REVIEWER: Daniel Schaub
If you have fond memories of the first “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” film, like I do, then you'll remember that shortly before the audience is first introduced to Casey Jones, Raphael ditches meditation in favor of going to see a movie. That film was “Critters” and, in angry New Yorker style, he exclaims “Ugh, where do they come up with this stuff?” Keep in mind that “TMNT” is rated PG so his opinion couldn't be expressed in “true” angry New Yorker style, but you get the point.
Where “do” they come up with this stuff? “Critters” is a strange hodge-podge conglomeration of dozens of films made before it: gleaning sci-fi elements from “Star Wars”, the sharp kid who no one pays attention to from “E.T.” and “Gremlins”, unstoppable forces from a distant time/place like “The Terminator” who destroy everything in their path, trying to emulate the suspense of “Nightmare on Elm Street”... Frankly the list could go on and on, but that would be boring. Let's move on shall we?
The film opens deep in space, at an intergalactic prison, which resembles a well-lit set from the 1970's “Doctor Who”. If only the prison warden had been rocking the seven foot scarf.... The mysterious creatures known as Crites are being transported to a new prison when they mastermind their escape. Keep in mind the word mastermind as it will come up again later. The prison warden hires two bounty hunters to track the Crites down and destroy them. These bounty hunters are blessed with the ability to shape-shift but before they do we are blessed with the sight of their natural features, resembling an illuminated lava lamp and you can't distinguish one from the other. How do they pick up women on their planet if there is no identify marks? Anyway...
We then go to Earth; Kansas actually because everyone knows that shit like this only happens in the middle of nowhere, which makes me glad that when the alien invasion does come that I don't live in Iowa anymore. So, we meet the Brown family, Pappa Jay, Momma Helen, Floozie Sister April, and royal pain in the ass son Brad. Honestly, if you wanted the kid to stop being a God-damn nuisance you should just hit him. (Also Brad is played by Scott Grimes has gone on to act “Band of Brothers”, “ER”, and the proof that Russell Crowe knows nothing about hockey “Mystery, Alaska”. To name a few.)
All things seem quiet on the Western front until the Crites arrive and start eating. The first moment we see the Crites is a complete shocker seeing as how the Crites are actually balls of fluff and teeth that appears to be something a mountain lion might cough up after grooming itself. The Crites, and make-up effects, are courtesy of the notorious Chiodos brothers (No, not the band Chiodos) who are responsible for the truly trashy but lovable “Killer Klowns From Outer Space”. The only thing articulated on the Crites are the mouths which barely open, like Kermit the Frog stitched his mouth closed so he wouldn't have to talk to that bitch Miss Piggy anymore. The Crites eyes stare blankly into space, like me after a few cocktails. And the Crites are dumb, really dumb. They have the ability to shoot paralyzing darts out of their backs but they seem much more content to roll away from danger at high speeds, like an ugly version of Sonic the Hedgehog. Also they stand right in the way of shotgun fire all the time, even though the bounty hunters' gun resembles an Earth firearm. Can't they connect the dots?
So, the bounty hunters come to Earth and start tearing apart the town in search of the Crites. If “Midnight Run” taught us anything, its that the only prerequisites for the job of bounty hunter is the ability to kick ass and trade funny, and sometimes, amoral quips with your co-stars. Certainly, our bounty hunters in “Critters” can kick ass but they must have missed a day in bounty hunter class (which is a shame, considering it should only be two days long according to the prerequisites) because they never have anything interesting to say. Once we've heard them say “We're here for the Crites” and blow some shit up once, why repeat it? They seem more content to destroy the town's two major hangouts, a church and a bowling alley (remember, its the Midwest) rather than doing their fucking job.
Rather than spoil the ending I'll just leave it up to you whether or not you actually want to see the film, but I can assure that it is drenched in goofy happy ending cheese (Why not? It was a staple of the 80's.)
The greatest fault of “Critters” is in the script. Like that month after Christmas when you're trying to find a recipe to use up all the leftovers in one meal, “Critters” is a variety of other movies ground up and put together in a casserole. Borrowing (Stealing) ideas from other movies doesn't have to be such a problem; Quentin Tarantino has built his entire career off of borrowing (stealing) ideas from other movies. (If you've seen “Come Drink With Me” then you've seen “Kill Bill”, but an Asian woman instead of Uma Thurman) The borrowed elements just don't fit together, stealing pieces from a second jig-saw puzzle doesn't mean you'll finish the first one. “Gremlins”, the closest equivalent to this film, knew where and how to juxtapose the humor with the horror, but in this film they don't blend together at all. I was confused as to whether or not I was watching a kid's film or a full-blown horror.
There are some good things in “Critters” though. The Chiodos brothers actually manage a chilling special effect for the shape-shifting bounty hunters. The music is 80's-tastic. Billy Zane appears, WITH HAIR! Stephen Herek is a competent director. (He went on to do “The Mighty Ducks” and “Mr. Holland's Opus”. Richard Dreyfuss, you were robbed.) Watching people get attacked by creatures the size of their head is always hilarious, even if not intentionally.
So in the end, if you can suffer through the abortion of a host of other 80's flicks, then you just might enjoy “Critters”. As for me, I'll be watching “TMNT” for like the 50th time.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Mega Shark Vs. Giant Octopus - Dir. Ace Hannah - 2009
GUEST REVIEWER: Daniel Schaub: He's a bamf and here's his stuff. Last time he was a chef lets see what is the trash he threw out tonight.
Before I begin, I have to admit that I watched three different films to try and find my new trash film. I will probably be reviewing them all at one point, but I decided upon this film because of its spectacular failure to entertain. Production company The Asylum's single purpose on this Earth seems to be taking films that were already made and change around a few letters or words in the title (Transmorphers, Snakes on A Train, etc.) and release an utter piece of trash, but I'll be damned if they aren't entertaining in an awful way. But this film is by far the worst, and not even enjoyable in a fun way. Let's begin:
In the world of movie titling where gerunds, superlatives, and nouns are thrown around so frequently that they must surely suffer from shaken-baby syndrome, some films sneak up on you and some films, in the case of M.S.VS.G.O., flaunt themselves and slap you in the face with their, presumably, enormous testicles, begging to be watched. Perhaps this is why the film caused quite the internet tizzy, or the image of a shark biting a plane in mid-air was so jaw-droppingly ridiculous that it had to be watched. Maybe my script for Super Llama Vs. Ultra-Alpaca will finally be sold. Either way the production company knew this film was carrying stones so massive that it outweighed the cumulative sum of 30,000 Ethiopians.
Rather than go on and on about the directing or writing, both done by Mark Perez under the mind-blowing moniker Ace Hannah, as if he were a pulp fiction hero coming in to save the damsel in distress at the last second , this would be counter productive. No one is watching this film for the director, the writer, or anything that actually makes a movie a good one. Viewers, like myself, watch this film to see a movie title lived out on celluloid.
So, instead of doing the normal review thingy, I will instead share with you the story that leads to ultimate conflict between said shark and octopus. Warning matey, thar' be spoilers ahead.
The story opens with stock footage of the mountains, beautiful and awe inspiring, covered with deliciously amateur titles that could be created in I-Movie. Where's the lightning effect when you need it? We are then magically transported to the “Alaskan” Sea because the director assumes none of viewers ever took geography in elementary. The government is testing an illegal low-frequency sonar array, and by the government I mean a civilian helicopter with a guy in a green jumpsuit and mirrored sunglasses.
At this point we are introduced to our plucky and attractive, not sexy just attractive, hero, Emma MacNeil (Deborah Gibson). Emma has stolen, or borrowed in her words, a multi-million dollar min-sub to watch the whales moving in the area, not even study. Here we are presented with the most ridiculous image of the entire film. That's right, in a film about a massive shark and enormous octopus, there's something worse. I'm no marine biologist but when I see hammer-head sharks and stingrays swimming in the “Alaskan” Sea my mind has to ask, “Don't these animals like warm water? Like South Africa?” I guess they wandered too far North. Or maybe ate an inebriated swimmer and ended up perpetrating SWI (Swimming While under the Influence). Continuing...
As the sonar array is triggered the whales are thrown into a hissy-fit and try to commit suicide by flinging themselves into the ice shelf. If only whales could cover their ears we would be saved a lot of trouble because this mass suicide causes the ice shelf to break and releases our eponymous villains, the shark and the octopus. Our heroine sees these creatures up close, even sees one of them swim away, but dismisses it as imaginary; you never see new species when you're under the water.
The two creatures instantly begin wreaking havoc upon the seas, destroying oil rigs and... planes?
Our heroine escapes the swarm of lemming-like whales and returns to California where she is called in to inspect the corpse of a washed up whale. Even though she inspects the whale, her opinion, like that of any expert, is ignored by her superiors because experts, as the movies have taught us, are always ignored. She sneaks onto the beach to retrieve a piece of polymer painted and cut to look like a fracture of a tooth and shows it to her old mentor, Lamar Sanders (Sean Lawlor). (Who is actually a decent actor, spouting witty racist Irish stereotypes left and right)
What follows can only be described as a CSI-esque lab sequence without the steroids. Flashes of people staring into test tubes filled with neon colored liquid, flashes of people staring into computer screens, ominous music, and more flashes. In the end, as I guessed, it was in fact a tooth to a megalodon. Now, if you wander over to Wikipedia, like I did, the megalodon has been figured to be somewhere between 42 feet and 52 feet. The average nuclear submarine is over 100 meters long, but our creature dwarfs it. If you're going to pretend to be scientific, read a book or, at least, a damn internet article.
Now, upon finding proof of a megalodon living and breathing, what would your first thought be? Call the newspapers? Call the government? Rejoice because you can finally take care of that pesky whale problem (because whales are basically roaches of the sea)? No, our heroes do not a damn thing, but stare at the tooth some more.
They are joined by a Japanese marine biologist, Seiji, or Seichi (Vic Chou) depending on who says his name. When three brilliants biology minded minds are brought together, surely progress is not too far to follow. No, they stare at the tooth some more.
The government, deciding that a massive shark could be a problem, try to kill the megalodon but, in typical science-fiction fashion, our weapons are no match for the creatures. We can punch holes in six inch thick steel boat plating, destroy entire countries, and kill millions with the flip of switch but we can't pierce shark skin. God forbid that we ever attacked by a giant turtle because we would be fucked. When our government fails at killing this creature, our heroes are brought in to help destroy or capture the shark and the octopus.
Now, this would be called the point of no return, the end of Act One. Typically, now we move into Act Two, the longest section of any film; any film that is except this one. Act Two turns out to be a flurry of events in about ten minutes, because, hell, who has time for character development? Not Ace Hannah, he's got a damsel in distress to save from Nazis! The following ten minutes can only really be described in fragmented sentences, so...
Ten minutes in ten words: attract creatures, how, well..., sex (between Seiji and Emma for the record, not Seiji and Lamar which would have been hilarious), pheromones, try, fail, destroyed bridge.
Now if that seems quick for ten minutes, or so, it is, but as our heroes once again stare into test tubes trying to figure out how to attract the creatures you want to yell “Pheromones? Pheromones! Jesus, stop having sex! People are dying! How the hell did any of you get your degrees?!” Never has ten-minutes of staring into test tubes been more boring, except for the prior ten minutes where they stared at a different set of test tubes. After bringing the shark in San Francisco Bay, because there aren't any more bays along the California coast. Oh, wait, they actually were at Half Moon Bay earlier. And Point Dume, which is actually a bay? Anyways, in the movies Murphy's Law is always in high-gear, otherwise what would be the point of watching? So, after absolutely everything goes wrong, the shark takes a bite out of the Golden Gate Bridge killing hundreds. But we're not treated to any close-ups of these poor people. In fact, now that I think of it, there weren't any close-ups in the entire film...
Now, we move into Act Three. How are our heroes going to kill a giant octopus and a mega shark? Get them to kill each other of course, because sharks love calamari and octopuses love shark fin soup. Using the same pheromones from before our heroes will bring the two together to fight. And they do so, complete with the sinking of eight submarines and the destruction of an airplane.
It's rumble time, right? The match-up of a shark and octopus seems a little one-sided, as one has eight arms and the other has fins. But it turns out that sharks are slippery. The octopus will wrap eight arms around the shark and the shark will slip out. The shark will bite at the octopus and the octopus will wrap it up again. And the shark will slip out again. This delicate tango thankfully only lasts two minutes, tops. In a movie where you've been waiting to see an octopus and shark fight, something is very wrong if you want the fight to end as soon as it started. All vision of scale and scope is lost. When two massive creatures fight under the water, with nothing else around, it might as well be a sea horse and cucumber. Why doesn't the octopus rip off a piece of reef and shiv his opponent? I don't know, but it would have been awesome.
The fight ends, with both creatures dead, and the movie ends with our heroes disregarding the test tube for a sunset. How pretty... Wait, didn't hundreds of people die and these are the people more of less to blame because they didn't blow the fucking whistle when they had the chance? Nope, I think we would all be more content if we blame the fucking whales.
Oh yeah, Lorenzo Lamas, typically a soap opera actor, was also in this. He shared the typically racist remarks with Lamar, but his were mostly about the Japanese. Fun!
The Asylum makes plenty of trash films but most are a joy to watch, this is not. It is just bad, bad, bad.
Before I begin, I have to admit that I watched three different films to try and find my new trash film. I will probably be reviewing them all at one point, but I decided upon this film because of its spectacular failure to entertain. Production company The Asylum's single purpose on this Earth seems to be taking films that were already made and change around a few letters or words in the title (Transmorphers, Snakes on A Train, etc.) and release an utter piece of trash, but I'll be damned if they aren't entertaining in an awful way. But this film is by far the worst, and not even enjoyable in a fun way. Let's begin:
In the world of movie titling where gerunds, superlatives, and nouns are thrown around so frequently that they must surely suffer from shaken-baby syndrome, some films sneak up on you and some films, in the case of M.S.VS.G.O., flaunt themselves and slap you in the face with their, presumably, enormous testicles, begging to be watched. Perhaps this is why the film caused quite the internet tizzy, or the image of a shark biting a plane in mid-air was so jaw-droppingly ridiculous that it had to be watched. Maybe my script for Super Llama Vs. Ultra-Alpaca will finally be sold. Either way the production company knew this film was carrying stones so massive that it outweighed the cumulative sum of 30,000 Ethiopians.
Rather than go on and on about the directing or writing, both done by Mark Perez under the mind-blowing moniker Ace Hannah, as if he were a pulp fiction hero coming in to save the damsel in distress at the last second , this would be counter productive. No one is watching this film for the director, the writer, or anything that actually makes a movie a good one. Viewers, like myself, watch this film to see a movie title lived out on celluloid.
So, instead of doing the normal review thingy, I will instead share with you the story that leads to ultimate conflict between said shark and octopus. Warning matey, thar' be spoilers ahead.
The story opens with stock footage of the mountains, beautiful and awe inspiring, covered with deliciously amateur titles that could be created in I-Movie. Where's the lightning effect when you need it? We are then magically transported to the “Alaskan” Sea because the director assumes none of viewers ever took geography in elementary. The government is testing an illegal low-frequency sonar array, and by the government I mean a civilian helicopter with a guy in a green jumpsuit and mirrored sunglasses.
At this point we are introduced to our plucky and attractive, not sexy just attractive, hero, Emma MacNeil (Deborah Gibson). Emma has stolen, or borrowed in her words, a multi-million dollar min-sub to watch the whales moving in the area, not even study. Here we are presented with the most ridiculous image of the entire film. That's right, in a film about a massive shark and enormous octopus, there's something worse. I'm no marine biologist but when I see hammer-head sharks and stingrays swimming in the “Alaskan” Sea my mind has to ask, “Don't these animals like warm water? Like South Africa?” I guess they wandered too far North. Or maybe ate an inebriated swimmer and ended up perpetrating SWI (Swimming While under the Influence). Continuing...
As the sonar array is triggered the whales are thrown into a hissy-fit and try to commit suicide by flinging themselves into the ice shelf. If only whales could cover their ears we would be saved a lot of trouble because this mass suicide causes the ice shelf to break and releases our eponymous villains, the shark and the octopus. Our heroine sees these creatures up close, even sees one of them swim away, but dismisses it as imaginary; you never see new species when you're under the water.
The two creatures instantly begin wreaking havoc upon the seas, destroying oil rigs and... planes?
Our heroine escapes the swarm of lemming-like whales and returns to California where she is called in to inspect the corpse of a washed up whale. Even though she inspects the whale, her opinion, like that of any expert, is ignored by her superiors because experts, as the movies have taught us, are always ignored. She sneaks onto the beach to retrieve a piece of polymer painted and cut to look like a fracture of a tooth and shows it to her old mentor, Lamar Sanders (Sean Lawlor). (Who is actually a decent actor, spouting witty racist Irish stereotypes left and right)
What follows can only be described as a CSI-esque lab sequence without the steroids. Flashes of people staring into test tubes filled with neon colored liquid, flashes of people staring into computer screens, ominous music, and more flashes. In the end, as I guessed, it was in fact a tooth to a megalodon. Now, if you wander over to Wikipedia, like I did, the megalodon has been figured to be somewhere between 42 feet and 52 feet. The average nuclear submarine is over 100 meters long, but our creature dwarfs it. If you're going to pretend to be scientific, read a book or, at least, a damn internet article.
Now, upon finding proof of a megalodon living and breathing, what would your first thought be? Call the newspapers? Call the government? Rejoice because you can finally take care of that pesky whale problem (because whales are basically roaches of the sea)? No, our heroes do not a damn thing, but stare at the tooth some more.
They are joined by a Japanese marine biologist, Seiji, or Seichi (Vic Chou) depending on who says his name. When three brilliants biology minded minds are brought together, surely progress is not too far to follow. No, they stare at the tooth some more.
The government, deciding that a massive shark could be a problem, try to kill the megalodon but, in typical science-fiction fashion, our weapons are no match for the creatures. We can punch holes in six inch thick steel boat plating, destroy entire countries, and kill millions with the flip of switch but we can't pierce shark skin. God forbid that we ever attacked by a giant turtle because we would be fucked. When our government fails at killing this creature, our heroes are brought in to help destroy or capture the shark and the octopus.
Now, this would be called the point of no return, the end of Act One. Typically, now we move into Act Two, the longest section of any film; any film that is except this one. Act Two turns out to be a flurry of events in about ten minutes, because, hell, who has time for character development? Not Ace Hannah, he's got a damsel in distress to save from Nazis! The following ten minutes can only really be described in fragmented sentences, so...
Ten minutes in ten words: attract creatures, how, well..., sex (between Seiji and Emma for the record, not Seiji and Lamar which would have been hilarious), pheromones, try, fail, destroyed bridge.
Now if that seems quick for ten minutes, or so, it is, but as our heroes once again stare into test tubes trying to figure out how to attract the creatures you want to yell “Pheromones? Pheromones! Jesus, stop having sex! People are dying! How the hell did any of you get your degrees?!” Never has ten-minutes of staring into test tubes been more boring, except for the prior ten minutes where they stared at a different set of test tubes. After bringing the shark in San Francisco Bay, because there aren't any more bays along the California coast. Oh, wait, they actually were at Half Moon Bay earlier. And Point Dume, which is actually a bay? Anyways, in the movies Murphy's Law is always in high-gear, otherwise what would be the point of watching? So, after absolutely everything goes wrong, the shark takes a bite out of the Golden Gate Bridge killing hundreds. But we're not treated to any close-ups of these poor people. In fact, now that I think of it, there weren't any close-ups in the entire film...
Now, we move into Act Three. How are our heroes going to kill a giant octopus and a mega shark? Get them to kill each other of course, because sharks love calamari and octopuses love shark fin soup. Using the same pheromones from before our heroes will bring the two together to fight. And they do so, complete with the sinking of eight submarines and the destruction of an airplane.
It's rumble time, right? The match-up of a shark and octopus seems a little one-sided, as one has eight arms and the other has fins. But it turns out that sharks are slippery. The octopus will wrap eight arms around the shark and the shark will slip out. The shark will bite at the octopus and the octopus will wrap it up again. And the shark will slip out again. This delicate tango thankfully only lasts two minutes, tops. In a movie where you've been waiting to see an octopus and shark fight, something is very wrong if you want the fight to end as soon as it started. All vision of scale and scope is lost. When two massive creatures fight under the water, with nothing else around, it might as well be a sea horse and cucumber. Why doesn't the octopus rip off a piece of reef and shiv his opponent? I don't know, but it would have been awesome.
The fight ends, with both creatures dead, and the movie ends with our heroes disregarding the test tube for a sunset. How pretty... Wait, didn't hundreds of people die and these are the people more of less to blame because they didn't blow the fucking whistle when they had the chance? Nope, I think we would all be more content if we blame the fucking whales.
Oh yeah, Lorenzo Lamas, typically a soap opera actor, was also in this. He shared the typically racist remarks with Lamar, but his were mostly about the Japanese. Fun!
The Asylum makes plenty of trash films but most are a joy to watch, this is not. It is just bad, bad, bad.
Troll - Dir. John Carl Buechler - 1986 (My title: Harry Potter and the Troll King)
There are movies that people latch on to in the realm of trash films. Some become trendy and are considered "The Best Bad Movie Ever." First of all, that will always go to "Plan 9 From Outer Space." Anybody who thinks different, you are wrong. Just saying. A close second, in fact a very close second, is "Troll 2" (Note: I will never review those two movies. Too much has already been said about both). There is a mystery for some of us though, what came before? What crazy movie inspired our first trip to Nilbog*.
It turns out it is another wonderfully brilliantly bad film filled with its own cheesy moments and bad dialog for people to love it all the same. Is it as bad? Nah... But it is a fun movie in its own right.
I will answer everybody's major first question: Is this really connected to "Troll 2"? Sadly, the answer is "No." (At least until I write "Troll 1 1/2: Seth's Quest To Nilbog") The interesting thing is that there are a handful of actual things that could easily be connected. So it isn't hard to see why the distributors wanted to name it Troll 2.
The story of the first one centers around a family, the Potters. The family consists of Wendy Anne (daughter), Anne (mother) and, I shit you not about the names I'm going to say, Harry and Harry Jr. They have just moved in to a new apartment building. In the basement, is a troll who takes over Wendy Anne and makes her a horrible beast who turns each room and resident into a fantasy world and makes Julia Louis-Dreyfuss' clothes disappear, his greatest trick of all. The only person who notices is her brother, Harry Potter. He goes to the landlady who ends up being a witch and basically he has to kick little girl/troll ass.
What ridiculous things may you find? How about a musical number sung by the rejects from the muppet show? No? A little girl yelling "RATBURGERS!" for 5 minutes straight? No? Well, then the strange relationship the small child develops with a mexican midget must do it for you (dude is talented he plays a midget AND a troll king... damn). Throw in some Julia Louis-Dreyfus ass, Harry Potter dancing to the Summertime Blues like my drunk father at his 50th birthday, Sonny Bono playing a playboy who tells the kids to shut the fuck up and you have would could is an extremely fun ride.
It actually comes off as a very poor attempt at an Amblin-esque children's film. There are points that it works too. The initial scene where the Troll lures Wendy Anne down is genuinely creepy and slightly evocative of the scene in "It" where Georgie follows his boat to the gutter.
However, this film just becomes more and more ridiculous as it twists and turns. By the time you get to the witch growing young and finding out that the Troll used to be a king, and not so much a king but her LOVER, you lose it. You have to laugh, there is no other way to deal with it.
Also, let me state, Harry Potter Jr. is a whiney ass bitch like that beloved wizard kid. All he does is bitch bitch bitch and worries. Seriously, it seems unnecessary, until you realize the parents are totally inept. They don't even think twice about the creepiness that their daughter befriened a 40 year old Mexican midget. All they do is offer him some wine and let him in. Now, I know I shouldn't really be commenting on parenting skills but really... THE FUCK?!
This movie is definitely a lot of fun. Luckily for you, the only way Troll 2 comes packaged right now is on a doubledisk with Troll 1. So you get both great movies for the price of 1. Seriously, check this out. If it is just for the funny celebrity cameos... and Julia Louis-Dreyfus' ass... Did I mention that?
* My spell check keeps wanting me to change "Nilbog" into "Goblin." I don't get why... wait a minute. Nilbog... is Goblin... spelled backwards... OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!
It turns out it is another wonderfully brilliantly bad film filled with its own cheesy moments and bad dialog for people to love it all the same. Is it as bad? Nah... But it is a fun movie in its own right.
I will answer everybody's major first question: Is this really connected to "Troll 2"? Sadly, the answer is "No." (At least until I write "Troll 1 1/2: Seth's Quest To Nilbog") The interesting thing is that there are a handful of actual things that could easily be connected. So it isn't hard to see why the distributors wanted to name it Troll 2.
The story of the first one centers around a family, the Potters. The family consists of Wendy Anne (daughter), Anne (mother) and, I shit you not about the names I'm going to say, Harry and Harry Jr. They have just moved in to a new apartment building. In the basement, is a troll who takes over Wendy Anne and makes her a horrible beast who turns each room and resident into a fantasy world and makes Julia Louis-Dreyfuss' clothes disappear, his greatest trick of all. The only person who notices is her brother, Harry Potter. He goes to the landlady who ends up being a witch and basically he has to kick little girl/troll ass.
What ridiculous things may you find? How about a musical number sung by the rejects from the muppet show? No? A little girl yelling "RATBURGERS!" for 5 minutes straight? No? Well, then the strange relationship the small child develops with a mexican midget must do it for you (dude is talented he plays a midget AND a troll king... damn). Throw in some Julia Louis-Dreyfus ass, Harry Potter dancing to the Summertime Blues like my drunk father at his 50th birthday, Sonny Bono playing a playboy who tells the kids to shut the fuck up and you have would could is an extremely fun ride.
It actually comes off as a very poor attempt at an Amblin-esque children's film. There are points that it works too. The initial scene where the Troll lures Wendy Anne down is genuinely creepy and slightly evocative of the scene in "It" where Georgie follows his boat to the gutter.
However, this film just becomes more and more ridiculous as it twists and turns. By the time you get to the witch growing young and finding out that the Troll used to be a king, and not so much a king but her LOVER, you lose it. You have to laugh, there is no other way to deal with it.
Also, let me state, Harry Potter Jr. is a whiney ass bitch like that beloved wizard kid. All he does is bitch bitch bitch and worries. Seriously, it seems unnecessary, until you realize the parents are totally inept. They don't even think twice about the creepiness that their daughter befriened a 40 year old Mexican midget. All they do is offer him some wine and let him in. Now, I know I shouldn't really be commenting on parenting skills but really... THE FUCK?!
This movie is definitely a lot of fun. Luckily for you, the only way Troll 2 comes packaged right now is on a doubledisk with Troll 1. So you get both great movies for the price of 1. Seriously, check this out. If it is just for the funny celebrity cameos... and Julia Louis-Dreyfus' ass... Did I mention that?
* My spell check keeps wanting me to change "Nilbog" into "Goblin." I don't get why... wait a minute. Nilbog... is Goblin... spelled backwards... OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!
Monday, September 28, 2009
I Know What You Did Last Summer - Dir. Jim Gillespie - 1997
This is by guest reviewer Daniel Schaub. This guy is fuckin' awesome. Trust me, I know. He also loves trash flicks and is one of the founders of a weekly (sort of) festival called "Totally Terrible Tuesdays." He is also part of a comedy sketch group (with me) called "Frozen Peas."
Here is his review:
In 1973 Lois Duncan wrote a young adult suspense novel entitled “I Know What You Did Last Summer”. In 1989 Lois Duncan's daughter was murdered and the case is still to be solved. In 1996, riding the coat-tails of his “Scream” fame, Kevin Williamson sold a script loosely based on this novel. Duncan was barred from the set and disowned the film upon release. So, after wrapping your head around the controversy and contorted horridness of reality, you couldn't believe this film came in singing to the tune of 72 million dollars and two subsequent sequels, one that doesn't even include one member of the original cast. But it did.
How you might ask? (Or you might know the answer already) Is it the cast? Maybe, young hotties at the height of their teen ideology, why not? Is it the direction? Maybe, wait, who the hell is Jim Gillespie? Didn't he direct a Stallone flick a few years back? What about the cinematography, music, sound? All maybes, but there is one and only true answer. Marketing my friend, marketing.
It works out like a recipe, how do you mix the ingredients to make a movie that makes money. So, shedding my critic hat for my poofy chef's hat, I shall share the recipe for good marketing with you. Feel free to whip it up this Thanksgiving; it's delicious with cranberry sauce, canned or made from scratch.
The Crew- Kevin Williamson wrote the seminal horror work of our generation, and future generations to come, with “Scream” which finally taught producers that people who watch horror movies that they are in fact watching horror movies. They were tired of the bullshit viewers were spoon-fed, like they had no idea what was coming next. Williamson became a name overnight and early promotional material bore his name as the creator of “Scream”. And viewers knew immediately that they were in for a treat, where they weren't bored and truly scared. Boy, don't we have egg on our faces now. Is that phrase still in use? Anywhere? No? Oh well. To say the script is formulaic and cliched is saying that Kanye West is retarded. Their producers don't care both the script and West will make money. As far as anybody in the marketing department was concerned, Williamson was the only one on the crew; no director, no cinematography, no best boy, nothing. More or less, in their minds, Williamson typed the script up on his computer, printed it out, subsequently ate the paper the script was printed on, and shat out the completed film on crisp, smelly celluloid. So, you take your crew member and put him a poster (Maybe not even his name) and let simmer for several months. Oh, be sure the poster actually gives no clues about what the film is about. Perhaps a black background with red letters and nothing else, people love this.
The Cast – Young, nubile hotties. Boobs and bronzed pectorals should be in abundance. The second run posters should also include said T-and-A , so if the poster was viewed in 3-d you'd duck under the nearest table to avoid Sarah Michelle Gellar's left nipple. Said film is populated with this spectacular display of human “perfection”.
The Meat - Jennifer Love Hewitt's only... first, let's get this out of the way, Jennifer Love Hewitt is hot; Jennifer Love Hewitt with bangs is not hot... anyway, continuing, Hewitt's biggest movie endeavor prior to this was Sister Act 2: Back In The Habit (but should have been subtitled Whoopi Is Black, Check It Out) which doesn't exactly spell box-office. Hewitt's performance could spell box-office but it doesn't. Acting should be fluid and an actor should be in complete control of their characters mind. What she does qualifies more as rigid and unaware, like she doesn't know if she should be frightened or heroic. The answer is neither. So you need to surround your meat with vegetables, spices, and broth.
The Vegetable – Ryan Phillipe is at least trying to act. He's playing against type, an arrogant asshole, nothing like his character in “Cruel Intentions” or “54” or... So, Phillipe is our life-form which barely qualifies as alive, gliding along feeding from the roots and water spilled out of your glass. It seems second nature for him to play a prick and it wears thin quickly, about 40 seconds in actually. I want to like Ryan Phillipe, I really want to like Phillpe. He's been in some good films “Flags of our Fathers”, “Way of The Gun” and “Breach”. But when he isn't playing an asshole, he's playing confused and skiddish, like a cat in a rocking chair factory. Oh, that saying is out of style too? Damn.
The Spices – Sarah Michelle Gellar is the peppy, pretty type in the film and a peppy, pretty type in real life. What luck, aye? For some, the spices might make a film spicy and bring an entire new palate to the film. In her case, it bring a lot of screams and empty stares. She more like ginger than crushed red pepper. In concentrated portions, it is piercing, and mixed in, you won't even know it was there. Gellar's job is to carry most of the “better” scares but it doesn't work, mainly because she stares blankly until a dead body is found, and then, you guessed it, she screams. And then stares blankly. Another dead body. She screams. But hey, she shows lots of cleavage. There you go. And she was fresh off “All My Children”. Throw it in like Emeril. Bam!
The Broth – The recipe begins and ends here, a headlining, strong element that will give the recipe it's heart. So, we'll cast... Fred from “Scooby-Doo”? Well, truthfully, Freddie Prince Jr. didn't have the box-office power house of “Scooby-Doo” behind, but he did have good looks (really?) and a fan following based solely around the posters apparently, as his biggest endeavor prior to this film was the hilariously named “Detention: The Siege at Johnson High”. But he was listed in the credits second and his face was enormous on the poster so people knew he would be important. Oh, wait, he's actually in the movie about as much as Anne Heche? Wait, Anne Heche was in this movie? Never mind. The importance of a movie about four teenagers being stalked by a killer is to have “FOUR”, count 'um, four teenagers being stalked by a killer. Freddie is relegated to what seems as more of incidental character, like he wandered off a different movie set and was asked to play a cameo part that could be filmed in five days. But we should pray to God, Zeus, or whoever to thank that he doesn't appear more frequently. Its bad, just bad. “Freddie, raise an eyebrow! You're confused!... Thank you!”
The Trailer – Once you have taken the celluloid that Williamson that has shat out, and added the cast from the boiling point of mediocre but beautiful, you need to cut yourself a trailer. Time to get out the big carving knife and chop out the best bits. The trailer needs to make the audience ask questions. Like, what did they do last summer? For most teenagers, in the summer, the killer most likely filmed the day they masturbated seven times in one day. Did I say that out loud? But wait, there's more at stake! Oh, wait. You showed that in the trailer. Well, what does the killer look like? Damn, showed that too. Did you give some nice cleavage shots and screaming? Yes? Huzzah, success!
The Release – Now that you've teased us with the sweet smell of posters and trailers, its time to set the film out on the table to gorge. And just like Thanksgiving, you need to tell everybody, everywhere, to get to the table quick before Uncle Kevin can inform the whole family that the turkey is in fact actually what Williamson shat out. Put these posters, tv spots, trailers, teasers, and the like every-God-damn-where. I was a young, nubile boy in 1997 and I still remember the trailers, thanks to the number of times I dived under the table to avoid mammary glands trying to stab me in the retinas. Keep in mind, I was young and television was foreign to me, just like combustion to the cavemen in “Quest For Fire”. But teenagers, who weren't frightened by cleavage, and who weren't Puritans loved. And you'll love it on your Thanksgiving table, right before Uncle Kevin passes out in the turkey.
Let me get this straight, this movie is awful and is every reason why I dislike the horror genre. But men like John Carpenter, Wes Craven, and Alfred Hitchcock (That's right, the fat guy with the awesomely phallic last name) have shaped more filmmakers of our generation than you can shake a stick at. What? That phrase is archaic too? Damnitt. Jim Gillispie, you are not Hitchcock, Craven, or Carpenter; you're not even Eli Roth, who is the absolute nattier of everything I hate about horror films. Roth will be remembered. Carpenter will be remembered. Hitchcock, Craven; they'll be remembered. You, and this film, won't.
Here is his review:
In 1973 Lois Duncan wrote a young adult suspense novel entitled “I Know What You Did Last Summer”. In 1989 Lois Duncan's daughter was murdered and the case is still to be solved. In 1996, riding the coat-tails of his “Scream” fame, Kevin Williamson sold a script loosely based on this novel. Duncan was barred from the set and disowned the film upon release. So, after wrapping your head around the controversy and contorted horridness of reality, you couldn't believe this film came in singing to the tune of 72 million dollars and two subsequent sequels, one that doesn't even include one member of the original cast. But it did.
How you might ask? (Or you might know the answer already) Is it the cast? Maybe, young hotties at the height of their teen ideology, why not? Is it the direction? Maybe, wait, who the hell is Jim Gillespie? Didn't he direct a Stallone flick a few years back? What about the cinematography, music, sound? All maybes, but there is one and only true answer. Marketing my friend, marketing.
It works out like a recipe, how do you mix the ingredients to make a movie that makes money. So, shedding my critic hat for my poofy chef's hat, I shall share the recipe for good marketing with you. Feel free to whip it up this Thanksgiving; it's delicious with cranberry sauce, canned or made from scratch.
The Crew- Kevin Williamson wrote the seminal horror work of our generation, and future generations to come, with “Scream” which finally taught producers that people who watch horror movies that they are in fact watching horror movies. They were tired of the bullshit viewers were spoon-fed, like they had no idea what was coming next. Williamson became a name overnight and early promotional material bore his name as the creator of “Scream”. And viewers knew immediately that they were in for a treat, where they weren't bored and truly scared. Boy, don't we have egg on our faces now. Is that phrase still in use? Anywhere? No? Oh well. To say the script is formulaic and cliched is saying that Kanye West is retarded. Their producers don't care both the script and West will make money. As far as anybody in the marketing department was concerned, Williamson was the only one on the crew; no director, no cinematography, no best boy, nothing. More or less, in their minds, Williamson typed the script up on his computer, printed it out, subsequently ate the paper the script was printed on, and shat out the completed film on crisp, smelly celluloid. So, you take your crew member and put him a poster (Maybe not even his name) and let simmer for several months. Oh, be sure the poster actually gives no clues about what the film is about. Perhaps a black background with red letters and nothing else, people love this.
The Cast – Young, nubile hotties. Boobs and bronzed pectorals should be in abundance. The second run posters should also include said T-and-A , so if the poster was viewed in 3-d you'd duck under the nearest table to avoid Sarah Michelle Gellar's left nipple. Said film is populated with this spectacular display of human “perfection”.
The Meat - Jennifer Love Hewitt's only... first, let's get this out of the way, Jennifer Love Hewitt is hot; Jennifer Love Hewitt with bangs is not hot... anyway, continuing, Hewitt's biggest movie endeavor prior to this was Sister Act 2: Back In The Habit (but should have been subtitled Whoopi Is Black, Check It Out) which doesn't exactly spell box-office. Hewitt's performance could spell box-office but it doesn't. Acting should be fluid and an actor should be in complete control of their characters mind. What she does qualifies more as rigid and unaware, like she doesn't know if she should be frightened or heroic. The answer is neither. So you need to surround your meat with vegetables, spices, and broth.
The Vegetable – Ryan Phillipe is at least trying to act. He's playing against type, an arrogant asshole, nothing like his character in “Cruel Intentions” or “54” or... So, Phillipe is our life-form which barely qualifies as alive, gliding along feeding from the roots and water spilled out of your glass. It seems second nature for him to play a prick and it wears thin quickly, about 40 seconds in actually. I want to like Ryan Phillipe, I really want to like Phillpe. He's been in some good films “Flags of our Fathers”, “Way of The Gun” and “Breach”. But when he isn't playing an asshole, he's playing confused and skiddish, like a cat in a rocking chair factory. Oh, that saying is out of style too? Damn.
The Spices – Sarah Michelle Gellar is the peppy, pretty type in the film and a peppy, pretty type in real life. What luck, aye? For some, the spices might make a film spicy and bring an entire new palate to the film. In her case, it bring a lot of screams and empty stares. She more like ginger than crushed red pepper. In concentrated portions, it is piercing, and mixed in, you won't even know it was there. Gellar's job is to carry most of the “better” scares but it doesn't work, mainly because she stares blankly until a dead body is found, and then, you guessed it, she screams. And then stares blankly. Another dead body. She screams. But hey, she shows lots of cleavage. There you go. And she was fresh off “All My Children”. Throw it in like Emeril. Bam!
The Broth – The recipe begins and ends here, a headlining, strong element that will give the recipe it's heart. So, we'll cast... Fred from “Scooby-Doo”? Well, truthfully, Freddie Prince Jr. didn't have the box-office power house of “Scooby-Doo” behind, but he did have good looks (really?) and a fan following based solely around the posters apparently, as his biggest endeavor prior to this film was the hilariously named “Detention: The Siege at Johnson High”. But he was listed in the credits second and his face was enormous on the poster so people knew he would be important. Oh, wait, he's actually in the movie about as much as Anne Heche? Wait, Anne Heche was in this movie? Never mind. The importance of a movie about four teenagers being stalked by a killer is to have “FOUR”, count 'um, four teenagers being stalked by a killer. Freddie is relegated to what seems as more of incidental character, like he wandered off a different movie set and was asked to play a cameo part that could be filmed in five days. But we should pray to God, Zeus, or whoever to thank that he doesn't appear more frequently. Its bad, just bad. “Freddie, raise an eyebrow! You're confused!... Thank you!”
The Trailer – Once you have taken the celluloid that Williamson that has shat out, and added the cast from the boiling point of mediocre but beautiful, you need to cut yourself a trailer. Time to get out the big carving knife and chop out the best bits. The trailer needs to make the audience ask questions. Like, what did they do last summer? For most teenagers, in the summer, the killer most likely filmed the day they masturbated seven times in one day. Did I say that out loud? But wait, there's more at stake! Oh, wait. You showed that in the trailer. Well, what does the killer look like? Damn, showed that too. Did you give some nice cleavage shots and screaming? Yes? Huzzah, success!
The Release – Now that you've teased us with the sweet smell of posters and trailers, its time to set the film out on the table to gorge. And just like Thanksgiving, you need to tell everybody, everywhere, to get to the table quick before Uncle Kevin can inform the whole family that the turkey is in fact actually what Williamson shat out. Put these posters, tv spots, trailers, teasers, and the like every-God-damn-where. I was a young, nubile boy in 1997 and I still remember the trailers, thanks to the number of times I dived under the table to avoid mammary glands trying to stab me in the retinas. Keep in mind, I was young and television was foreign to me, just like combustion to the cavemen in “Quest For Fire”. But teenagers, who weren't frightened by cleavage, and who weren't Puritans loved. And you'll love it on your Thanksgiving table, right before Uncle Kevin passes out in the turkey.
Let me get this straight, this movie is awful and is every reason why I dislike the horror genre. But men like John Carpenter, Wes Craven, and Alfred Hitchcock (That's right, the fat guy with the awesomely phallic last name) have shaped more filmmakers of our generation than you can shake a stick at. What? That phrase is archaic too? Damnitt. Jim Gillispie, you are not Hitchcock, Craven, or Carpenter; you're not even Eli Roth, who is the absolute nattier of everything I hate about horror films. Roth will be remembered. Carpenter will be remembered. Hitchcock, Craven; they'll be remembered. You, and this film, won't.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Crimewave - Dir. Sam Raimi - 1985
Let me begin I may be a little bias with this review:
My favorite director is Sam Raimi and two of my favorite writers are the Coen Brothers. I love practically everything these guys have done. So once I heard about this film in 2004, I was all over trying to find it.
Two days ago, I did. Much elation was had on my part.
Disclaimer:
This film really isn't "trash" because of the type of movie it is and how it feels. This movie is "trash" because it has been famously disowned by Sam Raimi because of the shit the studios put him through. It didn't even get a DVD release. So that is why it is my first review.
This is a very strange film as basically all I really want to tell you about the plot (and there isn't much to begin with) is that Vic Ajax, a normal nice employee of a burglar alarm company, gets mixed up in the crazy ass shit of two exterminators who are hired to kill one of the owners of the burglar alarm company by the other owner. Also, Vic Ajax is trying to win a girl from Renaldo the Heel, the man who is trying to buy the company.
This movie is very weird for me to review because there is never a dull moment in true Sam Raimi fashion. However, if you know Sam Raimi, nothing really surprises you in this. I have to say this is the thing that disappoints me the most about the film, in that I wasn't surprised. I had spent 5 years forming in my mind what a Sam Raimi directed Coen Brother's noir comedy script would look like and this is it. That is why this feels so weird because that sentance is a huge compliment, but at the same time my least favorite thing about it.
After the first horrible 10 minutes, there are moments that are really funny. I did laugh a lot. There is a moment with a little kid that is insanely great. It is just, knowing the talent, when the little kid showed up, I knew exactly what would happen. There are really great moments peppered throughout though (and I would be lying if a handful of those great moments aren't thanks to my love of Bruce Campbell).
In fact, this is clearly a pre-cursor to "Evil Dead II" in that once the horrible set up is done, this movie really cooks and flies. It takes thirty minutes for this to happen, but once it does, man is this fun. It takes the idea of "What if we made a looney toons horror film?" but replace horror with crime and you have some idea of what happens. Seriously, the two villians are so over the top and crazy my roommmate kept going "You are fucking lying to me Rob, you are watching cartoons."
The acting in this film though, that is definitely a flaw in the film. Reed Birney as Vic Ajax isn't that bad when he interacts with people, but at points... Damn... throw this guy in "Bride of the Monster" and you got a good fit. Sheree J. Wilson gets by with good looks... barely. She isn't loveable and in fact, seems very very stuck up. Bitch ain't even a femme fatale in this noir film, so what is her point? The highlight of acting is... my friend Kyle will roll his eyes when he reads this... Bruce Campbell. He is just so funny and suave as Renaldo the Heel that damn, I can't resist him. Even though, some of his lines are delivered fairly stiffly but I love Bruce for the attitude, not the talent.
I'm sorry if this review seems a little uneven but it is because my feelings are so uneven. I can't decide of it was great or insipid. What I can tell you is that I had a good time and that it is definitely an interesting experiment of a film. Recommended to anybody who loves Sam Raimi or the Coen Brothers (but mostly Sam Raimi).
My favorite director is Sam Raimi and two of my favorite writers are the Coen Brothers. I love practically everything these guys have done. So once I heard about this film in 2004, I was all over trying to find it.
Two days ago, I did. Much elation was had on my part.
Disclaimer:
This film really isn't "trash" because of the type of movie it is and how it feels. This movie is "trash" because it has been famously disowned by Sam Raimi because of the shit the studios put him through. It didn't even get a DVD release. So that is why it is my first review.
This is a very strange film as basically all I really want to tell you about the plot (and there isn't much to begin with) is that Vic Ajax, a normal nice employee of a burglar alarm company, gets mixed up in the crazy ass shit of two exterminators who are hired to kill one of the owners of the burglar alarm company by the other owner. Also, Vic Ajax is trying to win a girl from Renaldo the Heel, the man who is trying to buy the company.
This movie is very weird for me to review because there is never a dull moment in true Sam Raimi fashion. However, if you know Sam Raimi, nothing really surprises you in this. I have to say this is the thing that disappoints me the most about the film, in that I wasn't surprised. I had spent 5 years forming in my mind what a Sam Raimi directed Coen Brother's noir comedy script would look like and this is it. That is why this feels so weird because that sentance is a huge compliment, but at the same time my least favorite thing about it.
After the first horrible 10 minutes, there are moments that are really funny. I did laugh a lot. There is a moment with a little kid that is insanely great. It is just, knowing the talent, when the little kid showed up, I knew exactly what would happen. There are really great moments peppered throughout though (and I would be lying if a handful of those great moments aren't thanks to my love of Bruce Campbell).
In fact, this is clearly a pre-cursor to "Evil Dead II" in that once the horrible set up is done, this movie really cooks and flies. It takes thirty minutes for this to happen, but once it does, man is this fun. It takes the idea of "What if we made a looney toons horror film?" but replace horror with crime and you have some idea of what happens. Seriously, the two villians are so over the top and crazy my roommmate kept going "You are fucking lying to me Rob, you are watching cartoons."
The acting in this film though, that is definitely a flaw in the film. Reed Birney as Vic Ajax isn't that bad when he interacts with people, but at points... Damn... throw this guy in "Bride of the Monster" and you got a good fit. Sheree J. Wilson gets by with good looks... barely. She isn't loveable and in fact, seems very very stuck up. Bitch ain't even a femme fatale in this noir film, so what is her point? The highlight of acting is... my friend Kyle will roll his eyes when he reads this... Bruce Campbell. He is just so funny and suave as Renaldo the Heel that damn, I can't resist him. Even though, some of his lines are delivered fairly stiffly but I love Bruce for the attitude, not the talent.
I'm sorry if this review seems a little uneven but it is because my feelings are so uneven. I can't decide of it was great or insipid. What I can tell you is that I had a good time and that it is definitely an interesting experiment of a film. Recommended to anybody who loves Sam Raimi or the Coen Brothers (but mostly Sam Raimi).
What the hell is in The Movie Trash Bin?
Well, that is a simple answer: my quest to watch one or more trash film a week and review them for you. Now, this isn't really something new for me. My love of film actually spun off from a night of watching the "Creature from the Black Lagoon" series, and let me guarantee you,"The Creature Walks Among Us" is trash.
However, not every "trash film" is trash. Quite the contrary. Many trash films are pure awesome in their horribleness and some even sneak by being down right genuinely great pieces of cinema.
So if a trash film isn't just bad, what the hell is it? Damn. Well... shit. Hard to explain. A trash film is simply a film made for cheap that a studio didn't believe it. Maybe it went to grindhouse, maybe it was a film that just turned out horribly. Your guess is as good as mine but there is an unidentifiable feeling that you are watching something trashy. You just feel a little more dirty because not everything is in focus or the girls are scantily clad or maybe that bad motha fuck is just too bad for his own good.
So the goal is to watch at least (hopefully more than) 52 trash films in a year. Now, I know this seems like a fairly easy task, and it might turn out that way. Except for the fact that I am currently going to film school. Taking 15 units and at my school (The Academy of Art University in San Francisco) we basically have a film/story/storyboard/essay or some variation on that per class. I don't know if you have ever had to create on demand, but it is damn hard and makes it really easy for me to smypathsize with the creatores of these trash films.
Plus, I also want to watch good movies along the way.
If I miss a deadline I'm sorry and if nobody reads this that is fine, this is also going to function as my own personal record of the trashy films I watch.
So, let the trash begin to pile up!
However, not every "trash film" is trash. Quite the contrary. Many trash films are pure awesome in their horribleness and some even sneak by being down right genuinely great pieces of cinema.
So if a trash film isn't just bad, what the hell is it? Damn. Well... shit. Hard to explain. A trash film is simply a film made for cheap that a studio didn't believe it. Maybe it went to grindhouse, maybe it was a film that just turned out horribly. Your guess is as good as mine but there is an unidentifiable feeling that you are watching something trashy. You just feel a little more dirty because not everything is in focus or the girls are scantily clad or maybe that bad motha fuck is just too bad for his own good.
So the goal is to watch at least (hopefully more than) 52 trash films in a year. Now, I know this seems like a fairly easy task, and it might turn out that way. Except for the fact that I am currently going to film school. Taking 15 units and at my school (The Academy of Art University in San Francisco) we basically have a film/story/storyboard/essay or some variation on that per class. I don't know if you have ever had to create on demand, but it is damn hard and makes it really easy for me to smypathsize with the creatores of these trash films.
Plus, I also want to watch good movies along the way.
If I miss a deadline I'm sorry and if nobody reads this that is fine, this is also going to function as my own personal record of the trashy films I watch.
So, let the trash begin to pile up!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
