Additional cinema website coming

I've been thinking of doing this for a long time and now that time has come: a separate blog that will contain only observations and reviews of movies, the occasional doc-men-tar-y, animated work, & series. Beyond that, there are no rules, I'll do it at leisure and much of it will be my opinions on the state of the movie business. I haven't thought of a title yet, or even given it any thought, frankly, but I will in the next week. The standard American view is to assume that the industry is shielded from all of the problems we're all exposed to in mainstream economic life and somehow exists in its own space and time. It does not. 

Making motion picutres has always been a raging battle against art & commerce. As with everything else, that battle is essentially over with capital winning. The old Hollywood studio system was a separate and organic industry at one time; that time is long gone & ended with the general collapse of the labor movement and the decline of the working class. It was always about spectacle, but now power expresses itself more fully, spectacle being all that's left now. There can be no doubt that the movies were always a pallative--an opiate to calm the masses from making the natural connections about their predicament & revolting--and they still are, indeed, more than ever. It's never been a pure thing, but there was a time when you could still make relatively subversive (to power) statements. 

In the United States at least, most of that maverick spirit died with Sam Peckinpah, and by the late 1970s, nearly all the major studios were being bought up by conglomerates. That process was basically completed by the early 1990s with the death of Orion Pictures, the last genuine independent distributor left standing by that point. (One of their final releases was George Romero's The Dark Half.)

Don't get me wrong, the unions in the Hollywood system cut their own throats by a thousand cuts; but they're just as much victims. Right now, most of the computer animators are watching their own jobs evaporate to overseas labor pools. I'm sure that they never saw it coming. My question is, why?

Inglourious Basterds (2009) review

Where in the world does one begin with Mr. Tarantino's new opus? Let me say first, that he's got a winner on his hands here, hands-down, and that Inglourious Basterds is going to woo even the hardest hearted Tarantino hater, it's that good, that funny.

In 1983, I had the pleasure to see the original "Inglorious Bastards" (1978), directed by the great Italian action director, Enzo Castellari on cable television. It became a kind of legendary movie for me and my friends over the years, and like Tarantino and his crew, we used the short-hand of "Inglorious" when were referred to it. The reason it became a kind of legend to us has a lot to do with the availability of movies almost thirty years ago: there was literally no other way to see this film over the years, and occasionally, I would see an article or a blurb about it, even meeting others who had seen it, but no dice, it eluded me on home video for over two decades.

Finally, belatedly, the word was out that Tarantino was directing his "homage" to the movie and many other war films and the original was re-released onto DVD in 2008 by Severin-Films. How times change. Now you can find the most obscure movies ever lensed, and easily, even cheaply. I assume Tarantino somehow saw the original "Inglorious" either the same way (TV), or through his job with Roger Avary (now in deep doo-doo over...you don't even want to know) at that legendary video store he was once a mouthy but knowledgeable clerk at. It must have been one hell of a well-stocked video store, that's all I'm saying. The critics are already weighing-in that this is a tale of revenge, and it is, but that's if you take the surface-level of the film with the utmost seriousness which is losing the entire point with his movies. Yes, Tarantino goes to incredible pains to create a convincing cinematic reality, and yes, this is based on Castellari's original tale in some very basic areas (like the title, and the fact that it takes place in occupied France during WWII), but that's about where it ends; this is about movie reality and the homage once again. You either like the director's writing and directing style, or you don't, and I'm with the former.

Recall that Castellari's original 1970s "rip-off" of The Dirty Dozen (1968) is really more an homage to Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch (1969), a story about another group of scoundrels that you end up at least respecting by the end of the film because they do something good to redeem themselves. To cut it short, Inglourious Basterds isn't even a revenge film or a revenge fantasy at all as some critics have written. It's more and less than that because it's not really about WWII directly but about the cinema before, during, and after the war, the cinema surrounding the rise of National Socialism and its demise, and the movies made about it after-the-fact. Once again, this is a movie about movies, so just enjoy the ride.

If you really wanted to reduce a good part of the movie itself to its fundamentals, you could equate it with someone talking about WWII cinema and the nature of the movie business in the 20th century, which when referring to Hollywood means that the subject of Jews in the business is inevitably going to come up (and not necessarily in a negative-light). It's not a political film, but it does have some interesting political implications to it; one way of describing it is that it's WWII through the movies, even being "won" by the end through cinema, film itself, quite literally, as part of the plotline. Fortunately, that's not giving away too much. As with most Tarantino movies, we get the famous chaptering. The very first scene is very reminiscent of the style of Sergio Leone and many parts of the film could be compared to a Spaghetti Western with faces serving as landscapes, and landscapes serving as faces; and as you might expect, many of the characters are "stock" ones grabbed from other WWII films. There are even occasional nods to the great war movies of Sam Fuller.

But then, we get a lot of references to the cinema of the 1930s--mostly German and French, a little American--like the references to Leni Riefenstahl, who as a Teutonic heartthrob of their "mountain films" wowed German audiences and had a certain sex appeal among the Nazi cadre. Riefenstahl had other talents that would flourish under National Socialism. She later went on to direct the most well known Nazi propaganda film, "Triumph of the Will" (1935) and "Olympiad" (1937). But then, we also hear about G.W. Pabst ("Pandora's Box" with the sultry Louise Brooks), and even Henri-Georges Clouzot's "Le Corbeau" (1943). This is all going to be over the heads of most moviegoers when they go to see Tarantino's new work, but it adds to the experience and cinematic richness nonetheless.

And then there is the violence: it's not nearly as graphic as many reviewers are painting it, and it's not present in much of the film. I'm sure some Jewish members of any given audience watching this movie might view it as a revenge story of some sort, and to some extent it is, but so is Death Wish with Charles Bronson. Everything is a prop in Inglourious Basterds, used by Tarantino to drape his dialog and vignettes on. I think that's about as deep as Tarantino wanted to get into that aspect of his tale, a story that could be seen as autobiographical in some strange way. There's not much that I can say that's bad here; from the production design that's right out of Tinto Brass's "Salon Kitty" (1976), to the musical-stings by Ennio Morricone copped from several Italian classics of the 1970s, and even to the use of David Bowie's "Putting Out Fire With Gasoline," this is about style, and little else. There's nothing wrong with that.

There is gore (a couple scalping scenes are probably referencing William Lustig's "Maniac," not even a war movie), there is violence, and you could be forgiven for thinking that Tarantino decided to place Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs in the midst of WWII, but it's all very deadpan, very funny material. The comic timing itself is pretty impressive and the dialog is up to the writer's normal standards. Perhaps what's most impressive is that Quentin Tarantino has forced American audiences to sit through a roughly 3 hour motion picture where 3/4's of it is subtitled, no mean feat. I predict a hit here. There is no real political message to Inglourious Basterds anymore than there was in a lot of the WWII genre, and if there was, it was unintentional and purely a product of the times they were made in. With the ousting of an "ugly American" president in George W. Bush, there is at least for this brief moment that one thematic-thread that runs through most of the postwar WWII genre: the mutual-ties between the former allies and their cultures, their people. Even Star Wars reads like a retelling of WWII, but Inglourious Basterds could read like a retelling of the movie industry after it. So far, Europe has been "liberated," conquered at Cannes.

In a telling scene with comedian Michael Myers and a character actor playing Winston Churchill, the British high command wants a briefing on German cinema under the Nazis from one of their officers. The look is right out of the films of Michael Powell and even Lindsay Anderson. The Myers character brings-up the fact that "Goebbels has gotten the Jews under control" in their motion picture industry. Churchill chimes-in: "We need to find-out how they did it." An enigmatic statement if ever there was one, but a funny one; Inglourious Bastereds is a knuckleheaded flick for cineastes, a must see, and almost as funny as 1984's "Top Secret."

Anticipating Rob Zombie's Halloween II

WWW--YES, I loved Rob Zombie's reimaging of John Carpenter's original Halloween, I thought it was extraordinary and worthwhile, almost a "what if" of filmmaking--think Peckinpah doing a slasher.

All the more reason to do a reimagining of the 1981 sequel, since it, well, sucked. Everything that the original Halloween was accused of--namely, being bloody and gratuitous--were writ large in the original Halloween II, it never justified its existence. Zombie's films justify themselves purely on their stylistic charms, but he does have point-of-view, something that's sorely lacking in most of today's cinema. Where are the great directors? Maybe Rob Zombie has yet to prove his mettle as a "great" director," but he's gradually convincing me, and I've been watching movies for at least 36 years.

Other than maybe Guillermo Del Toro, I'd have to say that Rob Zombie is one of the only noteworthy directors my generation has yet to produce. Whenever they make a new film, I'm as excited as I ever was or am when the new Terry Gilliam or David Cronenberg film becomes news.

Why? Zombie actually has something to say, and I thought his first remake in this series was a good anti-violence tract, it made me cringe the way a horror movie's supposed to, but it didn't allow me to like the carnage. This irritated a lot of the audience I saw it with a couple years ago, your typical Indiana goober crowd. Zombie went for the Kubrick approach from A Clockwork Orange or Peckinpah's masterstrokes in Straw Dogs and Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia: show violence and its consequences, show it for what it is, ugly and tragic. More of the same? Bring it on, I want more...

Tropic Thunder (2008) review

Ben Stiller's Tropic Thunder is everything its critics have said it is: it's offensive, it walks a fine line on race...oh yeah, and then there's the "tard scandal" hyped by people looking for something--anything--to protest. It's just incredibly an offensive movie, and that's what makes it great. We should demand to be scandalized, but humorless turds are humorless turds.

Like Yasuzo Masumura's "Giants and Toys" (1958), or Kubrick's "Dr. Strangelove" (1964), Tropic Thunder is social satire at its best and criticizes all war movies.

That doesn't mean it isn't entertaining or too high brow. It isn't, and anyone who inhabits this era in the developed world is going to understand the many social and cultural observations in this film. Audiences will also find it very easy to understand exactly who and what are being criticized (the current incarnation of Hollywood and spoiled movie stars).

But Stiller and co-writers Justin Theroux (who's also the executive producer and a great English actor) and Ethan Cohen make a whole lot of gleefully brutal comments on our mass culture, our peculiar attitudes, and our unquenchable appetite for spectacle and ultraviolence....wrapped in a movie that's supposed to be "antiwar."

Hollywood and movie production companies tend to overstate their sincerity when tackling "issues" like war, poverty, and all the rest. They don't generally tend to care at all, it's a business move. Tropic Thunder makes this case well throughout.

This was pointed-out by Lenny Bruce in the late-1950s and by many other social critics over the years, and it's not a uniquely American viewpoint. Movies are made to make money--a lot of money--and that's about it. The rest is garnish, with a little sincerity here-and-there in some productions. Fine.

Without giving too much away, we're treated to a troubled Hollywood production stuck in Vietnam, making one of those "horrors of war" films we all love to watch to feel better about ourselves, while doing nothing to prevent the phenomena of meaningless conflict. Hollywood isn't the only one playing the insincerity game, after all. But the writers stick with hitting Hollywood over the head, and as a result, they even accuse themselves of hypocrisy. This is a very brave moral and career position to take, and it's likely to add to the film's popularity for the chances it takes.

Too often, Hollywood creates spectacles that claim some higher moral ground, yet simultaneously cater to the bloodlust of audiences in their stylizations of violence (if they get that far). This is something even "Wild Bunch" (1969) director Sam Peckinpah was guilty of at times, though it's debatable whether it was conscious or not in every case.

Tropic Thunder is where entertainment also becomes art, though this could be one of the funniest and most entertaining comedies I've seen since my first viewing of Animal House. You're in for quite a ride if you have a sense of humor about yourself and life.

The three main characters are the spoiled movie stars, played by Stiller, the inimitable Jack Black, and one of the greatest actors of this era, Robert Downey Jr. Stiller's washed-up Tugg Speedman is eerily similar to Sylvester Stallone or even a Vin Diesel, while Black's Jeff Portnoy might be a heroin-addicted Luke Perry mixed with an Eddie Murphy. But it's Downey's Russell Crowe-like Kirk Lazarus who virtually steals the show as an Australian actor who takes "method" acting too far: he gets plastic surgery to look African-American, and he never breaks character. In short, he's a little nuts, as some actors are, and gets on the nerves of a Black cast member who constantly calls him out.

This alone is incredibly edgy for a contemporary movie, offering many possibilities to fall over the side and lose the audience, but Stiller, Theroux and Cohen (and Downey) pull-it-off and achieve a kind of comic ecstasy only seen in Kubrick's Strangelove and few other films in cinema history. There are times when Downey's Lazarus is photographically and phonographically convincing as a Black soldier, and it must be seen and heard to be believed. But there's even more...

Almost entirely unannounced is Tom Cruise's brilliantly comedic performance as the Weinstein-like Les Grossman, a corporate movie executive whose vulgarity and crassness knows no bounds. It goes beyond spouting the word "fuck," and Cruise has once again made the right move in taking-on the role of such an unlikable (yet oddly likable!) character. The Grossman character understands that he's a fucknut and a tyrannical asshole, and all of the inherent comedy of this fact. In a way, he actually "gets" it all--that the movie business is complete bullshit, a game.

That's not to say that the Grossman character isn't evil, but he's really something to watch in Cruise's expert-hands. Tom Cruise almost owns Tropic Thunder and deserves some serious credit for his performance, possibly even that little gold guy. He's Dr. Strangelove and General Buck Turgetson combined, and he's given us a performance that would have done Peter Sellers proud.

The movie-within-a-movie approach is very sound here, especially at the beginning of the film. What we see are some of the realities of a movie production: all the waste, the backbiting, the egos, the compromises forced on directors by spoiled "stars," the tainted motives for making a "message picture," the addictions, the troubled actors, and the nightmare of shooting outside of a soundstage. The comparisons to other troubled war movie productions are going to be obvious to most, like Coppola's "Apocalypse Now" and Oliver Stone's "Platoon." There are others, as there was a whole spate of Vietnam war films over the 33 years, many-of-which could be referred to not only as "insincere," but simply bad. The majority of war movies are.

On the "retard" scandal: this is the most overblown part of the release of this film. For the curious, I am acquainted with people who have mentally-impaired children. I wasn't offended by this at all, and the repetition of variations of the word "retarded" simply became funny for its own sake and had little to do with mentally-retarded children or adults. Downey's Kirk Lazarus and Stiller's Tugg Speedman have an exchange over the career-merits of playing the "retarded" over the simply "impaired":

Lazarus: "Full-on retarded--no one ever comes back from that."

Lazarus character mentions a number of films--like "Rainman"--where the characters only appeared to be "retarded," but actually had some other form of impairment. In Rainman, it was autism, and the crazy Lazarus notes that nobody ever won an award from the Motion Picture Academy when they played a "full-on retard," or the "dumbest motherfucker in the world."

Tropic Thunder, then, suggests that what's really offensive is exploiting the impaired to advance one's career and to line one's wallet by making "message" movies about them. The reactions of critics couldn't be more wrong-headed, and should be met with contempt. There are few better antidotes to antidemocratic tendencies cloaked in niceties than unrelenting belittlement and humor. Bravo.

There was no comment being directed towards the mentally-retarded or impaired that was hateful--just the opposite, the attacks were aimed squarely at the hypocrisy of Hollywood in exploiting impaired people for ticket sales, and for actors to win awards. I can say with all honesty that I've never laughed so hard at a scene of dialog in my entire life. There's nothing wrong with referring to someone as "mentally-retarded," it's medically accurate, it's the intent and the tone that count. I leave it at that. Tropic Thunder is a must-see for all the right reasons, and it's what movies are supposed to be. Ben Stiller has topped himself, and so have his collaborators. Good show.

Everyone's a comedian, but what would Jesus™ actually do?

Jesus™ would (if he weren't carbonized-dust somewhere in Palestine):

1. Jesus would never call anyone "nigger," "spic," "chink," "gook," "slant," "wop," "kike" (we know this one), "mick," "spade," "ofay" (he wasn't white, get over it), etc. .

2. Wash AND dry, because he's a nice guy and a responsible guest.

3. Jesus would watch NC-17 movies because he had depth and curiosity, unlike his subsequent generations of followers. His favorite director is Pier Paolo Pasolini. I asked him last night.

4. Jesus would always be in-trouble because his beliefs wouldn't be popular in-practice today. Luckily, only a tiny minority of self-proclaimed Christians have ever done this: himself and St. Francis.

5. Jesus would vote independent, and never for a Republican or Democrat unless they were enlightened (there's a clear-and-empty shot there so far...). He would be a hard-left voter who hates the sick, greedy rich as most reasonable people have throughout human history.

6. As a carpenter in an industrialized, mechanized, and technological world Jesus...would do very little work. He would be unemployed unless he was lucky and had a journeyman's union-card.

7. Jesus would say, "I told you to give unto Caesar what is Caesar's, but I didn't mean 'worship him or myself as a god.' I never said, 'worship authority.' " Like the last time, nobody would listen or change their behavior and would go on like before in the standard dumbshow way.

8. Jesus would save green stamps, finding-out that they were worthless later-on, exclaiming as he did on the cross: "Lord, why have you forsaken me?"Indeed. Clouds would gather as they did in a Cecil B. Demille movie--but didn't at the actual crucifixion--and the mourners would gather (also more than at the actual crucifixion). Birds would fall from the sky, but the universe would shrug as it always does.

9. Because Jesus would see our industrial and technological reality as a hell on earth, and because he would see America as the New Rome, he would read Philip K. Dick, Mark Twain, Melville, Huxley, Blake, Poe, Marx, and Nietzsche voraciously. He might even smoke pot occasionally.

10. Jesus would avidly watch Sam Peckinpah movies because he hates violence and murder. His favorite would be "Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia."

11. Jesus would find Deborah Jeane Palfrey innocent for every reason you suspect.

12. Jesus would abolish the death penalty for every reason you suspect.

13. And finally, Jesus would be very-very angry that anyone would suggest what he would do, nearly 2,000-years after his untimely death, as most human beings would. Luckily, it doesn't matter, only what he taught about treating each other better does. "He who lives by the sword dies by the sword," said Jesus. So mote it be. We murder a guy for saying, "Be nice to each other," and then we feel bad and are haunted by the guilt of it for two-millennia. We're still pagans, barbarians flailing our way through history. It will end one day. So mote it be.

Rob Zombie's Halloween (2007) review

In 1978, I tried to see the original John Carpenter film, but I was only ten-years-old. Interestingly, the local theater played it again in 1980, as the word-of-mouth on the film had spread and it had become a major independent hit.

For a long time it was the most successful independent film ever made, though the lousy Blair Witch Project ended that record. What can I write about the original that hasn't already been written? It's incredible, and very atmospheric, a favorite, and still pretty plausible and creepy. It could happen. The same could be said for the new version.

Rob Zombie has given genuine horror fans a wonderful gift: we don't have to feel bad about missing the original when it came out anymore. This is equally good and pays incredible respect to the original, and Zombie discussed the project and his take on it with John Carpenter beforehand, something that wasn't done with the so-so 'Dawn of the Dead' remake.

Shot in the same widescreen Panavision (2.35:1), we get a familiar story with some significant changes: gone is the possible supernatural quality of Michael Myers, a phantasm who becomes something non-human, a part of the holiday itself. He's just 'the shape' emerging fully-formed in the 1978 version. In Zombie's recasting of the original screenplay by John Carpenter and Debra Hill (RIP), the focus isn't on the mystery surrounding the killer, but offers some explanations as to why he is what he is.

This version makes the killer and his victims human, and this is where a number of so-called horror fans are going to be split. To make his point clear, the director begins the film before the prologue killings of the original, and paints a more contemporary and honest view of American family life, while setting it as a period piece in the late-1970s (the time of the original film's release).

It's a very vivid recreation of the decade that was my childhood, and it has an aspect of social realism to it, regardless of the stylization of the film itself. It's an awfully realistic depiction of squalid American working-class family life during that era, which I bore witness to in other families around my neighborhood. These are the people nobody cares about. Little has changed, as the movie makes clear, and the seeds are now bearing their fruit.

Rather than the brief glimpses of a straight-laced 1963 Myers family, we see a disaster of sexual, emotional, and physical abuse. This wouldn't have been possible in 1978 to the degree it's depicted by Zombie and his collaborators (if you wanted an 'R-rating' then), and actor William Forsythe (Patty Hearst, Dick Tracy, The Devil's Rejects, and much more) does a fine job playing an abusive step-father to Sheri Moon's stripper mother. It's not a healthy home environment.

What I found mind-blowing, however, was just how well Rob Zombie remembers the cultural landscape of late-1970s America, it was jaw-dropping. From the expletive-laden, sexually humiliating slang of the kids bullying young Michael in a school bathroom, to the music, the kitsch (t-shirts and joke-stickers abound), and the attitudes, he's brought the 1970s to gasping, breathing life again. It's an incredible time-capsule, and it made for what is a great way to adapt the story to a contemporary culture and setting: NOW.

As one would expect, there is a lot of movie history and homage to be found in this film, and it's a real joy, but the director decided to take-up the aesthetic of Kubrick and Peckinpah in his depictions of violence and murder. What's that you say? Read on.

If you've ever watched a Sam Peckinpah film, you already know what I mean. If you've ever watched--truly watched--Stanley Kubrick's "A Clockwork Orange" (1971-72--cut and re-released due to an early 'X-rating'), you understand what an anti-violence movie must do in order to get its message across: it has to show mayhem for what it is, which is drawn-out, ugly, and something that has consequences for the perpetrators and society. You're not supposed to get-off on the violence, you're supposed to be repulsed and fearful of it.

Insofar as violence and murder are concerned, it's well-established that once the door has been opened, it's rare that it ever gets shut until all the players are dead or neutralized in some fashion. Will gore hounds love Zombie's 'Halloween'? Yes and no. They'll enjoy the brutality and grimness--there's plenty of that on-offer here--but they're not going to find the violence entirely enjoyable or even tolerable...that is, if they're normal.

From "The Wild Bunch" (1969), to "Straw Dogs" (1971), and even to "Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia" (1974) and his final film, "The Osterman Weekend" (1983), Sam Peckinpah wanted to show us that violence has consequences and that it is something ugly and to be feared. His message was cautionary, and that same message is apparent in Rob Zombie's take on Halloween. It's not meant to replace the original at all, but to compliment it.

The story-jump of fifteen-to-twenty-years is covered more here--the time that Michael Myers is locked-away in the mental institution, and his time with Dr. Sam Loomis. As most fans of the original remember, it was the late Donald Pleasance who played this part, and exceptionally well. Cult legend Malcolm MacDowell lends the same authority to the role, we well as cementing the anti-violence message of the film by his mere presence, and his performance is of a more caring Loomis. He pities Michael Myers, and in a nice touch, his relationship with the killer is extended back further as a school counselor.

As in the last two Rob Zombie movies, we get a gaggle of b-movie legends: the great Ken Foree (1978's Dawn of the Dead, From Beyond, and much more), the incredible Bill Moseley (Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, House of 1,000 Corpses, etc.), Joe Pilato (The Matrix, and almost everything else), the great Udo Kier (Andy Warhol's Dracula, Shadow of the Vampire), Brad Dourif (Blue Velvet, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Dune), Clint Howard (everything), Danny Trejo (Grindhouse, Maniac Cop 2, Whore, From Dusk Till Dawn, etc.), Richard Lynch (God Told Me To, The Sword & the Sorcerer, Deathsport, Vampire, and more), and several others who will please most movie buffs.

But what I found really smart was casting the Laurie Strode character (originally played by Jamie Lee Curtis) with someone with a low-profile as an actress--Scout Taylor-Compton. Little Daeg Faerch as '10-year-old Michael Myers' is the real eye opener here, and he makes the movie very unsettling. Imagine watching a child descend into insanity--I cannot think of anything more disturbing, but that's what Zombie depicts. It's like a slice of Poe, it's the essence of horror. We get to see the process unfold, even after the initial murders, and it's not exactly entertaining. It's truly horrifying to watch a little boy transform into a killer.

Very few films--to my knowledge--have ever depicted a child murdering another child in a drawn-out fashion (think Hitchcock's "Topaz"). The Loomis character adds to the 'whys' of how Michael Myers became a murderer--that he was a 'perfect storm' of 'internal and external influences,' someone with pre-existing tendencies who was pushed too-far by his environment. It might have went in another direction in another home, another community...another life. But it didn't. Rob Zombie's Halloween, then, can only be a classic tragedy that is almost mythic in its examinations of violence and the family.

Wisely utilizing an original score with the original Carpenter themes (albeit adapted) and a bulk of new musical-cues , as well as that same William Shatner Halloween mask, Zombie has scored a classic study in what makes a serial killer while retaining what made the original so good. One could find comparisons to Richard Speck or even Henry Lee Lucas and Ted Bundy. The parallels are there for the curious to examine. A must-see for those concerned about the roots of violence, and a solid addition to the canon of horror. Evil has a destiny alright--constructing its own demise. Rob Zombie has nothing to prove after this film, good job.

Grindhouse: Double Feature (2007) review

This was far better than I expected, and is probably the best deal for your money in 2007. I don't think I've seen a double-feature in over thirty years, so this was a real treat. Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino have made classics here with "Planet Terror" or "Death Proof," making some great additions to the b-movie universe.

As everyone knows by now, there are also trailers for fake-movies, and so, this review will cover each one of them as well. Remember: people used to make out and/or have-sex in the theaters while the originals were playing. They didn't usually bother to watch them--hence the term "grindhouse." I know this because I witnessed couples "doing it" in theaters back then.

"Machete trailer" (director: Robert Rodriguez): This was an obvious homage to all the revenge pictures, and some of the "Death Wish" rip-offs. It's about a Latino hired-assassin (the great Danny Trejo, who's been in almost every Rodriguez movie) a man betrayed by his latest scumbag employer (played by Jeff Fahey). Naturally, they almost kill him in a set-up, but he survives and gains a sidekick in a Catholic Priest (Cheech Marin!!). Hilarity ensues, and the voice-over is as bad and funny as all those real grindhouse trailers. Keeping-with the aesthetic of "Planet Terror," it has the scratchy-print look, frame-jumps, and crackly-sound. I loved it. Rumor has it that this is being lensed now for a direct-to-DVD release when Grindhouse is released to the format."Planet Terror" (director: Robert Rodriguez): Many reviewers have said this is the best-part of the double-feature, and I'd have to agree. That doesn't mean Tarantino's "Death Proof" isn't great, however. Most horror fans will find this satisfying: a biowarfare chemical ("DC-2") has been released and is creating a contagion of infected zombies who are...wow, pretty-disgusting. They're basically becoming swollen pus-bags that are mutating and decaying all at once.

Then, there's the military convoy that ices some Indian scientist who has something they want. He collects the balls of other men, and carries a bag of them around! Most of this is an homage to George Romero and John Carpenter, and there was even a scene where James Brolin's psychotic doctor character gets slimed that has a musical cue from Escape From New York.

In addition to being an homage to Romero's and Carpenter's films, this is a tribute to all the Italian knock-offs, like "Escape From the Bronx," and Sergio Martino's "2019: After the Fall of New York" (1983). Tarantino's cameo also has a reference to Lucio Fulci's "ZOMBI" (1979). You'll know it when you see it. Then you have the chicks: Rose MacGowan's go-go dancer character is pretty bizarre (and hilarious), while Bruce Willis's part is small, but crucial. It's a bigger part than most reviewers have reported, and he shines.

Jeff Fahey is excellent as the Texas BBQ chef, the brother to Michael Biehn's (Terminator) "Sheriff Hague." Overall, the characters are well-drawn, and we see just about every cliche of this kind of movie in Planet Terror. Best of all: we get the misogyny of the b-film with the addition of a feminist response. The women are the heroes here! This theme continues into "Death Proof" with its ending that this writer believes is the death of the "frail woman" in the movies.

I was impressed! The final scene with Bruce Willis even has a little offhanded political-statement to it about the war on terror. I won't spoil it for anyone. Pure horror bliss, and possibly a classic in its own right. Great for the intentional plot-holes, dopey dialog, and a woman with an assault rifle for a leg. Hilarious and satisfying! What could be more terrifying than the two Hispanic babysitters? Be honest.
"Werewolf Women of the SS trailer" (director: Rob Zombie): This was just kickass! Udo Kier (Blood for Dracula), Bill Mosley (Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, Rob Zombie's Halloween, etc.), Tom Towles (Fortress, House of 1000 Corpses, Henry Portrait of a Serial Killer), Sherry Moon, and Nicholas Cage in his best performance since "Red Rock West" (1993)--this little faux-trailer almost beats the features! This is an obvious homage to the "Ilsa She-Wolf of the SS" movies from the 1970s, a guilty-pleasure! Visually, this is probably the best there is in Grindhouse, which is saying a lot, and it must have cost a fortune. Classic.

"Don't" trailer (director: Edgar Wright): This was funny, and looked like an homage to "Hell House" (1973) and "The Haunting" (1963), but really is just a great example of how wrong-headed marketing was in the glory days of the grindhouse. Alternate-titles were often picked by the distributors, rather than the filmmakers, and so you got movies with names like this! I'm guessing this is an indirect-reference to Mario Bava's "The Whip and the Body" (1963), which had the unfortunate American title, "What?". Yep. Pretty funny.

"Thanksgiving" (director: Eli Roth): I think every horror-fan knows who Mr. Roth is by now, the director of "Cabin Fever" and "Hostel." I love this guy, and his movies are respectable additions to the horror and thriller genres. He really has the same love for b-movies as Tarantino and Rodriguez, and he belongs here just as Rob Zombie does. This was pretty offensive! Of course, that's why it's good, and you're going to have to see this with your own virgin eyes. Word has it that it was this trailer that almost scotched an R-rating from the MPAA. Excellent, and an homage to "Black Christmas" (1974) and many others. Did I say it was offensive? Classic.

"Death Proof" (director: Quentin Tarantino): The reviews of this are unfair. Most of them have said that the movie here is too dialog-heavy, which isn't completely true. Besides, isn't that like saying Fellini's films are "too carnivalesque"? Imagery aside, dialog is why Tarantino is liked so much--dialog! The characters here are just so well-drawn, which is crucial. You have to know these characters first for their impending-deaths to mean anything, and you have to like them at least a little so that you fear for their lives. Yes, Tarantino is commenting on other hot rod action movies, but we're still watching this for characters and for story.

We're introduced to a stable of girlfriends who are extremely mouthy--this is inaccurate?! I've overheard young women talking like this ferchrissakes! So did Tarantino, apparently, and he reproduces the speech of these kind of chicks accurately.

He's done his homework: the dog sure didn't eat it. What most viewers forget is that many of the b-movies were like this: you had to wait for the last-third of the film for the payoff. You necked during the first 2/3rd's. And are the chase scenes great? They might just be the best ones lensed since Sam Peckinpah's "The Getaway" (1972), or even "Bullitt" (1968), or even the excellent "Cannonball" (1976). It's also true that Kurt Russell isn't technically the "star" of Death Proof--the ladies are, and the serial killer known as "Stuntman Mike" has likely overstepped himself targeting a group of stuntwomen.

Russell's barroom scenes are superb, and you can tell that Quentin Tarantino has waited his entire life to write dialog for Kurt. Nobody, and I mean nobody, delivers lines like Kurt Russell. And what a treat this segment is for lovers of muscle cars!! If it's not a classic, it sures comes close. Quentin's next movie will be a remake of Enzo G. Castellari's "Inglorious Bastards" (1977), one of the best b-movie takes on WWII ever (outside of Sam Fuller), and the best rip-off of "The Dirty Dozen" (1967).

Strangely, Tarantino's Death Proof doesn't utilize that many of the scratches, frame-jumps, and the audio-dropouts that Rodriguez's does. It does have the "missing reel" aspect, however and it's pretty grainy in parts like. Not bad. Not bad at all. I cannot wait for the DVD, and expect multiple-editions. In some countries, each film is getting released separately in longer cuts.