"MOVIES YOU'LL FEEL WORSE ABOUT LATER..."

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EUGENIE
...THE STORY OF HER JOURNEY INTO PERVERSION
starring Christopher Lee, Marie Liljedahl, Maria Rohm, directed by Jess Franco, Color, Unrated, 1969

Distributed by Blue Underground
Film Reviewed By: Chris Beyond

Strangely, I haven't seen a lot of Jess Franco's films. What I have seen is pretty hit and miss,...but when it's a hit, it's usually reaaly good. That's the case with this new re-release from Bill Lustig's Blue Underground video company based on a book by the Marque De Sade set in the swinging 60s.

EUGENIE...THE STORY OF HER JOURNEY INTO PERVERSION begins with a man begining an affair with a woman who tells him that she has befriended his daughter. She tells him that in exchange for sex, she would would like to take his daughter away to be her plaything. He agrees as long as she doesn't "shock" his daughter. You soon realize that maybe this woman only intends to keep her world only to the literal meaning

Things start nicely at first. It is obvious that Eugenie has more than a crush on this woman which quickly progresses into lesbian loveplay. What Eugenie doesn't know is that this woman is far too involved with her own brother and both are scheming to draw her deep into the depths of depravity with ultimately leads to extreme torture and ritualistic murder all overseen by the sinisterly calm but menacing Dolmance (played by Christopher Lee).

First off I have to say that the transfer of this film looks great. The colors are almost perfect and you really get the feel of the time that this film was shot in. I really like the cinematography too. It feels like this film was made to look way more expensive than it really was to make. This is probably one of the films that made Jess Franco a cult legend in his own time (and ours). His actors are subdued even at times where it is almost inappropriate, but after you've seen the whole film you understand that the things these people do may be the only way they can truely feel things. The best performances come from the titular star of the film, Marie Liljedahlm and Christopher Lee whose character, while seemingly the person behind all of the events of the film, is almost the film's on-screen narrator as well. Despite the horrible things Eugenie has to go through, Marie Liljedahlm brightens the already bright and sometimes psychedelic screen in every shot she appears in.

I wondered at first because of the strong themes, but I think this film is even safe to watch with your significant other. There is no doubt that this film is completely about violence against women (it is based on a Marque De Sade story after all), but it is impressive in how the film gets away with telling you that this might be what the characters want anyway, torturers and victims alike.

The extras on the DVD include a new 17 minute documentary featuring the stars of the film (including an elderly Christopher Lee in what has to be a jacket from the 70s that he found in the back of his closet) and the director Jess Franco, an original trailer for the film, and a photo gallery which include press materials (!!!!!). Blue Underground has done it again and like the antagonists in this film, they can keep pn doing it to us over and over.

In their 2002 book The Sleazoid Express, grindhouse aficionados Bill Landis and Michelle Clifford call Fight For Your Life “the racism exploitation movie to end them all.” They go on to say “[The film is] calculated to drive inner city audiences berserk with rage for an hour and a half before giving whitey his comeuppance, it would also be suitable entertainment for a Ku Klux Klan barbecue.”

And believe it, kids, Fight For Your Life is going to shock you when you watch it. But watch it you should, because it’s a pretty taut, overwrought, down ‘n dirty little flick. And I promise you, you won’t feel guilty for liking it.

See, I don’t actually think the movie itself is all that racist. That’d be like calling Deliverance homophobic, or The Conqueror Worm antireligious. Now, the lead villain in the movie IS racist. Perhaps one of the most vile, sleazy, stupid, racist characters ever put in a movie. And here’s where people will get uncomfortable. But, like I said, you shouldn’t. Let me get back to this in a second.

William Sanderson (Larry, leader of the quiet brothers Darryl, from “Newhart") plays Jessie Lee Kane, a notorious murderer and rapist, who escapes from prison one morning, and ends up holding Tom Turner, a pacifist black preacher, and his family, hostage.

25 minutes into it and you’re going to be cupping your hand over your mouth in disbelief at what you are hearing coming out of Sanderson’s mouth. Moments after escaping the cops, he is holding up a liquor store, killing the owner and then pointing his pistol at the owner’s baby. As he holds the fearful family hostage, he gets drunk and forces the dad to dance a jig by firing bullets at his feet. He rapes the daughter and beats the preacher with his own Bible. Meanwhile, a laconic, by-the-books cop is chasing the felon and his cohorts across the state.

The script packs in racial slurs like they were on sale that day, ten for a dime. It’s unbelievable how downright nasty the language gets after awhile. However, by the end, all is vindicated. Trust me, by the time the credits roll, you will be cheering. The filmmakers put you in a very uncomfortable place for the length of the movie; you just don’t know who’s gonna get killed, raped, or worse. The movie often goes to places you don’t think it has the balls to go into. Then it does and you’re just shaking your head, fearing the worst. And I’m not really spoiling it by telling you this, but eventually the tables are turned, and the hostage-takers become the hostages, and the once pacifist, God-fearing family decides that maybe a little good old-fashioned Old Testament vengeance in order.

The other thing is, I never really thought that Sanderson’s racist character was all that scary. At one point his hostages remark that “without that gun you’d be nothing,” and you can’t help but feel that they’re telling the truth. He’s just a skinny, drunk white guy who happens have a pistol. He’s never threatening, only loud. If you ever watched “Newhart,” and you remember the Larry character, then you have a pretty good idea of just how he comes across onscreen. He’s more athletic and wide-eyed crazy here, but just as fragile looking. Seriously, he passes out a couple times in the movie; whenever this happened, I kept yelling at the family to beat him over the head with something and run.

Not to say he’s not good in the role. For what it’s worth, he plays the part to the hilt. It’s just, I kinda wanted him to be more of a threatening presence than he was. When David Hess walks onscreen in Last House on the Left or House on the Edge of the Park, you get scared. You think he’s gonna punch and snarl his way off the screen and into your living room, where he’ll rape your girlfriend and eat your cat. (Recently, Muse Watson played a similarly vile character in the underrated If I Die Before I Wake. Honestly, if I ever find myself in the same room as Watson, I may actually avoid him at all costs, so convincing was his character.) But here, Sanderson, despite giving it his all and then some, just doesn’t have that weight to him. I often thought, “This guy’s a chump, I can take him. Why are you guys all just sitting there listening to this tripe. Kick his balls in!”

Either way, Fight for Your Life is a nasty, but enjoyable little flick, with a great theme-song, a great, pump-your-fist-in-the-air ending. There’s even some great dialogue, sprinkled in throughout the racial slurs. At one point, one cops mutters, “Well … jerk … me … off!”

And while some will no doubt blanch at the racist language and overtones of the movie, I honestly thought Mandingo and Goodbye Uncle Tom were much more extreme in their racism. To me, in the case of Fight, the filmmakers no doubt exploit the racism of their character in the hopes of riling their audience, but they also make sure that in the end, the racism is not in any way, shape or form rewarded. In fact, it’s brutally punished.

If you like flicks like Last House on the Left, The Black Gestapo or They Call Her One-Eye (or hell, even Kill Bill) then check this out. It offended me in lots of places, but it’s supposed to. It’s well acted, well paced and does what any good exploitation quickie should do: it delivers the goods.

Blue Underground’s DVD is, as usual, a superlative package. The trailers are the best part. One “black trailer,” and one “white” trailer. The black trailer hypes the “black power” aspects of the film, and even gives away the ending.

Ok, I know we’re only three months into the new year, but so far, this is my favorite movie of 2005. I realize it was released in 2003, but that was in South Korea, and from what I hear, this year it’s getting released in the States, after a rousing response at Cannes last year (it did take home the Grand Prix, and was rumored to be the favorite of festival judge Quentin Tarantino.) It’s also up for an American remake, which, well, don’t get me started on.

Oldboy is one of the coolest, most brutal, poignant, and shocking revenge movies I have ever seen. Simple as that. As soon as you get the chance to see it, see it.

Min-sik Choi plays Dae-su Oh, a man who is imprisoned for 15 years, without being told why, and then one day released by his captors. They give him some money and a cell phone and then give him an ultimatum: find out the reasons why he was imprisoned, or they will kill every woman he ever loved. Driven by revenge, but also by curiosity (after all that time, wouldn’t you just HAVE to know WHY?) Dae-su begins solving the mystery, with the aid of a pretty young cook who has taken an inexplicable liking to him.

The violence in Oldboy is absolutely stunning: at times stomach-turning, at other times head-turning. The cinematography and editing are also a pleasure to behold. There are two scenes in particular that will be the topic of conversation once it is over. One is a scene where Min-sik Choi eats a live octopus, which in turn begins wrapping its tentacles around his hand and face. The other involves a long tracking-shot and a hammer. Above and beyond all that, the movie has a climax that just might make you explode. It’s nerve-shattering, twisted and intensely haunting.

I truly loved this movie so much that I don’t even want to talk about it at any length. I don’t want any of my enthusiasm to be misinterpreted as hyperbole. Just trust me, that’s all. It’s a knock-out piece of work that you won’t ever forget.

I have a secret to tell you, and no it isn’t that I watched the first season of Pimp My Ride.  That should be pretty obvious, buster.  No, Taryn Had 2 Mommies.  And the other one was MTV.  People don’t believe me but I was there from day one.  I ran away from bathtime to sit, buck naked, on the ubiquitous plaid-y tweedy couch and wait for the World Video Premiere of “Jump.”  My dad let me stay up with him to watch “Thriller”, a move he regretted for the next two weeks while I had nightmares.  C’mon, I was 3.

Remember when MTV was like that?  With, like, music videos and an occasional detour to Kurt Loder-land for the news – music-related, of course?  Yeah, me too.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not saying MTV was ever anything but pre-packaged pop culture pap.  But it used to be about the music, man.   

I wanted my MTV.  Nowadays the kids want so much more.  MTV these days teems with reality shows sub-divided into: embarrass the pleb, improve the pleb, watch the celebrity embarrass him/herself (I really hope Whitney & Bobby’s show gets off the ground … as soon as Whitney gets off the floor and into rehab.  Again) or watch the pseudo-celebrity embarrass himself (no need to be gender-correct as I’m referring solely to the post-Jackass detritus.  Cute as Bam is, Viva La Bam is no Jackass.  And Wild Boyz is, well, baffling.  Pontius, if you can’t get to a razor and scissors, just use a sharpened rock or a boar’s tooth or something, please!)

PMR is a pleasant surprise.  I want to say it stands on the line between embarrassing the pleb and helping the pleb, but it’s never mean-spirited enough to be embarrassing.  The Pimpee is usually sweetly self-deprecating and X-to-da-Z Xzibit cracks wise (one of his best moments, besides repping Breakin’, was pulling a rotting Subway sandwich from the back of one kid’s truck and asking him, “What is up with Jared’s diet, yo?”)  But PMR is kind of endearing in its helpfulness.  None of the newly-pimped cars come with a catch, like “You can only have this if you can hold your breath underwater for 90 seconds while scorpions crawl over your pasty, naked body!” or “Just kidding, this car is for you … and your long-lost twin sister!  To share!”

PMR is MTV distilled down to 13 lean, mean minutes.  Every show follows a formula practically down to the timecode.  Observe:

• X-to-da-Z braggadocio: 6 seconds.  This is where Xzibit introduces us to himself (needlessly) and yet more of the behemoths in his vehicular stable (shamelessly.)

• “Pleeeeaase, MTV, Pimp My Ride!”: 1 minute, 45 s.  After an enjoyable but scant minute allowing this week’s hapless car owner to badmouth their vehicle, the plea goes out.  Although, to be fair, they really ought to ask X-to-da-Z to Pimp their Ride.  MTV is sort of like the silent partner in all of this.  At least, that’s what I’m getting from X-to-da-Z.

• Xzibit glamour shots: 1 min. 50 s.  This is my favorite.  Xzibit’s comin’ to the rescue – in slow motion!  If he had long, flowing locks, he’d be shaking them in the sunlight.  As is, he mugs and preens for the camera and is then edited and manipulated Agent Smith-style before …

• “I’m ‘bout to Pimp his/her Ride”: 1 min. 57 s.  Note not only the 3rd (but certainly not the last) instance of “He said the name of the show!” but again, how concise this is.  Not even 2 minutes in and the pimping of rides is begun!

Even I have to admit, the car makeovers are pretty spiffy.  The West Coast Customs guys are professional and creative.  The paint guy mixes a new custom color, usually named after the Pimpee, nearly every episode.  Mad Mike, the engineer, will put anything in a trunk: motorized shoe rack, mini mobile karaoke machine, huge flat screens and PS2s that made Erik cry (or maybe that’s because I kicked him after he sniggered about X calling himself “Mr. Hoodwrench” one too many times.)

I can’t say this will have a lot of rewatchability but Pimp My Ride far exceeded my expectations.

OK, boys n girls, when it comes to depraved cinema, I’ve seen ‘em all. Well, not all; there are a few infamous titles out there that I have yet to get my paws on (Men Behind the Sun, August Underground to name a couple) but I’ve seen A LOT of them. I’ve seen Cannibal Holocaust, I Spit On Your Grave, Aftermath, Nekromantic, the Ilsa movies …

In other words, it really takes something extra sick and nasty to get at me. I mean, there are things in movies that disturb me all the time. The brutal, graphic violence in The Passion or Saving Private Ryan, for instance. But to really get under my skin and make me feel as though I’m going to hell for even WATCHING what I’m watching … to make me want to wash out my eyes with soap and renounce my evil ways and join the nearest monastery … something that I just feel completely GUILTY for even sitting through …

Salo is just such a movie. My God did it make me ill. I can’t even think of how many times I went for the OFF button. Not cuz I couldn’t take it. I can TAKE IT, more or less. I just didn’t know if I SHOULD. I just didn’t feel right about sitting through this whole thing. I guess I thought that maybe once it was finished I would feel redeemed, like maybe the atrocities and perversities I was bearing witness to would be avenged and purified.

Nope, no luck there.

Salo is based on The 120 Days of Sodom, by de Sade. The story takes place not in de Sade’s time, but in Fascist Italy, where Mussolini’s men sequester themselves in a secluded villa, where they gorge themselves on all manner of deviant fantasies. Pedophilia, coprophilia, rape, torture, mutilation … goaded by the cries and pleas of the damned.

There isn’t a plot, not really. The film, as best as I gather, is more a portrait of power and immorality without limits, a world where nothing is forbidden, where the very right to humanity is disregarded in an exercise of perverse avarice. How far can our absolute power take us? these fascist devils seem to be asking the audience. Want to see? Fine then, we’ll be glad to show you.

Once a group of boys and girls are rounded up from the nearby town, they are brought to the above-mentioned villa, where they are informed that no one knows they are there, that no one even knows that they are, in fact, alive at all. They will be subject to the sexual whims of the officers, who are gathered at the villa to build morale before going into battle. The children are told “I hope you don’t expect to find, here, the ridiculous freedom granted by the outside world. You are beneath the reach of any legality.”

The film is then broken down into three chapters. In the first we are shown all manner sexual perversions, mostly of the pedophilic slant. The fascist officers gather in the “orgy room,” where they are told stories by prostitutes, to “get them in the mood.” This first chapter is bad enough, as all the victims are young teenagers, and the officers are all old men. While all the actors looks to be of legal age, it still feels creepy and pedophilic, even though I never had the worry that what I was seeing was actual child porn. It just feels that way.

The second chapter is the worst, as far as I’m concerned. Here one of the prostitutes tells a tale of one of her clients who enjoyed watching her defecate and then eat her “deposits.” This just curls my stomach. The officers love this, and decide that they must “act upon madam’s story immediately!” So they proceed to feed the children whatever they can to make them constipated, so that when they do evacuate, they deliver “a most delicate, stinking dish.”

Just telling you about is making me sick. I could hardly sit through this portion of the movie, that just goes on and on. At one point, one officer craps on the floor and forces a girl to eat it; he even offers her a fork. Another officer has a girl pee in his mouth. Another chastises a boy for relieving himself too early, and having the gall to wipe himself afterwards. The chapter culminates with a grand feast, where the collected deposits are cooked and served for the entire villa to enjoy.

Literally, almost an hour of this movie is about eating, and worshipping shit. I have to admit, I fast forward through the supper scene. There are too many close ups. I slowly push my bag of Oreo cookies to the side. I just so happen to stop on a scene where a man and a young boy are kissing each other, their lips covered in poop. I hit the button again. Why am I even finishing this?

In the next chapter, the children are tortured. The movie climaxes with the officers watching through binoculars as the children are burned, mutilated, choked, raped (and then hung). It is some of the most graphic violence I have ever seen. At times, I honestly thought it was real. Eye-gougings, tongue-slicings, penis-burnings … it goes on and on.

Thing is, the movie was so somber, so dark and humorless, that it not only sickens you, it depresses the hell out of you. I have read that the movie is supposed to be an indictment of fascism and barbarism, and it certainly is. The director’s intentions are clear, I think. Many argue that de Sade was a satirist, and for the most part I can agree. This IS satire. Believe me, this movie IS making fun of these corrupt men and women; and also making fun of the children who surrender to their whims without conflict (this, in itself, is satirizing the entire symbiotic relationship of dictator and subjugated) But it is satire without the comfort of humor. As cinema, it is a portrait of depravity, of absolute power corrupted absolutely. It offers no redemption. It offers no safety. It does not glorify, it simply illustrates. And for that, it works. It works brilliantly. You cannot deny the film’s brutal, sadistic power.

This is as nihilistic as cinema gets, people. Grim, uncompromising, covered in blood and come and shit, somberly rubbing your face in it all the while. Daring you to look away, begging you to look away. And, if you DO look away, Salo says, you will be as guilty for what you are seeing as those who are perpetrating it. Evil exists, even if you look away, the film says. Try to ignore it, it’s still there. What can YOU do about it?
Is it good? I can’t say. I can only say this: It works. I don’t feel good about watching it. I don’t see how anyone could. I can’t even say that I’m glad I watched it. I probably could have lived my whole life without having to see most of what I saw in this movie.

And yeah, I can say I honestly feel guilty for watching it. I feel guilty because while I absolutely deplore all that I saw within it, I can’t say that it has no reason to exist. I can’t truthfully say that there isn’t a purpose for a film like this. It isn’t preachy, but through its actions it speak volumes. This is a dangerous movie, if taken the wrong way. And, taken the right way, if there is such a thing, it is repugnant and undeniably powerful.

This isn’t a GOOD review for Salo. It is just a review. I won’t recommend you watch it. But I’ll dare you to watch it.
I’ll dare you to feel good about yourself afterwards.

Because of the terrible terrible terrible cover art on this film, I would normally not even give this film a second thought. And if I were a customer in a video store, there is no way that I would pick this up to even read what the film is about. Poster art is important for a reason, if for anything else...basic marketing Am I the only person sick to death with movie posters that have so little consideration for your intelligence that they think that all they have to do is have a bunch of faces from the film photoshopped together in some kind of collage like you'd see in the back of your old yearbook? Apparently I am because I keep seeing it month after month, year after year.

Hey, what can I say? I'm a designer AND I'm a movie fan.

So all that being said. The real problem with the cover art is that it keeps people from seeing what turns out to be a good movie. Soundman is about a man on the verge of a nervous breakdown, not unlike Falling Down, who works as a soundman named Igby on a cowboy film (that seems to be based on Shakespeare). The film begins with us being pulled directly into his world while on set. We see the frustration he goes through while rolling sound when the actor (played by the seemingly always excellent Nick Stahl) mumbles through his lines or pops the sound. This eventually leads to an altercation with a grip on the set who threatens to beat him up in the parking lot.

We learn that Igby is having an on-set affair with a fellow crewmember, but is enamored with a fellow tenant in his apartment building who plays violin. He's trying to use his connections to get her an audition to play violin in movies or television, but nothing seems to pan out even after he leads her to believe that it is. In a desperate move he confronts the director of the film to follow up on trying to get her an audition. What follows is his world unraveling after a series of bad decisions and bad luck including being held up in an alley at gunpoint by a little kid. Pushed too far, he decides to take things into his own hands; getting revenge on the people who wronged him and helping the woman he made promises to with the help of a gun he stole from the set.

So while this is territory that was covered by falling down, this is still a good film. It's definitely a different film and the people involved here aren't as black and white as they were in that film. The people he is angry at in this film aren't all complete bad guys and Igby certainly isn't a great guy himself. The acting in this film is actually pretty good and help draw you into what would otherwise be a small film. They could have easily phoned it in, but instead go with it all the way. Special kudos go to Wayne Péré as Igby, Nick Stahl as the former child actor (although his part is small, he really shines through in his role), and Eliane Chappuis as Igby's infatuation. She especially lights up the screen every time she is on and her performance alone is worth the price of a rental.

So look past the cover (and the fact that former Guns And Roses guitarman Slash does the music on the soundtrack) and check this one out. If you hate it, start a letter writing campaign against my review.

April Margera: “Bam, you are the worst boy ever!”

And that’s nothing we didn’t know before.  Viva La Bam is ultimate wish-fulfillment for the still-living-at-home set.  Bam gets to boss his parents around, skate anywhere he wants and destroy thousands and thousands of dollars worth of stuff (usually belonging to his parents.)  Every episode.

Tony Hawk: “You’re going to Mardi Gras for the first time … with your parents.”

 The show suffers a bit in comparison to Jackass because there are only so many times I want to see Phil’s tummy paddled or Don Vito’s garbled ranting subtitled.  When the show focuses on a dare or extended stunt, the boys are at the top of their game.  This isn’t better illustrated than when Johnny Knoxville comes for a visit and ends up raging a weekend-long prank war that destroys vehicles, pants, wallets and Sean Penn’s, er, reputation (I can understand why his son Hopper – yes, Hopper – was invited but what is Sean Penn doing here?  All he does is kick it in a lawn chair while Hopper dumps green paint on Knoxville’s rental car.)

Bam: “I think I outdid myself.”

Dunn: “You didn’t do anything.”

Bam: “I made a phone call …”

What it boils down to is Bam is not the most compelling of the post-Jackass crew.  I’m personally a bigger fan of Ryan Dunn, who may seem like a dipshit most of the time but who can really do deadpan, and Brandon DiCamillo (aka Dico), probably the only real actor of the bunch and vastly funnier than most … maybe that’s why he’s not around as much these 2 seasons? 

“Bam!  Slayer’s on the phone!”

Aside from the aforementioned Knoxville episode, there are other standouts:

* “Dating Don Vito” (#202), where the boys try to whip Vito into, er, shape in order to get himself a date for the Slayer concert (the women somehow convinced to meet Vito prior to the concert are all dismissed with a slap to the forehead.)

* “Mardi Gras pts. 1 and 2” (#s 204 and 205.) When Dunn refuses to wake up, Bam leaves him behind – but at least he left him a dirt bike to drive the 1,200 miles to New Orleans.  And, in an example of why I like Dunn, he gives up on the bike and charters a plane, beating Bam’s RV cavalcade by a few hours.

* “Angry Ape” (#214.)  Can April go 24 hours without getting upset at Bam’s antics?  Not when they reset the timer 5 times in the first hour.  Or hide her car … on the 2nd story deck.  Or dye the pool green … while she’s in it.  Or set her clock an hour back so she thinks she has to stay calm that much longer.   You get the idea.

The extras are so exhaustive, an additional third disc was needed to fit ‘em all in.  There’s over an hour of deleted scenes alone.  Frankly, these aren’t deleted scenes so much as the excess fat trimmed off existing scenes – with good reason.  The only scene worth mentioning is the extended visit with one of my favorite peripheral characters, Compton Ass Terry. 

There are “Random Ass Moments” which boil down to three montages: skating (boooring), “Crash Test Dummy” (2 seasons’ worth of abusing Rake Yohn) and “Viva Don Vito” (self-explanatory.)

There are also two music videos for HIM and TURBONEGRO (yay!) and a making-of featurette on the HIM video (which Bam directed.)

Strangely, no commentary is offered.  And I don’t understand why some of the episodes are censored, some are only partially censored and some are bleep-free.  Especially when the collection touts itself as “Uncensored.”  Huh.

February’s here and that means Valentine’s Day is upon us once again. As Jim Carrey puts it in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: “A holiday invented by greeting card companies to make people feel like crap.” And I pretty much couldn’t agree more.

Now, before you go thinking that this is gonna be some sort of cynical, malicious diatribe about the ugly side of love, I should tell you that I’m actually here just to talk about movies. Because that’s what I do.

And if you read my reviews here at No-Fi, you know that I generally like movies with blood, naked girls, guys in ape suits, guns, trolls, minimal production values and healthy heapings of bad taste. I don’t usually deal with “romantic” fare. However, it’s confession time. I’m actually quite a sucker for a good love story, believe it or not. A lot of people, for instance, are surprised when they find out that two of my top 10 favorite movies of all time are Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Moulin Rouge. (Go ahead, laugh it up, fuzzballs.)

So I figured I’d take a bit of a break from the zombies, mummies, tentacles and chainsaw hookers (what some of my friends like to call “bloody boobie movies”) and share with you readers my personal favorite romantic movies. Don’t worry, though, because once that’s done, I have a whole slew of anti-romantic movies I’m going to recommend, too, for those of you, like me, that are going to be spending Valentine’s 2005 alone with your DVD player, a 24 pack of Labatt’s and a stack of Blue Underground goodies.

First off, some ideas for the happy folks who get to do more than sulk this year …

I mentioned already that I’m nuts about Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I just LOVE this movie to death. Audrey Hepburn, quite simply, is the most adorable woman who ever lived. But the movie just steals my heart because of its simplicity of spirit. Same with Moulin Rouge. It’s sappy, melodramatic (and some say annoying) but I get caught up in it every time I watch it. In fact, I’ll admit it, I’m a man … it’s one of the few movies that makes me cry. It might not have a happy ending as romantic pictures are SUPPOSED to have, but that makes it all the more enchanting and moving. In a similar vein, I think Lost in Translation is terribly romantic BECAUSE the love remains unconsummated. Same with The Remains of the Day.

Love stories I guess work best when they tell simple stories about one person falling in love with another person, and usually struggling to maintain their relationship with that person through some sort of hardship (be it personal, financial, health-wise, or whatever). And I’m risking an assload of derision here by admitting this, but a lot of times, the sappier the love story the more I tend to get caught up in it. So yeah, I liked Pretty In Pink, Sleepless in Seattle, Can’t Hardly Wait, Great Expectations, Jerry Maguire and Keeping the Faith.

No one makes intelligent romantic comedies like Woody Allen. I am a huge Allen fan and I think his romantic comedies and dramas are some of the more honest and hilarious ever written. Mainly his earlier ones; while I like his newer films, they don’t hold a candle to his seminal films from the 70s and 80s.

Annie Hall is the favorite amongst most moviegoers, but I personally love Hannah and Her Sisters. I’m always surprised about how romantic and unabashedly life-affirming this movie is, despite its sometimes grim subject matter and its characters’ confused immorality. Hannah is one of those movies I always tell people they HAVE to see before they die.

Allen’s breed of romantic comedy/drama have spawned their own kind of subgenre: the intellectual, neurotic romance film. And here’s where John Cusack comes in. Try High Fidelity, …Say Anything, Gross Pointe Blank or Better Off Dead. On a similar note, you could also try When Harry Met Sally, Notting Hill, Sideways, or Kicking and Screaming, an underrated personal favorite of mine.

Like your love stories with a supernatural or fantasy twist? I say you can’t do any better than Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon; Bram Stoker’s Dracula; Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (the only movie, in my opinion, that has ever truly captured on film what it’s like being IN a dream); or The Princess Bride.

What about the darker, kinkier side of love? Call me sick, I think Natural Born Killers is a great date movie. But maybe that’s a little extreme for your taste. If so, try Tromeo and Juliet, Wild at Heart or Crash, which is the only truly romantic film David Cronenberg has ever made, and probably ever WILL make. Sure it’s demented, but damn if it ain’t hot! If all of that’s a little too much for you, but you still want a LITTLE kinky … then go for Secretary or The Piano.

And that’s about it for that. If you’re like me and you want absolutely NOTHING to do with that lovey dovey shit this time of year and you’re planning on spending the next few weeks listening to Nine Inch Nails, PJ Harvey or Joy Division over and over again then the following list is for you. Fasten those scowls, my friends, and let’s get bitter …

First off, there’s My Bloody Valentine. ‘Nuff said. It’s a minor slasher classic, at least in my eyes. If you hate holiday, then celebrate by watching a crazed miner chop people up and rip out their hearts. Why not? (On a side note, beer makes this one REALLY good.)

On a more “normal” plane there are some pretty good “fuck love” or “love sucks” movies that won’t put you in a better mood, but will at least offer some commiseration. Chasing Amy is the be-all end-all flick about ruining a relationship with insecurity and jealousy. Some say it ends well enough, all things considered, but I sure didn’t think it was a very happy ending. Closer is a recent example. Miserable people doing miserable things to each other, all in the name of love. Clive Owen and Julia Roberts have some of the best “kiss off” dialogue EVER in this movie.

Like older movies? Try The Picture of Dorian Gray, the one with Angela Lansbury and Hurd Hatfield in it (I’ve never seen any other versions of it, so I can’t vouch for their quality.) Evil, spiteful and classy. This movie actually cheered me up after a particularly rough breakup about ten years ago.

Want to revel in just how duplicitous, putrid and icky love can be? Then you need to watch Love Object, M. Butterfly, The Brood, Last Exit to Brooklyn or Nekromantic. Just try to get through these without feeling a bit dirty (actually, Nekromantic will pretty much make you feel like you just reserved your own front row seat in Hell.)

Maybe you’re looking to blow off some steam, you know, vicariously unleash your demons through someone else’s fictional, evil deeds. It’s ok, we’ve all been there. Some of us can’t control these impulses, and then they end doing something asinine that throws them in jail. But most of us just grit our teeth, plot the grisly deaths of those that have dumped us or cheated on us, and then we drink too much, puke, pass out, and walk around the next feeling ashamed and grouchy. Sometimes a good, angry or bitter CD can help (Downward Spiral, Tori Amos’s “Precious Things, NWA’s “A Bitch Iz A Bitch” are a couple personal faves).

One time, after a rather depressing, soul-crushing break-up, I sought solace in The Shining, Stanley Kubrick’s controversial, soulless Stephen King adaptation. The Shining is the cinematic equivalent of an Eminem album. Keep in mind, people, only in the movies is running around with axe in a frozen hedge-maze “cool;” in real life it’s deranged and stupid. And while we’re dispensing the caveats here I might as well state for the record that I realize this might be misconstrued as “misogynistic.” I’m simply talking about anger here, ok. Not sexism. I have known a couple of different women who had similar movies that helped them deal with anger towards their exes. One liked to watch Thelma and Louise and the other liked to watch Ms. 45 when they got pissed at the men in their lives. So this isn’t just a “guy” thing. At least not in my experience.

And in closing, maybe you just feel like making yourself sick at the whole notion of human interaction and human feeling altogether. Maybe you want to take a ride into the darkest heart of insanity, depression, frailty and vileness. If you want to go bed this Valentine’s Day wondering why you should even walk out your front door ever again, then here’s a list of goodies that are sure to put you off from either sex, love, basic social interaction or life in general for at least a week or two:

I, Zombie: the Chronicles of Pain is as nihilistic as movies get. I Spit on Your Grave will diminish even their heartiest of sex drive. Aftermath (a Spanish film about a morgue attendant alone in a room with a fresh corpse; you do the math) will stick in your head for YEARS afterwards, whether you want it to or not. And you won’t. Ilsa: She-Wolf of the SS is another flick that guarantees you a nice hot place when you shuffle off that mortal coil of yours. John Waters’ Desperate Living, Pink Flamingos or Multiple Maniacs might turn you off from pretty much EVERYTHING fun in life. And Dancer in the Dark and Requiem for a Dream will just make you want to die. If none of those do the trick, try a triple feature of Schindler’s List, The Passion of the Christ and Midnight Cowboy. Try getting out of bed the next morning after THAT one.

And last, but not least, when all else fails and you want that one movie guaranteed to make you think that maybe JUST MAYBE being single MIGHT be the best way to go from here on out, pop in Eraserhead. My brother Josh and I actually created a twelve-step program for people after they’ve seen it. Not only will you never want to get involved in another relationship ever again, you definitely won’t even DREAM of ever having kids. Eraserhead just might be THE MOST effective form of birth-control. Planned Parenthood should pass copies of it out instead of prescriptions for Ortho Cyclen and condoms.

And there you have it. The yin and the yang of Valentine’s Day movie offerings, all with the Ryan Lies stamp of approval. Whatever your taste, whatever your mood, there’s probably something in all of this that will work for you.

So, either way, enjoy!

MEET STARMAN, THE COSMIC SUPERHERO FROM THE EMERALD PLANET!

I must admit I had, for some reason or another, never heard of the Japanese superhero Starman until I came across this DVD. One look at the goofy costumes on the cover and I had to buy it. And now, I can officially say that I am a fan!

Played by Ken Utsui, Starman is a smirking, cocksure, indestructible kung-fu super hero who isn’t afraid to bust a cap in a bad guy’s ass. He hails from the Emerald Planet, a place of Utopic harmony, where the beings who call the place home have taken it upon themselves to police the universe. They have built a special watch that allows Starman to fly from planet to planet (and, apparently, allow him and anyone he happens to be carrying the ability breathe in space).

In Attack From Space Starman must fly to planet Earth to stop a malevolent race of intergalactic Fascists from conquering the universe. Right away I was sold when I saw the costumes that the High Council of the Emerald Planet were wearing. Perhaps a cross between Teletubbies, Pokemon and cheap K-mart Halloween costume would best describe these sweet outfits. The sets are straight out of old Star Trek episodes, and the FX look as though they cost a nickel (for both movies combined, that is.)


Seriously, right away all I could think to myself is If this isn’t awesome, I don’t know what is.

I wondered, also, if George Lucas might not have been inspired by these flicks, because at one point, the bad dudes force Starman to tackle the Death Star, a giant fiery asteroid (or something) that they somehow control (I think.) This scene leads to the films best line: “He has no choice but to risk the flames of the Death Star.”

The movie gets a bit slow in the middle, but not detrimentally so. Once the action heats up again, you’ll be more than willing to forgive. As the film speeds towards its exciting climax, you get treated to one of the chintziest gun battles ever filmed, not to mention one of the longest, most sloppily-edited and choreographed movie fight sequences period! Look for the dummies on strings as Starman whips bodies through the air. Stellar crap, my friends, stellar crap.
The second movie, Evil Brain From Outer Space was the more entertaining of the two, and slightly more bonkers. This time the action remains earthbound, as Starman once again journeys from the Emerald Planet to save the earth from an evil race of aliens who want to conquer the universe (why these aliens choose earth to start from every time is beyond me.) Their leader’s brain is lost in a suitcase somewhere, but no matter, they have their “multiplying mutants” to help spread terror over the terrestrial populace (or at least in Japan.)

Along the way, we get to watch one of the oldest looking little kid actors I think I’ve ever seen (she kinds creeped me out, actually) and more of that wonderfully awful editing and choreography. Yes! At one point, a bad guy threatens Starman by brandishing a metal tube and saying “If you try to stop me, I will throw this nuclear grenade.” Nothing much happens when he DOES throw it, but it’s the thought the counts. However, my favorite line by far is “This is no real doctor. This is a Zimarian mutant.”

While these movies aren’t nearly as great as Ultraman movies, or the Godzilla movies, for that matter, they are still great, pointless, stupid fun.

And Something Weird’s DVD is top notch cheese rolled into a bountiful package. Not only do we get the two zany Starman flicks, we also get a short, educational film put out by the Denver Dairy Council, called My Milkman Joe. Hear we see a freaky, intergalactic puppet named Mr. Half-Pint help a neighborhood milkman deliver a presentation to a class of elementary kids on the intricacies of milk processing and delivery. We learn that the cow is “nature’s first food factory.” (And how! I say.) This short is actually ALMOST better than the two Starman movies. It’s certainly wackier.

After that there’s a anime short called Prince Planet which I just couldn’t get into. And then there are a bunch of truly strange trailers, my favorite of which is called Super Stooges Versus the Wonder Women, a movie I absolutely MUST find someday.

Where Something Weird finds all this stuff, who knows. I don’t even want to know. As long as they keep putting it out.

I don’t watch a huge amount of television because there isn’t a lot being offered to me. Things have been pretty bleak lately. I had high hopes for the post super-bowl premier of American Dad, from the creator of Family Guy, but the watered down cliché writing lacked any of the humor I was expecting. Right now, I am enjoying the second season of Carnivale (even more than the first) and I guiltily enjoyed watching Showtime’s Huff. Not a lot in the way of humor. I usually enjoy The Daily Show, but don’t watch it religiously. Most evenings, I am left to turn to my DVD collection or book library for solace and entertainment. My Strangers With Candy DVD set gets frequent play, especially when I have the opportunity to introduce the show to a friend not familiar with the canceled television show. Strangers With Candy was one of the best things to happen to television in the past 20 years. Admittedly, I am a huge fan. I bought the DVD’s on their release dates and am geeky enough to listen and watch all the extras. So, I had some expectations set for this film when I had a chance to see it at the Sundance Film Festival.

Regrettably, I think the less familiar you are with the show; the more you might enjoy the movie. As the film progressed I experienced an odd feeling, a lot like the night back in middle-school when I had rented and first saw Evil Dead and Evil Dead II. The film isn’t exactly a prequel; it is more of a retelling. Like the translation of a book. Just as Bruce Campbell reprises his role from the original Evil Dead for the remake, most of the lead cast returns from the television series to be in the Strangers film. Luckily, there are some fresh changes to the film version of the SWC universe and it is always a treat for me to see my favorite cast members at their peek: Steven Colbert (Mr. Noblet), Amy Sedaris (Jerri Blank) and Gregory Hollimon (Principal Blackman), all at the top of their game. Sadly, many of the jokes and even exact lines were lifted directly from the series and regurgitated into the film version.

The movie starts out by giving us a montage recap of Jerri’s prison life prior to her release. After her release from prison, Jerri, 47 years old, decides to go back to her life prior to adopting her junkie-whore life-style. She attempts to pick up from where she “left off”: as a high school freshman living at home. This time, “doing all the wrong things the right way.” Unfortunately, her homecoming is met with the news that her mother is dead and her father has remarried a shrew before falling into a coma. Now, Jerri lives with her evil step mother and stepbrother (and Stew, the meat man) across the street from Flat Pointe High School. Jerri concocts a plan to excel in school in order to make her father proud enough to awake from his coma. Under the distracted eye of Mr. Noblet, the science teacher using the bible for a text book, Jerri finds inspiration to join the science fair team. She hopes winning the science fair might impress her father into consciousness. Unfortunately for Jerri and her team, Principal Blackman’s gambling has motivated him to ensure Flat Point wins the science fair by hiring a ringer to head up one of Flat Point High’s opposing science teams. Maybe with the help of the Asians and Indians, Jerri can win the science fair. Of course, she needs to get some nookie along the way and try to avoid old temptations. Most the sub-plot elements are more or less from the series. Oh yeah there are some odd cameos: Ian Holm, Matthew Broderick, Sarah Jessica Parker, Justin Theroux, Philip Seymour Hoffman and I might have missed others.

Despite the rehashing of old material, I enjoyed the film. It had some pacing problems but it had some very solid laughs. The audience I was with seemed to love it. It was crass and offensive, like the show, but it could have been pushed further for this film version. Like the series, the film reflects a creepy and demented after-school-special feel that I love. The film manages to be a bit darker in tone and actual aesthetic than the show ever was. The movie version of the school looks like it should be haunted.

To me, at its core, the show was always about a bunch of characters that are flawlessly self-absorbed and hold no importance for one another. Except for Jerri, who, despite her selfishness, desperately wants to “fit in” and find acceptance with those around her. The film manages to keep that core value of self-absorption from the show and that is what makes it work.

Although I enjoyed the film, the series was much more fun.

If you aren’t too familiar with the show, I recommend waiting to see the movie, then watch the Strangers with Candy Seasons 1-3 DVD’s.

The film was picked up for distribution by Warner Brothers’ Independent films division and should be released this Fall, just when the new season of shows begin on television.

If you know me you know that when it comes to the vampire subgenre I can usually take it or leave it. There are quite a few bloodsucker flicks I truly enjoy (Vampires, Blade, Bram Stoker’s Dracula), some I think are quite brilliant (Blade 2, Nosferatu the Vampyre) and some that I think are just corny fun (Queen of the Damned, The Lost Boys). Most others fall in the cracks somewhere and are pretty much forgotten once I eject the DVD (or at the very least, once I file my review for them.)

Vlad showed some promise, at least in the trailer and the press materials accompanying the DVD. Nothing that truly got me pumped, but there seemed to be enough going on that I thought I might have a pretty decent 90 minutes or so with the flick.

Thus, I ended up wanting to like Vlad a lot more than I actually did. And it’s difficult to really isolate the exact moment when the movie went sour for me. But somewhere around the time the titular vampire showed up the movie began to sag. And as it progressed, it completely lost me before the climax even unfurled.

The first half of the movie is genuinely interesting: A group of researchers are recruited by the mysterious dean of a Bucharest university (Brad Dourif) to enter the dark, eldritch Romanian wilderness to seek out information on the life of the infamous, and legendary Prince Vlad.

One of the researchers happens to hold in her possession a necklace that once belonged to the prince, which she intends to return to its rightful resting place. Of course, the nefarious dean really wants that necklace and will stop at nothing to get it. Eventually, Prince Vlad manifests himself, eager to get his hands on the hottie with his necklace, as does the spirit (?) of his long dead “true love.”

Here’s where things just get messy. What begins as an interesting supernatural adventure story devolves into a haphazard, uninspired jumble. I was totally digging the story and the likable characters (hell, even Billy Zane was kinda interesting), but once the actual object of their quest showed up and started wrecking havoc on their lives, it just got confusing and … well, boring, to be honest.

It’s nothing we haven’t seen before in a multitude of other vampire flicks (and which Francis Coppola pretty much sealed the crypt on in Bram Stoker’s Dracula), and Vlad is such an insipid, clichéd character, not to mention a bit overplayed by Francesco Quinn (I was more afraid that he was gonna chew the scenery rather than any of the characters’ necks), to care much about him. And let’s face it, in these movies, even though the head vampire is usually an inherently damned (and thus bitter) fella, it’s still important to relate to the guy. No luck here. He just doesn’t have any depth to him, and here that becomes the movie’s fatal flaw. (Although, for the sake of ballast, let me say that he’s nowhere NEAR as awful as that dude in Van Helsing.)

The cinematography and locations are superb, and occasionally sublime, considering the low budget they were working with. I even liked the score by Christopher Field. And I truly enjoyed a lot of the performances here. Usually these movies are stocked with generic college stereotypes (the stoner, the horny guy, the sexy bookworm, whatever) but these characters were actually interesting. There’s a scene before things get all hokey where they are sitting around a campfire smoking weed and getting to know each other that was very well acted, a genuine sense of warmth emanating from the cast.

I think director Sellers shows a lot of promise for future productions. And I’m sure that some of Vlad’s weaknesses can be blamed budgetary constraints. There was definitely a good movie in here somewhere, it just didn’t make it to the screen. He needs better material to work with. This story of the vampire pining for his long lost love has been done to death and even if he wants to delve back into the vampire subgenre (which I’ve heard he does) then I say go for something against the grain. There are still good stories to be told with these classic creatures; original, trailblazing stories even. And maybe next time out, if Sellers gets his hands on a truly brilliant idea, I think we could be in store for something much more succulent and moving than this film turned out to be.

So I’m keeping my eyes on future endeavors from Sellers and co. I’m not a big vampire fan, but I’m always interested in good, supernatural storytelling, of any kind. I think they’ve got it in ‘em. Better luck next time.