The Love Guru-hollyhood news

The Love Guru

By Roger Ebert

What is it with Mike Myers and penis jokes? Having created a classic, funny scene with his not-quite-visible penis sketch in the first “Austin Powers” movie, he now assembles, in “The Love Guru,” as many more penis jokes as he can think of, none of them funny, except for one based on an off-screen “thump.” He supplements this subject with countless other awful moments involving defecation and the deafening passing of gas. Oh, and elephant sex.

The plot involves an American child who is raised in an Indian ashram (never mind why) and becomes the childhood friend of Deepak Chopra. Both come to America, where Chopra becomes a celebrity, but Guru Pitka (Myers) seems doomed to secondary status. That’s until Jane Bullard (Jessica Alba), owner of the Toronto Maple Leafs, hires him to reconcile her star player, Darren Roanoke (Romany Malco), with his estranged wife, Prudence (Meagan Good). Just at the time of the Stanley Cup playoffs, Prudence has left her husband for the arms and other attributes of star Los Angeles player Jacques “Le Coq” Grande (Justin Timberlake), said to have the largest whatjamacallit in existence.

And what don’t they call it in “The Love Guru”? The movie not only violates the Law of Funny Names (which are usually not funny), but rips it from the Little Movie Glossary and tramples it into the ice. Yes, many scenes are filmed at the Stanley Cup finals, where we see much of their dwarf coach (Verne Troyer), also the butt of size jokes (you will remember him as Mini-Me in the “Powers” films). There is also a running gag involving the play-by-play commentators, and occasional flashbacks to the guru’s childhood in India, where he studied under Guru Tugginmypudha (Ben Kingsley). One of the guru’s martial arts involves fencing with urine-soaked mops. Uh, huh.

Myers, a Canadian, incorporates some Canadian in-jokes; the team owner’s name, Bullard, evokes the Ballard family of Maple Leaf fame. At the center of all of this is Guru Pitka, desperately trying to get himself on the Oprah program and finding acronyms in some of the most unlikely words. He has a strange manner of delivering punchlines directly into the camera and then laughing at them — usually, I must report, alone.

Myers has made some funny movies, but this film could have been written on toilet walls by callow adolescents. Every reference to a human sex organ or process of defecation is not automatically funny simply because it is naughty, but Myers seems to labor under that delusion. He acts as if he’s getting away with something, but in fact all he’s getting away with is selling tickets to a dreary experience.

There’s a moment of invention near the beginning of the film (his flying cushion has a back-up beeper), and then it’s all into the dump. Even his fellow actors seem to realize no one is laughing. That’s impossible, because they can’t hear the audience, but it looks uncannily like they can, and don’t.

Hollyhood news-Kung Fu Panda

Kung Fu Panda

In Kung Fu Panda, Jack Black is the voice of Po, a clown-eyed, sheepishly neurotic, roly-poly panda of no visible athletic ability who trains to become a lightning-limbed martial-arts master. Black gets off a few good lines (''Oooo, my tenders!'' he exclaims when Po is bashed in the crotch), but he doesn't make crazy full use of his wild side — the eager, riffing glee he has shown in films like School of Rock. Instead, Black taps a quality that isn't so visible when he pops his eyes with mock ferocity on screen. He gives Po a slightly abashed suburban-couch-potato sweetness.

Po, who works in his father's noodle shop, dreams of kung fu glory, and it certainly seems preposterous that this lazy, soft-bodied bear would attain it. But after causing an accidental fireworks display in the Jade Palace, where the Furious Five — Tigress (Angelina Jolie), Crane (David Cross), Monkey (Jackie Chan), Viper (Lucy Liu), and Mantis (Seth Rogen) — are showing off their twirly, whip-cracking moves, Po is decreed to be the Dragon Warrior, and he starts to train with the Furious Five. That's when Kung Fu Panda ignites.

As Master Shifu, the group's Fu Manchu-mustached raccoon of a karate-kid guru, Dustin Hoffman, his voice a-growl, has a wonderful persnickety surliness. It's as if Yoda were being played by Burt Lancaster. Po's total lack of skill is quite funny — he's such a flabby compendium of wrong moves that even his screwups have a bass-ackwards logic that is nearly balletic. But then Master Shifu figures out how to teach this hopeless case the art of kung fu. He uses a bowl of dumplings, which Po is so eager to eat that he'll scramble anywhere, at any speed, to get at them. Kung Fu Panda is light and goofy, yet the fight scenes, which are the heart of the film, are lickety-split mad fun. Just about all animated movies teach you to Believe in Yourself (the rat who finds the courage to cook! The ogre who learns to love!), but the image of a face-stuffing panda-turned-yowling Bruce Lee dervish is as unlikely, and touching, an advertisement for that message as we've seen in quite some time.

Movie Review: Machete news

Movie Review: Machete (2010)

MPAA Rating: R

Starring: Danny Trejo, Robert De Niro, Jessica Alba, Michelle Rodriguez, Lindsay Lohan

IMDB Link: Machete

Movie Trailer: Trailer

The character of Machete has been swirling around in the warped mind of Robert Rodriguez for at least nine years (he made his cinematic debut in Spy Kids, of all things!). Seemingly just an interesting bit character, things changed after monstrous buzz was received from the fake movie trailer that was patched into Grindhouse. People wanted to see the machete wielding vigilante enact justice. And so three years later, those cries have been answered and the tough Mexican ex-Federale returns to the cinema, not as another addon, but in his own full featured movie, fittingly titled Machete.

It’s perfect timing too — the campy 70’s-80’s vibe appears to be making a comeback (Piranah 3D) and Machete fits right in with its over-the-top comic violence, sexy girls (many of whom are unnecessarily naked) and intentionally flaky characterizations and clichés.

Senator John McLaughlin (Robert De Niro) is a sleazebag politician running for re-election on an anti-immigration platform. To go along with McLaughlin’s stance that Mexicans are no better than parasites, campaign manager Booth (Jeff Fahey) figures a choreographed assassination (another way of saying fake) attempt on McLaughlin by a filthy immigrant will ensure a swift victory. No doubt he is right, but his mistake lies in the hiring of, now day laborer, Machete (Danny Trejo) to do the dirty deed.

Playing the role he was born to play, Trejo brings the angry, tattoo muscled, blade swathing juice as he seeks revenge against both the drug kingpin responsible for killing his family (Steven Seagal) and those politico bastards who set him up as their patsy. In absolute comic fashion he slices, stabs and eviscerates his way through hordes of bad guys with the help of two lovely brunettes — taco truck vendor Luz (Michelle Rodriguez) and ex- I.C.E. officer Sartana (Jessica Alba). The bloodshed is unequalled and brutal, but with a name like Machete, should we, could we expect anything less?

Rodriguez and first time helmer Ethan Maniquis keep the action and absurdity of Machete cranked full throttle for most of the film never miring it down with the now-hot-topic of illegal immigration — except to poke fun at those at the extreme ends of the debate. They certainly get the most out of their actors too — De Niro and Seagal are clearly up to the task at making their roles as incredulous as possible and for not taking anything seriously (Hell, De Niro hunts Mexicans with a rifle as sport!). As mentioned before Danny Trejo has been taking on these types of roles, albeit in a much smaller fashion, his entire career so he nails it (he’s been in nearly 200 movies playing this kind of badass — who says you can’t make a living off of being typecast?!?).

As for the ladies rounding out the cast, they all look damn good — wouldn’t it be a wonder if they all could act as well? The stretch is Lohan, who takes on the role of a drugged up slut, who, with her mother, does web porn. Okay, so it isn’t so much of a stretch nowadays for her — I hope her stint in the clink gets her freckled ass back on the right track.

Machete is everything it purported itself to be — a nonsensical, campy B-flick filled to the brim with blood and breasts. It has its flaws but they don’t impair it from being the perfect smash-bang movie experience to end the summer with. Sissies, however, need not apply.

Movie Review: Dear Zachary news

Movie Review: Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father (2008)

MPAA Rating: NR

Starring: Kurt Kuenne, David Bagby, Kathleen Bagby, Andrew Bagby

IMDB Link: Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father

Movie Trailer: Trailer

I don’t cry at movies. I mean, I’m not some unemotional or unattached person — many movies have touched me profoundly. But I have trained myself not to cry at movies. Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father made it real tough.

For anyone who has read or heard anything about this film, you’ve probably heard that it is emotionally devastating. After I posted on my Facebook account that I had just seen the film, people began responding almost immediately about how the movie is so incredibly sad. Likewise, if you search Tumblr blogs with the keywords “Dear Zachary,” 95% of the posts contain the sentence “this is the saddest movie I have ever seen” or something to the same effect. Documentary or not, however, being incredibly emotional doesn’t make you a good film, and in fact, being too emotional can often be a detractor. Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father, though, is a beautiful and surprising story every minute of the way.

First off, I would feel incredibly cheap if I gave away any plot details, because I feel it is necessary to experience it as the filmmaker presents it — for this movie is ostensibly a journey for both the filmmaker and the viewer. Using interviews, still images and found footage (via old home videos) Kurt Kuenne set out to make a film in hopes of a specific discovery. As the months and years went by while documenting, the film began to change into something else, and instead of continuing on his explicit path, Kuenne decided to change his direction and make something entirely different. As a viewer, you don’t anticipate these changes, but you feel them as the filmmaking itself adapts along to the beats of the story. I’ve always felt that the best documentaries usually contained the best editing and Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father runs quickly and cleverly throughout. Kuenne smartly edits the film to call back to previous images and sound bites, giving dramatically different messages depending at which point of the story you are watching.

The film’s biggest weakness may also be its biggest strength. Because of the extremely personal subject matter, Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father is the antithesis of biased filmmaking. This was often upsetting to me because we’re never allowed to have the whole story and Kuenne never masks his hatred or joy for specific people. As any good documentarian does, he tries to let everyone involved tell their side of the story, but of course when parties in the negative light refuse to comment or take part in the film, they are even more vilified by the filmmaker. I have to commend Kuenne, though, because he never holds back what he is feeling, which is strange (and dangerous) to see in a non-fiction film. At certain times during his narration, Kuenne actually becomes choked up — moments that are incredibly real, but equally manipulative. I always try to separate myself from a film and realize when it is unfairly toying with my emotional sensibilities, but there is no possible way to blame Kuenne. Perhaps it’s poor filmmaking, and perhaps he injects too much into a story that is already so sad without any additional manipulation, but it is the only real way this story could be told. If an outsider set out to tell this story, it could have only reached a certain level of emotion and storytelling.

Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father does some really nice things to tell the story it wants to tell, but it’s not a film that should be put on a pedestal as wonderful filmmaking. Still, its roller-coaster and unflinchingly devastating story is something that should be seen by everyone. It will never be forgotten by anyone who sees it.

Movie Review: The Wild Blue news

Movie Review: The Wild Blue Yonder (2005)

MPAA Rating: PG

Starring: Brad Dourif, Donald Williams, Ellen Baker, Shannon Lucid

IMDB Link: The Wild Blue Yonder

Movie Trailer: Trailer

I just watched Werner Herzog’s 2005 science fiction fantasy film The Wild Blue Yonder, and am left in that rare position of not having much to say of the film that could really change the opinion of a viewer, pro or con, toward it. This is not because it is good nor bad, simply because it is one of those works of art that is not even on a good/bad scale. It is beyond such reckoning, a purely aural and visual experience for most of its 81 minutes, and thus has an effect similar to the phantasmagoric end of Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Yet, as appealing as that is, the film then has intercut documentary footage of a 1989 space shuttle mission, interviews with NASA scientists who speak all sorts of gobbledygook, and snippets of actor Brad Dourif as a psychotic alien (or kook who believes he’s an alien) spouting even more nonsensical stuff about his being part of an earth invasion force from a planet in the Andromeda galaxy, whose planet froze over and became uninhabitable. That planet is improbably called The Wild Blue Yonder. Dourif, despite Herzog’s praise of him on the DVD audio film commentary, as one of the best actors around, is nothing of the sort. He scowls, jibber-jabbers, and just plays a standard mentally ill person throughout most of the film — often ranting about how aliens all suck; which is wholly disconnected with the collaged NASA footage of the space mission, the interviews, and other footage of a musician, Henry Kaiser, swimming under Antarctic ice. It’s simply not good acting. Yet, somehow, Herzog makes the most of it, and its utter insanity lends the whole film an air of interest, not unlike Orson Welles’ great pseudo-documentary F For Fake (especially in the digressions on Roswell and scenes of mathematicians arguing on chalkboards), and also a bit similar to his earlier film on the First Gulf War, Lessons Of Darkness.

The narrative, however slight, is this: The alien (Dourif) comes to earth some decades ago, in a Third Wave of colonizers, before the supposed 1947 Roswell UFO crash, because his home planet entered an Ice Age. Upon landing, they attempted to establish their own version of Washington, D.C. out in the California desert, thus justifying Dourif’s rants out in a ghost town. Their failure leads him to the conclusion that all aliens suck — a point he repeatedly hammers home. It also lets him go on about how mankind has ecologically ravaged the earth. He speaks of his CIA involvement, and more found footage, of the Jovian Galileo mission, allows him to hypothesize on the Roswell matter. Then he claims that the aliens brought with them microbial diseases. NASA launches a space mission to find inhabitable planets, but none are found in the Milky Way, until, via silly mathematics, a gateway to the Andromeda galaxy is found — one even the aliens did not know of. As the earth is getting more and more uninhabitable, humans, who shortcutted their way to the alien Andromedan world, decide to explore it. Cue the Antarctic ice footage, meant to portray the frozen atmosphere and liquid helium ocean of The Wild Blue Yonder. While intensely beautiful and hypnotically mixed with the oral sounds of a bunch of Sardinian singers and an African singer, the film becomes really indescribable — but not in that good nor bad way. You just have to watch, whether you like or dislike it. When it’s done, we see that the humans have returned to earth, aged only 15 years (comparisons of the archival footage vs. that Herzog shot for interviews) while the earth went through 820 years, and reverted to a wild state. Humans left the earth, and now treat it as a planetary game preserve. In the audio commentary, Herzog reveals that shots of the high green plateau that ends the film were from Venezuela, part of the leftover footage from his earlier film The White Diamond.

The DVD is put out by Subversive Cinema, the film is shown in a 1.85:1 aspect ratio, and it features a theatrical trailer and trio of fairly interesting making of featurettes. But the centerpiece special feature is the audio commentary by Herzog, Dourif, and Norman Hill, a longtime Herzog collaborator. Herzog, as always, has brilliant moments, as both a describer and raconteur of things. His best moment on the commentary comes at his most bleakest, for, as a man with boundless vision in his art form, he unreservedly and pessimistically believes that mankind will never travel to the stars, even though we theoretically know it can be done — we simply lack the technology and financial resources to do it at this stage of our development. Dourif is very hit and miss, and often rambles on about environmentalism. When asked direct questions by Hill, who serves as the moderator, it’s apparent that he knew very little of the final film’s aims, as he was only paid to read his scripted parts in the desert, and nothing more.

Yet, despite its manifest flaws — such as editing out a good ten minutes more of the space shuttle footage, and numerous oddities — such as Herzog keeping in NASA astronomer Martin Lo’s sneeze an hour and four minutes into the film, The Wild Blue Yonder is one of those film’s it is difficult to stop watching once it starts. It’s like a hallucinogenic Imax nature film. It is innovative even when it is plodding, and addictive even when it is annoying. The film seems almost a requiem for the earth or humanity, even though it ends on an upbeat note. Loneliness dominates the film, and the seminal score by Dutch cellist Ernst Reijsiger and the wailing of Senegalese singer Mola Sylla only adds to that feeling. While I disagree with some critics’ claims that this is a tone poem or cinepoem, there is no doubting the film is rife with poesy in many forms. It’s just that there is too much oddity and narration to qualify wholly on that score; especially with the recurring shopping mall motif that pops up in Dourif’s rants throughout the film — be it in the California desert or under the Antarctic sea ice. And these sorts of rants are just a bit too obvious and politicized for a Herzog film. Usually the director’s rapier is sharpest when most tangential politically.

Of course, the way that the film works best, and most logically, can explain the mixed and matched footage (which, with new context — the inner tale of the film, shows how malleable the seemingly mundane space shuttle images can be), the odd, dreamy music and Tarkovskyan images, is that the Dourif character really is as mentally ill as he seems to the objective viewer. That he is a nut — likely an environmental nut — who has spun this wild tale, and is somehow projecting his dream madness to the viewer. After all, Herzog always has been obsessed with ecstatic truths, rather than the mundaner real world things. And the very fact that the ‘science’ of the film is often utter nonsense, and that the chronology of the film is bizarrely scattershot, makes the Dourif is a nut interpretation all the more plausible; as he seems a hairy descendant of the old 1950s UFO Contactee mythos, casting himself as an embittered and unlistened to potential savior of the earth,

The Wild Blue Yonder will doubtlessly bore many people, and it will turn off still others for a plenum of possible reasons, and in no way, shape, nor form, is this a masterpiece on par with the best in Herzog’s oeuvre. But, even if one views it in the worst way, and calls it a daring failure, it is a film worth watching again. One day soon, I will.

Movie Review: Survival of the Dead news

Movie Review: Survival of the Dead (2009)

MPAA Rating: R

Starring: Oshri Cohen, Itay Tiran, Michael Moshonov, Yoav Donat

IMDB Link: Lebanon

Movie Trailer: Trailer

George A. Romero not only created the modern zombie horror genre, but he is still considered by many as the master of genre — even with mostly unsuccessful films like Land of the Dead and Diary of the Dead. Personally, I can’t call myself a huge Romero fan, but I am a horror film connoisseur and consider Dawn of the Dead one of my favorite horror films of all time. Still, even though I had very little expectation for Survival of the Dead, I came out completely unsatisfied.

The major problems I have with the film are the zombies and their lack of any horror. Although I wouldn’t call any of Romero’s zombie films “scary” he completely pin-pointed what makes zombies frightening: There are millions of them and they will never stop until they eat you. Sure, they might move slowly and are (for the most part) incredibly stupid; there is still nowhere you can run. I understand Romero’s damnation of the new-age running zombie, but without showing us more than ten zombies in a single shot and basing your film on the premise of having your characters going to an island with a small zombie population, there isn’t much left in the area of thrills. To sum this argument up, one of the lead characters literally rolls his eyes as a zombie stumbles toward him, as if to say “these zombies are more annoying than life-threatening.” When your characters are doing this, the audience will inevitably feel the same way.

What some of Romero’s previous films lack in overall horror, they are almost always saved by really sharp satire, whether racism, consumerism or a reliance on technology. The social commentary of Survival of the Dead is so slim, it doesn’t have enough relevance to save the film. The film focuses on two warring (and strangely Irish) families who live on an island off the coast of Delaware. The hatred of the patriarchs of these families boils down to one common disagreement: Whether or not we should kill the zombies, even if they are the ones that we love. This could be an interesting question with good arguments being made on both sides, but it was never clear outside of the obvious “zombies eat people” vs. “but I love my daughter, I don’t want to kill her” paradigms. And, this argument doesn’t have any of the bite or pure humor that can be found in any of the previous films.

One slightly redeeming quality of the film is the step forward in Romero’s zombie mythology that comes toward the end. I won’t spoil anything with specifics, but it mirrors Romero’s previous progression of zombies becoming more organized and smarter. What zombies are able to learn potentially provides a cap on the complete Romero zombie story, but probably not without at least another film. It’s exciting that we can see a complete progression in these films, but I don’t know if I would care to sit through another film without knowing it is the final chapter.

Survival of the Dead is a film that I think anyone can stay away from. The die-hard fans are going to be unsatisfied by the lack of horror and commentary. New horror fans stumbling on to this film are going to be even more unsatisfied by the deplorable CGI effects. I can’t call Survival of the Dead exactly painful to watch (Romero is, after all, a competent filmmaker), but there is really nothing to latch onto to call this a positive or worthwhile entry in the Romero canon.

Movie Review: Lebanon news

Movie Review: Lebanon (2009)

MPAA Rating: R

Starring: Oshri Cohen, Itay Tiran, Michael Moshonov, Yoav Donat

IMDB Link: Lebanon

Movie Trailer: Trailer

“Man is steel. The tank is only iron.” On July 12, 2006, conflict began between Israel and Lebanon. It began when Hezbollah soldiers fired rockets into Israel and blew up two armored Humvees patrolling the Israeli side of the border. Three soldiers died. Two other soldiers were taken by Hezbollah into Lebanon. Israel responded and for 34 days they carried out air strikes and rolled into Lebanon with tanks and foot soldiers. The writer/director of Lebanon, Samuel Maoz, was himself a gunner in one of those tanks, so this is a sort-of autobiography of his experiences. You can feel that placing this story on paper and on celluloid was a form therapy for Samuel. He places us, as the audience, in the dark, dank, cold, putrid, unwelcoming pit of a monster that he knows all too well. And because the camera never leaves the inside of that tank, save for two small book-ending scenes, he shows us what it felt like to be sequestered in those claustrophobic spaces only understanding the outside world what we see through the gunner’s scope.

A single tank is sent into a small town that has already been bombed by the Israeli Air Force. Inside the tank are four young men: Herzel (Oshri Cohen), the loader; Assi (Itay Tiran), the commander; Yigal (Michael Moshonov), the driver; and Shmuel (Yoav Donat), the gunner. For all of them, this is their first taste of war. The first day of fighting pushes all four of these men past anything they were trained for. For who can be trained to fire on unarmed civilians, to plow their way through streets that just hours before teemed with life, to see the blood and havoc that war creates and not let it change and effect their humanity?

The other film that is constantly being brought up when one speaks of Lebanon is Waltz with Bashir, the foreign picture Oscar contender of 2008. Both of them deal with the same war and the same psychological trauma it inflicted on its soldiers, but in wholly different ways. This film showed me an entirely new angle to war, one I had not seen in any war film. The closest comparison that comes to mind is the German film Das Boot but even in that film the sense of confinement doesn’t feel this suffocating. It is impressive that I felt the same heart-pounding, dizzying feeling I got from the first twenty minutes of Saving Private Ryan from sections of this film and, as I’ve said, the camera never leaves the inside of the tank.

When the gunner is looking out his scope, we get to see some sunshine. We get to see a family torn apart. We get to see a soldier bleed out. We get to see inside a travel agency and have a weird feeling in the pits of our stomachs as the cross-hairs of the cannon rests upon a picture of the Twin Towers. Most times with any slight movement the turret moans and creaks in protest, but as with any gimmick there are other times when this is cheated, when empathy is being attempted and the whirrs and clanks would get in the way, so they are left out all together. Apart from this story necessary hitch, the rest of the sound design makes it feel like the world is about to come crushing down around us. The only real gripe I have is that the score is sometimes misaligned and did not add to what I was watching. However, that is a small quibble for a film I honestly and wholeheartedly respect.

The first thing that struck me as I was watching Lebanon was how confident the film making felt. For only being the second film that Samuel Maoz has ever directed and first one written, you can feel how much he knew this story and exactly how best to portray it. He was able to take what could have been a gimmick and made it impressive. If I venture to read more into it than may be there, it showed how myopic the “war machine” is. The young men, specifically the gunner, can’t really see most of the destruction that their shells are creating. One of God’s little blessings. Just as the people who sit in plush chairs and push pens across paper to declare war cannot see the destruction they cause. Like I said, that may not be what Samuel was going for, but it feels apropos.

Movie Review: Piranha 3D

Movie Review: Piranha 3D (2010)

MPAA Rating: R

Starring: Elisabeth Shue, Ving Rhames, Steven R. McQueen, Jerry O'Connell, Jessica Szohr

IMDB Link: Piranha 3D

Movie Trailer: Trailer

Spring break: Sun, water, ear-splitting hip hop music, booze-swilling horny guys, brazen bikini babes — and millions of razor-sharp teeth. Welcome to Lake Victoria, the fictional locale of Piranha 3D, the remake of Joe Dante’s 1978 movie of the same name. The film’s “coed rowdy-party” setting isn’t one you usually see in the work of Alexandre Aja, the man behind the superb, genre-pushing French slasher, Haute Tension. Since coming stateside, however, the director has faltered, delivering the less-than-stellar Mirrors and The Hills Have Eyes. The good news is his work on Piranha 3D demonstrates that Aja is on his game again.

Piranha 3D is an odd pastiche: Part scary, part funny, part “Girls Gone Wild” video, part grindhouse, part remake, and part horror parody that pays homage to, and pokes fun at, two of genre’s classics — Jaws and Dead Alive. References to the latter should come as no surprise to anyone, given Peter Jackson co-wrote the script, along with Josh Stolberg. The film is schlocky, tacky, and gory in the extreme; so know ahead of time, I’m not talking about a tasteful cinematic masterpiece here. What I am talking about is an energetic, water park-like thrill ride that is as big on laughs as it is on blood and shredded bodies.

It’s March in Lake Victoria and Sherriff Julie Forester (Elisabeth Shue) and Deputy Fallon (Ving Rhames) have their hands full patrolling the 5,000 plus college kids who have descended on the town to celebrate in licentious abandon their week-long school recess, that annual rite-of passage known as spring break. An underwater earthquake has opened a passage in the lake’s floor leading to an underground body of water, unleashing a horde of predatory prehistoric piranha into the lake.

Forester’s teenage son Jake (Steven R. McQueen) has been assigned babysitting duty. But Jake would much rather play location scout to the sex-obsessed “Wild Girls Online” video promoter, Derrick Jones (played with uncharacteristic gusto by Jerry O’Connell). After bribing his younger brother and sister to keep quiet and then abandoning them to their own devices, Jake and girlfriend Kelly (Jessica Szohr) join Jones aboard his boat to help in the filming of his new girl-on-girl video.

Once they discover the existence of the piranha, Forester and Fallon order the coeds out of the lake, but to no avail. Within minutes, the piranha attack. This part of the story gives “splat pack” director Aja the opportunity to do what he loves best — showcase his talents conjuring blood, gore, and violence. Not surprisingly, his mean-spirited mass feeding frenzy scenes get a lot of screen time. Aja’s camera relishes the enactment of the massacre; he gives us shot after bloody shot of the ravenous creatures rending the flesh off the bones of their human prey. The little guys don’t leave behind much meat.

Given the slight material of Piranha 3D, the ensemble cast performs admirably. As Forester, Shue is tough and sexy, as only a “woman doing a man’s job” can be. Though a little on the cutesy side, McQueen (the grandson of the iconic Steve) is earnest in his role as Jake. Like his grandfather, he has definite screen appeal. He and co-star Szorh have great chemistry too. Jerry O’Connell steals every scene he’s in playing the sleazy Jones, a character “loosely” inspired by Joe Francis. In fact, O’Connell features in the film’s funniest, albeit most sick-minded, scene. I won’t say exactly what it is, but it involves a severed body part and a piranha with discriminating taste.

Unfortunately, Ving Rhames’ Deputy Fallon is off screen more than on. However, he does get to play hero in a scene reminiscent of arguably the funniest moment in Dead Alive. Wielding a boat motor propeller like a chainsaw, Fallon dispatches the piranha, Benihana-style.

There’s nothing unpredictable or unexpected about Piranha 3D. So, I’m not really giving anything away when I say, yes, the humans do triumph over the piranha. Between Fallon’s unusual filleting technique and Jake’s clever use of a cell phone, the terrifying razor-toothed predators are reduced to a benign combo-platter of sushi and fried fish.

Movie Review:Public Enemy news

Movie Review: Mesrine: Public Enemy (2008)

MPAA Rating: R

Starring: Vincent Cassel, Ludivine Sagnier, Mathieu Amalric, Samuel Le Bihan

IMDB Link: Mesrine: Public Enemy #1

Movie Trailer: Trailer

So I assume that you’ve all seen Mesrine: Killer Instinct and are now anxious to see the conclusion to the series. Luckily, you are not to be disappointed as Mesrine: Public Enemy #1 delivers the same captivating storytelling, magnetic performances, and ace dialog that its predecessor sported. It does, however, lose a bit of focus with its sometimes all-too-frantic pacing which comes from Jean-François Richet’s and Abdel Raouf Dafri (who both return to direct and write, respectively) attempt to up the ante, which is understandable, considering that in the second installment of the “Mesrine” series, Jacques is hunted down seemingly everywhere. But although Mesrine: Public Enemy #1 does lose some sense of direction, it makes up for it in much more in-depth, entertaining, and frequent action sequences, which make the film all the more fun — in a mindless aspect.

Interestingly enough, Mesrine: Public Enemy #1 begins in a manner similar to that of the first movie. Once again, the film introduces the same caption: “No film can recreate the complexity of human life. But each with its point of view.”, and once again, the first scene of the film projects Mesrine’s death. This time, we see how his body is quickly whisked away by police officials, who struggle in fighting off photo-happy journalists. Of course, the entire shooting is explained in detail during the film’s last scenes, however, the introductory scenes are interesting for one reason: They show just how much media attention was given to Mesrine, who is often referred to as “the honest bandit.”

Very early in the film, we flash-back to Mesrine, who is once again played by the same excellent Vincent Cassel (who seems to be packing a few extra pounds and a new haircut) as he rests in court. As Mesrine, Cassel once again captures the man in such impeccable perfection that even through the most outrageous moments, the character seems organic — which is always a plus in cinema. But as Mesrine sits in court, Cassel hides the faces of rage and the threatening physical approach of it for a bit of comedy. In the courtroom he first smart-mouths the judges with his cases against the judicial system (which he believes to be imperfect) and quickly changes course when he slyly pulls out a gun and flails it around, suddenly becoming an orchestrator of terror and panic. He holds up a judge and makes his daring escape, while pledging that no court-room or prison can ever hold him down and, as we come to learn, he certainly kept his promise, escaping several maximum security prisons, with each one having a new and daring plan of escape.

But Mesrine doesn’t feel pleased with just being another bank robber anymore, no, he wants to become a revolutionary and this is where the problem starts for Mesrine: Public Enemy #1. Mesrine, who plans to use his media coverage for change, starts writing daring letters to newspapers but once he receives negative feedback from a radical by the name of Jacques Dallier (Alain Fromager), he takes matters much more personally. He kidnaps Dallier and traps him in a darkened cave, which is only illuminated by very ritual-esque candles. He then begins to torture Dallier, who debunks Mesrine’s stance as a revolutionary. In addition, Dallier also calls Mesrine a fraud and a liar and claims that he isn’t as honest as other media sources make him out to be. Sadly, this is in essence, where the entire pseudo-revolutionary portion of Mesrine’s life is dedicated to. Beyond this and one other pivotal scene in which Mesrine claims that politics are corrupt and that he robs banks not to run the country dry, but just for money for his own personal uses, the film never really explains in much detail this vital portion of the Mesrine mythology. In addition, the second act moves at a marginally slower pace.

Mesrine: Public Enemy #1 has its unexpected moments. In example, Dafri chooses to explore what Mesrine lost when entering the life of crime. In one scene, he is seen at his father’s side, who is dying in a hospital bed. Besides putting away the hatred that he harbored in the first installment of the film, Mesrine, who is disguised, cries and proclaims to his father that he was a bad son and a bad father and that it was all his fault. This is a very emotional scene and remains surprising because Mesrine has continuously shown himself to be absolutely emotionless throughout his long career, but during his father’s final moments, he tries to make amends. This entire sequence is possibly one of the most memorable in either installment.

New additions to the cast include François Besse (Matthieu Amalric — he played the villain in Quantum of Solace), Mesrine’s new sidekick and fellow prison escapist, who remains an interesting contrast to the main man. Unlike Mesrine, Besse is reserved and doesn’t care for his theatrics involving the mass media. However, Besse does respect Mesrine for his sharp-thinking, his undeniable courage, and his audacity — all of which are put to play in a scene in which the duo rob a casino while disguised as inspectors. Another fine new performer is the beautiful Ludivine Sagnier who plays Sylvie, who is not only Mesrine’s last lover, but also his most romantic.

However, I would have liked more of Olivier Gourmet who plays Commissioner Broussard. When he is first introduced in the film’s first scenes, I was expecting a parallel to Christian Bale’s Melvin Purvis in Public Enemies, the uncompromising upholder of the law who proves to be a challenge for Mesrine, who is the film’s anti-hero. However, Broussard is only interspersed within the film and his longest screen-time is in the film’s final moments, during which he masterminds the end of Mesrine’s reign of terror.

Mesrine: Public Enemy #1 marks an unforgettable conclusion to the “Mesrine” series, however, unlike Mesrine: Killer Instinct it does have its share of problems which may or may not detract audience members from the film’s true potential. That being said, this second installment is a rare second trip that not only packs more rushes of adrenaline it also adds moments of suspense and even sadness. And for this it is to be commended.

Movie Review:-American

Movie Review: The American (2010)

MPAA Rating: R

Starring: George Clooney, Violante Placido, Paolo Bonacelli, Irina Björklund

IMDB Link: The American

Movie Trailer: Trailer

George Clooney is maybe the most interesting movie star working today. Unlike many of the top-Hollywood talent, Clooney has a complete hand in all of his projects and seems to stay away from the obvious A-list blockbusters. His newest film, The American (directed by Control filmmaker Anton Corbijn) has certainly been marketed as a ‘George Clooney’ film — the trailer doesn’t give much indication of what the movie is about except that Clooney is an American in Europe and he can do pull-ups really well. Honestly, I didn’t see much in the trailer that compelled me to see this movie, but as a Clooney fan, I decided to go to the cinema anyway.

Actually, the film involves Clooney as Jack, a lonely hit-man looking for one last job, but unlike the normal hit-man-last-job re-treads, Clooney doesn’t even need to pull the trigger. Instead, he is hired to build a gun to certain specifications and deliver it to another hit-man (or, hit-woman, I should say) to be used on an unknown target. Personally, I have always enjoyed George Clooney and trust him when he is in a film. His character is actually quite similar to the established roles Clooney has played in recent years — he is a loner who is very good at what he does, but desperately needs a break from his routine. My favorite lead performance of 2009 (from Up in the Air) is nearly replicated here in an entirely different environment. Like in that movie, Clooney doesn’t do anything spectacular to really grab an audience, but he feels so effortlessly comfortable in his character’s skin that I can’t help but respect it.

Truthfully, there isn’t too much to say about this movie — like the trailer, the film doesn’t have a lot going on in terms of action or plot. It is, though, a very good story film — we spend a lot of solid quiet moments with Clooney, and while he doesn’t say much, we learn a lot about his character through his actions and untold desires. I doubt anyone would see the trailer and expect a lot of action, but if one does, they will probably be disappointed. I wouldn’t go so far as to say the film is boring, but it is quiet and still, with many scenes that don’t do anything to push the straight-line plot forward. This does help the few action set pieces stand out, even though nothing spectacular happens in this department. The climax of the film does deliver some nice suspense, answering questions to the mysterious plot points established throughout the film. For those who enjoy beautiful cinematography, however, you will leave impressed. Corbijn’s camera uses the beautiful Italian country-side to compliment the film’s beautiful stars.

In all, The American is a film that I fear most cinema-goers will probably not like after viewing, but I think it is worthy of a chance, especially for those who enjoy small suspense films and, in particular, George Clooney. Although it doesn’t do anything that a normal hit-man-last-job movie does to bowl over its audience and it doesn’t offer up too much in terms of a complicated plot or a lot to think about, The American works for me. It’s a hard film to overtly recommend, but if you don’t expect too much out of it, you’ll find something to enjoy.

Movie Review-for Armageddon

Movie Review: Waiting for Armageddon (2009)

MPAA Rating: NR

Starring: N/A

IMDB Link: Waiting for Armageddon

Movie Trailer: Trailer

Religion and disease — two of the most destructive aspects of modern society. Both have the tendency to spread like wildfire and both can alter a person’s physical and mental well-being. However, disease can be cured or prevented — religion cannot; because before human beings learned how to think both rationally and peacefully, we learned how to tap into the forbidden fountains of “spirituality,” whose springs promise fruition in life and salvation in the cold grasps of death. In essence, most people are too weak to notice all the facts of human existence — loss, hardships, even war — and thus substitute their fear of what is real, for something that might be real, and that of course breeds more . . . war. But the reason that I say “might” instead of “isn’t,” is because I simply doubt. I don’t know — there might be a God — however, the conspiracy theories which claim Hitler is still ruling in a reanimated brain might be real, but I don’t dedicate my entire life to that belief.

Directors David Heilbroner and Franco Sacchi, instead of tackling the issue of religion, encourage it in their Waiting for Armageddon, a film which practically presents itself as a forum for idiots. It simply follows America’s evangelical community, which is convinced that the end of times is prophesied in the Bible, and that that end is approaching . . . quickly.

The entire film just irked me — from beginning to end. Admittedly, when I first approached the film, I did not expect in-depth explanations, but I did hunger for some background information on the topic. What Waiting for Armageddon serves instead is a bunch of regular religious folk who go on about how the world is going to end in a beautifully orchestrated battle between good and evil.

One believer says “When God comes back, he’ll be back with wrath, it won’t be a happy time to see God . . .” That begs the question “how come all of these people are so excited?”

A mother proclaims that her children won’t graduate high-school, won’t have children, and won’t get married. Here’s a zinger — the children are actually happy about this. In their eyes, they can die in their teens — as long as they see God.
Another follower says that you must be Christian in order for your life to be meaningful.

A pastor says that the final battle (according to the Bible, Jesus will come down and smite Satan and his minions — along with anyone who doesn’t place faith in him) would be “fun to watch” because he wouldn’t be involved (he is referring to the Rapture, which states that all followers of Christ — dead or alive — will be lifted into the clouds and safe from the turbulent period of time that follows).

Another believer claims that Islam is a “world-dominating” religion. This is just plain ironic because throughout the film, all of these faithfuls talk about is how if you don’t join Christianity — you will be killed.

There is not one opposing view throughout the entire film. Everything is sugar-coated to the extreme. Nothing is challenged and no argument is refuted. Waiting for Armageddon is a seventy-four minute long documentary which features nothing but fundamentalists preaching about how the Rapture is going to be a great time for them and how paradise is within their grasp.

I learned absolutely nothing from the film, which is in essence, an infomercial for Christianity. Actually, let me restate that because I did learn one thing: America is the most fucking backwards country in the entire world.

Movie Review: Resident Evil-2010

Movie Review: Resident Evil: Afterlife

Directed By: Paul W.S. Anderson

MPAA Rating: R

Starring: Milla Jovovich, Ali Larter, Kim Coates, Shawn Roberts, Sergio Peris-Mencheta

IMDB Link: Resident Evil: Afterlife

Movie Trailer: Trailer

If there’s anyone deserving of the electric chair, it’s Paul W.S. Anderson. Now I say this for a couple of reasons — most of which stem from a recent interview with the popular site, Rotten Tomatoes, however, a lot of my hatred also derives from his body of work which includes Soldier (bad), AVP: Alien vs. Predator (worse), the Death Race remake (. . . no comment), and of course, Resident Evil (oh sweet Jesus. . .) which has since spawned three sequels, of which include this weekend’s Resident Evil: Afterlife, which definitely sports the highest production values of the series.

But before I touch upon the atrocity that is Resident Evil: Afterlife, let me bring up exactly why I found the interview to be so infuriating.

First of all, Anderson compares himself to James Cameron and the Resident Evil series to The Terminator and its sequels. That right there is blasphemy to me — not because I necessarily like Cameron, in fact, I’m being to despise him — but as an avid fan of Terminator, I just can’t stomach the comparison. It makes me that sick. Secondly, he calls Resident Evil: Afterlife “an epic of the undead genre.” That right there deserves one thousand lashes.

But onto the actual film; it’s loud, it’s obnoxious, it’s bloody, it’s poorly written, it’s ineptly acted, it’s horribly edited, and it features a distorted modern rock album — it’s basically the definition of a video game adaptation. And one of my biggest gripes with this installment is that it liberally borrows from its predecessors.

The plot, which rehashes a lot of material from its predecessors, is as follows: In attempt to find the last survivors of a zombie apocalypse, which has been started by the menacing Umbrella Corporation, Alice (Milla Jovovich), the super powered heroine of the first films, travels to Alaska, where radio broadcasts are claiming it is “infection-free” and abundant in supplies and protection. However, when she arrives, all she sees are abandoned aircraft — an ominous sign that is all a lie.

But Alice does eventually run into one person, Claire Redfield (Ali Larter), who is one of Alice’s few friends, and who was planning a trip to the proclaimed utopia. But things aren’t celebratory for the long lost friends as Claire attacks Alice (which is later explained to be because of a mind-controlling spider-shaped contraption implanted on Claire’s chest). Within minutes, however, Claire and Alice are friends again and on their way to Los Angeles, on a trek to find more survivors. This is just one of the many abrupt transitions that Resident Evil: Afterlife suffers from.

Once they arrive, they spot some fellow humans — on top of a rooftop, just above a sea of zombified monstrosities. Two of these survivors include Bennett (Kim Coates), a former film producer who has trouble adjusting to his new life and Luther West (Boris Kodjoe), the lone black dude who happens to lead the team (just because every zombie movie needs one of these). Well, it turns out that the safe haven wasn’t in Alaska but instead on a ship floating just outside Los Angeles and its up to the team to get there in one piece, however, things aren’t always what they seem.

The first scene of the film pretty much sums up its quality. Resident Evil: Afterlife starts with a shot of a Japanese girl, the first victim of the zombie outbreak, as she quietly stands in the center of the sidewalk. Now of course, this scene has been spoiled in the trailers, and even if it wasn’t, it’s pretty obvious that she’s going to attack someone, but no, Anderson spends about three minutes just circling around the girl in a pathetic attempt to build tension — it fails, just like most of the film, which quickly collapses from there.

On top of the token black guy, every film starring the undead needs an over-the-top villain, and in the case of the Resident Evil series, it’s Albert Wesker (now played by Shawn Roberts), the powerful leader of Umbrella. First and for most, anyone who wears sunglasses in an underground facility is automatically a douche, but on top of that Roberts employs this monotone action-villain accent that is just plain cheesy. Plus he smirks as if to alert the audience that Wesker is indeed one bad motherfucker.

But it’s not just Roberts; Wentworth Miller is also guilty of trying too hard to emulate Stallion. Ironically, the Prison Break star is introduced as a prisoner. Miller plays Chris Redfield, a soldier who was mistaken for a guard by newly freed prisoners and trapped in a cell as a joke. The survivors don’t believe him, of course, but when his promises of a way out of the prison that they’ve holed themselves in, becomes more valuable, they decide to cut him loose.

Through the predictable slow-motion editing and the undeniably bad performances from all of the film’s leads, this includes Jovovich, there is one interesting scene. Once you get through the painfully bad shootouts involving the plethora of pathetically crafted zombies that have broke into the prison, Alice and Claire are faced with the executioner — a vital enemy in the Resident Evil mythology, whose defining characteristics include being huge, wearing a potato sack as a mask, and carrying a big-ass hammer/axe hybrid. This scene is interesting not because it has awesome fight sequences, but instead because it has Ali Larter and Milla Jovovich (both of which are extremely attractive) getting wet n’ wild in a prison bathroom (after the executioner breaks the shower heads). There’s also an awesome decapitation for those who aren’t interested in Larter and Jovovich — which probably means you’re either gay or a woman.

But I must end this review with my last gripe about the film. In the interview, Anderson says, “I really believe that, as filmmakers, we have a duty, which is, if we’re asking people to pay a premium price for a 3D ticket, we have a duty to deliver a premium product. And I feel that the premium product is delivered by really shooting a proper 3D movie.” So why is it that I felt so ripped off? Just putting everything bad about the film aside and just focusing on the extra technology, there is nothing new and/or entertaining about it — it’s just a gimmick and ultimately a waste of money for any potential audience member.

Resident Evil: Afterlife is one of those zombie films that give George A. Romero a confidence boost and make Haitian sorcerers keel over.