Nov
15
“JCVD” Review
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Though it sounds like a venereal disease, “JCVD” is actually a Jean-Claude Van Damme film. Van Damme’s career has been on a bit of a downturn of late. I believe his last theatrically released film was “Universal Soldier: The Return” in ‘99. Ever since, he’s kept working, churning out one DTV entry after another, not unlike another fading martial arts superstar, Steven Seagal.
To be fair, Van Damme was never on par with the marble-mouthed giants of action cinema — Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone. He knocked out a few moderately successful actioners at his peak, my personal favorite being “TimeCop.” But he never commanded a $20 million paycheck, nor spoke a line of a heavily-accented dialogue that’s still quoted by young men to this very day. Fun fact: Van Damme was originally cast as the titular beastie in “Predator” before he walked off the troubled production and the character’s design was dramatically reinvented by the late Stan Winston.
“JCVD” explores the price of Van Damme’s fame, or lack thereof. It opens with an unbroken take of our hero fighting his way through some war-torn nondescript cityscape before the set begins to fall apart. He’s then insulted by the film’s director, a non-English-speaking wunderkind who throws darts at a picture of Hollywood between takes; it’s a brilliant encapsulation of how I imagine these cheapie productions are actually made. Van Damme’s personal life is no picnic, either. During a custody hearing, his ex-wife’s attorney uses Van Damme’s oeurve as evidence that he’s an unfit parent. On top of that, he’s broke, and a role he was up for just went to — you guessed it — Steven Seagal.
So he returns to his native Brussels, and when he goes to pick up a wire transfer at the post office, he finds himself in the middle of a robbery. The crooks take him hostage before getting the bright idea to make it look like Van Damme masterminded the heist himself. What follows is a deconstruction of Van Damme’s action hero persona. His high-kicking becomes fodder for a hostage-taker’s entertainment, and at one point, Van Damme shatters the fourth-wall, addressing the audience directly in a rambling, tearful monologue about his celebrity.
Between this film and the upcoming “My Name is Bruce,” I’m beginning to think a new sub-genre is being born: one of self-loathing cult icons exploring the implosion of their careers against a high-concept backdrop. Van Damme’s never been accused of being a great actor, but he’s in the role of his life here: himself. And he gives it his all. I don’t think “My Name is Bruce” will be anywhere near as bold.
I’d like to see this reinvention of Van Damme lead to bigger and better things for the star. I don’t want him return to DTV features after putting so much of himself — literally — into “JCVD.” How about a theatrically-released “TimeCop” sequel?
-Brad Lohan
Nov
12
Am I Still a Fan of Bruce Campbell?
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“My Name is Bruce” opens at the Nuart in late-December. The trailer is stunningly — absolutely stunningly — god-awful. I’ve seen it upwards of a dozen times now, and it’s about as painful to watch as the preview for “Bride Wars.” The film casts Bruce Campbell as himself and pits him against a real-life B-movie monster in a backwater Oregon town. It’s winking and meta and all that business. It’s also redundant. Bruce Campbell essentially plays himself in every movie, the one recent exception being “Bubba Ho-Tep,” in which Campbell played a bed-ridden Elvis in a nursing home who takes on a mummy.
“Bubba Ho-Tep” sucks, by the way. It’s boring and simply coasts on its concept, like it’s the most ingenious thing in the universe when it’s not.
At any rate, I’d like to think of myself as a fan of Bruce Campbell. I’ve seen “Army of Darkness” more times than any human being probably should. I’ve read his autobiography “If Chins Could Kill” twice. I’ve even been insulted by the man himself — at a screening of “Bubba Ho-Tep,” no less — because of my geekdom; I consider that to be the ultimate autograph. Nonetheless, I still think “My Name is Bruce” looks like a pile.
And they’re now making a sequel.
CHUD.com reports that the positive buzz on “My Name is Bruce” has convinced producers to put a follow-up on the fast-track. Really? The movie’s L.A. premiere is more than a month away, and it’ll be playing on exactly one screen. Yet they’re already developing a sequel. I guess I wouldn’t mind so much if the movie didn’t look like the typical DTV fodder I never, ever rent.
Campbell’s only as good as his material, and when he’s working with Sam Raimi, he’s a golden god. It’s unfortunate that he hasn’t crossed over to the mainstream like Raimi. I think most people recognize him as the guy in the Old Spice TV spots. Why his oeuvre has turned off casting directors is anyone’s guess. But movies that look as crummy as “My Name is Bruce” certainly won’t catapult him to the A-list, nor reignite my waning fandom.
-Brad Lohan
Oct
31
You know what I’m tired of hearing? I’m tired of hearing that “The Exorcist” is the scariest movie in whole wide world. It’s not, especially not if you’re an atheist or even one of those fence-sitting wussy agnostics. Then the movie is just a crashing bore. And let’s be honest. “The Exorcist” is a phenomenally boring movie. I finally sat through the entire leviathan earlier this year after having seen only bits and pieces of it years ago with my jittery college roommate, a Mormon who was absolutely terrified by the notion of demonic possession. He had little to fear if you ask me. I hated sharing a room with that buttwipe. I couldn’t imagine Satan wanting to share a body with him.
Anyway, I’m getting off track. What I’d actually like to discuss, apart from my dislike of “The Exorcist” and its overwhelming popularity, are the lists that pop up on the Internet around this time of year, lists of the “best” horror movies. They’re all so samey and dull. Most of the flicks on them are older than I am. That doesn’t necessarily discount their quality. Make no mistake, I don’t think pop culture only became valid on August 12th, 1979, and any movie made before my date of birth is irrelevant. I am, however, sick of seeing a 35-year-old movie like “The Exorcist” as a chart-topper on all these lists when there have been plenty of scary movies made rather recently. What’s more, some of are actually watchable.
So if you’re thinking about throwing a Halloween party and want to screen some genuine fright flicks, ones that won’t have you reaching for the remote so you can fast-forward to the “good parts,” here are some modern horror classics, listed in no particular order:
The Mist: Writer-director Frank Darabont, the guy Mick Garris secretly wishes he could be, adapts another Stephen King story for the screen. Unlike his previous efforts (”The Shawshank Redemption” and “The Green Mile”), this one’s a horror flick about a group of people trapped in a grocery store by a strange mist that rolls into town and is seemingly loaded with Lovecraftian beasties. The film was released theatrically in color, but one of the DVD special features is the option to watch it in black-and-white, the version that I prefer. “The Mist” is a great film that I hope is finding an audience on video; it sank like a stone at the box office because the Weinstein Company stupidly released it the day before Thanksgiving. And it has one of the best “Oh, s***!” endings I’ve ever seen.
The Descent: Neil Marshall’s follow-up to “Dog Soldiers” is about an all-female group of spelunkers who find themselves trapped in a cave with a bunch of blind, albino freakshows — each with a taste for human flesh. The claustrophic arena is scary in and of itself: the Survivor Girl becomes stuck in a tunnel my cat would have a hard time squeezing through; another girl’s hands are shredded by a rope; and yet another girl suffers a gruesome compound fracture. This is all before the monsters even show up. Then all hell really breaks loose. I actually prefer the American version to the one released in the UK. Of course, the UK release was redubbed the “unrated” version when the movie landed on DVD and simply has an additional scene after the final scare, one that’s a little esoteric and sort of unnecessary. I’d suggest just stopping the movie after the final scare; you’ll know it when you see it.
Planet Terror: The first half of Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez’s “Grindhouse” isn’t all that scary really, but “Planet Terror” is a great splatter film. Rodriguez’s films have an energy and a sly sense of humor that’s almost always appealed to me. Here, he’s clearly having a ball, putting his own spin on the exhausted zombie/viral outbreak sub-genre. This being a “Grindhouse” movie, the story doesn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense (a military platoon unleashes a zombie virus in a small Texas town for some reason or another), but that’s sort of beside the point. What’s important to Rodriguez is recreating the experience of seeing an exploitation movie — one that’s thoroughly scratched, missing a reel and swimming in blood and gore. And he does. Rodriguez brings some of today’s technology to a film that’s supposed to be a throwback to obscure B-pictures of the ’70s. Rose McGowan’s assault rifle for a leg is clearly achieved with CGI. But griping about the use of sophisticated special effects and not the ultra-low-budget approach taken by the exploitation wunderkinds of yesteryear would be like lamenting ILM’s work on the “Indiana Jones” movies, which were inspired by the Republic serials from the ’30s.
28 Days Later: Speaking of zombie/viral outbreak movies, Danny Boyle breathed new life into the rotting corpse of the sub-genre with this film. Some folks think that Zack Snyder’s remake of “Dawn of the Dead” is a worthy successor to George A. Romero’s classic; they’re dead wrong. “28 Days Later” reinvents the zombie film for the 21st century. Shot almost entirely with digital cameras, save for the final scene, the movie is set a month after the outbreak of “Rage” virus in England. Bike messenger Jim wakes up in the hospital from a coma, not knowing what’s happened outside the hospital doors. Confused and alone, he wanders through the empty streets of London until a horde of fast-moving “infected” find him. The way Boyle portrays the infected as snarling, red-eyed vessels of intense hatred is utterly terrifying. Traditional shambling zombies that groan and bite you if you get to close aren’t anywhere near as scary as these sonsabitches. I’ve read a lot of blather about how the film falls apart in its third act, once Jim and his two fellow survivors encounter a platoon of British soldiers with dubious intentions. But I think Boyle is saying something about the breakdown of our civilization, how it’s not necessarily going to be caused by some external “other,” rather by our own bastard selves.
Shaun of the Dead: Zombie movies have been all the rage for the past 5 years or so. What can I say? This one’s at least a comedy, an approach not often taken. Comedy and horror are a difficult mash-up. Sam Raimi can do it in his sleep, evidenced by “Evil Dead II: Dead by Dawn” and its sequel, “Army of Darkness.” Edgar Wright’s “Shaun of the Dead” is a worthy successor to Raimi’s spook-a-blasts. The script for the film, co-written by star Simon Pegg, is as sharp a piece of writing as I’ve seen in any genre recently. Wright brings a certain flair to his direction that emphasizes the humor over the scares; it’s why the film is grouped with my other comedies and not my horror flicks on my DVD shelf. But it’s still a better zombie movie than George A. Romero’s last two clunkers. It has a respect and appreciation for the genre that movies like the stunningly overrated “Dawn of the Dead” remake lack. It also has character. Pegg’s Shaun is a recently dumped electronics store assistant manager, one with little to no ambition beyond spending his evenings at the local watering hole, throwing back a pint or two with his friend, Ed (Nick Frost). That it takes a zombie outbreak to get him to accept a little responsibility and try to win back his ex-girlfriend. The setup provides for plenty of laughs and considerable gore. Still, this is definitely a movie you can sneak past that one person in your life who doesn’t typically like zombie movies.
Since I’m moving tomorrow, all my DVDs are boxed up. I haven’t watched even half of the movies I’d planned on seeing in the days leading up to October 31st. It’s been a busy month. But you could do a lot worse than what I’ve listed above. Have a Happy Halloween…even if you decide I’m full of bunk and rent “The Exorcist” anyway.
-Brad Lohan
Oct
11
“Clue” at the Nuart
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Damn, it was windy last night. Los Angeles doesn’t have much in the way of weather all that often, but when it does, the weather always serves as a reminder why I moved here in the first place. Waiting in line outside the Nuart for the midnight screening of “Clue,” I was buffeted by heavy winds for a good 45 minutes. It was cold, too, not freezing cold, but cold enough. I really began to question my sanity, putting up with crap weather to see a movie I already own on DVD and have seen twice before at the Nuart in ‘06 and ‘07.
But seeing “Clue” at the Nuart is the thing to do…if you’re into that sort of thing. The theater has been screening the film around Halloween for seven years now with their “Rocky Horror Picture Show” shadow cast, Sins O’ the Flesh, performing the movie live in front of the screen. It’s not exactly an experience you can replicate at home. Considering the screening was sold out, apparently quite a few people dig it.
“Clue” the movie, from what I understand, wasn’t terribly popular when it was originally released. It later found an audience on video and become one of those movies you’re very likely to stumble upon while channel surfing on a Sunday afternoon. Based on the board game, the film is a whodunit set in the mid-’50s, where a colorful cast of characters tries to solve a murder in a Victorian mansion. It’s cleverly written and almost flawlessly acted. Lee Ving as Mr. Boddy isn’t quite on par with the rest of the ensemble, and the shadow cast has a great gag with cue cards during one of Madeline Kahn’s weaker line-readings near the film’s end. Some people take issue with Lesley Ann Warren’s pronunciation of the word “secrets.” As far as I’m concerned, in the dress she’s wearing, she can say it however she wants.
The movie is a modern classic. It’s endlessly quotable; Tim Curry’s Wadsworth, though not a character in the game, manages to steal the film as the butler with an unusual amount of knowledge about how it all happened; and the three endings are also a great sendup of the mechanics of the game with players making suggestions using different characters, rooms and weapons.
At any rate, I think I’ve seen “Clue” enough times at the Nuart. Three is plenty. I can hardly be called clueless.
-Brad Lohan
Oct
8
“Evilspeak” at the Silent Movie Theater
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I’d never been to the Silent Movie Theater before. To be honest, I’m not much of a fan of silents. I prefer talkies. I am, however, planning to see “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” on Halloween at the Nuart. That it’s a horror film balances out the fact it’s also a silent movie.
“Evilspeak,” believe it or not, isn’t a silent movie. Released in 1982, the film stars Clint Howard as a bullied young cadet at a military academy who happens upon some old Satanic texts. He uses a state-of-the-art Apple computer — one roughly the size of a dorm fridge — to translate the unholy bible and summons an evil spirit to help him get revenge on his tormentors.
So why the hell is a “Carrie” ripoff playing at the Silent Movie Theater, you ask? Well, Cinefamily has for the past year or so been screening all manner of talkies in an effort to put asses in seats at the movie house. I must not be the only one in L.A. who generally avoids silent films. But I love a good horrorshow.
“Evilspeak” is great to watch with an audience. And the auditorium was close to being sold out. Mr. Howard and the director were there for a Q&A after the film. Howard has doubtless done these sorts of things hundreds of times; he remembered the shoot like it was last week. Some of his anecdotes (”Some of [the pigs] caught on fire!”) were fantastic. It’s easy to see why he has a cult following. I spoke to him briefly before the screening, asking if he was in line for the bathroom. He said he was not. Yep, kids, I talked to Clint Howard.
The film in and of itself is probably better than you’d expect something called “Evilspeak” would be. I think it’s still a bit draggy, though. The movie opens with a beheading that match cuts to a soccer ball soaring through the air. It’s just difficult to sustain that level of technical brilliance for 80 minutes. Howard’s character Coopersmith doesn’t become possessed until the final reel. Then he floats around the inside of a church in some kind of trance, lopping people’s heads off with a broadsword. I wanted more of that throughout the film.
On a completely unrelated note, I noticed that you can rent out the Silent Movie Theater for your wedding. If I ever meet someone who found that idea to be as awesome as I do, I’d marry that girl. I wonder if I could get Clint Howard to preside over the ceremony.
-Brad Lohan
Oct
5
Halloween Mediocre Nights
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Last year and the year before that, I had an excellent time at Universal Studios’ Halloween Horror Nights. This year, not so much. Like many of the horror movies the event is based upon, it had some good moments, but at times it was a bit too draggy or simply downright boring.
I went with a buddy of mine from work, which was definitely a saving grace. I hadn’t minded being alone so much the previous two years, since it’s a little scarier that way. This time around, I probably would’ve lost my damn mind, not having anyone to B.S. with between some of the more tepid attractions.
Now, don’t get me wrong. There were some great mazes; Friday the 13th: Camp Blood, A Nightmare on Elm Street: Home Sweet Hell, and the Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Back in Business were all top notch. Beyond that, the only other really good reason to go is the elaborate theming and the chainsaw-wielding costumed characters who lurk in every corner of the park. I loved walking through the section of the Upper Lot that’s made to look like a zombie plague has broken out, or seeing the bullet-riddled, reanimated corpse of Tony Montana from “Scarface” shambling around.
I was just let down by the stunt show, “SlaughterWorld 3,” as well as the Backlot Tour — two attractions that I’d love to pieces in ‘06 and ‘07. The former felt the third installment of any trilogy, forced and uneven. The latter took us on a walking tour of a portion of the backlot, but the path was teeming with slow-moving, yellow-bellied tourists, making it one incredibly long slog with too few scares. I said at one point, “This feels like the f***ing 405!”
The event is only 4 hours long, an ongoing sticking point for me. It’s a mathematical impossibility to do everything, unless you have a Front-of-the-Line Pass. I still haven’t seen Chucky’s Insult Emporium, though it’s been running for the past three years, because there’s nowhere to fit it in among all the other attractions. In retrospect, we should’ve skipped SlaughterWorld. Of course, it took us 40 merciless minutes to get into the park because security’s tighter than LAX. That was a colossal time-suck, and it was just to walk through a friggin’ turnstile.
What I think Universal should do is admit about half of their usual sellout capacity into the park and host the event on twice as many nights. That would split the wait-times for everything (theoretically) in two. Everyone would have a better shot at doing everything and maybe even some things twice. What’s more, if you do something that’s the pits, you didn’t just flush 45 minutes to an hour of your evening down the toilet.
At any rate, a weaker than usual Halloween Horror Nights is still better than none at all. It’s unrealistic to expect everything to go off without a hitch, I suppose. They’d just raised the bar so high the previous two years, I was hoping for no less than perfection. But just like the churro I ate last night, the event is becoming a little stale.
-Brad Lohan
Sep
20
“Fright Night” at the Nuart
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It’d been something like 15 years since I’d originally seen “Fright Night.” I was just getting into horror, and the USA Network was my one-stop shop for all manner of things that go bump. I did a lot of catching up on mid-’80s scare-flicks in my early adolescence, not that I can remember much of what I saw all that well on late-night basic cable. That said, “Fright Night” was a movie that I remember having seen, and not much else.
So last night when the Nuart screened the film, I sort of was going in blind. There was a buzz in the audience, as several members of the cast and crew were there. Tim Sullivan — director of “2001 Maniacs,” one of the worst movies I’ve seen at the Nuart to date — did a brief introduction before the film, calling out all the actors and filmmakers who were in attendance. I think the editor probably got the most tepid applause. Vampire villain Chris Sarandon unfortunately couldn’t make it to the screening but had sent a video message that played before the film; they had to run it twice since there was no audio the first time. There was even a camera crew at the screening. They went all out for this one.
The film itself is pretty okay. I think it has a great first act but limps along for much of the middle section. The climax is a little long-ish for a movie like this, too. It’s definitely enjoyable with a packed house, but if it’s a movie you haven’t grown up on and can easily overlook its flaws — like I can with “Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter” — you might be a little puzzled as to why some people are so nuts over the film.
It has a great concept: a teenage horror movie buff (William Ragsdale) thinks his next-door neighbor (Sarandon) is a vampire and teams up with a late-night spookshow host (Roddy McDowall) to stop him. And I liked how the film actually follows all the “rules” of vampire lore instead of subverting them like the Bush Administration does with the Constitution. Too many vampire movies — even my beloved “Blade” films — try a more “realistic” approach to the material rather than just resigning themselves to the fact that, yes, everything pop culture has taught you about vampires’ strengths and weaknesses is true.
It certainly saves you gobs of exposition.
After the film, there was a Q&A. The movie had started late, and William Ragsdale pointed out that it was almost 3:30 in the morning, and we were all still there — 23 years after the movie had been released — talking about it. Some people might say that’s pretty frightening.
-Brad Lohan
Sep
14
“Child’s Play” DVD Review
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Happy 20th birthday, Chucky! It seems like only yesterday I was too much of a sissy to watch the first “Child’s Play.” It’s pretty amazing that a possessed Good Guy doll is almost old enough to drink. That the first film still holds up, probably better than the latter two sequels, is even more amazing.
I think I’d seen the first “Child’s Play” only once before when I was about 12 or 13. It’s a fairly straightforward horror film, not like the sequels which are basically send-ups of the killer doll horror subgenre. But the original “Child’s Play” actually taps into every parent’s fear that they’re son or daughter is really a budding psychopath.
In the film, Catherine Hicks — most famous for being in the “Star Trek” movie that non-fans describe as “the one with the whales” — plays a single mother who buys her son Andy (Alex Vincent) a Good Guy doll for his birthday. Unfortunately, the doll, who calls himself Chucky, is actually possessed with the spirit of a serial killer (Academy Award winner Brad Dourif) named Charles Lee Ray. Ray, it seems, knows a thing or two about voodoo and when he became mortally wounded during a toy store shootout with grizzled cop Mike Norris (Chris Sarandon), he passed his soul into a doll until a more suitable host body can be found.
I love this kind of stuff.
It should be pointed out that the magic spell Ray casts on the doll for soul transference doesn’t work in real life. I tried it on my cat, and we did not swap bodies.
At any rate, “Child’s Play” is one of those rare gems of the slasher genre, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. Audiences were tired of the endless “Friday the 13th” and “A Nightmare on Elm Street” and “Halloween” sequels by the late-’80s. But “Child’s Play” brought something new to the table. What if your favorite childhood toy was also a mass murderer? It’s like recasting E.T. with the Xenomorph from “Alien.” I think it’s a brilliant approach. Four sequels have since been made, and the inevitable remake has recently been announced.
It seems like you can’t keep a Good Guy down.
-Brad Lohan
Sep
7
“Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter” Review
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After three successful “Friday the 13th” films, Paramount decided to end the franchise on a high note. Movie four, “Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter,” was originally intended to lower the curtain on Jason Voorhees’ stalk-and-slash career. That being said, seven more “Friday the 13th” movies have since been made with an eighth — produced by Meat Loaf video wunderkind Michael Bay — set for release early next year.
Still, it’s hard to top “Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter.” The Nuart screened the film last Friday as well as a mind-blowingly bad short film called “In the Wall” about a guy who accidentally kills his pregnant wife and tries hiding her body, well, in the wall. I’ve had no luck with short films of late.
The less said about “In the Wall,” the better. Rather, this is a review of “Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter,” one of my favorite entires in the franchise. It parts from the conventions of the earlier films, introducing a young, Robert Urich lookalike named Rob (E. Erich Anderson), the brother of one of Jason’s previous victims. Where most characters in these movies are quick to assume Jason is long dead, Rob knows Jason’s still out there and comes equipped to kill him. I like the idea of some grieving family member coming after Jason. I also like how Rob isn’t the guy who takes him out. Rather, Rob’s cut down with some gardening tools, and probably the only character in the series who narrates his own demise: “He’s killing me! He’s killing me!”
A quick note to horror screenwriters: show, don’t tell.
Another way the film departs from previous installments is the inclusion of the Jarvis family. Tommy Jarvis, played by a young Corey Feldman in this film, is a super-sophisticated makeup effects guru, a character bit that’s paid off in a very unusual way at the film’s climax. His sister Trish is about ten years too old to still be playing a teenager, but she’s nice to look at nonetheless. Their mother disappears from the film after all hell starts to break loose. It’s implied that Jason gets the jump on her, but her body doesn’t become part of the corpse menagerie that Jason creates in the final reel.
Of course there are your typical dumb teenagers in this film — among them is George McFly himself, Crispin Glover. My favorite is the sleazy Samantha, played by Judie Aronson. Her comeuppance, getting stabbed through an inflatable raft while out for a swim, was apparently a right bastard to shoot with temperatures near freezing and her being completely naked. I applaud Ms. Aronson’s commitment to her craft.
There are some clever kills in this one. A guy gets stabbed in the back of the head through a projector screen; another guy gets a harpoon to the man-parts and hoisted into the air; Crispin Glover gets a corkscrew through the hand and a butcher knife to the face; we see a girl get impaled in silhouette during a flash of lightning (an arty kill, that one); and Jason himself takes a machete to the side of his head, falls on top of it, then slides down the blade. Oh, I almost left out the guy who gets a hacksaw to the throat and his head twisted 180 degrees.
Makeup artist Tom Savini went all out for “The Final Chapter.” He was also on the first film, so it seemed fitting for him to do the effects for what was thought to be the last. It’s no coincidence the young hero’s name is Tommy, in a none too subtle nod to the makeup effects wizard.
Speaking of Tommy Jarvis, “The Final Chapter” is the first of three films that feature the character, though played by a different actor in each one. Trish is written out of parts five and six, but it is interesting to see Tommy’s evolution in a franchise not known for character development. Movie four ends with a chilling shot of young Tommy, sort of leaving the door open for a sequel in which he takes up Jason’s mantle. But after the uneven fifth film, “A New Beginning” — the one with a vengeful paramedic(!) donning the familiar hockey mask and carving people up — the filmmakers decided audiences were only on board with these films so long as Jason’s the one stacking up the bodies.
The series began experiencing diminishing returns at the box office after “The Final Chapter.” Each subsequent film has some gimmick, from the imposter in the fifth to Jason’s brief visit to the Big Apple in the eighth. I can manage to wring some entertainment value out of even the weaker entries. But “The Final Chapter” is really where the franchise reached its apex, thanks in no small part to Crispin Glover’s moves on the dance floor.
-Brad Lohan
Sep
4
“Starship Troopers 3: Marauder” Review
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This review is about a month late. “Starship Troopers 3: Marauder” — a DTV effort, like movie two in the franchise — hit DVD the first week of August. I came this close to buying it, being a ginormous fan of the original “Starship Troopers” and all. But “Starship Troopers 2: Hero of the Federation” is so unrepentantly awful, rumor has it that John McCain considered it as his running mate. At any rate, I instead added it to my Netflix queue. Last night, it finally came in the mail.
Well…”Marauder” isn’t as bad as “Starship Troopers 2.” It’s still pretty cheap-looking, plodding and heavy-handed. Casper Van Dien, the vacant square-jawed star of the original “Starship Troopers,” returns as Johnny Rico, now a Colonel in the Mobile Infantry — the boots on the ground in a seemingly endless, propaganda-fueled war against giant bugs in the far-flung, fascistic future.
Paul Verhoeven’s “Starship Troopers” was about 5 years ahead of its time. Were it to have been released in ‘02 or ‘03 rather than 1997, its impact would’ve been like that of an atomic bomb. It’s a two-hour propaganda film, a full-throated endorsement of arachnid genocide. When it was released, people just didn’t get it. I loved it, being a gorehound and all. But the satire was sort of lost on me at the time. America in the late-’90s wasn’t quite the jingoistic war machine we are today.
I’m not sure that’s what Robert Heinlein was getting at when he wrote the book in the ’50s. I read it a few months after the first film came out. It’s very pro-military, if a little listless. Rico’s in training for the bulk of the story. Then he gets bonked on the head at the climax on Planet P and wakes up and the war’s been won. I prefer the film.
All that being said, I’ve spent the previous two paragraphs not talking about “Starship Troopers 3: Marauder,” giving you some idea of how much I enjoyed this movie. This film is set some seven or so years after the first. Rico’s stationed on some rock in outer space that’s besieged by bugs. A former flame, Capt. Lola Beck (Jolene Blalock, a poor woman’s Angelina Jolie) and her new beau Gen. Dix Hauser (Boris Kodjoe, who’s approximately 12 feet tall) set down on the planet for gobs of exposition. Rico punches out Hauser for some reason and is court-martialed and sentenced to hang. But Beck’s transport ship crashes on another bug planet, OM-1, while en route to a Star Trek convention or something. Hauser grants Rico a very last minute reprieve and sends him to rescue Beck with the help of a half-dozen interchangeable troopers. They all inexplicably get naked before piling into exo-suits called “Marauders.” The Marauder exo-suits don’t really do a whole helluva lot. Sigourney Weaver’s mash-up with the Queen Xenomorph at the climax of “Aliens” is way more thrilling than watching these shambling garbage heaps fight creepy crawlies. Oh, and OM-1 has an extremely Freudian bug living in it that the all-singing, all-dancing Sky Marshall in Beck’s group thinks is God.
It’s clunky, this film. Boris Kodjoe is a remarkably tall man. Casper Van Dien is not. The filmmakers apparently blew most of the budget on the effects, not apple boxes. Over-the-shoulder shots are unintentional comedy, as our Hobbit of a hero cranes his neck to make eye-contact with a guy who dwarfs Voltron. I’d forgive the dodgy production values if the movie had some of the wit and the gusto of the first film. It needs someone like Michael Ironside’s Lt. Rasczak in the original. Everyone in the movie is just too soft, considering that they live in a era that defines itself by war. Also, why is it that every television show now looks like a movie, but every DTV movie still looks like a DTV movie?
I’m disappointed that this film was just another half-assed bit of junk like all of Sony’s sequels that go straight-to-DVD. The filmmakers could’ve made a very suberversive Iraq War metaphor here. In the decade since the first film came and went, the world changed in such a way that “Starship Troopers” is now more relevant than ever. Unfortunately, the two follow-ups just bug me.
-Brad Lohan