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(09/26/02 12:36am)
Certain movies are so bad that you wouldn't even watch them with your worst enemy's eyes. Directors who churn-out crap like this deserve several swift kicks straight to the junk for having subjected millions of innocent viewers to their festering turd passed off as cinema. "Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever" is one such film, and its director, Thai tyro Wych Kaosayanada (dubbed Kaos, pronounced chaos. Cool, huh?), best buy a cup.\nAntonio Banderas stars as FBI agent Jeremiah Ecks, who, after the supposed loss of his wife, becomes somehow disavowed from the agency. Viewers are led through Ecks' psyche by way of his having constant three-day stubble, smoking cigarettes in slow-mo and hanging out in poorly lit bars. Man, this cat is pissed off. Lucy Liu's near-mute former NSA agent isn't much better. She somehow raised the scratch needed to buy a Batcave-esque hideout in the middle of a train yard, she makes frequent trips to the mall in between shooting and stabbing grunts and she's awfully pissed off about her hubby and baby being blown to bits in a grass hut. \nFirst, the two square off against one another, then they're confused as to who the other is, then they're cool. All the while, audience members are bored out of their skulls, and lots of extras are mowed down in hails of gunfire during the poorly executed action scenes that link the film together.\nThe only redeeming factors of "Ballistic" are Sever's massive arsenal, an overly-stylized sequence in which Sever clips a random SWAT team member with a rocket (spurring his fall from a building) and a double police-car flip evoking memories of "Smokey and the Bandit."\nEverything else about this movie bites the big one -- the most likable character is an ethnic stereotype and an action flick archetype to boot. Banderas and Liu have never been less captivating on screen. The terrible score ranges between third-rate techno and Celine Dion rip-offs, and the film boasts the worst death scene for a villain ever.\n"Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever" will die a deserved death in the discount bins of shoddy video stores -- a fate that's all-too-fair for a flick that seems it was made for the USA Network by a chimp back in 1987.
(09/19/02 4:00am)
\"Stealing Harvard\" is a flick best suited to video. My buddies and I laughed fairly consistently throughout the film, but we were in the minority. I can't speak for them, but I think we would have dug the movie a whole lot more with a case of beer, i.e. at home.\nJason Lee headlines the flick as John Plummer, an all-around nice guy with a big problem. John and his fiancé, Elaine (Leslie Mann of "Big Daddy"), have been saving to purchase a house -- "the cornerstone of marital bliss." He, by working for Elaine's overprotective father (Dennis Farina) at his hokey medical supply store, Homespital, and she by operating a small-time gift basket business out of their apartment. \nOnce John and Elaine have saved the $30,000 needed to put a down payment on their dream home, his sexually indiscriminate sister, Patty (Megan Mullally, much funnier here than on the quintessentially lame "Will and Grace"), cashes in on a promise he made many years ago in passing. Her daughter, Noreen (an underused and an entirely too old Tammy Blanchard), has gotten into Harvard, and they expect John to foot her first year's tuition -- approximately $30,000. Convenient, huh? \nRather than disappoint his fiancé, John does what any level-headed guy would -- he turns to a life of crime to pay his niece's tuition. Aided by his dunder-headed best friend Duff (Tom Green), the two plot a series of ill-conceived robberies. Hijinks and hilarity ensue as the bumbling burglars are pursued by a chrome-domed, colonic-crazy copper named Detective Charles (John C. McGinley, best known as one of the Bob's from "Office Space").\n"Stealing Harvard" is elevated above many comedies of its ilk through director/Kids in the Hall vet Bruce McCulloch's perverse sense of humor and ironic timing, no doubt honed during his years with the Canadian troupe. Also, Green gives his best screen performance to date as dim-bulb Duff, and Lee is a likable leading man. Smaller, peripheral characters also add laughs to the proceedings -- frequent Wes Anderson collaborator Seymour Cassel does funny work as Duff's foul-mouthed uncle, and "Freaks and Geeks" alum Martin Starr does wonders in the small role of a dorkishly trigger-happy convenience store clerk.\n"Stealing Harvard" is entertaining from opening to closing credits, but on leaving the theater it will evaporate from most viewers' brains. As such it gets a passing grade, but nothing above a B -.
(09/19/02 12:56am)
\"Stealing Harvard\" is a flick best suited to video. My buddies and I laughed fairly consistently throughout the film, but we were in the minority. I can't speak for them, but I think we would have dug the movie a whole lot more with a case of beer, i.e. at home.\nJason Lee headlines the flick as John Plummer, an all-around nice guy with a big problem. John and his fiancé, Elaine (Leslie Mann of "Big Daddy"), have been saving to purchase a house -- "the cornerstone of marital bliss." He, by working for Elaine's overprotective father (Dennis Farina) at his hokey medical supply store, Homespital, and she by operating a small-time gift basket business out of their apartment. \nOnce John and Elaine have saved the $30,000 needed to put a down payment on their dream home, his sexually indiscriminate sister, Patty (Megan Mullally, much funnier here than on the quintessentially lame "Will and Grace"), cashes in on a promise he made many years ago in passing. Her daughter, Noreen (an underused and an entirely too old Tammy Blanchard), has gotten into Harvard, and they expect John to foot her first year's tuition -- approximately $30,000. Convenient, huh? \nRather than disappoint his fiancé, John does what any level-headed guy would -- he turns to a life of crime to pay his niece's tuition. Aided by his dunder-headed best friend Duff (Tom Green), the two plot a series of ill-conceived robberies. Hijinks and hilarity ensue as the bumbling burglars are pursued by a chrome-domed, colonic-crazy copper named Detective Charles (John C. McGinley, best known as one of the Bob's from "Office Space").\n"Stealing Harvard" is elevated above many comedies of its ilk through director/Kids in the Hall vet Bruce McCulloch's perverse sense of humor and ironic timing, no doubt honed during his years with the Canadian troupe. Also, Green gives his best screen performance to date as dim-bulb Duff, and Lee is a likable leading man. Smaller, peripheral characters also add laughs to the proceedings -- frequent Wes Anderson collaborator Seymour Cassel does funny work as Duff's foul-mouthed uncle, and "Freaks and Geeks" alum Martin Starr does wonders in the small role of a dorkishly trigger-happy convenience store clerk.\n"Stealing Harvard" is entertaining from opening to closing credits, but on leaving the theater it will evaporate from most viewers' brains. As such it gets a passing grade, but nothing above a B -.
(09/12/02 4:00am)
Remember back in the '80s and early '90s when filmmakers rarely shied away from sex and violence? I do. But now, studio suits and hacks are more concerned with the bottom line as opposed to the quality of the flicks they're producing, spurring tepid, sanitized cinematic works to appease the masses in our post-Sept. 11 climate. Gutless filmmaking is currently in vogue, and I for one am dissatisfied.\nNow don't misunderstand me, there's plenty of flicks out there that work perfectly well with a G, PG or even PG-13 rating. Inspirational, slice-of-life dramas such as "Field of Dreams" (one of my schmaltzy PG favorites) work well within these constraints -- I don't really care to see Ray (Kevin "What the hell happened to my career?" Costner) and Anni Kinsella (Amy Madigan) get freaky in a corn field. And more so, Shoeless Joe Jackson (Ray Liotta) needn't tattoo Salinger-esque author Terence Mann (James Earl Jones) with a bat for sounding ominously like Darth Vader. The flick's called "Field of Dreams," not "Field of Screams," and for a very specific reason.\nThe things that really piss me off are movies that, for all practical purposes, should be rated R but sidestep that rating in hopes of churning out higher profits. This is most relevant within the realm of action cinema. In the '80s, action flicks such as "Commando" and "RoboCop" heaped on the sex and violence in order to appease male audiences. Now we've got clean-cut PG-13 action-adventure pics such as "Mission Impossible II" (which, admittedly, I liked, but not nearly as much as John Woo's edgier stuff) and the upcoming shoot-'em-up "The Transporter." The men behind these films, Woo and Luc Besson, were titans of expertly crafted bloodbaths back when they made their seminal works, "The Killer" and "La Femme Nikita," in the late '80s and in their own countries (China and France, respectively).\nSure, these films were made for niche audiences, but what's wrong with that? Studios might not make as much money on flicks like these, but they're bound to be infinitely more entertaining than a pseudo-action movie like "XXX." What we're witnessing is the conglomerization of American cinema -- filmmaking by way of McDonald's, with billions served.\nAnother genre that has suffered under the ridiculous constraints of the MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America) and crass commercialization is the comedy, especially the teen comedy. Flicks like "Animal House" and "Caddyshack" wore dick and fart jokes as badges of honor (and they were actually funny!) and weren't afraid of flashing breasts for comedic or somewhat salacious effect. And, remarkably, it wasn't demeaning, just laughable.\nWithin the past few years, only one teen-oriented comedy has truly broken new ground, that being the highly underrated "Road Trip." Sure, breasts are flashed in abundance, but these conventions are ultimately turned on their head and revealed to be nothing more than delusions of the overzealous male libido. What's more offensive? Young adults engaging in consensual sex or someone taking a penis in the ear á la "Scary Movie?"\nSadly, many youths are left with crappy teen pics such as "Ten Things I Hate About You" and "She's All That." Well, nudity or no nudity, I've found more than 10 things I hate about this junk, and these flicks are far from all that. It's as though Freddie Prinze Jr. and MPAA President Jack Valenti are trying to soil everything that's good and pure about cinema from the third ring of hell.\nWe as filmgoers should put a stop to this half-assed school of filmmaking. Action movies should be bloody -- it comes with the turf. Teen and collegiate comedies should, when appropriate, depict kids smoking bud, drinking brew and engaging in sexual acts, because, well, that's what most kids are into.\nHonesty is the key to solid filmmaking, and that doesn't necessarily entail an onslaught of boobs and blood. But let's face it folks: we don't live in a PG-13 world. Issues of violence and sexuality pervade our society, and without third-person introspection, little will change for the better.\nSadly, films are rarely made in this manner any more. Therefore, we should embrace independent films, foreign films and studio films made by directors with enough clout to retain the final cut because this is quickly becoming our only outlet for original, realistic filmmaking with a spine.
(09/12/02 1:07am)
Remember back in the '80s and early '90s when filmmakers rarely shied away from sex and violence? I do. But now, studio suits and hacks are more concerned with the bottom line as opposed to the quality of the flicks they're producing, spurring tepid, sanitized cinematic works to appease the masses in our post-Sept. 11 climate. Gutless filmmaking is currently in vogue, and I for one am dissatisfied.\nNow don't misunderstand me, there's plenty of flicks out there that work perfectly well with a G, PG or even PG-13 rating. Inspirational, slice-of-life dramas such as "Field of Dreams" (one of my schmaltzy PG favorites) work well within these constraints -- I don't really care to see Ray (Kevin "What the hell happened to my career?" Costner) and Anni Kinsella (Amy Madigan) get freaky in a corn field. And more so, Shoeless Joe Jackson (Ray Liotta) needn't tattoo Salinger-esque author Terence Mann (James Earl Jones) with a bat for sounding ominously like Darth Vader. The flick's called "Field of Dreams," not "Field of Screams," and for a very specific reason.\nThe things that really piss me off are movies that, for all practical purposes, should be rated R but sidestep that rating in hopes of churning out higher profits. This is most relevant within the realm of action cinema. In the '80s, action flicks such as "Commando" and "RoboCop" heaped on the sex and violence in order to appease male audiences. Now we've got clean-cut PG-13 action-adventure pics such as "Mission Impossible II" (which, admittedly, I liked, but not nearly as much as John Woo's edgier stuff) and the upcoming shoot-'em-up "The Transporter." The men behind these films, Woo and Luc Besson, were titans of expertly crafted bloodbaths back when they made their seminal works, "The Killer" and "La Femme Nikita," in the late '80s and in their own countries (China and France, respectively).\nSure, these films were made for niche audiences, but what's wrong with that? Studios might not make as much money on flicks like these, but they're bound to be infinitely more entertaining than a pseudo-action movie like "XXX." What we're witnessing is the conglomerization of American cinema -- filmmaking by way of McDonald's, with billions served.\nAnother genre that has suffered under the ridiculous constraints of the MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America) and crass commercialization is the comedy, especially the teen comedy. Flicks like "Animal House" and "Caddyshack" wore dick and fart jokes as badges of honor (and they were actually funny!) and weren't afraid of flashing breasts for comedic or somewhat salacious effect. And, remarkably, it wasn't demeaning, just laughable.\nWithin the past few years, only one teen-oriented comedy has truly broken new ground, that being the highly underrated "Road Trip." Sure, breasts are flashed in abundance, but these conventions are ultimately turned on their head and revealed to be nothing more than delusions of the overzealous male libido. What's more offensive? Young adults engaging in consensual sex or someone taking a penis in the ear á la "Scary Movie?"\nSadly, many youths are left with crappy teen pics such as "Ten Things I Hate About You" and "She's All That." Well, nudity or no nudity, I've found more than 10 things I hate about this junk, and these flicks are far from all that. It's as though Freddie Prinze Jr. and MPAA President Jack Valenti are trying to soil everything that's good and pure about cinema from the third ring of hell.\nWe as filmgoers should put a stop to this half-assed school of filmmaking. Action movies should be bloody -- it comes with the turf. Teen and collegiate comedies should, when appropriate, depict kids smoking bud, drinking brew and engaging in sexual acts, because, well, that's what most kids are into.\nHonesty is the key to solid filmmaking, and that doesn't necessarily entail an onslaught of boobs and blood. But let's face it folks: we don't live in a PG-13 world. Issues of violence and sexuality pervade our society, and without third-person introspection, little will change for the better.\nSadly, films are rarely made in this manner any more. Therefore, we should embrace independent films, foreign films and studio films made by directors with enough clout to retain the final cut because this is quickly becoming our only outlet for original, realistic filmmaking with a spine.
(08/29/02 4:00am)
Another summer film season has come and gone, and as per usual, filmgoers suffered through the onslaught of derivative crap left in its wake. \nOf course, not everything sucked -- films better suited to a fall release ("About a Boy," "Insomnia" and "Road to Perdition"), art films ("Y Tu Mamá También" and "Full Frontal") and the occasional summer blockbuster with half a brain ("Spider-Man," "Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones," "The Bourne Identity," "Austin Powers in Goldmember" and "Signs") saved the Summer of 2002 from complete and utter cinematic failure.\nMany films bursting with talent and promise wound-up blowing the big one. \nRemember when the latest Adam Sandler flick was an event looked forward to by any self-respecting college kid, and not just meat-headed frat rats? That was before he churned-out saccharine bile like "Mr. Deeds," a movie that made even "Little Nicky" look respectable. Sandler veteran and all-around kick-ass character actor Steve Buscemi was underused, Sandler himself was an annoying pansy, Winona Ryder's push-up bra did better work than the klepto actress and the film's only redeeming moments came courtesy of tennis badboy John McEnroe's all-too-brief cameo and John Turturro's sleazy butler character. \nAnd what about "XXX," the mega-budget action extravaganza that was poised to make Vin Diesel a bonafide star worthy of his inflated $20 million salary? Diesel, the folically challenged muscle mass who made quite an impression in last summer's guilty pleasure "The Fast and the Furious," stars as Xander Cage, a clichéd X-Gamer who's anti-smoking and selling-out, and pro booty and bungie. Diesel's Cage has one-liners that would make Arnie and Sly blush with embarrassment i.e. "Welcome to the Xander Zone!" The only thing Diesel's "done for his country" is star in this crappy schlockfest that manages to make even Samuel L. Jackson look bad, but hey, he was "born for this shit." Ian Fleming is currently rolling in his grave.\nOther summer movies that sucked include the ineptly made gangland drama "Deuces Wild," the Diane Lane/Richard Gere adultery epic "Unfaithful" and the strictly commercial and at 88 minutes all-too-long "MIB II." (Any live-action flick in which a talking pug and a bunch of worm puppets upstage human actors usually means trouble.) And even the Spielberg/Cruise collaboration "Minority Report" underperformed in the midst of its hype. (We understand, Stevie. You want to be Kubrick, but it ain't gonna happen.)\nThese movies sucked, but I'm sure there was worse crap out there. Flicks such as "Like Mike," "The Country Bears," "The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course" and the big, bad flaming bag of dog poo otherwise known "Scooby-Doo" must have dumbed-down an already stupid generation of children weaned off Barney. And while I'm at, Stuart Little belongs in a mouse trap! "Juwanna Mann" must have done for the WNBA what "The Crying Game" did for international intrigue, Chris Rock and Anthony Hopkins put the 'bad' in "Bad Company" and not even Mary, mother of Jesus, could coerce me into seeing "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" -- I lack the anatomy essential to enjoying this dreck.\nWith fall comes a whole slew of new movies, most of which are prestige pics vying for Oscar glory. Productions overseen by such skillful directors such as Curtis Hanson ("8 Mile"), Paul Thomas Anderson ("Punchdrunk Love"), Steven Soderbergh ("Solaris"), Martin Scorsese ("Gangs of New York"), Spike Jonze ("Adaptation"), Spike Lee ("The 25th Hour"), Peter Jackson ("The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers") and yes, even Steven Spielberg ("Catch Me If You Can") will be hitting the multi-plex this fall. And justly, I'll be covering these works and other facets within the realm of cinema this fall with my bi-weekly column, "Tenacious A." This is a no-b.s. look into what film is really all about.\nI never thought I'd say this, but I'm looking forward to the start of fall, even if it entails classes. At least this summer of moronic pandering to the masses cinema will have died, and with it the chrome-domed machismo of "XXX," the titular cross-dressing b-baller of "Juwanna Mann," the comic ineptitude of Sandler's "Mr. Deeds" and every celluloid talking animal will be banished into the third ring of hell. Finally, it's safe to return to the movies.
(08/29/02 2:15am)
Another summer film season has come and gone, and as per usual, filmgoers suffered through the onslaught of derivative crap left in its wake. \nOf course, not everything sucked -- films better suited to a fall release ("About a Boy," "Insomnia" and "Road to Perdition"), art films ("Y Tu Mamá También" and "Full Frontal") and the occasional summer blockbuster with half a brain ("Spider-Man," "Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones," "The Bourne Identity," "Austin Powers in Goldmember" and "Signs") saved the Summer of 2002 from complete and utter cinematic failure.\nMany films bursting with talent and promise wound-up blowing the big one. \nRemember when the latest Adam Sandler flick was an event looked forward to by any self-respecting college kid, and not just meat-headed frat rats? That was before he churned-out saccharine bile like "Mr. Deeds," a movie that made even "Little Nicky" look respectable. Sandler veteran and all-around kick-ass character actor Steve Buscemi was underused, Sandler himself was an annoying pansy, Winona Ryder's push-up bra did better work than the klepto actress and the film's only redeeming moments came courtesy of tennis badboy John McEnroe's all-too-brief cameo and John Turturro's sleazy butler character. \nAnd what about "XXX," the mega-budget action extravaganza that was poised to make Vin Diesel a bonafide star worthy of his inflated $20 million salary? Diesel, the folically challenged muscle mass who made quite an impression in last summer's guilty pleasure "The Fast and the Furious," stars as Xander Cage, a clichéd X-Gamer who's anti-smoking and selling-out, and pro booty and bungie. Diesel's Cage has one-liners that would make Arnie and Sly blush with embarrassment i.e. "Welcome to the Xander Zone!" The only thing Diesel's "done for his country" is star in this crappy schlockfest that manages to make even Samuel L. Jackson look bad, but hey, he was "born for this shit." Ian Fleming is currently rolling in his grave.\nOther summer movies that sucked include the ineptly made gangland drama "Deuces Wild," the Diane Lane/Richard Gere adultery epic "Unfaithful" and the strictly commercial and at 88 minutes all-too-long "MIB II." (Any live-action flick in which a talking pug and a bunch of worm puppets upstage human actors usually means trouble.) And even the Spielberg/Cruise collaboration "Minority Report" underperformed in the midst of its hype. (We understand, Stevie. You want to be Kubrick, but it ain't gonna happen.)\nThese movies sucked, but I'm sure there was worse crap out there. Flicks such as "Like Mike," "The Country Bears," "The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course" and the big, bad flaming bag of dog poo otherwise known "Scooby-Doo" must have dumbed-down an already stupid generation of children weaned off Barney. And while I'm at, Stuart Little belongs in a mouse trap! "Juwanna Mann" must have done for the WNBA what "The Crying Game" did for international intrigue, Chris Rock and Anthony Hopkins put the 'bad' in "Bad Company" and not even Mary, mother of Jesus, could coerce me into seeing "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" -- I lack the anatomy essential to enjoying this dreck.\nWith fall comes a whole slew of new movies, most of which are prestige pics vying for Oscar glory. Productions overseen by such skillful directors such as Curtis Hanson ("8 Mile"), Paul Thomas Anderson ("Punchdrunk Love"), Steven Soderbergh ("Solaris"), Martin Scorsese ("Gangs of New York"), Spike Jonze ("Adaptation"), Spike Lee ("The 25th Hour"), Peter Jackson ("The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers") and yes, even Steven Spielberg ("Catch Me If You Can") will be hitting the multi-plex this fall. And justly, I'll be covering these works and other facets within the realm of cinema this fall with my bi-weekly column, "Tenacious A." This is a no-b.s. look into what film is really all about.\nI never thought I'd say this, but I'm looking forward to the start of fall, even if it entails classes. At least this summer of moronic pandering to the masses cinema will have died, and with it the chrome-domed machismo of "XXX," the titular cross-dressing b-baller of "Juwanna Mann," the comic ineptitude of Sandler's "Mr. Deeds" and every celluloid talking animal will be banished into the third ring of hell. Finally, it's safe to return to the movies.
(08/01/02 5:17am)
Acclaimed writer/director Todd Solondz's latest film, "Storytelling," met mixed reviews upon its release this past winter, and justifiably so. While Solondz retains the glibness and sick, sardonic wit of his previous films, "Welcome to the Dollhouse" and "Happiness," "Storytelling" ultimately lacks bite, and in some ways, serves as a cowardly apology for his earlier works.
(08/01/02 4:00am)
Acclaimed writer/director Todd Solondz's latest film, "Storytelling," met mixed reviews upon its release this past winter, and justifiably so. While Solondz retains the glibness and sick, sardonic wit of his previous films, "Welcome to the Dollhouse" and "Happiness," "Storytelling" ultimately lacks bite, and in some ways, serves as a cowardly apology for his earlier works.
(07/25/02 8:23pm)
Games in the "Final Fantasy" or "Zelda" series were the basis for which THQ created its flagship PS2 role-playing title, "Summoner." \nThe game picks up where the others left off and expands upon their concepts and game play through the vast technological advances provided by the PS2's immensely powerful hardware. \n"Summoner" has a cinematic quality to it. The game is chock full of dialogue, beautifully rendered graphics and story clips. There are even intricately produced credits that roll before game play starts. These qualities suit the game seeing as how it, like numerous others of the genre, is essentially a narrative the player controls.\nThe game's story focuses on a young farmer named Joseph. But Joseph is no ordinary farmer; he possesses the immense powers of a summoner, an individual with the uncanny ability to cast spells. Joseph, alongside fellow warriors Rosalind, Flece and Jekhar, must battle with sword and spell the demonic forces that are inundating their homes, murdering their friends and destroying their lands. In a dire mission to annihilate their most capable foes, the heroes must embark on a mythic journey to various villages waging grand-scale warfare and dissipating the monstrosities. \nThe game play is a tad too linear for my personal tastes. It would have been nice to have more control over the heroes' actions, especially during battle, and what control is available is hard to master and overly complicated. Also, the narrative serves the game so well that in many respects it's also very inhibiting. It's as though the narrative carries the player instead of the player carrying the narrative. No matter the action you take, the outcome seems to remain the same, and that's incredibly frustrating. \n"Summoner" is an involving strategy game that will keep gamers occupied for hours on end, and fans of the genre will most certainly be happy with the game. Despite strong graphics and an elaborate story line, the game was inevitably a disappointment. But it's definitely worth at least a rental and possibly purchase because of a side-splittingly funny RPG spoof contained within the disc. "Summoner" is essentially nothing more than a flashy testimonial to the power contained within the PS2 console and a hint of the greatness looming in future titles.
(07/25/02 8:23pm)
Freddy Got Fingered" takes the gross-out genre to entirely new and immensely perverse levels. Despite this daring-do, the flick is still a mixed bag. Yet the mediocrity only resonates so far, and what remains is a ballsy and frequently hilarious, albeit strange, comedy.\nTom Green headlines the film as Gord, a 28-year-old skate punk who resides in his folks' basement and harbors dreams of becoming a professional animator. He inevitably makes the pilgrimage to Los Angeles to pitch his ideas to animation executive David Davidson (Anthony Michael Hall). Davidson quickly dismisses Gord's ideas as moronic and half-cocked, sending Gord home with his tail tucked between his legs and back to the confines of the basement.\nThe aforementioned plot points are the more traditional and mainstream elements of the film. Once Gord arrives home, all hell breaks loose, and the film, which was already bizarre, sinks farther into absurdity. Gord and his abusive father (Rip Torn) enter into mass hysterics and small-scale warfare, complete with obscenity-laced taunts and mock sexual advances. Gord hooks up with a wheelchair-bound nurse/rocket scientist named Betty (Marisa Coughlan) with a predilection toward oral sex. And bodily fluids ranging from blood to semen splatter across the celluloid-like confetti at a birthday party.\nThis is a comedy unlike any I have ever seen. The flick is violent, chock full of graphic images from a heinous broken leg to an inundation of cruel blows sustained to a young boy's face. Also, mildly disturbing images of bestiality intermittently find their way into the film. \nThe film's supporting cast is rounded out by a relative who's who in the realms of gross-out and slapstick comedy: Julie Haggerty ("Airplane"), Harland Williams ("There's Something About Mary") and Eddie Kaye Thomas of "American Pie" fame, the latter portraying the sodomized titular character. Cameos by Green's better half Drew Barrymore and an anonymous, pelvic-thrusting NBA superstar also add to the proceedings.\nFans of Green's unique brand of comedy will enjoy the perverse laughs during "Freddy Got Fingered," but those who dislike or are only lukewarm on Green and his shenanigans should avoid the film at all costs.
(07/25/02 8:23pm)
American Outlaws" is the latest in a string of teen-oriented westerns ala "Young Guns," fitting the formula to a tee. Here we have a bunch of vapid, yet aesthetically pleasing young stars in chaps, mounted on their trusty steeds. All this while spouting off poorly scribed dialogues of pride and love. \nRelatively unknown Colin Farrell headlines the film as legendary outlaw Jesse James. Farrell, who made such a triumphant debut in last year's far more capable "Tigerland," still registers well, but to a far more bland and muted degree. \n"American Outlaws" chronicles the misadventures of Jesse and his cocksure gang of desperadoes, which includes his older brother Frank (Gabriel Macht) and the obnoxious Cole Younger (Scott Caan). \nThese good ol' boys gravitate toward pilfering railroad loot from various different banks in hopes of deterring the suits from eyeing their fertile Missouri farmlands for future ventures. This band of hillbilly hooligan's form such a thorn in the sides of the railroad execs that they call upon the services of dastardly enforcer Colonel Pinkerton (former 1980s James Bond star Timothy Dalton) to vanquish the turds from this mortal coil. \nDalton walks away with the flick on the sheer unadulterated campiness. He adopts the thick Scottish brogue of a more reputable Bond actor to a hilarious effect.\nOther actors rounding out the cast include Kathy Bates as the James' boys doting, Bible-thumping mother and the striking Ali Larter as the bimbo on Jesse's arm. Both actresses bring a high cheese factor to the flick.\nLes Mayfield, the cinematic luminary behind "Encino Man," directed this misfire in a rather haphazard fashion. The action sequences are poorly edited and the film's dramatic moments are laughable at best. Perhaps Mayfield should hold off on his goal of resurrecting the great American western, and focus on more attainable tasks such as reigniting Pauly Shore's career.
(07/25/02 8:23pm)
John Carpenter is bar-none one of the best genre directors working in Hollywood. He practically invented the horror film.\nThe pedigree of Carpenter's work makes his latest opus, "Ghosts of Mars" slightly disappointing. This is nothing more than a futuristic sci-fi/ horror riff on the traditional western narrative.\nNatasha Henstridge stars as Melody Ballard, a tough-as-nails cop who is in the midst of making a routine prison transport to a barren Mars outpost. Then all hell breaks loose -- decapitated bodies amass and gallons of blood are spilt.\nSomeone has to be held responsible for the massive bloodletting. Enter their infamous prisoner Desolation Williams (Ice Cube). Williams eventually sides with the officers in a battle for their lives against a group of former miners, transformed into crazed, self-mutilating monsters by a mythic spirit that inhabits the planet. More violence ensues, then the credits roll.\n"Ghosts of Mars" begins as a mildly thought provoking film, boldly addressing issues such as drug abuse, race relations and sexuality in its first quarter, but the social relevance quickly dissipates and carnage reigns.\nIce Cube turns in a schizophrenic performance in the film. He oscillates unnaturally between child-like innocence and bombastic action hero bravado. \nHenstridge gives her best performance to date, infusing her likeable character with a sense of honor. \nThe film is slightly reminiscent of Carpenter's early masterwork "Assault on Precinct 13," but to a greatly diminished degree. Viewers should familiarize themselves with this under-appreciated director's catalogue rather than trek out to view this mediocre glimpse at successes past.
(07/25/02 8:23pm)
Georgia quintet Collective Soul, spearheaded by brothers Ed and Dean Roland, reached the public consciousness in 1994 with debut album Hints, Allegations and Things Left Unsaid and the hard-rocking, chart-topping single "Shine." \nSeven years and four albums later, the brothers Roland and company have amassed enough material to release 7even Year Itch, a greatest hits album, and the results are primarily good.\nThe album's tracks appear in no certain order, but the selections made, at least for the most part, are quite apt and entertaining.\nInterestingly enough, the album's high points include tracks that are featured on two other releases. "She Said" originally appeared on the "Scream 2" soundtrack and later showed up as a bonus track on Dosage, the band's excellent 1999 release. "Run" was featured prominently on the "Varsity Blues" soundtrack, and was bar none this critic's favorite tune on Dosage. Both songs grapple with relatively sad issues and desperate figures. But skillful power-pop balladry and moving string arrangements easily mask these morose elements. What could have been a dual gloom-fest is elevated into thoughtful and inspiring meditations on the human condition.\nCollective Soul was wise in following the tried and true "greatest hits" formula by including its most popular songs, such as "Gel," "The World I Know," "Listen" and "December." These tracks sound as good today as they did the day of their release and are welcome additions to the album.\nThe boys were also smart in excluding a vast majority of their last album, Blender. Aside from first-class "Why Pt. 2," which is included on 7even Year Itch, the record blew pretty hard. Instead, they opted for stronger tracks such as "Precious Declaration" and "Forgiveness" off their 1997 effort Disciplined Breakdown.\nThe album isn't without its faults and a certain omission should have been made in "Next Homecoming," which doesn't begin to match the caliber of other tunes within the collection. \nDespite a few minor qualms, 7even Year Itch is a solid greatest hits album that should satisfy both seasoned fans of Collective Soul and the uninitiated who are simply looking for a capable rock album.\nRating: 7
(07/25/02 8:23pm)
With little knowledge of Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell's graphic novel "From Hell," I went into the screen adaptation with little to no expectations aside from those of the cinematic variety. Many fans of the source material cried foul when informed of narrative and tonal shifts within the film, but to the uninitiated "From Hell" proves to be a taut and provocative historical thriller.\nJohnny Depp headlines the film in grand fashion as Inspector Frederick Abberline. His work here is subtly strong, and slightly reminiscent of recent turns in both "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" and "Sleepy Hollow." \nAbberline is a man of the law and for the most part quite ethical. But, he's also a pervasive drug addict indulging in absinthe cocktails and frequent stints in opium dens. In the midst of these binges, he experiences hallucinatory visions of the future. These events pertain to his latest case, one unlike any he's ever tackled. Abberline is tracking the murderous rampage of the "original" serial killer, Jack the Ripper. \nThe Ripper has taken to murdering cockney prostitutes under the veil of night on the streets of White Chapel, a slum in late 19th century London. His actions are brutal yet meticulous. He lures these "ladies of the night" with grapes (a delicacy at the time) and liquor, only to slash their throats and proceed in dissecting them, removing organs ranging from the uterus to the heart. \nOne such prostitute, Mary Kelly (Heather Graham), becomes entangled in both the investigation (she's one of The Ripper's targets) and with Abberline, as the two share a brief romance. Graham turns in her best work since "Boogie Nights." She instills Mary with a great sense of humility allowing viewers to care about her, and thus, makes one hell of a damsel in distress.\n"From Hell" was stylishly directed by the Hughes brothers ("Menace II Society"), who claim this film is as much about the "hood" as any of their previous efforts. This is true to an extent but irrelevant. The film's success cannot be attributed to their street credentials -- that accolade rests solely in their skill as filmmakers. "From Hell" is a gorgeous film to behold what with its phenomenal cinematography, impeccable set design and masterful performances. Without a doubt "From Hell" is the finest suspense/horror film to have been released in some time.
(07/25/02 8:23pm)
High Times magazine has been at the forefront of America's marijuana subculture for a while now. That said, it's only appropriate for High Times to release a double album chock full of tunes chronicling the weed connoisseur's lifestyle in an album which said individuals can smoke along with. It's a good idea. Jam band music and weed are for the most part intrinsically linked, and the two come to a head with Rip This Joint.\nWell-known and much-loved cult artists such as The String Cheese Incident, Fishbone, Big Head Todd and the Monsters, Gov't Mule and Primus front man Les Claypool all make contributions to the two-disc set. Foghat's classic rock anthem "Slow Ride" is also included in the set. The track serves a prominent role in the stoner's musical pantheon because of its inclusion in Richard Linklater's "Dazed and Confused" (a nostalgic love letter to the '70s, high school and most certainly pot). It's during these tracks that Rip This Joint reaches its high point. The tunes are focused and branch out beyond the whole weed theme of the venture, but only ever so slightly.\nOther contributions by lesser-known artists such as Commander Cody and His East Coast Airmen, The Disco Biscuits and Rubberman also register quite nicely. These tunes are far less commercial in nature but are no less entertaining.\nMusically, the quality remains consistently high throughout Rip This Joint. But the albums as mastered by Glen Robinson are muddled, and the sound is certainly lacking in many respects. Such could be the nature of the beast? These discs sound as though they were engineered by someone who has bong water for brains. I've never heard CDs sound this dirty, and thus cannot give the set a positive review despite the impeccable musical craftsmanship of many of the artists associated.\nHigh Times could be on to something in hopes of expanding their enterprise beyond their dank rag of cannabis centerfolds and mail-in weed offers. The magazine is in post-production on a feature length motion picture entitled Pot Luck starring Jason "Phat Buds" Mewes a.k.a. Jay and Tommy Chong. Further albums wouldn't hurt either, just so long as their music selection remains discriminatory and the technology behind the album is improved.
(07/25/02 8:23pm)
Thirteen Ghosts" is the new Halloween offering from Joel Silver and Robert Zemeckis' Dark Castle Entertainment, the same company that brought us 1999's "House on Haunted Hill." Much like that film, "Thirteen Ghosts" is an interpretation of a classic William Castle horror picture and the results are truly mediocre.\n"Thirteen Ghosts" tells the story of Arthur (Tony Shalhoub), a down-on-his-luck mathematics professor who lost his wife and all his earthly possessions in a tragic house fire. He and his two children Bobby (Alec Roberts) and Kathy (Shannon Elizabeth) now live in relative poverty alongside their live-in nanny Maggie (rapper Rah Digga). This makes no sense whatsoever seeing as how most indigent folks have trouble paying the bills let alone the hired help. This is one nonsensical idea in a film chock full of them. Anyway, Arthur is eventually notified that he and his family inherited the house of his Uncle Cyrus (F. Murray Abraham).\nArthur, Maggie and the kids think this is the end to all of their problems. Boy, could they be more wrong? Cyrus was a world-renowned scientist and adventurer, but when all is said and done he's nothing more than a perverse bastard. His gorgeous, shatterproof glass-encased home (kudos to the production designers) is actually "a machine designed by the devil and powered by the dead." Cyrus captured ghosts under the tutelage of a dweebish ghostbuster wannabe named Rafkin (Matthew Lillard) and placed them throughout the dwelling. \nThe film as directed by special effects artist turned first time director Steve Beck is rather muddled and disjoint. The shots are choppy and seem as though they were cut by a ramshackle lawnmower. True horror, minus one creepy bathroom sequence, is never achieved because viewers aren't given enough time to see what is going on. The acting ranges from serviceable (Shalhoub and, surprisingly enough, Lillard) to poor (Elizabeth and Abraham make their "respective" stints in "Tomcats" and "Finding Forrester" seem brilliant and restrained by comparison). \n"Thirteen Ghosts," as advertised by recent television ads, is rated R for gore, violence, nudity and bad language. This may impress your run-of-the-mill 15-year-old boy, but in all likelihood won't do a whole lot for most filmgoers.
(07/25/02 8:23pm)
George Lucas revolutionized film in 1977 by eschewing the smaller personal movies that populated much of the decade to create a space opera of grand proportions. On a greater level, he created the modern blockbuster as we know it today.\nThe film was "Star Wars: Episode IV -- A New Hope." It entered the public's subconscious and brought about a childlike mystique unlike few films had before. After a 22-year directorial hiatus, Lucas returned to the franchise that made him the iconic figure he is today and produced the expertly crafted yet ultimately disappointing prequel "Star Wars: Episode 1 -- The Phantom Menace."\nThe film possessed no characters who exuded half the cool Han Solo did. Instead, audiences were treated to the grating antics of an annoying Gungan named Jar Jar Binks (a character whose creation came about solely to sell toys). Most filmgoers were pissed. The film that had been hailed as the best thing since sliced bread prior to its release was deemed only good to mediocre. Perhaps the disappointment would've been muffled had the film not been released in the same year as "The Matrix," a truly superior sci-fi epic.\nUpon subsequent viewings, many viewers warmed up to the flick. I certainly did. Anticipation grew with the announcement that "The Phantom Menace" would be the first "Star Wars" film to be released on the immensely popular and technically superior DVD format. The two-disc set was well worth the wait.\nWithout question, "The Phantom Menace" possesses the cleanest sound and picture I've seen in this format. This comes as no real surprise, considering Lucas revolutionized the home theater industry with his THX-certified discs and equipment. In addition to the gorgeous looking flick, the discs contain commentary by Lucas, producer Rick McCallum, sound designer Ben Burtt, special effects supervisor Dennis Muren and deleted scenes prepared exclusively for the DVD, numerous featurettes chronicling the film's production and a new behind the scenes documentary which takes viewers inside the depths of Lucasfilm and ILM. \nIt's a tad disappointing that Lucas chose to release "The Phantom Menace" on DVD prior to the previous films, but the skill and precision exemplified in this truly impressive set whet the appetite for subsequent DVD releases.
(07/25/02 8:23pm)
California rockers Lit manage to do something with their latest release, Atomic, that few other breakout bands do: avoid the dreaded sophomore slump.\nLit entered public consciousness two years ago with its major label debut, A Place in the Sun, which spawned hit singles including "My Own Worst Enemy," "Miserable" and "Zip-lock." Atomic maintains the none-too-subtle commercial appeal of the first album while simultaneously improving upon their standard pop-rock formula. The hooks and licks are sharper while the lyrics are a tad more insightful.\nAtomic finds its footing upon its two introductory tracks, "Something to Someone" and "The Last Time Again;" these tunes epitomize Lit at its best. Essentially, the songs are flawless hard rock/pop medleys. The placement of these tracks detracts slightly from the rest of the album because the momentum simply isn't maintained. But mellow tunes including "Happy in the Meantime," "Slip," "She Comes" and "Live for This" give the album a sense of stability and are good in their own right. As is the disc's bonus track "Over My Head," which is highly reminiscent of the works on A Place in the Sun.\nLit co-produced the album with Don Gilmore, best known for his work with Sugar Ray, Eve 6 and Linkin Park. He also manned the boards on A Place in the Sun. His work here is fairly similar to the material he's produced with the other artists, especially the latest Sugar Ray album, but it's capable nonetheless.\nLit prove to be a solid collective. Brothers A.Jay and Jeremy Popoff write solid yet unoriginal pop rock numbers and fill their positions at lead vocals and guitar quite nicely. And bassist Kevin Baldes and drummer Allen Shellenberger provide a solid backbeat to the proceedings. \nWhile Lit produces nothing more than likable pop-fueled rock tunes the sheer saccharine nature of the music can grow grating at times. Atomic is a good album, but one that is best enjoyed in small doses.
(07/25/02 8:23pm)
The Farrelly Brothers are the undisputed kings of the modern day gross-out comedy. This highly coveted title was attained through such crudely comedic gems as "Dumb and Dumber," "Kingpin" and "There's Something About Mary." \nTheir latest film, "Shallow Hal," differs somewhat from their previous efforts in that it wears its heart blatantly upon its sleeve, extending itself beyond the ongoing series of "fat" jokes promised in trailers. The wince-inducing laughs are still presented in abundance. But the patented Farrelly crassness is dulled by a sensitivity foreign to many of their works.\nJack Black, lead singer of Tenacious D and the man who stole "High Fidelity" from the ever-dependable John Cusack, headlines the flick as Hal Larson.\nHal's father was a preacher who died when Hal was 9. While under the influence of a considerable morphine drip, he instills last minute words of wisdom to his impressionable son. The advice falls somewhere along the lines of, "Avoid love, son. That's the mistake I made with your mother. Hot, young tail. That's what it's all about."\nHal does his father proud, and pursues nothing further than meaningless relationships with women who are far from his league. Alongside his equally shallow buddy Mauricio (Jason Alexander), who wears spray-on hair and an undersized Members Only jacket, Hal prowls clubs looking to hook up with disinterested beauties.\nThis all changes during a chance encounter with self-help guru Tony Robbins (as himself) in a stalled elevator. Tony cuts through Hal's shallow nature to see a kind-hearted and sensitive man lying beneath, and thus, hypnotizes him to see only a woman's inner beauty. \nShortly after, Hal happens upon a nurse/Peace Corps volunteer named Rosemary (Gwyneth Paltrow) who looks exactly like the aforementioned star, but in reality is a 300-pound woman with a heart of gold. He's smitten and enters into a whirlwind romance, unbeknownst to her actual appearance.\nBlack, in his first leading man role, doesn't disappoint. He's charming and consistently funny. "Shallow Hal," will make this guy a star, and rightfully so. He's the most comedically gifted actor working in Hollywood today. Paltrow also does wonders in the role of Rosemary, giving her finest performance since "Shakespeare in Love." She instills Rosemary with an insecurity that suits the character perfectly. She's really very touching, and the two have impeccable chemistry.\n"Shallow Hal" amounts to more than the trailers would have you to believe. It's a tad schizophrenic at times, but that doesn't numb the overall effect of the movie. The Farrelly brothers have produced the best romantic comedy of the year and a great date movie for more adventurous filmgoers.
