I was originally pointed toward Walter Da Backer aka Gotye as a natural pairing with Mayer Hawthorne, and while there are hints of Hawthorne’s retro-soul peeking through, Gotye brings a rather different perspective: if Hawthorne is filtering Curtis and Levi through the perspective of the blue-eyed soul men of the 70’s like Boz Scaggs and Michael McDonald, Gotye’s jumped ahead a decade or to so grab the synth-soul of 80’s icons like Soft Cell or Yaz. Part of that distinction is the somewhat more ephemeral nature of much of that 80’s music: every decade has its one-hit wonders, but in the 80’s, for every Culture Club or Simply Red there were a dozen Kajagoogoos, Joboxers, or Escape Clubs. Not to say that Gotye is destined for similar instant obsolescence—far from it—but he does seem to have a great ear for the tiny compositional bits and pieces that can set a tune to nagging in your brain.

I only heard Gotye’s 2006 Like Drawing Blood after I’d listened to Making Mirrors, but the growth is immediately obvious: the tracks are tighter, the writing better focused. The album opens on the soothing, Eno-style synthwash of the title song, but Backer makes his real opening statement with the insistent beat and slashing guitar figure that drive “Easy Way Out,” sounding for all the world like a trip-hop “Ticket to Ride.” That’s followed by the back-to-back punch of “Somebody That I Used to Know” and “Eyes Wide Open,” where we can hear the way Becker’s singing has grown and developed: not a lot of range, but plenty of dynamics, and the bitterness of the lyrics is underlaid with the careful deployment of unsettling synth effects. “I Feel Better” has the easy faux-Motown charm of Hall & Oates at their best, while it’s easy to imagine “Save Me” blasting out of the boombox (laptop? iPhone?) of a next-generation Lloyd Dobler. At this point, I need several more listens before I’ll feel I’ve got to the bottom of stuff like “Don’t Worry We’ll Be Watching You” or “Bronte;” Making Mirrors is an album that I expect will reveal new facets as it grows on me for the rest of the year.

ASTEROIDS GALAXY TOUR – OUT OF FREQUENCY

One of my favorite recent albums, the Go! Team’s Rolling Blackouts, was released in early 2011, and pretty much forgotten by year’s end. Which was a pity, as I didn’t hear a more cheerful appropriation of pop-music flotsam and jetsam all year. Fortunately, I don’t appear to be the only one who remembers, as Denmark’s Asteroids Galaxy Tour are confirmed disciples, and on their second full-length release, they’re grabbing for bits of the B-52’s, Abba, Esquivel, Goldfrapp, the Belle Stars, Stereolab, and Talking Heads, mixing up a similar, if even lighter-weight, pop confection.

I don’t know if it’s confidence, or a genuine naïveté, that buries the irresistible dance beat of “Heart Attack” five tracks deep: most bands would kill for a hook like this one, and would not only lead with it, but probably reprise it at the end. There’s more dance-floor goodness in “Fantasy Friend Forever” and “When It Comes To Us,” while “Suburban Space Invader” and “Dollars in the Night” have an in-your-face brattiness. Though I have the idea that this is more a rotating collective than an actual band, guitarist Mads Nielsen does nicely chameleon-like work, anchoring the dizzy range of influences and styles.

The album’s certainly not perfect (that would almost defeat the purpose): confection’s great, but the Go! Team’s success at adding some depth to their bag of tricks (“Buy Nothing Day” or “Voice Yr Choice” for instance) goes blissfully unnoticed here; the sneer of “Get a car / Get a gun” is about as deep as this bunch goes. Too, singer Mette Lindberg’s squeaky chops aren’t more than a step or two up from the Chipettes, and when she wails the title track over one of the album’s less-inspired rhythm tracks, it’s kind of teeth-grating. But when she follows it up with the slinky sass of “Cloak and Dagger,” all is forgiven. I somehow doubt I’ll still be listening to this one a year from now, but even a few hours’ worth of pleasure isn’t to be taken for granted these days.

Other Notable 1/31 Releases (busy week for me; I know I missed a few)

Gretchen Peters – Hello Cruel World Smart and stark (“life is still a beautiful disaster”); would that its intelligence were supported by fewer country music clichés.

Novalima – Karimba I had no idea what “hip-hop flavored Afro-Peruvian jazz-pop” was going to sound like, and I’m not entirely sure how to describe it, but I can’t stop listening to it.

Ruthie Foster – Let It Burn The range of songs that she can bend to her gospel-choir sound is impressive (“Ring of Fire,” “Long Time Gone”), and if the arrangements occasionally get a bit fussy (“Set Fire To The Rain”), the sheer power of her voice puts every note across.

Candy Dulfer – Crazy Her last album was called Funked Up!, and that was a lie, too. There’s shit bouncing all over the place on this thing, up-to-the-minute beats and auto-tune. But she’s only crazy like the proverbial fox, and kicking off an album of danceable smoove-jazz with a track called “Stop All The Noise” is funny in all the wrong ways.

Darrell Scott – Long Ride Home Plant didn’t snag this guy for the Band of Joy for nothing: “Hopkinsville” is shot through with his bleak optimism, and “You’re Everything I Wanted to Be” is this generation’s “I Wish I Was Your Mother.” And if “Candle For A Cowboy” is just a bit much, “You’ll Be With Me All The Way” hits the less-is-more simplicity just right.

Ringo Starr – Ringo 2012 Let’s be honest… I really don’t care, and neither do you. It’s nice that he’s still alive, though.

Mike Doughty – The Question Jar Show There’s a fair amount of “You hadda be there…” involved in listening to this requests-driven live set, but for every obvious “Busting Up A Starbucks,” there’s a “Shunned & Falsified” or “Navigating by the Stars at Night” to connect in ways you hadn’t expected. And the stage banter will get tiresome after a while, but on first listen it’s pretty funny (“Stop us if we’ve already played this one”).

Alcest – Les Voyages de L’ame Says here that “… something that is common to all of the songs is the predominant feeling of euphoria and bliss, always subtly overshadowed by melancholia and yearning.” No, I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, either, and after listening to the album, I’m no closer to knowing. I’d blame the fact that they’re mostly singing in French, but that didn’t slow Plastic Bertrand any. I will say, though, that “Beings of Light” is among the better Moody Blues tributes I’ve heard lately.

Various Artists – Golden Gate Groove: The Sound Of Philadelphia in San Francisco 1963 One I’m dying to hear: live recording of a vintage concert featuring The O’Jays, Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes, The Three Degrees, Billy Paul, and MFSB.

NOTE:

Video isn’t my beat (among other things, I don’t usually get to watch them in advance), but the Blu-ray or DVD of Richard Thompson-Live at Celtic Connection should be a don’t miss. With a setlist drawn from the Dream Attic tour (where he played his entire new album as an opening set, followed by an assortment from his insanely deep catalog), this promises to hit the wide range of Thompson’s abilities as a songwriter (the trenchant “Money Shuffle,” the gleefully insane “Tear Stained Letter,” the haunting “Al Bowlly’s In Heaven”) and provide further demonstration that he’s either the greatest electric guitarist to ever play acoustic, or vice-versa (“Can’t Win,” included here, is typically a showcase for some jaw-dropping solos). Worth noting, too, is the amazing band, with multi-instrumentalist Pete Zorn (who will switch from sax to guitar and back again on the same song without skipping a beat), and Michael Jerome, who might be the most vesatile drummer in pop music today.

FINAL FANTASY XIII-2 (360, PS3)

It’s nice to finally have a game come out. Too bad FFXIII took the goodwill out of the mainline Final Fantasy series for a lot of gamers. Unfairly so, because XIII was nowhere near the atrocity many made it to be. It was a linear adventure (until they just dropped you into Gran Pulse like an afterthought) with a forgettable story filled with obnoxious characters. Which can easily describe Final Fantasy VII. And unlike FFVII, XIII had an interesting, engaging battle system.

For me, the Final Fantasy games have always been about the mechanics, while Dragon Quest has always been about the story. The Final Fantasy series just doesn’t have a consistent visionary like Dragon Quest’s Yuji Horii. But it has does have constantly-evolving set of mechanics that drive me to play a game for far longer than a well-written narrative can last. The newest evolution of ATB makes on-the-fly tactical decisions part of every battle with a buff/weakness system similar to Persona and some AI management from Final Fantasy XII. The system was more than enough to carry me through XIII‘s dragging narrative. By the end of the game, XII was mostly me watching a dot run in a straight line until I actually fought something. It was fun and then it was over and I went back to games with substance. After I spent years of my life playing Final Fantasy XII, XIII felt a little underwhelming – but I didn’t finish disappointed.

Now we have Final Fantasy XII-2. Or Square-Enix Has a Fuckton of Assets to Reuse and Needs Money Fast. I don’t have a problem with the obvious cash-in – in fact, I’m pretty pumped to give them my money. They listened to complaints and focused on an open narrative with small improvements to the battle system. To top things off – and secure my hard earned American dollar – Square has added a monster collection aspect to the game. If a game lets me collect and name monsters, I will do it until I run out of phallic euphoniums. They say they also fixed the story, but who knows? As long as it doesn’t have any annoying Australian children it’s gonna’ be a major step up.

SOUL CALIBUR 5 (PS3, 360)

3D fighting games hate me. Seriously. I press all the buttons and I still don’t win. Can’t figure it out. So here’s one of those. It has scantily-clad ladies getting scantily-er clad as the fight goes on. My friends dig it. I think a lot of my friends have awful taste.

NEVERDEAD (PS3, 360)

Somehow, this isn’t a Japanese game. I think Konami fired all their Japanese staff that wasn’t Kojima or something. NeverDead is actually from the guys behind the Aliens VS Predator franchise.  Whatever the horrible business decision was that led to this, you play a guy who can’t die in this generic shooter. It’s like Warioland but really brown and starring a five-year-old’s doodle of Marcus Fenix.

So now it ends – for this week, anyway. Thanks for stopping by.

A couple years ago, before a biblical epic trend started to pick up and he finally got his Noah film funded, Darren Aronofsky was shopping an exceptionally intriguing novel adaptation, Serena, that was being pitched as “Aronofsky’s There Will Be Blood.” At the time, I also remarked that it sounded like it had shades of Antichrist as the Ron Rash story of a late-twenties couple bent on building a timber empire is said to go to very dark places once the wife discovers she can’t bear children and directs her fury towards her husband’s bastard son. Angelina Jolie was set to star and was intimately involved with the sales pitches that never materialized into a production.

Obviously the project went dormant in the many months since, but now it has been resurrected as a directorial project for Susanne Bier (Things We Lost In The Fire, In A Better World) and will star Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence. Bier’s films have never crossed my path, so I’m not sure if she’s an exciting visionary that I should be pleased to hear is behind this concept, but I certainly hope that’s the case, as the pieces of an amazing puzzle are there. Shooting is apparently set to start soon, so I guess all the deals are in place and this film will finally surface.

I’ll be quietly keeping my fingers crossed for something that lives up to the evocative premise.

Publisher Ecco/Harper Collins, October 2008

The year is 1929, and newlyweds George and Serena Pemberton arrive from Boston in the North Carolina mountains to create a timber empire. Although George has already lived in the camp long enough to father an illegitimate child, Serena is new to the mountains—but she soon shows herself the equal of any worker, overseeing crews, hunting rattlesnakes, even saving her husband’s life in the wilderness.

Together, this Lord and Lady Macbeth of the woodlands ruthlessly kill or vanquish all who fall out of favor. Yet when Serena learns that she will never bear a child, she vengefully sets out to kill the son George had without her. Mother and child begin a struggle for their lives, and when Serena suspects George is protecting his illegitimate family, the Pemberton’s intense, passionate marriage starts to unravel as the story moves toward its shocking reckoning.

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The prevailing wisdom has always been that you should never ever ever kill a pet in a movie. You can kill all the people you want. Husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, neighbors, parents, soldiers, nuns. But kill the adorable dog or kitty cat, and you risk losing the audience. Of course, this means that filmmakers know they have a deadly weapon at their disposal to push our buttons. In this CHUD list, we’re going to take a look at cinema’s saddest, funniest, most messed up and most memorable pet deaths. Remember, we didn’t make these movies. We just work here.

8: Maxed Out.

Film: Man’s Best Friend (1993)
Director: John Lafia

The Pet: EMAX 3000 (aka, Max), a homicidal, savage, yet lovably antiheroic genetically-modified Tibetan mastiff.
The Owner: Initially, nefarious renegade zoologist Dr. Jarret (Lance Henriksen) and his unethical house of horrors, until he’s rescued by unwavering TV newswoman Lori Tanner (Ally Sheedy).

The Context: Over at EMAX Research, evil Dr. Jarret—who isn’t actually a doctor because his license was revoked for his trusted brand of vivisection and genetic rape—runs a sideshow of lovable animals of all kinds—rabbits, cats, monkeys, orangutans, even a fucking panther is imprisoned by this place—so that he can achieve the closest possible thing to Manimal without actually endangering a human being. The closest thing he has to actually being Simon MacCorkindale is EMAX 3000, or “Max,” who can camouflage himself like a chameleon, hunt his prey with the agility and speed of a cheetah, and has superlative intelligence only matched by primates.

Geraldo-esque reporter Lori Tanner is EXTREMELY DETERMINED to get to the bottom of these atrocities, so she breaks in and gets what she can before Dr. Jarret chases them out. Max eventually catches up to Lori and retrieves her purse from mainstay henchman actor Thomas Rosales Jr. and welcomes himself into her life with a bizarre mixture of family-comedy hijinks and morally ambiguous acts of deviancy. However, there’s some grave issues surrounding her new pet aside from the normal pitfalls of having a big, goofy dog: a pair of detectives are trying to stop him, as are an endless line of would-be abusers (including Jarret) and the fact that he plays horribly with other animals (see below) and even rapes the neighbors’ Rough Collie!

Off To the Big Pet Store in the Sky: After a blisteringly high body count that claims, among others, Lori’s asshole boyfriend, a hit man disguised as a mailman, both of the cops on his tail, and William Sanderson as a psycho junkyard owner, Lori realizes that Max is naturally bonded with her, and it leads to a tense (used quite loosely) standoff with Jarret. Trying to defend him sensibly from Jarret is too rational for the aggressive Max, so he makes a run for a shotgun-toting Jarret and catapults him through a window and onto a cage, taking a Pyrrhic shotgun blast in the process.

Emotional Effect:

I’m not sure how the filmmakers intended the audience’s reaction the death to be—cathartic, sad, triumphant—but given the tongue-in-cheek nature of the subject matter, it’s hilarious. Obviously, it’s an emotional moment to see Max get punted by a load of buckshot as he hovers near Lori, away from Jarret’s forced euthanasia plans, but the fact that Max is able to sacrifice himself for the sake of Henriksen receiving a death straight out of one of the Addams Family movies, when he gets inadvertently electrocuted seconds after shooting Max by Lori’s new Jack Russell terrier puppy, uproariously negates the ordeal.

Explain This to the Humane Society: Explain this to the Humane Society? How about explaining everything in that laboratory to them? No matter what anyone who was involved with this tries to say, the legal repercussions of this are enough to vivisect anyone with the balls to do this.

Bonus: It’s not to say that Max was a victim of circumstance, that he is acquitted of being friendly to other animals. Not only is there dog-on-dog rape, but Lori’s pet bird becomes a snack for Max, and most notably, he disposes of a hated old lady’s cat by chasing it up a tree and swallowing the kitty whole. Folks, you have not lived until you see a prosthetic dog unhinge its jaw and inhale a cat like the air it breathes.

What Cujo?

– Mike Flynn

Double Bonus: And speaking of good dogs going bad and making snacks out of defenseless little kitties. I couldn’t help but want to mention one of the (if not THE) only redeeming scenes of one Pet Sematary 2.  Just a quick initiation – when Drew’s dog Zowie gets a little too friendly with his stepdad’s bunnies, stepdad kills Zowie and then Drew and Edward Furlong bury it in the titular ground.  I mean obviously, right?  So, at any rate, once Zowie comes back, he ain’t right and the boys take him to Furlong’s Dad’s vet hospital, where the dog is locked up in the back for observation.  Also in the back?  A brand new litter of adorably teency kitties.

At this point the obvious has become, well, obvious, but the setup and payoff really work.  While Anthony Edwards is on the phone with a state forensics lab arguing over whether or not Zowie is indeed alive, a mom and her young daughter come in to take a look at the kitties and hopefully bring home a tiny furry addition to their family.  BUT TOO LATE!  Zowie already ripped his way out of his cage and through the littles, leaving a furry, mottled, gnarly mess in his wake.  Enter the little girl, her eyes a scant few seconds ago filled with images of a new best friend, now filled with this…

Somebody get that kid a drink – she’s gonna have a bad day.

– Jeremy Butler

7: The Dogs Made a Mess Again.

Film: The Thing (1982)
Director: John Carpenter

The Pet: American Outpost 31’s sled dogs.
The Owner: Clark (Richard Masur), the dog trainer.  Clark was one of the quieter members of the American Antarctic complement at the post.  Not too hard to imagine that he was an outdoorsman, perhaps from Canada or Alaska, who was not only compfortable with the sled dogs, but maybe even more at home with them than people.  Clark’s burly demeanor and lumberjack beard belied his gentle nature toward his dogs.  Despite the malevolent organism that once masqueraded as a dog turning the real dogs into its next meal, Clark didn’t freak out or lose his composure…that is, until MacReady started pumping the poor animals full of buckshot in an attempt to save them from a much more gruesome death.  Maybe Clark harbored some hard feelings toward MacReady; because later on, when MacReady’s humanity was in question, Clark didn’t hesitate to try to kill him.  We’ll never know if Clark cared whether MacReady was human or not, because MacReady was forced to do the same thing to Clark’s cranium that he did with one of Clark’s dogs.

The Context: What you had here was an alien organism that imitated other animals, and imitated them perfectly, using its victims not only as nourishment but the template by which to blend in to its surroundings.  First up (or rather second up…it got to either Norris or Palmer first) were the sled dogs, who were kept in the kennel.  As evidence to how perfectly the Thing could imitate any other organism, the dogs couldn’t even sense that the new pooch wasn’t kosher…that is until it turned into a bloody freak show and began attacking them.

Off To the Big Pet Store in the Sky: Man, was that some kind of horrifying sight: dogs wailing in terror, with one trying to bite its way through a chain link fence to get away.  The was no canine bravado here, those dogs were utterly terrified.  If there was insult to injury, the dogs that survived ended up getting euthanized with extreme prejudice (and an axe) by Blair after he figured out the possible consequences of the Thing’s threat to not only them, but the entire world.

Emotional Effect:

The first of several disturbing scenes and one of the most horrific images in the entire movie is the one partially digested dog being ensnared by the Thing’s tentacles.  It’s probably the one that Blair ended up puling out of the Thing carcass when explaining what it did to them.  Watching humans getting munched on by an alien whose natural form is akin to a huge plate of offal is one thing, but there’s little to be found that’s cool about helpless dogs being preyed upon in such a terrible fashion.

Explain This to the Humane Society: I’d be more concerned if the Humane Society rep is who – and what – he says he is…  Still, better to show him the Thing in action.  Once he gets a good look, he’d be looking for the nearest blowtorch his own damn self.

– David Oliver

Play Dead! Master List

20: A Bird That Would Love Some Head.
19: Sam Gets Bitten, Then Bites It.
18: That Ain’t No Ashtray, Martin Sheen!
17: Nothing Comes Between Besties!
16. Spielberg Killed the Friggin’ Dog!
15: Animal Sacrifices in the Service of Deities.
14: Fatally Craven Human Flesh.
13: A Matter of Self-Defense.
12: The Hills Hate Pets.
11: Dear Dan, Cat Dead. Details Later.
10: Who Wants Hasenpfeffer Tonight?
9: A Bad Case of Indigestion.

Hey there Los Angeles Fright fans! Time for another Friday Night Frights! (like us on Facebook, if you dare!)

If you follow the horror genre, even a little, most likely you’re aware of British director Ben Wheatley’s genre-blurring hype-generating soul-crusher, Kill List. While my cohort Sebastian O’Brien and I’s primary goal with Friday Night Frights is to revisit horror films of the past, we also enjoy bringing interesting and buzzed-about new or upcoming films to your faces. And few genre films are more buzzed-about currently than Kill List, so we figured we would let our audience see what all the hubbub is about for themselves. We’ll be screening the film this Friday (February 3), midnight at The Cinefamily in Los Angeles.

Quoth the FNF power blurb:

The most wickedly vibrant genre film to emerge out of England in years, Kill List is a tour de excessive force that might be as close as a hitman story will ever come to total filmic transcendence.  Leading a cast full of breakout performances, Neil Maskell plays an increasingly bombastic and completely terrifying contract killer who comes out of an early retirement at the promise of a big payoff — handed to him by an organization more ominous than any such group of characters ever seen in the pantheon of gangster movies.  Throughout this constantly morphing cinematic melange, director Ben Wheatley (Down Terrace) injects scalding fresh blood by diving into a dizzyingly unpredictable succession of genres, from nuanced marriage drama to heart attack-inducing horror, all seamlessly stitched together with the visual and sonic flair of a true auteur.  Whether you worship at the altar of art house or the church of the midnight mass, Kill List will make you a convert.

For theater info or ticket purchases go here.

CONTEST

As always I am giving away some free tickets (each with a +1). To enter all you need to do is send an email to wormmiller@gmail.com with KILL LIST in the subject line. Include your full name. I will only be contacting the winners.

Good hunting!

What is this? Every single day of the week (almost), a new Graboid, a single moment grabbed from a random movie, appears on this site for you to guess the name of the film, share with your officemates, or discuss on our message boards. Sometimes the Graboid will be very easy and sometimes it’ll be as obscure as obscure gets. So read the news, read the reviews, and enjoy a screencap each and every day for your guessing pleasure.

Ministry fans have been hearing rumors of this thing since… well since I was in high school, so that’s quite some time ago. We all knew Ministry’s wasn’t really retired, however in the interim Grandpa Jourgensen finally delivered on that ‘country’ album he’d been talking about for the better part of three decades and Buck Satan and the 666 Shooters is here! The album came out last week, I’ve not bought it yet, but the entire thing is streaming up at, ahem, revolver magazine’s website so go take a listen here. I don’t love every song as much as I do this one, but what I like I like quite a bit and what’s on the narrows has grown on me considerably.

DON’T FALL FOR IMPOSTERS

One of the interesting things about tracking this project for the better part of a year and a half is aside from a few interviews Al did where he discussed the group  the only other stuff online I could find for the longest time was the band site buck satan.com (NOT linked on purpose, keep reading) and although the mock Usual Suspects motiff didn’t outright clash with where I thought Jourgenson’s head might be, once I clicked on the music for the first time it was VERY obvious this was not Jourgensen. From what little I’ve been able to discern someone got sick of waiting for the real band and grabbed up the domain, started using the name for their own shitty band (unless this is a joke – as I initially suspected – Al was playing) and then went around accruing facebook and myspace hits based on others believing they were Al & Company.

Boo.

NEW MINISTRY

This of course comes a little over a month after the Occupy movement rallied Al and crew to release the first new Ministry single, 99%, on iTunes. I’m a loooong time Ministry/Revco/Lard fan and although I usually find it’s better for my musical favorites to go out on top, I won’t judge the new Ministry album – titled Relapse – by my initial experiences with this song, which I’ve tried to keep to a minimum so as not to damage the integrity of the album as a whole when it is released on March 23rd. 99% is not a bad song, but on its own it is certainly not breaking any new ground or even continuing to fill out the buzz-saw-and-stress-fractures sound george w inspired on the mostly wonderful trilogy of  albums Houses of the Mole, Rio Grande Blood and brilliant Last Sucker.

Either way, hitting play on a new Ministry album is usually like opening a bottle of a long-time favorite seasonal beer, so here’s to hoping.

I have 491 movies in my Netflix Instant queue. I tend to watch one thing for every five that I add, but now my library is close to being full and I have to make room. So, every Monday I’m going to pick a random movie out of my queue and review the shit out of it. But (like Jesus), I’m also thinking of you and your unwieldy queue and all the movies in it you want to watch but no longer have the time to now that you’ve become so awesome and popular. Let me know what has been gathering digital dust in your Netflix Instant library and I’ll watch that, too. One Monday for you and the next for me and so on. Let’s get to it.

What’s the movie? Noise (2007)

What’s it rated? Unrated for the silence of the city, the isolation in our lives and the screeching behind our eyes.

Did people make it? Written and Directed by Matthew Saville. Acted by Brendan Cowell, Maia Thomas, Fiona MacLeod, Luke Elliot, Nicholas Bell, Katie Wall, Henry Nixon and Simon Laherty.

What’s it like in one sentence? A character study masquerading as a thriller.

Why did you watch it? RelaxingDragon made it sound awfully appealing.

What’s it about in one paragraph? After a brutal mass murder on a subway train, the only survivor of the shooting and a cop with tinnitus get pulled into the aftermath. As their everyday lives start getting infused with madness, paranoia and good old fashioned complacency, they’ll have to wade through the bullshit to figure out whether the danger is real or just a figment of their own ever expanding isolation.

Meet the next Rusell Crowe: Mr. Brendan Cowell. He acts real good.

Play or remove from my queue? Play this one most immediately. Noise is one of the best movies I’ve seen in a while, even though I’m pretty sure I’m not smart enough to have grabbed several of the pieces it was putting down. I’m not going to go into it too heavily this week because I need to watch it again to see if I can find a few of the threads that seemed to disappear by the ending, or to at least discover that the threads actually go nowhere and it was all just a bunch of smoke and mirrors. When the closing credits hit, I felt extremely satisfied with the film and exhilarated to have discovered such a wonderful character piece that wasn’t a dreadful slog to get through, but as I thought about the film more and more, I realized that there were several side plots (and even a main one) that had no resolution at all. The reason I know it’s a great film though is that I don’t care. I just feel lucky to have discovered the movie. Thanks RelaxingDragon! I do think all the pieces are there for me to put together, however, I just need to find them.

The direction is subtle and assured first time feature director Matthew Saville and the central performance by Brendan Cowell is one of the best I’ve seen in a while. In a just universe, Cowell would be the next giant Australian import like Russell Crowe, Sam Worthington or Mel Gibson. He’s fantastic and his performance is filled with these tiny interesting choices you don’t find many actors making. It’s a star-making performance and I can’t wait to see Cowell in many more things. Other characters do seem to get the short shrift a bit, as some seem to come and go in service of the story and don’t end up being as crucial as they initially seem but, again, all of this feels purposeful and extremely important to what the filmmaker is trying to say. Cowell is the only character I felt connected to, but the connection was so strong that the film really didn’t need to hang its weight on anyone else.

Minor Spoilers

Next week I’ll try and figure out a few of the things perplexing me with the film (like what Cowell sees in Lucky Phil’s picture towards the end or why the killer let Lavina live or how the killing of Dean’s fiancee’ ties into the train killings). Even if I can’t figure some of these questions out (and the 4 or 5 other ones I have), I’ll still be grateful to the film for being thought provoking and fascinating enough to make me care.

"There's like 8 or 9 dead bodies in here and it smells no worse than normal. What the fuck?"

Do you have a favorite line? I don’t want to transcribe it because it’s too powerful to spoil for you, but Constable McGahan’s monologue to Dean about what he thinks heaven and hell are like is one of the finest pieces of writing I’ve experienced in months.

Do you have an interesting fun-fact? It’s not very fun, but this film only made $16,157 in the United States. That shit is crazy. Why don’t people like good things? At least The Grey did well this weekend, as I was pretty worried about that one.

What does Netflix say I’d like if I like this? Day Night Day Night (sounds promising), Rule of Three (looks interesting but the user reviews are ass. Not that that means anything, though), New Town Killers (started watching this and I’m not too sure about it), Bubble (haven’t gotten around to this one) and The Square (truly excellent film).

What does Jared say I’d like if I like this? The only other film that is comparable to Noise (that I can think of) is the wonderful Danish film from 2008 called Terribly Happy. They’re both about isolation, both internal and external, and deal with a cop sent to an area they’re not familiar with to do a job they’re not excited about. These films together would make for a wonderfully quirky and insane double feature.

What is Netflix’s best guess for Jared? 3.5

What is Jared’s best guess for Jared? 4.5

Can you link to the movie? I sure can!

Any last thoughts? Just that it’s a really gorgeous film, not just in how it’s shot, but in how it’s acted and written, as well. I can’t wait to go into it more in the spoilers section of next weeks column. I don’t think many people have seen this (judging from the $16,000 it made in the states), so I hope you have a chance to watch it this week so we can dive into it more in the comments.

Did you watch anything else this week? Watched Season 1 of Boardwalk Empire, which was pretty great, but kind of underwhelming at the same time. I wasn’t invested enough in the elections for that to be the main focus of the finale. Plus, any show that wastes the talent of Michael K. Williams is not using it’s brain. I also saw The Grey last night and am still glowing from it. What a fantastic film. If this isn’t on my top ten of 2012 list, then we’ll be in for one hell of a year.

Any spoilerish thoughts about last week’s film, Bunraku?  Nope, it’s already forgotten.

Next Week? Your pick. The Evictors? Case 39? The Escapist? Limitless? Dylan Dog? 11\11\11? There’s too many!

Mitt Romney as Two-Face!

Hollywood loves a good franchise. The movie-going public does too. Horror, action, comedy, sci-fi, western, no genre is safe. And any film, no matter how seemingly stand-alone, conclusive, or inappropriate to sequel, could generate an expansive franchise. They are legion. We are surrounded. But a champion has risen from the rabble to defend us. Me. I have donned my sweats and taken up cinema’s gauntlet. Don’t try this at home. I am a professional.

Let’s be buddies on the Facebookz!

The Franchise: Psycho — following the deadly legacy of the Bates Motel and its primary caretaker, Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins). The series launched with Alfred Hitchcock’s 1960 landmark adaptation of author Robert Bloch’s novel of the same name, and spawned over the next 38 years three sequels, a failed TV series that was converted into a failed TV movie, and the most infamous remake in recent cinema history. We shall be checking in over night on all six Psycho installments.

previous installments
Psycho
Psycho II
Psycho III
Bates Motel

The Installment: Psycho IV: The Beginning (1990)

The Story:

Last we left Norman Bates in his proper timeline, he had once again been apprehended for dressing up as his mother and murdering customers and nosy-nosertons at the Bates Motel. Everyone seemed very confident that this was the last straw for Norman. Homicidal maniacs don’t get third chances. Or do they? Answer: yes they totally do. Norman is now out of the hospital once more, and what do you know, he’s in love and living with a woman! Awww. Is Norman keeping his body-filled past a secret from his love? Nope, not only does she know, she works at the hospital where Norman was sent after Psycho III. That’s a bit weird, but it’s not like Norman is in a position to judge. Unfortunately, all is not well in Norman’s happy world, as we learn when Norman calls into “The Fran Ambrose Show,” a talk radio program hosted by Ms. Ambrose (C. C. H. Pounder), that just so happens to be doing a show on matricide featuring Dr. Richmond (now played by Warren Frost) the very same doctor who bored the hell out of us during Psycho‘s epilogue. During the course of the conversation, after Norman admits that he plans to kill again, Ambrose keeps Norman on the phone by getting him to divulge stories about his past, which we see in flashbacks involving Young Norman (E.T.‘s Henry Thomas) and an alive Norma Bates (Olivia Hussey). Eventually we discover that Norman plans to kill his new ladyfriend because she got pregnant and doesn’t want to abort the baby. And Norman does not wish to spread his deranged genes to a new generation.

What Works:

Say what you will about III becoming a common slasher film, but II left the door wide open. We would always wonder what happened after Norman killed Emma Spool. Then we found out and Norman got caught again. He was still alive, yes, but he was never going to get released again. And why would he escape? Norman didn’t like killing people. He’s no Michael Myers. That’s what makes the character compelling, but it is also what makes each new sequel far from a no-brainer (conceptually, that is). So jumping back in time for a prequel is a canny move to milk more out of the franchise without having to fuck with things too ridiculously. Much has been made about the events of Norman’s childhood, yet few exact details have been given. We know there were other victims before Marion Crane, but that’s where our info ends. So Psycho IV‘s blast to the past is enjoyable in a pleasant fan-pandering kind of way (only diehard fans will have stuck with the franchise this long anyway; the normals all gave up after II). Even in 1960 the Bates Motel was looking shabby. It is fun to see everything looking spankin’ new, brightly painted and nary a rotting board in sight, back when the motel was a thriving business.

In the present, Norman explains to Fran Ambrose that his impression of his Mother always sounded like a crotchety old crone because he imagined that she continued aging after he killed her. That makes sense, until we do the math on how old she must have been when Norman originally killed her; math that makes the casting of late-thirty-something and attractive Olivia Hussey rather preposterous. But having Olivia Hussey in a movie is always a great idea. And having Olivia Hussey get topless in a movie is one of the best ideas ever in the history of ideas — as anyone who saw her Romeo & Juliet in English class knows. So, consider this a pass Psycho IV. You only get one.

The Norma Bates story thread is solid. Her relationship with young Norman is what matters most in the film, and these scenes work quite well. Henry Thomas lacks the quirkiness to properly convey the sense that he’s unhinged somewhere deep inside, but he does a nice job in the pre-crazy flashbacks where Norma is slowly crippling his mind. Adding an Oedipal element to Norman’s backstory feels right, and the most effective flashbacks involve Norma and Norman’s Spanking the Monkey-esque relationship of uncool sexual tension and mom-induced boners (speaking of Spanking the Monkey: Jeremy Davies, now that’s who Gus Van Sant should’ve called for the remake). This is the kind of prequel addition that is well calculated. It is new information, yet it feels obvious.

The score isn’t exactly noteworthy here, but I do respect the fact that Universal continued to farm the music out to good (if young) composers. Graeme Revell (The Crow, Basketball Diaries) is no Hermann, Goldsmith or Burwell, but he’s hardly just some hack. His version of the famous Psycho theme has devolved to sound exactly like Richard Band’s theme for Re-Animator, but considering that Band shamelessly ripped off Hermann’s piece, I don’t think that can be held against Revell.

I will also give props to the ending of the film, in which Norman burns down the Bates house. The house has always been the second most important character in the franchise, so there was a subconscious lack of closure every time a film ended with it left unfazed. It was this lack of closure that gave way to the stupid Bates Motel idea. The franchise has overstayed its welcome, so destroying the iconic manor – at the hands of Norman, no less – is a fitting way to try and make a final statement.

His acting is atrocious here, but I’m a sucker for John Landis acting cameos. He plays Fran Ambrose’s producer, Mike Calvecchio. That is all.

What Doesn’t Work:

Prequels are awkward. On the one hand, as I said, we’ve heard so much about Norman’s backstory that it feels somewhat natural to finally explore it. Yet we also made it this far without actually needing to see any of this stuff. That is paradox of prequels — the present story was in many ways informed by not seeing this stuff, by only giving the audience bits and pieces and forcing us to glean together a mythology based on random exposition. We moved on, so there is always the danger of giving us too much background information and fucking up a good thing (something Hellraiser IV danced with). Psycho IV was smart enough to take a Godfather II approach, having the prequel elements coexist with sequel elements, and thus never quite stepping across the line — although this was presumably done to work Anthony Perkins into the film, not out of artistic concern. The flashbacks may be the best aspect of the film, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are nonetheless unnecessary to the franchise. This is the first proper installment in the Psycho series that feels groundless.

Universal’s selection of Mick Garris as director shows where their head was at with the franchise — they didn’t really care or at least didn’t get it anymore. Your personal feelings on Garris’ abilities aside, in 1990 he was hot off a box office success with Critters 2 (having yet to fall down the Stephen King rabbit-hole that has consumed his career for the past twenty years). He was a semi-hot horror director. He makes perfect sense if we’re treating Psycho IV as some Part 4 in some random horror franchise. But this franchise had up until now been a bit more than that. Richard Franklin was a Hitchcock student. I’m sure Garris likes, even reveres Hitchcock, but he is hardly an acolyte. Anthony Perkins is no great director, but he was aping Hitchcock and Franklin and III ended up feeling like an evolution of II because of this. The franchise needed someone looking to do thrillers, not horror. If a horror auteur like Romero, Craven, Henenlotter, even Raimi, had been handed the reins, someone who would have put their distinctive stamp on the project, that would be a different story. But Garris is just a workman director — a horror fanboy living the ultimate dream. There is nothing wrong with that, but his approach feels disconnected from the tonal evolution of the franchise. He is only as good as the material, and like Young Norman, the material needed healthier love…

Getting original Psycho screenwriter Joseph Stefano back is far more of a clever marketing gimmick than a clever creative move. I honestly don’t mean any offense to Stefano, but other than writing for The Outer Limits, his career between 1960 and 1990 does not exactly make one wonder why it took Universal this long to get him back into the fold. (Getting Robert Bloch involved with Psycho IV would have been the truly savvy move.) Stefano’s script does not feel like a return to Psycho. Nor does it feel like a continued extension of what came before it. The timbre of this Norman Bates is different, adrift as its own thing. And the lack of deserved explanation as to how the fuck Norman got released again so soon after III gives the suspicious feeling that we’re in fact skipping over II and III entirely — that Stefano (who knows, maybe angry about Universal taking so long to invite him back) has sneakily made his own alternate universe Psycho II. The number of victims Norman has claimed is fuzzy. There is no mention of Emma Spool, in the present or the flashbacks. Dr. Richmond has returned. In fact, Psycho IV actually works a lot better if we view it as a direct follow up to Psycho. If it were a better film than II and III, I might be inclined to happily accept it as the true heir. But it isn’t. So too bad Stefano. You left us with a precariously ambiguous installment.

The Anthony Perkins sections of Psycho IV are a little embarrassing. Perkins clearly doesn’t care as much as he used to. If Universal had allowed him to direct again, I bet he would have. But as is, this is obviously just a payday for him now. The film also premiered on Showtime, and the bulk of the meager budget visibly went into the flashbacks. For 80% of his scenes Perkins never leaves his kitchen, simply talking on the phone with the characters in the equally claustrophobic radio booth set. These films have always been small productions with a fixed location, but this is the first film in the franchise to feel small. And the radio call-in gimmick doesn’t feel in place with the franchise. It is too gimmicky. It is an unwanted break from the general format of the series, which has always spanned many days. The real-time urgency and closed-space we get in Norman’s story now gives off the tone of an anthology TV episode. Plus, I just don’t buy that Norman Bates would waste his time calling into Ambrose’s show. He neither relishes his crimes nor enjoys talking about them.

Psycho III may have been the installment that most resembled a cliche slasher flick, but Psycho IV is the first installment where I’d place “quality nudity” as one of its biggest selling points. That says something. The film comes close to achieving what Phantasm IV did — making up for sagging quality with deep-track-style fan-pandering. It was moving in an interesting direction conceptually, but ultimately comes off as completely indifferent. During the climax, when Norman is burning down the house, he is confronted by specters of his victims. His victims in Psycho IV. Obviously it would be tricky/expensive to show us Marion Crane, Arbogast, Spool, or his victims from III. But omitting them gives the distinct feeling that IV is entirely stand-alone, skipping past not only II and III, but in a sense, the original film too.

Body Count: 4

Best Kill: The pivotal and lengthy scene in which Young Norman poisons Norma and her new lover, Chet (Thomas Schuster), is fairly disturbing and tense.

Best Norman Line That Really Should Have Tipped Someone Off: To Fran Ambrose over the phone. “Oh, I’ve killed before, and now I’m gonna have to kill again.” Oh wait, I guess that does tip them off.

Best Mother Line: After locking Norman in the closet, dressed as a girl. “You’re gonna stay locked in there until you learn not to say “no” to your mother when she tells you you’re a girl!”

Stupidest Line: After Young Norman uses the word ‘inordinately’ in a sentence.
Holly: Inordinately. I love sexy words.

Does the Twist Ending Hold Water: No twist.

Should There Be a Sequel: The end of Psycho III was very conclusive. This film ignored that. Now we have another conclusive ending. Yes, Norman is free, so technically we could just ignore logic once more, but we’re already in a law of diminishing returns spiral here. Continuing down this path can only yield bullshit. The only remotely inventive approach would be jumping forward in time to see Norman dealing with Norman Jr going crazy. But I don’t think anyone cares enough to warrant that. Let’s quit while we’re only slightly behind guys.

Up Next: Psycho 1998

DISCUSS THE FRANCHISE ON THE BOARDS

previous franchises battled
Critters
Death Wish
Hellraiser
Home Alone
Leprechaun
The Muppets
Phantasm
Planet of the Apes
Police Academy
Rambo
Tremors

Lest anyone think that we’re in the clear in 2012 and all the movie posters everywhere would be excellent from now on, this column continues to exist to bring your hopes down to earth, while also bringing you back up with the strength of laughter.  Forgot how this works?  Here’s how we did it at the end of 2011. 

Now take my hand and let’s descend together into the dark underworld of disastrous film art…

Wow.  Okay.  Somehow that got through, huh?  So:  In case you want to avoid that awkward conversation with your parents, what that tagline means is that these two guys are huge nerds and so at no point during this motion picture will you see them receive blow jobs.  Unless they decide to give EACH OTHER blow jobs, but that would be crazy and unnatural even though no doubt this movie could have many hilarious jokes to that effect.

28 Hotel Rooms Later… The inevitable story of sex zombies. 

This poster indicates that this movie actually exists, which I am continuing to have a difficult time believing.  Help me out if you’ve read the book:  Do they address the vampire slavery issue?

“Still, he makes movies… with terrible titles… about which literally no one gives a shit…”

All three lead actors’ names on this poster are completely mixed up, and all three of these people are EXTREMELY unhappy about it.

High Concept:  What if they remade Buried almost immediately, with an actor you like about a tenth as much as you like Ryan Reynolds?  It can’t lose!

Cate Blanchett looks unwell.

An awesome premise would be that it’s the end of the world, after the nuclear apocalypse, it’s Las Vegas, and all the Elvis impersonators are dead except for one (played by George Wendt, as seems to be the case on this poster).  Like Denzel bearing the holy bible in The Book Of Eli, this man is the last to bear the holy word of Elvis Presley, i.e. the lyrics to “Suspicious Minds.”  And then he goes to Frogtown. 

Be honest, wouldn’t you rather watch my movie?

Listen, I just have a dirty mind.

“Justice has a price.  And he is seeking it.  The price, not the justice.  He’s seeking the price of justice.  You know, to ask around before he commits to buying.  He’s headed to the flea market… of justice!” 

Maybe it’s just me, but the indecision of this movie and its many titles is vaguely humorous.  It started out as The Hungry Rabbit Jumps.  Then it was Justice.  Now it’s become Seeking Justice.  That’s so much less definitive. It’s kind of a pussy move for an action movie to add that gerund.  It’s like the Finding Forrester of badass revenge flicks.

Finally, a poster for this movie that’s as unappealing to me as the movie itself is.  Too many of the posters for The Iron Lady look like too much fun.  Like this:

I bet I know what she’s thinking.  How randy!

The monster on the right looks like a butt.  So my ticket’s already bought and paid for.

I also love the tagline, “Dos Mundos, Un Heroe.”  I just know they did that to appeal to the same audience who for so many years loved the wildly popular series of telenovelas, “Dos Mujeres, Un Camino.”

Attn: Marketing Dept.

Loved the John Carter poster for the Latin market!  But can we see some mock-ups to send further east?

Thanks in advance,

xoxoxo

P.S.  Same request for Man On A Ledge. 

I don’t mean to say that all it takes to make a Korean poster for an American film is to load it up with extra writing and throw a random hologram on a skyscraper, but well, I guess maybe subconsciously I do mean to say it.

This is depressing for much deeper reasons than what is certainly one of the most abysmal movie titles we’ll see in all of 2012.  This is actually a dispiriting Hollywood trend captured in a single image:  At 20-something, you’re America’s sweetheart, everybody loving your smile and your laugh.  At 30-something, you do your prestige run so people give you credit for being a serious actress.  At 40-something, you’re stuck playing the wicked witch.   What’s truly creepy is how it can accelerate:  You don’t even have to crack forty anymore to play the evil queen to the lovely young ingenue.

Marilyn Monroe: From American icon to J-pop sensation — all it takes is just a re-tinted color scheme.

Public Service Announcement:  Stay away, probably.

It’s easy to pull the hot Nicole Kidman older lady who lives down the street: All you need is a pink Cadillac with a painting of John Cusack on the side.

Price check?  That’ll be $3.99 in the Wal-Mart bargain bin.

(No, I don’t sleep well. Why do you ask?)

The more I learn about this movie, the more I’m leaning towards despising it.  Does that make me “old”?

Congratulations to Todd Phillips, though — after this poster he’s sure to make PETA’s must-watch list.

Personally, I’d play down the whole Cuba Gooding Jr. aspect.  Last time he was in a World War 2 movie, it was Pearl Harbor.  

Jason Statham makes a severely lousy Julianne Moore.

The Sith announce their most perverted threat to date.

There’s a shit-ton going on in that lava lamp.

I don’t know what this movie is about yet, but I have to believe there’s another way to sell it.

Like this, for example:  This poster is a great way to get me intrigued about a movie which I probably don’t want to see.

I saw the trailer for this movie the other day.  It’s about all these old British people who take a trip to India and start hooking up with each other.  Basically, it’s the imperialist version of Cocoon.  The kid from Slumdog Millionaire plays the Steve Guttenberg role.  Either way, you’re gonna get jokes about limp boners.  Choose the form of the destructor.  Choose, and perish.

Looks like they shot this poster with the same 45-degree-angle camera they shot half of Thor with. 

So psyched they finally made a new Matrix movie.

When certain movies are received less than warmly in the United States, they often change their titles and escape to another country.  In some countries, We Bought A Zoo goes by the name A Place To Dream.  If you happen to encounter it, do not be a hero.  Back away and alert the local authorities at the soonest opportunity.

Am I seeing double?  Uh, I mean — am I seeing quadruple?

______________________________________________________

And now, as a grand finale of atrociousness, let’s meet the five-headed dark prince of this horrific netherworld, and by that I mean the new posters for some movie I hope to never be dragged to see (probably will be) called What To Expect When You’re Expecting.  [SHUDDER.]

Good luck with that, Jenny.  There’s at least a 50% chance your baby will look like THIS!

DaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Apologies for this column are filedonce a month, on the morning after it’s posted.

@jonnyabomb

Early last year I called The FP a “film that happens to you in the best way possible, and one you aren’t going to forget” and the folks over at Drafthouse Film agreed enough with me and the other FP fans to pick it up for distribution. Well now it’s time for that wicked partnership to bear its fruit as we get our first official one-sheet for the film (which takes over duties from a stellar Tyler Stout screenprint used since SXSW), and a list of cites in which the film will have a theatrical release beginning March 16th, which you can check out below.

A ferocious nod to big-budget studio action fare and underdog sports dramas of the 1980s, THE FP is a high-concept comedy set in a dystopian near future where a relentless turf war rages. Two rival gangs feud for control of rural wasteland Frazier Park in the deadly arena of competitive dance video game “Beat-Beat Revelation.”

I have to assume another trailer is on its way soon too. I wonder what they’ll come up with- this is a weird one to sell to the mainstream crowd (though I can tell just by the choice of the specific Atlanta theater that they’re being strategic with this release and going after younger markets).

Here’s the current trailer

This is largely the same crew behind the smaller film VS, which I was the first to review a few months back.

Cities

New York City, NY – The Village East Cinema

Los Angeles, CA – The Cinefamily

Orange County, CA – AMC Orange

Austin, TX – Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar, Alamo Drafthouse Village

San Francisco, CA – The Roxie Theater

Seattle, WA – The SIFF Theater

Portland, OR – The Hollywood Theatre

Chicago, IL – The Music Box

Cambridge, MA – The Brattle Theatre

Houston, TX – Alamo Drafthouse Cinema (locations TBA)

San Antonio, TX – Alamo Drafthouse Cinema (locations TBA)

Denver, CO – The Denver Film Center

Washington DC – AMC Hoffman

Dallas, TX – AMC Arlington

Dallas, TX – AMC Mesquite

Phoenix, AZ – AMC Arizona Center

Phoenix, AZ – AMC Westgate

Tampa, FL – AMC Veterans

Miami, FL – AMC Aventura

Atlanta, GA – AMC South Lake

Baltimore, MD – AMC Owings

Philadelphia, PA – AMC Cherry Hill

Pittsburg, PA – AMC Waterfront

Detroit, MI – AMC Forum

San Diego, CA – AMC Mission Valley

St. Louis, MO – AMC West Olive

Minneapolis, MN – Lagoon Cinema (opens 3/23)

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