Archive for March, 2008

haha

Monday, March 31st, 2008

To begin, please view: [via]

Unbelievable. I did some more digging went to the URL listed and found a couple other videos here. I want them to film my wedding. The greatness is in the ridiculous. It’s like watching those mildly depressing brain-vibrating local Kia ads with the want-to-be Austin Powers for those that aren’t so local, click here but much, much worse.

My favorite part? “What about animation?” as some weird graphic from a discarded 1982 beta tape marches across the screen. Oh, and anytime Sharon is on the screen. Her enthusiasm, if used for evil, could melt the adorable off newborns.

Bonus: if you have 8 minutes to spare, here’s one of their productions. Unreal.

he was a quiet man

Monday, March 31st, 2008

Christian Slater hasn’t been this awesome since true romance (or maybe very bad things). His performance as the Milton-esque office drone is pretty impressive. Cuthbert does a pretty good job, also. It was entertaining and intriguing, though the end has me slightly miffed. It’s fairly predictable, but confusing.

The direction is great. Bob (Slater) is disgruntled, to understate it. There are quite a few fantasy sequences and Cappello does them well. The C.G.I. is used quite a bit, but doesn’t get to the point of annoying. The whole thing is visually appealing and does a good job of conveying Bob’s mood throughout. The interaction between the characters is exaggerated and almost surreal. There’s almost no character development, but the way Bob interacts with them changes. That leads to the ending, sort of.

I won’t ruin it, because I think this a film worth watching, but I’m left with an uncertain reaction. The event is fairly interesting and, though it’s predictable, is a pretty solid ending. The idea behind it is what confuses me. If you look it up, you’ll see there’s a lot of debate on the I.M.D.B. (caution, spoilers are everywhere on there). I agree with some of it, but I think the ending was better than a lot of people give it credit for. That’s all though.

I think it’s a fun show to watch and the idea is pretty solid. The execution may be a bit stale, but it’s darkly humorous and entertaining.

***

horrorfest ’07

Monday, March 31st, 2008

Horrorfest is a series of low-budget horror movies that came out all in the same two weeks. I saw a couple in the theaters, but recently took time to watch the rest of the eight. Thoughts are below. I’ve ranked them, the last one being the best of them.

Nightmare Man
From appearances, this was shot in three hours with a $300 camcorder with a budget of three grand. The actors were just slightly worse than usually come with a Sci-Fi channel original. The plot was preposterous, predictable and incredibly lame. They took the worst parts of The Mask, fallen and any slasher movie ever in order to make a surprisingly large pile of lame. The story had no real path and generally stunk of afterthought. I could have made a more interesting film. I give them style points for injecting completely ridiculous toplessness and a few bouts of almost-orgasm moaning.

Things I learned:
Never date an attractive girl and visit one of her college friends in the woods. Women are helpless unless they imply that they are at least slightly into other women. Men are protectors, but generally die far quicker than you’d imagine. Never hang out with slutty women. Evil will rip your clothes off and send you to Crazyville faster than accidentally shooting a small child. Which is pretty fast.

Unearthed
I have never once seen such lack of attention to treacherous demon. This thing was ridiculous. It looked like a character from a super nintendo game jumped the cable and was granted a starring role. Which, I guess is nice for him. Still, the premise was impressively weak and the action wasn’t even that interesting. There was some sort of “science” that they kept trying to throw at me, but I wasn’t having it. They also wanted to throw in a side-plot about the sheriff that was humorously unnecessary.

Things I learned:
Women are helpless unless they are drunken sheriffs or obscenely smart in the ways of biology and radiation. Native Americans know creepy mysticism and the ways of the earth like old white men know Republican politics. When driving through the desert, always get gas at every station. There’s some sort of die out there that, when applied to organic matter, reflects different colors depending on if it’s part of the plant kingdom, animal kingdom or the others (there are five). Don’t be an archaeologist.

Mulberry St.
This one is sort of like I am legend or 28 weeks later, but without the intent to make something watchable. The idea is overplayed and obvious. They went the extra mile and made the creatures just plain dumb looking. The acting was sub-par like golfing a 300 and passing out drunk in a sand trap is “sub-par.” This one gets more points because it force-fed some sort of reunion plot into the whole thing. The infected were awesome looking.

Things I learned:
Interacting with people will get you infected with an unknown virus. We need to clean our streets. Not because of our growing homelessness problem that no one talks about, but because we’re endangering out lives. Cloth, against all laws of physics, can fall straight down like a stone in the right (read: fictional) circumstances.

Lake Dead
The story revolves around three sisters, who inherit a resort on a lake when their estranged grandfather passes. It is every slasher movie you’ve ever seen, but mostly friday the 13th and another one that has incest in it. It’s preposterous, mildly disturbing and filled with ridiculous to a point that even I was laughing in the theater. The production value is less than the combined worth of my t-shirts and the acting is on a 5th-grade-play level. The sisters are relatively attractive, but the entire thing is laughable.

Things I learned:
Again, avoid slutty women. You will die. Don’t be a bad-ass. You’ll die. In incestuous procreation, for every normal-looking, dim-witted offspring you get a horrifyingly deformed intellectually-vacant giant. If you inherit a resort from an obscure relative, ignore it. Sell it site-unseen. It’s likely your family is batshit crazy. If you go up to inspect the property and organize your affairs, you’ll die.

Crazy Eights
You have some kids who, for some reason I missed, end up back at a home they don’t remember being terrorized by some sort of ghost they can’t identify. It happens all the time, but this time is different. Well, okay, so it’s not, but maybe you thought just then that it was. Anyway, they all come back and are plagued by a guilt for something they don’t remember until act two. This would probably be categorized by a thriller if you were promoting it and as predictably lame in any other case. This was apparently based on true events. Sort of like how Deep Impact probably was.

It starts out with a professor lecturing on the instinctual feeling of guilt and how it’s ingrained so that society can exist. This, of course, means that she did something shitty and twisted that will play itself out in the rest of the movie. There are some awesome death scenes and a what-not-to-do lesson to screenwriters throughout. It’s a fun show and about as thought provoking as the first six stories on any local news broadcast.

Things I learned:
Guilt is natural and universal, so things you do as a child are unforgivable. Behavior modification is wrong. Stay with the group. I repeat, stay with the group. If you wander off you’re guaranteed to become lost and be attacked by a figment of your imagination. Never sneak up on a just-recently-blinded woman holding a jagged-ended pipe.

The Deaths of Ian Stone
This one came action-packed with lofty abstract ideas and dramatic near-effects. The concept was interesting, but the execution was terrible times ridiculous. The acting, for at least the first bit, was better than any of the others talked about ’til now. It took the creature movie to another level by forcing a romantic plot on us while speaking inanely about other dimensions and other oddities. The action is paced fairly well and kept attention despite the film’s absurdity. I’m a sucker for supernatural sci-fi thrillers, so I was already going to like it more than the others. Take my thoughts as you will.

Things I learned:
Um… well… nothing….. oh, wait. Maybe that supernatural beings have a college-aged coed fetish?

Borderland
Here’s another one that was based on true events. I think this one is more on the mark though, because it basically tells the tale of a few adventure-seeking near-grads who head down to Mexico for some fun times and they all sort of end up disappeared after finding a mass burial site and a group of crazies. There’s a lot of human nature wrapped up in this one. The acting is pretty terrible, but they mask it in not knowing the language or speaking through horrible accents. The story is grandios and hard to swallow, but the gore is impressive enough.

Things I learned:
Never, ever, go to Mexico. You’ll die.

Tooth and Nail
What would happen if gasoline ran out? This movie attempts, with about as much suspension disbelief as anyone can handle before their brain leaks from their ears, to answer that topical question. Apparently, with no refined fuel or, I guess, alternatives, we forget how to farm, die off in vast numbers and go all Donner party on everything. I would like to think the human race would be able to, say… tear down an abandoned house and plant potatoes before started reenacting scenes from the most dangerous game, but it definitely played into my pessimistic nature. The acting did the job, but was lame in a lot of parts. The story was relatively impressive, if you ignore the logic-void that spurred the depicted events. It had treachery, hope, Rider Strong (Cabin Fever), Vinnie Jones (snatch) and a shitton of gore.

Things I learned:
Alternative fuels are a myth. As soon as gas runs out, we have no hope. Even if you’re 6′ 5″ and three hundred pounds of muscle, a knife to the gut will kill you almost instantly. Cook your meat thoroughly.

Overall, the experience was enjoyable. The eight films probably have a combined budget that matches any one lame horror movie in the works. They may have been cheap, but they covered aliens, apocalypse, slasher, ghost and supernatural genres. They’re all ridiculous and I feel slightly dumber by watching all of them, but it was totally worth it. Let’s hope that After Dark gets some money off these things and can put a little more financial investment (and maybe thought) into the next round. And remember, as always, watch Sci-Fi on saturday nights.

In summation:
** for comedic effect and general gore.

death at a funeral

Monday, March 31st, 2008

The story on this one is sort of like eulogy (if you’ve seen that). Relatively estranged family members meet in order to mourn the loss of their brother, husband, father, etc. There’s the usual humor centered around inadvertent drug use, unimpressive choices in soon-t0-be spouses and any number of other family drama injections. The dialog is quite funny and the story is paced very well. It never got boring and the twist was not only fairly unexpected, but was, like most things after it, hilarious.

British humor is usually a bit darker, smarter and more subtle than Americanized funny. I tend to enjoy it, so I’m completely biased. Still, this one rates well on my list of death-centered comedies. The story-line is solid and kept me entertained through the thoughtful, if slightly forced, climax.

The acting was pretty impressive. I liked Alan Tudyk (dodgeball, as the pirate) in this one. Fairly accurate portrayal at least according to my assumptions and uninhibited awesome. Peter Dinklage (station agent) was awesome. His expressions and reactions were spot-on.

I liked it. It was quite dark, but came out with a satisfying resolution. The characters were believable and identifiable. There was enough emotion and intensity to make the situation real, but enough lightheartedness to keep it from swallowing me whole.

***1/2

soundtrack

Friday, March 28th, 2008

They cover my ears, blocking aural interference almost completely. The digital acoustics seem to emanate from inside my head. The outside world is drowned out but for what I can see. From the plane overhead to the scraping of my shoes on the sidewalk, the sounds are muted and I walk along as if inside a modern silent film. Almost all outside sounds are blocked.

The isolation is satisfying, like a cup of cold water on a hot day or a blanket fresh from the dryer on a cold night. A confused glance easily silences any stranger asking for the time or spare change. Interaction is reduced and it’s excused. Whether listening to music or not, the assumption minimizes conversation.

While the music fills my ears, my mind wanders to fill the gaps. Without hearing what’s really going on, I establish fanciful lives of those passing by or sitting across from me on the bus and rail. A woman may only be talking excitedly into her cellular phone, but I imagine she’s unleashing a horrific tantrum on the unfortunate person on the other end. A man may be talking to a friend of his a couple rows up on the rail, but I picture him talking incoherently to a stranger. Other times I wonder what’s really going on…

Sitting on the bus, facing forward, I watch her climb the stairs and sit in one of the seats that faces the opposite windows. Her hair is mussed and unwashed. Her tan,corduroy jacket is faded and worn. The purple scarf she’s carelessly tossed around her neck has holes and is frayed in many places. Her jeans are a size too small and the thighs of them are worn thin. Her off-white boots are stained with mud and covered in splotches of green paint, the soles are flimsy.

She starts to talk emphatically about something, but no one around her even glances in mild attention. A couple stops later, she starts to make disgusted faces. She takes the second-grader’s scrunchy out of her hair. It falls in clumps across her shoulders. She stashes the hair tie in her tattered backpack and pulls out a couple alligator clips. She twists her hair, wraps it around itself and hastily clips her hair up against her head. Chunks of greasy hair spray out from the clips like shoreline ferns after an oil spill.

She gestures wildly to a woman across the bus in the row of seats that faces her. Her face contorts into varying expressions of disgust and she pulls out her aged purse. She reaches in and takes out a compact. The powder clouds around her. Then she grabs a lipstick and paints her lips bright red. She puts everything back, re-crosses her legs and leans back. She looks satisfied.

The songs from my mp3 player acoustically mask anything coming from her mouth. Is she throwing insults at anyone that looks at her? Is she talking loudly to herself? Is she making sense? Is she homeless? Is she asking people for change? Is she cracking jokes?

Everyone around her pretends she’s not there. Their eyes dart back and forth, stare out the window or down at a book. They ignore her completely, but she still appears to yammer on. She shifts her position often and the woman next to her looks irritated, but doesn’t say anything.

After a few stops, the woman stands, flings the backpack over her shoulder and hooks her purse onto her arm. She steps off the bus and looks around. She looks confused, but everyone getting off the bus with her is walking quickly in either direction, ignoring her…

I lean against the Plexiglas wall of the light rail car, looking across at a couple standing only a few feet away. The woman is portly, with blond hair and a tote bag filled with books and what look to be work supplies. A Tupperware container of sauce is perilously close to falling out between the fabric handles. She’s leaning against the man’s chest, her face turned away from me into the nylon of his discount winter coat. He has a round face and bulky frame and looks about my height.

He rests his right hand over the hanging handle, his left cups her right butt cheek with his thumb in her jeans pocket. He’s talking to her with a smirk-like smile under the bill of his baseball cap, from someplace in South Dakota. He appears to be talking solemnly about something, leaning in and kissing her and hugging her close to him at random intervals.

A few times, she responds, but has no power behind her statement. She seems defeated. She looks up at him, he leans in and they kiss awkwardly. She pulls away from him slightly. They talk a bit and then she walks across the train to a seat beside where I stand. She puts her bags on the ground, slumping against the window with her chin resting on her arm. She looks through the window but doesn’t seem to see anything.

He still has the same, almost jovial, expression. His eyes dance around the car. He reaches into his worn backpack, pulls out a novel and starts reading. His head drops and his face is hidden behind the bill of his cap. He shifts his feet, enclosed in low-end tennis shoes that look like hiking boots.

The rest of the trip, they don’t make eye contact. He never raises his head from the book. She glances at him a couple times, shaking her head slightly before returning her eyes to the distant point out the window.

Did he just admit to cheating? Is he meeting his buddies after work for a drink instead of meeting her for dinner like he had promised? Is he trying to cheer her up after some terrible news, to no avail? Does she feel trapped in a thankless, unsatisfying relationship? Did they have an argument this morning that blew up into personal jabs and emotional roundhouses? The music blasts through my headphones as a new song reaches its crescendo.

The train comes to a stop and she slinks out the door with her bags. She looks over at him. He looks up, smiles inanely, and gives a small wave with the hand hooked over the handle. I wait for my stop, step off the train and make my way toward the office.

The sounds of the traffic to my right, of the dozen people I walk past and of the typical city bustle are blocked almost completely by whichever song is randomly selected by my player to send music through to my headphones. No one takes a second look or attempts to get my attention.

once

Friday, March 28th, 2008

This one was created in three weeks with a handi-cam. It’s the first, and so far only, role for both Glen Hansard (as Guy) and Makéta Irglová (as Girl). It’s a simple story following these two as they meet, make music and cut an album, all almost completely on chance. It’s far superior to any romantic comedy/drama that’s come out in the last couple years.

I don’t want to overstate it, because the movie speaks for itself, but it’s realistic and impressive. The music is awesome and the acting is surprisingly solid. As some of you know, I liked the Notebook, but this is better. Notebook had the parallel plots and strong acting and story, but this one is brilliant in its simplicity.

I recommend it as a date movie, because you’ll wish someone was around when you’re watching it (cheesy right?). It’s smart, aurally awesome and is remarkably subtle.

****1/2