This is one Crank that was yanked a bit too hard this time…

2006 was a fantastic year in cinema. And I am not talking about the Academy Awards or anything. Truth be told, I can’t even think of one single movie that was nominated for anything that year… and I am pretty on top of that shit.

No, I am talking about the year that brought us Wayne Kramer’s chaotic Paul Walker vehicle, Running Scared, and also the film-making team of Neveldine/Taylor and their frenzied Crank. These two movies were out to prove that R-rated action extravaganzas didn’t have to have $200 million budgets. They just need a little vulgarity, ridiculousness, nudity, violence, and a significant body count to keep the interest flowing.

And they both do it pretty fucking well – Crank especially. If you haven’t seen this film by now (you fucking loser), we follow Chev Chelios (Jason Statham) as he runs around Los Angeles looking for an antidote to something called the Beijing Cocktail. Apparently some low-level thugs injected him with it and the only way he can stay alive is by keeping his adrenaline levels on the high.

So he kills people, drives cars through malls, fucks, shoots more people, cuts a dude hand off, yells, breaks a tv I’m too poor to afford, etc. And for as ridiculous as this movie sounds, it’s actually a really well-made film to boot.

For example, in some movies, people go swimming. A cut or two later, the characters are instantly dry. Or they are made to look wet but they really aren’t. There is a part in Crank where Chelios jumps into a pool, yells at some dude, then gets out. He is dripping wet as he gets out of the pool, walks down a hall, keeps walking – cut after glorious cut – and then finally makes his way out of the building, still dripping wet.

This movie couldn’t be further from plausible yet it also has the balls to rock continuity’s asshole?

Even the camera shots are glorious. And all this (and more) was done with a modest budget.

On top of that, the film did have a few real moments. He is in love with a girl, played by Amy Smart, who is as ditzy as a dodo bird on crack. Dwight Yoakam plays his doctor to a pretty serious degree, and even delivers the best (and perhaps most serious) line in the whole film, “You’re a good dude.” In context with the movie, it’s pretty fucking touching. It was these semi-serious moments that kept the film grounded. They sort of made you care about these characters way more than you should. This is what made this film work so well.

At the end, however, Chev falls out of a helicopter and (fake) dies.

I didn’t want this to end. I wanted him to get up and deliver more havoc. Sometimes, dreams really do come true. Only they turn into nightmares.

The lady and I went to a midnight screening of Crank: High Voltage at a drive-in movie theater in Tampa called Funland. If any movie was made for a drive-in, it’d be a Jason Statham movie. I had high-low hopes for this movie. Because how can they fuck up this formula?

Today’s History Lesson (4/2009)

They can fuck it up by not giving a shit about it. High Voltage is everything Crank wasn’t and much more. Gone is any shred of caring for the audience. Calling this movie over-the-top doesn’t define it enough. It’s shocking for shock sake – that’s it. It was made for a laugh, not for a purpose. It somehow makes all the characters you loved in the first one giant pieces of annoying shit. I hated Chelios and the Doctor within the first act.

Even the filmmaking techniques were a huge downgrade from the first one. I’m not saying the first film was Citizen Kane or anything, but at least they had something there. This film was probably made because Neveldine/Taylor’s last film came and went from theaters without anyone on the Earth seeing the fucking thing. So they needed some quick bread for their next feature.

If they did indeed need that, however, why not just try and make a good movie again?

But as far as moneymaking sequels go, this film is still a shit load better than, say, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. But that’s like saying your leaking hemerroid is better than mine.

Please do not let this be the beginning of an awful movie summer. And let’s hope Crank 3-D is better than this…

Perhaps my hopes were too high. Maybe I will like this movie better upon further evaluation. Time will only tell.

Top Ten Films of 2008

“I don’t love her, she kicked me in the face!” – Val Kilmer as Madmartigan in Ron Howard’s Willow (1988).

There is no excuse as to why my absence here (and pretty much every website I’ve written for) has been so long without any word of return. So I will come back the only way I know how… by doing my favorite thing.

The Next One Will Be Better… (1/2009)

Summing up the year in cinema for the six people in my life (both in real life and internet life) that still know I exist, and even care about what I have to say about cinema. Especially now that the Oscar nominations are out. This goes out to you… even though we are so far into January now that no one will care.

“Willow, this is war, not agriculture.” – Val Kilmer as Madmartigan in Ron Howard’s Willow (1988)

I find myself putting together this list during a voluntary viewing of Willow on DVD. Not a good movie by any stretch but what humorless bastard out there doesn’t get a kick out of hearing Val Kilmer calling Warwick Davis (a fellow little person) a ‘peck’? Makes me smile every time.

Without further ado, and blabbering, I bring you this list. This list consists of my personal favorites of the year and to those of you who know me best, you may find it somewhat surprising.

Top Ten Best Films of 2008

It’s a Bat-Man time, motherfuckers.

I’ve been a giant Batman fan since before I could remember but have been pretty disappointed with the way Hollywood treated him over the years. There was the schlock of the television program, starring Adam West, was as cheesy as they come. You know it, that show with the “Bam!” and “Splat!” shit written all over the place anytime there was a fight.

The late 80s brought Michael Keaton to the plate, to done the cape and cowl of Gotham’s vigilant superhero, with Tim Burton to direct. Danny Elfman provided the score and Jack Nicholson played The Joker. It was a pretty decent movie, considering most of the plot had nothing to do with the original story lines, but hey. Whatever. The best part though? The character of Harvey Dent was played by Billy Dee “Lando Calrissian” Williams, a non-white person. Made complete sense too, because even in the comics it was mildly obvious that Harvey Dent was in fact a non-Caucasian sort. He was a sense of optimism in Gotham’s mostly white populace. How can a city that metropolitan be that white? Two movies later, Williams was replaced by Tommy Lee Jones in Batman Forever, a giant piece of shit film if there ever was, only topped in awfulness by the next episode, Batman and Robin. Why make Harvey Dent a white guy again? I guess we’ll never know.

Batman was laid to rest for many, many years following. With a fuck-up like Batman and Robin, it would be a major challenge for anyone to bring Batman back to stature. I was kind of glad too – leave the Batman adventures to my mind. He was in a better place there.

Then Chris Nolan (of Memento fame) took on the challenge of directing a new Batman. The beginning of another franchise of Batman. With this news, I became excited. I loved all of his work because of the psychological nature of it all. That is what Batman needed – a psychological episode. I awaited this film rather excitedly… until I actually saw it. Batman Begins was far from being the piece of shit that the others were but it still didn’t get it right. They took one of the best bad guys ever – Scarecrow – and gave him the gloss-over. They tried to shove way too much into the film, ultimately ruining it’s chance for greatness. Instead of the psychological masterpiece I was waiting for my whole life, I instead got an unfocused film with too much of too little.

The things it did get right, however, it did so with great success. Christian Bale was a great Batman, Michael Caine was a fun Alfred, and Gary Oldman stole the show as Lt. Gordon. He is the best character in the film. But one could see where another movie may have ironed the flaws of the first out a little bit. It happened with X-Men. The first film was also an unfocused mess but X2 changed all of that and is no doubt one of the finest comic book movies ever. Then the third one came out and shit all over my dreams, but whatever.

So to say I was excited about The Dark Knight may be saying much. I wasn’t that pumped to see Batman fight The Joker again, even though the guy who is playing him just died. Even the trailer for this movie didn’t do anything for me. I went to watch it with the lowest of hopes.

…and the movie rocked my balls harder than anything in a long time. Sure, Heath Ledger is absolutely fucking amazing (I’d be happy to see him get a Nomination, and I’m not saying that simply because he is no more – this shit deserves it), but this movie is the Batman movie I was waiting for all of my life. It’s fucking angry, pissed off, miserable, emotional, corrupt, and so much more. Everything about it is perfect. And as many know, I usually hate comic movies (especially Spider-Man movies). But this movie is so much more than a comic movie. You owe it to yourself to see it.

Does this city ever turn this light off? (7/2008)

The Death of Special Effects: Stan Winston No More

Film geeks aside, the name Stan Winston might not mean all that much to you. But if you’ve ever seen Terminator, T2, Predator, Aliens or The Monster Squad, you have experienced Winston’s amazing skill with traditional effects. He created the Predator creature, the Terminator endoskeleton, the Queen Alien, and even the dinosaurs from Jurassic Park. He was a master at not using computer-generated effects. You watch something like T2 and compare it any modern piece of shit (like the new Indy or something), that puppetry looks so much more convincing. This guy even helped Iron Man look as good as it did.

He died a few a days ago. And with it, I’m sure the death of traditional (‘real’) effects will probably die with him. The world of cinema will probably be run with computer-generated effects all the more often. So movies will continue to look hollow and depth-less. Stan was the man (and I am not saying that because it rhymes). He will be missed.

The Immortal Stan Winston (6/2008)

“Get your ass to Mars…”

I saw Total Recall last night at the Universal Cineplex and I have to say… I think a chapter of my life is now complete. Actually, let me think about that for a second. The print wasn’t in the best of shapes. It was missing an entire scene. The scene with Quaid talks to Melina for the first time, in her room at the bar. She slaps him for some reason, then it cuts to Benny (the cab driver) who is rubbing a chick with three boobs and says, “Baby, you make me wish that I had three hands.” To which the three-breasted hooker replies, “You’re doing just fine with two.” That entire sequence was vanished from existence. My guess is that the print was too old and that particular section was badly damaged. So instead of a few weird chops in story, some smart projectionist took at the whole sequence as if it never happened at all.

That was really my only beef. I have a long history with this film. I was in 4th grade when this movie came out on video. One lonesome Friday night of that year, I stayed at my dad’s house. He was going out that night so he said he would rent me a movie to keep me company. Because really, VHS tapes do make the best babysitters. Regardless, my sadness of his absence was completely erased when he handed me a copy of Total Recall on video. When I saw Arnold Schwarzenegger’s face, with blue tint, I lit up like Richard Pryor’s crack pipe. I knew nothing of what was to come with the film. I wasn’t as film savvy back then as I am now. All I knew is that Arnold would be killing people, as he always did back then, and it would be glorious.

I put it in the VCR (that was the DVD player of the 80s for all you young kids) and sat down on the floor, indian style, staring up at the television anxiously awaiting the oncoming slaughter. “Shit, it looks like there is a preview. Fuck that, I want to see Arnold!” This VCR didn’t have a remote and I was way too lazy to get up to fast-forward. I’d rather have something to complain about.

The trailer began. It started with some cheesy music playing over what appeared to be a large robotic head. “What is this?” I thought. I kept staring… something about all this looked greatly familiar to my 9 year-old brain. It kept going. It was clear to me that the trailer was showing us a robot being constructed and this robot was familiar to me. This was going to be a teaser for another Terminator film.

The robot was then put into this giant case and some words read, “Cyborg Tissue Generation.” The machine opened back up and sure enough, Schwarzenegger came out, complete with one red eye. “T2″ then slammed across the machine and it was literally the first time I ever came. “Fuck Total Recall, I want T2!” For a brief second, I was upset at my dad for bringing me this crap instead of a new Terminator film. Before I had time to process that thought, more words sprung across the screen that would horrify me. “Summer 1991.”

“Wait, what? When is that?” I ran as fast as I could to calender. It was still 1990. I had months to wait for this movie. “Why would God do that to me?” I wondered. “Why would he tease me so?” You can see what I am talking about by clicking here.

I went back to the room with the VCR, looking at the TV in defeat. “You son of a bitch,” I said to it. After a few moments of mourning, I decided to hit the play button again, and check out this Total Recall shit.

To my surprise, the movie blew my 9 year-old mind away. This movie had enough blood and guts in it to keep my fragile little mind at ease. Plus, it had a chick with three boobs! What 9 year-old kid wouldn’t have a good time here? Total Recall is the best fucking babysitter in the entire world.

“Baby, you make me wish I had three hands.” (6/2008)

In other news, some of my doodles have been appearing in other places. For instance, I drew Joebecca a new header (see it here) and some Vaginale for Hole (see it here). And be a Pictures of Doom Facebook fan by clicking here. Hopefully that works.

Close Encounters of the Fatherless Kind

Last night, after a long screening of Sex and the City, I discovered that Close Encounters of the Third Kind was playing at midnight in the same theater (the Universal Cineplex at Universal Studios). I haven’t seen this movie in 10 plus years so now was definitely the time. Plus, when else would I have a chance to see it on the big screen? Sure, my throat was sore (cold coming on) and I was tired, but I was determined to press on.

I’ve seen a lot of old movies play at this theater (Jaws, Goodfellas, Psycho, to name a few). They run one or two every week – and they are prints – which is easily one of the only cool things left to do in Orlando. It was great to see those other films on the big screen (especially Jaws) but the prints often felt like they were as old as the movies themselves. But the print of Close Encounters was absolutely fucking gorgeous. The first reel had a few scratches throughout but the rest of the film looked as crisp as I had ever seen it.

The one thing I never really picked up from this movie was the overage of father abandonment. Encounters was written and directed by Steven Spielberg (based on an original screenplay by Paul Schrader of Taxi Driver fame) during the early part of his career. It’s clear the dude has some family sadness in his past but I never quite saw its influence so much as I did last night.

This movie almost has two story lines – one follows a mother (Melinda Dillon) and a fatherless son as they discover UFOs flying around their property and the other follows a family man (Richard Dreyfuss) who becomes infatuated with the same sight. This family man has some kids who need him, and become frustrated by his new-found interest (shaping mountains out of mash potatoes), with a wife who wants no part of it. I guess he finds his family life too boring. He instead seeks to the skies for fulfillment.

Watch the Skies (6/2008)

In the end, this dude climbs aboard the ship and the film ends. Over. That’s it. This guy, instead of fighting to win his family back, chooses life on another planet so simply. Did he not think about his children growing up fatherless? Perhaps this decision isn’t really a character flaw. Instead, it may simply be a choice many of us would have made. Curiosity often gets the best of us. Too bad it took this guy to space and left his family with nothing.

I never saw the film in this light before. Perhaps it was because I was too young. After the film ended last night, I can only say that I loved it that much more. Too bad Spielberg doesn’t make films like this anymore – with real effects and interesting characters. That isn’t to say Munich wasn’t fucking amazing or anything but that new Indiana Jones movie hurt my eyes. Shitty green-screening, CG, etc. Everyone says, “Did you expect a movie made by George Lucas and Steven Spielberg to NOT have CG?”

No, I did, I just wish it didn’t look like balls. Remember how good Lord of the Rings looked? Peter Jackson knows how to make it look good. Remember how good Jurassic Park looked. Steven Spielberg knew how to make it look good. What the fuck happened? But I digress.

Starting tonight, and running for the next week, that same theater is showing Total Recall at midnight. That’s awesome because I didn’t see it during its theatrical run. But you know what’s better? My last night in Orlando will be spent watching Terminator fucking 2: Judgment Day at that same theater. I doubt life could be better.

What’s Your Excuse? – 2008

This entry is recycled – it was a piece written for Film Threat a few years ago. It’s a sad story with some pictures I drew with Microsoft Paint. Now that my artistry has matured and such, I figured to revisit the piece. Firstly, you should check out the original by clicking these pretty words. Here is the original text for those too lazy to click. There are also two examples of each picture, the top one being the older one and the bottom being the remastered version. Think of this as the George Lucas of blogging. Remaking my own shit, thinking it’ll be better when in reality, it won’t be…

Big Trouble in Little China (4/2006)

Big Trouble in Little China Redux (5/2008)

People sure were stupid in 1986. In July of that year, John Carpenter’s amazing film of adventure and intrigue, Big Trouble in Little China, was released in cinemas. The sad thing there was no one really saw it. It was a “bomb” if you will. Not “Tha Bomb” (although the film is indeed Tha Bomb), it was a regular bomb, like the kind that dude in the woods used to make and mail to people.

This movie is so good. But no one saw it. 20 years later, people are still just as stupid. Slither leaked out of theaters faster than a blink of the eye, yet, Scary Movie 4 is pulling in an astonishing amount of coin. I guess the point of that story is we (the audience I mean) will always be a little dumb. That’s what makes being alive so much fun.

I have an excuse for missing Big Trouble in Little China in its theatrical glory. It was 1986, a year I’ll never forget, and perhaps one of the worst years in my life. I was about 5 years old then. My parents’ tumultuous relationship was coming to a close. They divorced that year. I don’t remember caring all that much about the separation (even then I thought divorced ruled because people that shouldn’t be together should indeed go their own ways) but I did care because I wouldn’t see my dad everyday anymore.

Tears of ‘86 (4/2006)

Tears of ‘86 Redux (5/2008)

I was indeed sad. A few months after that happened, in a winter month, my good dog (a German Shepherd for you dog people) decided to call it quits. I walked out to his little doggie house to give him some food and water and I found him lying on his side. “Hey Corky, you okay?” I asked. “No, I don’t feel too good today,” he replied. I went back into the house and told my mom. She then called my dad. I then went back outside to kick it with Corky, who was still just lying there on the ground, motionless except for his chest moving in and out as he inhaled and exhaled.

My dad arrived moments later with his old Nissan Sentra station wagon. He said, “This doesn’t look too good Mike. I am going to take him to the vet now.” He rolled Corky up in a blanket and put him in the back seat. My dad then hugged me and said, “You might want to say goodbye to him now.” I knew when he said it that I would never see Corky again. I looked into the window and Corky looked back at me. I gave him a little wave, then watched my dad drive off. I never did see Corky again.

No More Corky (4/2006)

No More Corky Redux (5/2008)

1986 was indeed a terrible year. My dad and mom split, my dog died, my first hamster died (I left that part out on purpose) and Big Trouble in Little China was financially screwed. Being only five years-old, growing up with a single working mom, I never found a ride to theater that year to see Big Trouble. I was sad.

The following year or so, HBO decided to play the hell out of this movie. Thankfully, my mom still had HBO, so I watched it every time it was on. My mom used to actually get angry because everytime she came home from work, I was watching a crappy VHS dub she made for me. I must have seen that movie 237892344 times by now. And I love every second of it, still to this day.

To John Carpenter and Kurt Russell, I am sorry that I didn’t see your film in the theater. I highly doubt my 1986 dollars would have helped you or the film anyway, but it’s the thought that counts. I have since purchased it on VHS and DVD (the awesome 2-disc spectacular) to make up for the trouble.

When are you guys going to get back together and make another good movie? Do it for Corky.

Isn’t that quite a tale? Notice how my art skills really haven’t improved much over the years?

Indiana Jones and the Raping of My Eye Sockets

You didn’t think this was for a coherent plot, did you? (5/2008)

Before you little bitches cry, note that there are oncoming spoilers. Don’t read any further if you expect to be “surprised” by the shit storm film that is Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. There was enough rodent action in this movie for it to be labeled Caddyshack 3…

There was a midnight screening last night of the new Indy flick. As you know, my love for midnight movies is huge, as it is for a few mates of mine. We were 5 last night. We hit up a local bar, where they had Coors Light cans for a dollar each, and drank a few. Needless to say, we were pumped. The trailer of the film promised some cheesy pulp action. Plus, it couldn’t be worse than Temple of Doom, right?

Wrong. This movie is a computer-animated nightmare, with failed comedic timing, bad characters (Cate Blanchett), uninspired action set pieces, elements that have introductions but no conclusions (I seem to recall something about psychic abilities) and did I mention really fucking awful CG? This is the kind of movie that early reviewers seem to praise, only for the fact that, well, “It’s an Indy film.”

That’s like saying that Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones is a really good Star Wars film. In fact, these two film sort of compare rather easily. There is some hideous romance angle, a lack of climax (an interesting one anyway), and a slew of messy action scenes. George Lucas loves to fuck you.

There was word around the internet campfire that amazing writer Frank Darabont (Shawshank Redemption, The Mist) wrote a draft of the screenplay, but was ultimately turned down by none other than Lucas himself (though Spielberg liked it). When said interweb phantoms got their hands on the script, it was noted that it dealt a lot of with “aliens” and “area 51.”

That’s pretty fucking interesting. Regardless, David Koepp (Spider-Man – fuck) took over the writing. And, it’s exactly what you’d expect from that dude. Did I mention he also scripted that awful Cruise-filled War of the Worlds a few years ago? But I digress.

So I watched this movie and what did I see? “Aliens” and “area 51″ (as well as swinging monkeys and giant ants) – the same shit these certain internet fags mentioned was in the earlier script but was hated on. “Indiana Jones and aliens? That’s lame!” some would say. But those same internet bastards, who wrote of the potential badness of the earlier screenplay, loved every miserable ounce – aliens and all. How could that first script been any worse than this?

I want another Indiana Jones movie. Not because I want the raping of a cherished franchise to continue, but because I want to see Indy again. He wasn’t here, in this movie. It was someone else. Like how the John McClane we all know and love was absent from Live Free or Die Hard. That movie felt so out of place, much like this one. This was not the Indy I loved.

Who knew that the only fucking person on the planet who could actually re-ignite an old franchise properly is Sylvester Stallone? He did it two times – Rocky and Rambo. Sylvester “my career has been in the shitter since Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot – Stallone should have made the last Die Hard, the new Indy, and any other franchise that wishes to start up again.

Iron Man is still the summer movie to beat. I never thought that I, hater of most superhero movies, would pick one as the best movie of the summer. What is wrong with the world?

Speed Racer and the Epileptic Seizure…

Last Thursday, I attended a midnight screening at an IMAX theater (that’s a theater with a screen bigger than your mom’s ass – it’s huge) of Speed Racer. The film was directed by the Brothers Wachowski (or is it ’siblings’ now that one of them has become a woman?), the same duo behind the lame Matrix trilogy.

The movie was nothing shy of awful, which was to be expected, but I still went and saw it due to my undying love for midnight movies. Plus I’ve never seen a movie on an IMAX screen before. Fucking thing is huge. It was like I was watching a movie on the side of a building. HUGE. The main problem with said screen was the actual motion picture showing on it. To say Speed Racer’s visuals are seizure-inducing is being rather kind. Speed Racer never stopped moving. It was like the Wachowskis put a children’s kaleidescope in front of the camera before shooting. Imagine looking through a kaleidescope for 2 hours and change. Actually, imagine looking through a kaleidescope the size of a building for 2 hours… that’s no good for business. In fact, I still see it every time I close my eyes. And it’s 4 days later…

Christmas Trees Aren’t This Flashy (5/2008)

“Hey You Guys!”

1985 brought us some good theatrical times. I mean, I was only 4 years-old at the time, but I was already in love with the moving pictures. A year or two later, my dad brought home a rental copy of Richard Donner’s now infamous classic, The Goonies. It told the story of a bunch of suburban youths searching for a pirate named One Eyed Willy and his treasure. But that really wasn’t where the film succeeded. The best element was a beastly character named Sloth. He had a crazy shaped head, ears that flapped like angel wings, with eyes in odd positions. Sloth was played by John Matuszak, a former defensive end for the Oakland Raiders. Sadly, Matuszak died 4 years later due to heart failure or something. How sad. Here’s to you, Sloth.

Sloth Love Chunk (4/2008)