Nothing To Lose (1994)

Check out that image above. It's beautiful, isn't it? Perfect framing, vivid colors. Ah shit, I took that thing with my cellphone. The VHS box laid against a wicker back chair (Yeah, that's right. I have a piece of wicker furniture in my apartment. Fuck off). That's the prettiest I could get it to look. There wasn't one fucking image for this movie online. Anywhere. I thought of just using a picture of Paul Gleason (Die Hard and The Breakfast Club), but Gleason doesn't really deserve that. And he just died. Not really a fitting epithet.

This thing isn't as good as a piece of corn embedded in a piece of shit.

Immediately after playing this fucker, my VCR began devouring the tape. That should have been my first sign. I yanked out the tape, opened the flap, and re-spooled the thing. My experience with Nothing To Lose should have ended there. Like Ramon (Juliano Mer) I figured I had "nothing to lose", so I popped it back in, fast forwarded to the opening credits, and let it play. Steve, if the tape malfunctions on you later I'll reimburse you a dollar for the purchase.

Our story begins, as so many do, with a street fight for money (think Lionheart). A referee instructs the fighters to "do whatever you want. Just play by the rules". These rules apparently include gratuitous ball kicking. One of the fighters, the eventual winner, is Ramon. I'm pretty sure he was supposed to lose (for a fix) because the next scene involves a mafia hitman murdering Ramon's family in perhaps the funniest murdering-of-the-family scene ever put to film. Silencer, awful sound effects, no blood, long pause before falling down, etc, etc. It's all in there. The killer leaves Ramon's younger sister alive and orphaned. Can Ramon win custody of her while also avenging his families death? It's a tricky situation because he needs to show he can hold down a job that doesn't include just doing "this or that". He'll have to prove he's a good person to social worker Natasha (Alexandra Paul) , especially if he wants to bang her in the end.

*Spoiler*

Ramon succeeds and bangs Natasha. It's possibly the only sex scene, in a non pornographic film, placed at the end of the movie. It's not really gratuitous and it's poorly lit (i.e. no clear tit shots), but it's there. It's amazing. It makes sense though when you think about it. Most films place this scene at the middle of a picture or right before the hero takes on the bad guys for the climactic battle. Any trained medical mind will tell you to have sex after battle. This is the first movie that's ever gotten it right.

*End Spoiler*

I didn't like this movie. In fact, I hated it. Still, it had Paul Gleason and I liked his scenes. Gleason is best known for playing Principal Vernon in The Breakfast Club. Here, he plays Elliot, a Vernon-esque, ball busting police detective. He's like a piece of ivory in an elephant dump. He'd much rather be retired and moving to florida, but he'll stick around for one more case. He makes it clear that he's doing it for Ramon's little sister. He takes a line such as (when referring to Ramon) "he's an animal. He wouldn't know trust if it bit him in the ass" and turns it into.....something, which is more than what they had to begin with.

Unfortunately, Ramon is a prick. It's impossible to root for him. First of all, he's constantly punching guys in the balls. After being arrested for starting a fight in a club he explains to the cops how he "was defen-ging a woman". Sorry, that's another thing. His accent is a little hard to penetrate. Not his fault, but it still annoyed the shit out of me. He's the kind of guy that's always refusing help, but in constant need of it. Also, when he greets his sister at social services (after their family has been murdered) she hands him a picture that she painted for him. He says "nice", then picks her up and discards the picture behind her back. This actually happened. Between the punching of the balls and the dishonesty, I can't really abide this guy. He's a decent fighter, sure, but how would he fare if he kept it above the belt? The best thing I can say about him is he sure likes his ice cream, meaning he's sorta sensitive.

This picture has several quirky moments which are out of the ordinary for something like this. There's an attempted rape lifted from A Clockwork Orange. Included in this scene are the lines exhanged between the two, would be, rapists; "What a surprise Ed. Tonight we get to be heterosexual" and, after undoing his pants, "I told you to play some fucking music and I do mean fuck-ing music." I liked Gleason's line to a couple of keystone cops working under him that let Ramon escape: "You're through! You're on permanent suspension as soon as you get him back!" After this film, cops started cuffing hands behind one's back and a barrier was installed between the front and rear seats in all patrol cars. For that reason, this picture is to be commended.

Frank Pentangeli (The Godfather II) plays the mob kingpin who took Ramon in as his own son, after murdering his father years ago and then had the rest of his family (sans his little sister) murdered after he didn't go along with the fix. At one point, Ramon "captures" Frank's son, Daniel. Daniel, since he's basically Ramon's brother and all, goes along with the plan. Also, it gives him the opportunity to record the score to Nothing To Lose on his keyboard while sequestered in an abandoned warehouse.

Do you need another reason why Ramon is an asshole? After being captured by Frank and having the shit beaten out of him, he gives up the address where Frank's son is located. Only, it's Gleason's address instead. It did provide us another nice Gleason moment when, sitting in the living room with his wife watching TV, the doorbell rings and Gleason looks up clearly peturbed and wonders "now who the hell could that be?"

The pictures climax, of course it's set in a warehouse, involves Frank's gang and a rival Yakuza gang making a deal that get's all fucked up because of the lousy American exchange rate. This film, made in 1994, was kinda prophetic in a way. The Yakuza leader explains to Frank that his "dollar is as weak as his tea." Massacre ensues, Ramon waits until everyone (except Frank) is dead, then makes Frank cry before sparing his life. Whoops, forgot the spoiler warning.

With this being an action movie, I guess my only hope was for some competently shot action scenes and a little boobage. Not a chance. Some of the hand to hand clips are ok (even if the characters are clearly pulling their punches), but the shootouts are atrocious. Lots of delayed reactions to getting shot followed by some flagrant overacting. It's a high school production. The picture was directed, produced, and written by Izidore Musallam. He's perhaps best known for directing Adam & Eve, which, as featured on imdb, is defined by the plot keywords: "sex standing up". I'd love to see that one someday. This one, Nothing To Lose, is as bad as they come. I feel sorry for Paul Gleason, having died and all with this picture (amongst several more terrible ones) standing out on his resume. Who knows? Perhaps, at the time, he had...*

*I refuse to say it

KAW (2007)

Sheldon Wilson (Untitled Sheldon Wilson Project) directs one from the "most dangerous night on Television" collection. This one's called Kaw. I'm pretty sure you can figure out what it's about from the poster art (left). If not? what else can I say? If the birds ever decide to murder us, you're probably dead in the first wave. This plays like a loose sequel to Hitchcock's The Birds, except that it's only one type of bird (ravens) that turn against man. Also, The Birds already has a fitting sequel in the Brad Johnson starring, Alan Smithee directed classic known as The Birds II: Land's End. Smithee is pretty much the most versatile director in the history of cinema. His projects have included the Hellraiser where Pinhead goes into space, an episode of "The Cosby Show", and The OJ Simpson Story. I'm pretty sure he directed Rudy too, but checking IMBD it becomes pretty clear that he had his name removed from that piece of shit. Kaw is a little better than The Birds II. It's debatable whether or not it's better than Cat's Eye, the one with the murdering sun-uv-a-bitch pigeon on the ledge. My gut tell's me "probably not". Without question, it's far superior to the upcoming Michael Bay/Platinum Dunes' shitter called Sodomizing Hitchcock's Bones . Bay and his crap-factory, Platinum Dunes, are also responsible for Reeming Tobe Hooper a New Asshole and supposedly they'll be doing the same to Kathryn Bigelow (Near Dark, really? Bay and his cronies are actually remaking that?) in the near future.

For a Sci-Fi original, Kaw is about par for the course. It features a couple has-been actors like Sean Patrick Flannery (Powder) and Rod Taylor (Walker Texas Ranger and The Birds). Flannery plays the police chief of a small mid-western town. I'm sure they mentioned the name, but damned if I can remember it. Taylor is the grizzled old town doctor. Steven Mchattie, who was oh-so-despicable as the old killer at the beginning of A History of Violence, plays Clyde, the recovering alcoholic bus driver. He was actually pretty solid in this one. He's a poor man's Lance Henriksen. I'm not sure why they didn't call on Henriksen for the part, but maybe his agent priced him out of the equation. The cast is rounded out with a few sluts (making up a high school team, basketball I think, trapped on the bus with Clyde), a poor man's Joaquin Phoenix (Flannery's deputy), Kristen Booth (Cruel Intentions 2) as Flannery's wife, and Betty (diner proprieter).

Basically the Amish suck. That's the gist of the story. Ok, I just learned that the m-fers in this story aren't actually Amish, but Menonites. What the fuck is the difference? Well, I think these guys can ride in cars? They still grow awkward looking beards, wear wide brimmed hats, speak a barely intelligible dialect, and live on farms. Well, I'm mostly kidding. I've never met a Menonite before. Everything I know about them I learned from two films; Witness and Kingpin. They certainly didn't suck in those films. Oh wait, those guys were Amish. Damn this is confusing. Perhaps Wilson, the director, just has an axe to grind? Maybe a pack of Menonites murdered his family. More realistically, Wilson is probably just from a small town where a Menonite farmer let some mad cow disease go unchecked. It then spread to the local raven population who fed on the infected cattle carcasses. Due to the neglect of the Menonites, the townspeople were then set upon by mad cow infected birds. Wait, that's exactly what happens in this film. If that really happened to Wilson's town I can totally understand where he's coming from. However, in defense of the Menonites, it's possible they tried to warn the town only their letters didn't arrive in time. And, if there are any Menonites reading this well, then, I don't know.....are you sure you should be on that computer? I don't think you have a right to be pissed. I may have called you out but you had to break a sacred rule to find out about it. Whose God gonna favor?

Flannery is the chief of police who has "had his fair share of speed traps and parking tickets." He and his anthropologist wife (Booth) are looking to leave town but, first, he has to investigate an old man's "accidental" death on a farm. It was during the old man's death that I thought the film would actually have some balls. Initially, it seemed like the killer-bird epidemic was started after the old man accidentaly ran over one of their brethren. Unfortunately, the filmmakers didn't stick to their guns. I guess simple revenge wasn't "scientific" enough for the boys at Sci-Fi, hence the mad cow angle. Whatever. So, yeah, this old geezer was pecked to death and Flannery investigates. As the story progresses, the birds get more aggressive. It's all real simple. Eventually, the few remaining townspeople hole up in a central location (the diner) and try to stay alive. It's Night of the Living Mad Cow infected ravens. There's also a sub plot about Flannery's wife spending a good chunk of the movie stuck in a Menonite well after learning of their nefarious plans to keep their role in the spreading epidemic from the "english". Would those Menonite bastards kill to keep their secret safe? And, if so, would they use god-sanctioned weapons?

Despite featuring an assinine plot, characterizations, etc, the movie still managed to include some adequate special effects. I loved the silhouette of the ravens against the moon. I liked how the ravens were stark raven mad, yet retained enough of their senses to be able to work together, something these solitary creatures can't even manage when sober. The tragic demise of the deputy, complete with sad music, nearly brought a tear to my eyes. I don't know, it seemed to me, while watching, that Young Indiana Jones could have done more to save him. Many of the townsfolk wished the Menonites would just go away: "Why don't you go make a quilt, bake a pie, raise a barn, whatever. Just stop looking at me." This type of movie almost always features a doomed dispatcher and this one is no exception. As soon as the airwaves go dead, it's a sure sign that the town has been overrun.

There's a moment in this film, a moment so startlingly terrifying that I'm pretty sure you might just crap your pants. Of course, this happens when the ravens "throw" rocks at the bus windows in an attempt to get in. Stranded in the bus are Clyde, three female basketball players and their coach, Coach Bird Feed. Also, a Menonite girl (apparently this picture couldn't bear to have a plot strand without one). I liked the scenes involving the stranded bus. Basically, they consisted of Clyde running out to fix the bus, birds attacking, running back on the bus, and so on. The tension of the scene was created by adding a faulty door into the mix.

Finally, the film resolves itself back at the diner. The survivors make it back there, board it up and, still, the ravens get in. A Menonite elder tries to legally cover his ass by proclaiming "We have not kept to ourselves as we believe God wants and now he is punishing us for it." Uh huh. Sure. So, it has nothing to do with the mad cow disease you allowed to progress unfettered? Mother. Fucker. Anyway, Clyde comes up with an incredibly ridiculous final solution for dealing with the ravens. A solution so ridiculous, I'm not even sure how it worked. It's possible for Sci-Fi to do better, but to paraphrase a doomed character from this film, they're (the Sci-Fi Network) trapped in mud or shit or something and the ravens (awful, worthless films) are going to get in eventually (debut on an upcoming saturday night). Not sure how that fits, but whatever. I want a King Kong vs. Godzilla inspired sequel where the Kaws take on the abmominables from the coda of Abominable, only the abominables are sorta good, and the Kaws get the shit stomped out of themselves. Wow, I'm rambling and I'm tired. I guess I have one more thing to add. Why is it that the state police or the National Guard in these pictures can never make it to town until sun up? Are we to believe that their numbers are spread thin by similar incidents across the county, the state, the nation? It happens in every one of these pictures. I want a film where the national guard arrives on time, immediately followed by the marines, the CDC, a litany of mercernaries, some benevolent alien bounty hunters, maybe even a few hookers and still they're fucked.

Shadow Of A Scream (1997)

Before Mystic River, before Gone Baby Gone, Before The Departed, there was Shadow Of A Scream. Dare I say this is the definitive Boston crime thriller? Nah, I'm just kidding. Other than the brief mention that this thing takes place in Boston, or in parts around, there really isn't any way to tell that this takes place in beantown. Oh, sure, the finale takes place in a lighthouse, so it at least invokes New England at one point. Also, the cast members in this thing should never have the word "definitive" anywhere near their names (unless we're discussing television shows about bouncing jugs or thirtysomethings).

Actually, forget that. This is the definitive David Chokachi (Baywatch) film. It's not the definitive Timothy Busfield (Thirtysomething) picture, however. That distinction, of course, lies with Revenge of the Nerds. I want to say that it's most certainly the definitive Athena Massey film, but then I checked IMDB and realized she was in Red Shoe Diaries 9: Slow Train. This picture also stars Cyril O'Reilly (Patrick Swayze's Black Dog).

So, what's it about? A serial killer is loose in the Greater Boston area. A killer who finds his victims in personal ads geared towards S&M (this was before Craigslist "casual encounters", so I imagine this guy had his work cut out for him). This guy is kinda sick. One near victim recalls how he put his knife against his own penis and it wasn't even erect, so clearly this guy is disturbed. The first victim is found in a wooded park, stuffed in a garbage can. She was assaulted, sexually, violently, and violently sexually. Chokachi plays Darren Metlick, the #1 suspect. Why? Famed criminal psychologist Matthew Grissom (Busfield) explains that he's a loner with a history of abuse. Therefore, guilty. It's up to detective Alice Redmond (Massey) to go under cover and try to stop him. Also, on the side of good is detective Don Holy-rod (O'Reilly) who is also Redmond's lover. When I say lover, I mean that Holy-rod likes to take Redmond from behind while pulling on her hair. But he's ok because as Redmond says "you know the great thing about you Don? You stop when I say no." Or does he? Don is the red herring (or is Metlick the red herring?) of the picture. The only thing I know is that, regardless of who the killer is, both of these dudes are pretty sick fucks.

The picture does a pretty decent job of fooling us. I was convinced for a while that Don was the killer and that perhaps Metlick was just misunderstood. Sure, he likes to fuck with a knife to his girls throat or tits or whatever, but, I don't know, I'm sure there are girls into that sort of thing. He just needs to look harder. There's a lineup scene early on involving Metlick, but they need one more guy, so the captain orders Don in there. Guess who the old bag (witness) picks? It's clear that Don and Darren are both sexual deviants (at one point, I even wondered if they worked together). There's a classic scene where Don's advances are spurned by Redmond, so he drives to the park (murder site) in a drunken stupor. It's midnight, so the park is empty, except, except....for a midnight female jogger in a blue jumpsuit. Women have been murdered there, dismembered, raped, etc, but it's perfectly safe to jog there after dark.

Anyway, the subsequent autopsy is a classic in the autopsy oeuvre. First of all, the women in the blue jumpsuit isn't even dead yet. She's breathing quite rapidly, but that doesn't stop the examination from commencing. They discover a carving on her stomach and Grissom claims "my friends, this is our rosetta stone. Figure out what it is and we can catch a killer". Um, the killer has the same carving on his stomach. Wouldn't that be pretty easy to find out?

For a direct to video feature I've certainly seen worse (The Triggerman for example). Some of the camera work was actually pretty good, especially Redmond's shower scene (with the camera focusing on her from above). The acting is atrocious, but in this film's defense there's certainly worse out there (Triggerman for example). I loved the "suspenseful" finale at the lighthouse, especially the killer's ridiculously facile death scene. This isn't really a Boston crime drama. Accents aren't even attempted. Aside from the lighthouse, we don't really get any sense of location. There is some nudity, but unfortunately most of the breasts have a knife to them. It's kind of like a reverse Basic Instinct the more that I think about it with Massey standing in for Douglas, Chokachi for Sharon Stone and, I guess, that would mean big ol' George Dzunda is O'Reilly (although that creates the image in my head of Dzunda taking Douglas from behind). Oh, and obviously Busfield is Jeanne Tripplehorn. Seriously, this picture is terrible. Dust off your VCRs and check it out.

Xanadu (1980)

What was I expecting? Rollerball the musical?? Kind of. This is one of the few musicals that deserves its status as a cult film. The plot is fairly insane. Michael Beck (The Warriors) plays Sonny "Michaelangelo" Malone a struggling artist working for Airflo Records under the tryannical watch of his boss, Simpson (The Ron Silver-like James Sloyan). By day, Sonny replicates album covers with his brush. By night, he dreams of being a respected artist.

One night, Sonny tears up a water color and flings the remnants out the window. They float across town and land in front of a mural, which features five beautiful woman. Of course, they come alive to the tune of the 80s hit "I'm Alive". In the mural is Kira (Olivia Newton John), who is to become Sonny's muse. After a meet cute, they fall in love. At the same time, Sonny has befriended a boardwalk musician named Danny (Gene Kelly). Danny turns out to be a millionaire who gave up his dream of music (he played early on with Glenn Miller) to live the "comfortable life" in Construction. Danny seems to recognize Kira. Is it possible she was his own muse a long time ago? Unfortunately, this picture doesn't have any room for creepy love triangles.

So, basically, the movie is about following your dreams. Sonny and Danny team up to ressurect an old run down roller-rink into a new club to be called Xanadu, which merges both the old world (big band era) with the new (rock & roll, synthesizers, spandex). It's a horrendous idea and one that could only be imagined in 1980.

Did I mention that Kira is also the daughter of Zeus? There's a terrific scene where, after breaking Sonny's heart by leaving, Sonny follows her into her realm. To do this he rollerskates at top speed into a brick wall (the one with the mural on it). Of course, he goes through the wall and into a mystical world with bright neon and smoke machines. Kira appears and is accompanied by the voice of Zeus, who forbids her to leave. Even Zeus' wife, Mnemosyne (wait, were they actually married?), intercedes on Kira's behalf. Still, Zeus is unshaken and sends Sonny back leaving Kira alone to sing "suspended in time". The song is convincing enough and Zeus agrees to return her to Sonny for either a "moment" or "forever" since they still haven't quite figured out this time thing yet.

The music, for me anyway, was a mixed bag. I recognized several hit songs from the era including the aforementioned "I'm alive", "suddenly", and "magic". Of course, there are the mediocre numbers like "Dancin" and "All Over the World" which is notable for reminding me of a similar moment from National Lampoon's European Vacation. My favorite was Newton John's duet with Gene Kelly called "whenever you're away from me". Gene Kelly, alone in his massive study starts to sing and, suddenly, a big bang (whoops. Freudian slip? I meant "band", I swear) appears with Newton John singing. So, of course, she was his muse all along. Kelly was wrong when he said "I'm gettin old babe. You wouldn't even know me now." The song is terrific, but watch too closely and you'll notice some faulty choreography. Actually, that's kind of an issue I had with the film (it's a minor one, to be sure. Do you think I really care about dancing??). They should have ditched the roller skates. Not only do they completely date the movie (as well as the songs, the hair, the clothes, Newton John, Michael Beck, Spandex, etc), but neither Olivia nor Beck are able to dazzle with their skating. The dance numbers on skates are, frankly, boring.

This is way more than I ever wanted to write about Xanadu. It's a pretty trippy movie, especially the final title song, which I can imagine was quite a hit back in the day. Olivia Newton John is incredibly adorable, sexy, beautiful. In fact, it's always been my dream to sleep with her. And yet, I don't see fucking Zeus sending Kira down to the Boston Commons on rollerskates to help me achieve that dream. Asshole.

Four Times That Night (1969)

It's about time I reviewed something sexy. No, this isn't porn despite what the dvd menu (above) hints at. This is a perfectly harmless Italian sex comedy by way of Kurosawa's Rashoman. I'm going into this particular genre fresh. The only movie I've seen that even comes close is Barbarella (it's not that close). I find it interesting that Four Times That Night was directed by Mario Bava, the godfather of Italian horror. Before Argento, before Fulci, there was Bava. The thing about Bava, however, was that he could never be pinned to one particular genre. He devled into gothic horror (Black Sunday), splatter horror (Bay of Blood), westerns (Roy Colt and Winchester Jack), viking pictures (Knives of the Avenger), and he even tried his hand at a heist film (Rabid Dogs). Of course, Rabid Dogs quickly devolved into Last House on the Left-esque mayhem and didn't stop itself at forced female urination. So, his subject matters were often harsh, often disturbing, frequently bloody and, yet, he never strayed too far from a sense of whimsy. His films often featured rousingly entertaining scores accompanied by a strikingly visual acumen. He's influenced such directors working today as Scorsese, Tarantino and, of course, Argento.

Four Times That Night is an example of Bava's whimsy. This film is pretty fun starting with the neat opening credits featuring some animated nudes and the positively upbeat late 60s jazz music. The plot is pretty simple. Gianni Prada (Brett Halsey) is driving around when he spots Tina Brandt (the exquisite Daniella Giordano) walking her poodle. Upon seeing her, he hits the breaks and immediately yells out "hey! I almost drove off the road! I nearly had a heart attack." She's taken in by this sweet talker immediately. After a few minutes of chit-chat, followed by a few provocative, nearly up-skirt shots, a date is arranged. What follows is Bava's take on Rashoman as the viewer is presented with four different versions of the date; Tina's, Gianni's, the doorman at Gianni's estate, and some weird psychiatrist dude who espouses some bullshit on the meaning of perception, etc.

As Tina arrives at her mother's house after the date, her dress is torn. How did it get that way? Each version of the story is completely different. There's some sexual assault, lesbianism, roofie-ism, homoeroticism, smut-peddling-ism, voyeur-ism, nudi-ism, man-in-a-speedo-ism and various other isms strewn throughout.

The doorman provides, by far, the best version of events when he recalls, to his assistant, spying on Gianni and Tina from an opposing terrace. In his view, Gianni's friends Giorgio and Esmeralda (lesbianishly played by Pascale Petit) arrive to party. Gianni and Giorgio begin dancing together while the naive Tina asks "what are those two doing? Are they dancing by themselves?" Giorgio and Gianni quickly retire into his bedroom whilst Tina still thinks they are just "hanging out". Esmeralda comforts Tina by telling her "she's not Gianni's type. You're not a fireman with chest hair." Esmeralda begins seducing Tina, but her advances are ineffectual until she uses the powerful line "I've slept with thousands of men, but you've never slept with one woman." Also, the date rape drugs were starting to kick in by this point. I loved when, as soon as it looks like Tina might actually be into it, the doorman is shown Benny Hill-ing his way down to the office to retrieve his binoculars. Of course this being the perverted, sex-starved, smut peddling doorman's perception of events, Gianni is clearly gay and out of view.

The material may sound a little extreme, but there isn't a cruel bone in this little film's body. There is some nudity, but it's often obscured by arms, a lamp, or that annoying glare cast on that one little portion of the glass shower. The sets were terrific, including Gianni's gorgeously tacky home. It's refreshing to see a film from this era with such open views on sexuality that still doesn't stoop to the level of pornography (and no i am not condoning roofies).

I guess it all comes back to the psychiatrist. He presents us with the story of the "great deluge" to illustrate his point. He asks Noah's wife about the voyage, but all she can recall is the "awful stench." The dove regretfully recalls how Noah in his haste included only males for certain "unfortunate" species. The giraffe tells the psychiatrist that all he got out of the trip was a "very stiff neck." Of course, we can wonder about the sanity of the good psychiatrist, since he was asking these questions of pictoral representations of said creatures (and the answers were being produced within his own head). Still, his point was that "the truth is always something else." His version of the night in question is, I suppose, the one that makes the most sense. Gianni takes Tina back to his place to build up some trust and show he can control himself. After talking for a while, he starts to take her home. Unfortunately, they're locked inside his gated property because the doorman was up on the terrace spying on them. Tina tries to climb the fence but falls, tearing her dress and scratching Gianni's forehead in the process. They have a good laugh and finish the night off with a drive to the sea so they can take in the sunrise. No sex, no booze, no lesbianism. I prefer to think that "the truth was something else" entirely. I think the doorman seems an honest fellow.

George A. Romero's Diary of the Dead (2008)

Well, George finally did it. He killed the zombie movie. Where do I want to be when the end begins? As fucking far away from the fucking pricks that occupy this picture as possible. The "living dead" genre has always been one of my favorites. Starting with Romero's own masterpiece Night of the Living Dead and continuing through his underrated Land of the Dead. I love the original Dawn of the Dead as well as the remake. I've got a major hard on for Fulci's unofficial sequel to Dawn of the Dead called Zombi 2, a film that features the first ever zombie versus shark battle. Perhaps the genre should have died with Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright's lovingly hilarious send up Shaun of the Dead.



Romero can't help but instill a little social commentary into his "dead" films. In his latest, Diary of the Dead, he takes on the government controlled media as seen through the eyes of the myspace generation. Let it be known that this is NOT a sequel to his original series. This is a reboot of the franchise to present day. The premise is simple. Several college friends are in the Pennsylvanian woods filming a mummy movie when the zombie outbreak begins. The director, Jason Creed (played by Joshua Close) decides to keep filming. He and his crew travel through Pennsylvania with separate agendas. Creed want's to document the events for his new film "the death of death" also known as "the death of dead movies". His crew, including Jason's soon to be ex-girlfriend Debra (Michelle Morgan) just want to get home to their families. It's a clever premise to be sure. Unfortunately, the recent Cloverfield used a similar gimmick to a much more horrifying effect. Sure, the idea for Diary was conceived well before Cloverfield. For that, I suppose we can give Romero some credit. Unfortunately, and it truly pains me to say this, the execution of this thing is abysmal.

Before I get into what doesn't work, I'll mention the things I liked about the picture. The deaf scythe wielding Amish guy. After hurling some dynamite at a few lumbering dead, he provides the film's best moment when, without missing a beat, he etches on a hand held chalkboard: "hello, my name is Samuel." Romero also takes a dig at the recent trend toward fast zombies by having the director chide his mummy actor for running after a victim telling him that "corpses don't run because if they did their ankles would break. dumbass." Ok, that's what I liked.

What didn't I like? First of all, the narration by Debra NEEDS to go. I cringed everytime it appeared, not because it was terrible (although it often was), but because it was completely uneccesary. She actually tells us that she went back and added "music to scare you". George should know better. Normally, voice overs tend to ruin poignant or tense moments. Thankfully, this picture didn't have any of those. I don't want to disparage the actors too much because I'm not sure if they were awful or if it was just the characters as written. Jason Creed was a douchebag. After running over a few zombies on a country road, Mary (the winnebago driver) is asked by Jason "how did that make you feel?" I'm guessing not so good since she was blowing out her own brains in the very next scene. Creed is the Uwe Boll of documentary filmmaking. He's an ego-driven maniac that would sacrifice his actors, his friends, his GIRLFRIEND for the perfect shot. Contrast him with the cameraman from Cloverfield, Hud. Hud was a good guy. Personable, funny, and terrified of the events surrounding him. His humor was more of a fear mechanism, so it didn't really feel too contrived. He kept the camera rolling, but he didn't keep it glued to his eyes at all times. When he ran, the camera would drop to his side. If a friend was in peril he would do everything in his power to save them, even if it meant leaving the camera behind (thankfully, it never came to that). Like I said, Jason of Diary is just a douche. The camera never leaves his eye. In an abandoned, zombie infested hospital, he let's his friends go on without him because he needs to stay behind to charge his camera. Whereas Hud was immersed within the action of the film, Jason attempts to distance himself. He tries to direct events that are beyond his, or anyone's, control. It was an appallingly poor decision by Romero to center the film around this asshole.

The rest of the cast didn't fare much better. The actors were all playing a type rather than an actual character. These included the drunken professor, the ditzy blonde, the jesus freak, the deaf amish guy, and the rich prick. It's hard to suspend your disbelief and be taken in by a movie like this when not one of the characters hits a believable note at any point during the film. Hell, even the cameos were wasted. Apparently, Romero got Stephen King and Simon Pegg to read some newscasts, but I didn't notice (and I knew about it going in). The best cameo of the picture was a one minute scene with the guy from the Dawn of the Dead remake that had his legs broken and was dragged through the sewars as he shot back at the pursuing zombies. In Diary he had a couple of unmemorable lines while sitting on the back of a truck. Good stuff.

This should never have received a theatrical release. It's barely good enough to qualify as a sci-fi original (I would, however, hesitate before labeling this piece of shit "the most dangerous night of TV"). There were a few good kills (bottle of acid to the head, scythe through two heads at once, shotgun blast to the head of a zombie woman hanging by her hair), but they were all marred by miserable CGI. Romero needs to hook up with Tom Savini again, because if this is where we're heading with our zombie effects than all I can say is No-Fucking-Thanks.

The biggest offense of Romero's latest is that it bored me. I checked the time twice during this thing. I was constantly shifting in my seat. If you ever see me watching a movie with my hand on the side of my head, that's a sure sign that the movie sucks. It's my tell. The people behind me were obnoxiously loud and, you know what? I didn't even mind. I strained to hear what they were saying because it was far more interesting than what was on the screen.

I guess this is Romero's return to guerrilla filmmaking. He shot it with minimal budget, no cast, and a really shitty script. I wanted to say "no script", but I think it would have been better without one. Maybe the characters would have seemed human, the interactions real if they had been allowed to ad lib just a little. Word on the street is that Romero's already working on a sequel to this one called Diary of the Dead 2: You Guys Will See Anything As Long As My Name Is Attached To It, Won't You? Stupid Shits. Ha Ha Ha Ha. Cha Ching Cha Ching!

Of course I'm kidding about the last line. I don't for a second believe that Romero is motivated by money. I think, in the wake of Katrina and Iraq, the intent here was to rip the government's response to disasters, whether natural or man-made. He wanted to tear into the selective reporting of various media outlets. Unfortunately for Romero, for a film's message to resonate, the film, itself, has to be something you can tolerate sitting through. I barely made it through Diary of the Dead.

I dearly love George Romero pictures, which is why it pains me to say I loathed this one. He's the man behind several of my favorite films; Creepshow, the Dead quadrilogy, and the Crazies. I even love Monkey Shines. I just think he needs to step away from the zombies for a while. As soon as I'm finished sitting through the soon to be released, direct to video, remake of Day of the Dead I'm going to take an extended hiatus from the genre. It saddens me that Romero may have ruined it for me. I always assumed I'd be blaming Michael Bay for that.

Blade Runner review

I've reviewed Blade Runner's Supposedly Final Cut over at a web site called Open Letters. I guess they mostly review books and stuff if you're into that kind of thing. I'm just kidding. It's a great site, brimming with talent. Check it out!