tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54528665406494114012024-03-12T23:11:53.408-04:00CINEMA GONZOThomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.comBlogger369125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-84629955692286336982015-04-30T01:31:00.000-04:002015-04-30T01:31:09.051-04:00Top 30 Favorite Films of 2014<span style="font-size: large;">Honorable mention: <i>Snowpiercer, Sabotage, Gone Girl, Cold in July, Whitey: U.S.A. v. James J. Bulger, The Zero Theorem, Nightcrawler, Le Weekend, Witching and Bitching, Let the Fire Burn</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">30. <b>Particle Fever</b> (dir-Mark Levinson)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdjACCp67hpbpPQCpgE7CVB6EsZ_TNx-qfT6CrH3zp2tyy71iQJ-rYbIHk4Qtvc86ZaWx_lNx7zc1MR7XglwsKbnWTgsJvDIQKrlhHC37vxGeGX7eSnuMjE-q34w19zfXT3oJfcCDxpY0v/s1600/hr_Particle_Fever_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdjACCp67hpbpPQCpgE7CVB6EsZ_TNx-qfT6CrH3zp2tyy71iQJ-rYbIHk4Qtvc86ZaWx_lNx7zc1MR7XglwsKbnWTgsJvDIQKrlhHC37vxGeGX7eSnuMjE-q34w19zfXT3oJfcCDxpY0v/s400/hr_Particle_Fever_1.jpg" height="400" width="270" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">29. <b>Drive Hard</b> (dir-Brian-Trenchard Smith)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5fhyDIdhs-UQaCH8sCvWl-w8T0lnyQABaFrAB0YxnHJKbWanaYKmpo3EPfk3h2y1GBjJ3e91LxbqkrUVJt0vLHfdJLfjiQWqbpw-8Mtw-beEMoSc-c-7fgUpokQLh_PNbIbSd_NNhTvgv/s1600/Drive+Hard+Poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5fhyDIdhs-UQaCH8sCvWl-w8T0lnyQABaFrAB0YxnHJKbWanaYKmpo3EPfk3h2y1GBjJ3e91LxbqkrUVJt0vLHfdJLfjiQWqbpw-8Mtw-beEMoSc-c-7fgUpokQLh_PNbIbSd_NNhTvgv/s400/Drive+Hard+Poster.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">28. <b>Foxcatcher</b> (dir-Bennett Miller)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDl8rwIFVW_IDC4OtlH7TKE8AmZpBOeFcKzUNqylp7xqQ91aUvoh6ZdpL6B_rtDf_gvxahiY2iLIyBrrZZv9SRfnKWJQBtm4yYXo9h0KvqVwFqoduCbvuFXAa9WS98lOoAibnOo1Jytmze/s1600/foxcatcher_ver11_xlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDl8rwIFVW_IDC4OtlH7TKE8AmZpBOeFcKzUNqylp7xqQ91aUvoh6ZdpL6B_rtDf_gvxahiY2iLIyBrrZZv9SRfnKWJQBtm4yYXo9h0KvqVwFqoduCbvuFXAa9WS98lOoAibnOo1Jytmze/s400/foxcatcher_ver11_xlg.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">27. <b>Jodorowsky's Dune</b> (dir-Frank Pavich)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8Ipy8lBVqmFYKTRVZkIJg9S6VqwwnfuEmmEMrltCdRhbsovVp7CZ7MiHyZy73WUu9kb9rooHAVcvDnzXuOa-X1T0bAygj8IGHcIkHT3LpN9sHcci97eV2McUJa3sXE_otnn6vPcpYjPG/s1600/dune.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8Ipy8lBVqmFYKTRVZkIJg9S6VqwwnfuEmmEMrltCdRhbsovVp7CZ7MiHyZy73WUu9kb9rooHAVcvDnzXuOa-X1T0bAygj8IGHcIkHT3LpN9sHcci97eV2McUJa3sXE_otnn6vPcpYjPG/s400/dune.png" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">26. <b>Predestination</b> (dir-Michael & Peter Spierig)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyXec2Aq_EF3HulJEyLkgDopmZuQ080c0dp9l_H_0dWHkjgloan52pe9ttuSAggZV3zT9Br4cAkz3qmSbtc_46DESny8Tdb1xVXWexpr-7-t5UEoYBaf-YXCT-sl-0RZ-OF45mplcAZfR5/s1600/predestination_ver2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyXec2Aq_EF3HulJEyLkgDopmZuQ080c0dp9l_H_0dWHkjgloan52pe9ttuSAggZV3zT9Br4cAkz3qmSbtc_46DESny8Tdb1xVXWexpr-7-t5UEoYBaf-YXCT-sl-0RZ-OF45mplcAZfR5/s400/predestination_ver2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">25. <b>The Skeleton Twins</b> (dir-Craig Johnson)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPQEauxD_SBNmRW9m9t9j4Rw-KqFm5u9P0pmLHnygAh9gk6xlwEqDyOtkurp6DManuJOevzTD6saWUN0ckiT7wNAQ_Gj7iN6Om1efOUyUJjvq9nTYyTIxY8yG6lG30hi2VXq7dKxTd98N/s1600/Skeleton+Twins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPQEauxD_SBNmRW9m9t9j4Rw-KqFm5u9P0pmLHnygAh9gk6xlwEqDyOtkurp6DManuJOevzTD6saWUN0ckiT7wNAQ_Gj7iN6Om1efOUyUJjvq9nTYyTIxY8yG6lG30hi2VXq7dKxTd98N/s400/Skeleton+Twins.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">24. <b>Life Itself</b> (dir-Steve James)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfu8n5fX5vFjd5CS67twGSf1LGRVzcPA5YA_YtenU0cGNsnxeLM6Kj0CD-0TSouRbFIxPP0qVEGZj5qvzXoHRuHd3ic4cVelLV5bttogRFjtKD6fAnx0v0TelBRrY-woLEu4V-SfuFlEiJ/s1600/life_itself_xlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfu8n5fX5vFjd5CS67twGSf1LGRVzcPA5YA_YtenU0cGNsnxeLM6Kj0CD-0TSouRbFIxPP0qVEGZj5qvzXoHRuHd3ic4cVelLV5bttogRFjtKD6fAnx0v0TelBRrY-woLEu4V-SfuFlEiJ/s400/life_itself_xlg.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">23. <b>Young Ones</b> (dir-Jake Paltrow)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1doDrQc7t4XCepcTp-nwiOBc4JaYi1JbWelXL4l2R4ENrkVrtKqr8SnV7Bjh9zBNlvb9fnNvNhfXDohq68R8YRtHr7pc5lvTPuZEs3wmNrMStZ2I7Rjm2XmnEMS7De99Np_uVIWjpNp8T/s1600/young-ones-poster-1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1doDrQc7t4XCepcTp-nwiOBc4JaYi1JbWelXL4l2R4ENrkVrtKqr8SnV7Bjh9zBNlvb9fnNvNhfXDohq68R8YRtHr7pc5lvTPuZEs3wmNrMStZ2I7Rjm2XmnEMS7De99Np_uVIWjpNp8T/s400/young-ones-poster-1280.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">22. <b>The Interview</b> (dir-Evan Goldberg & Seth Rogen)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGhLeFM3Vz2RaltIPqCCsq4cDzMw2Oewi7t_oyyUAVW-kG1TFOABk_Fr8hq5trxBIztEAGRjBRaDS9UmgLb3FJF-BFio5oxaW-tdLCvsbdRBpHgvY_B0Tr1fqGyY2EnfR30RVgDS4FgAY/s1600/interview_ver3_xxlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGhLeFM3Vz2RaltIPqCCsq4cDzMw2Oewi7t_oyyUAVW-kG1TFOABk_Fr8hq5trxBIztEAGRjBRaDS9UmgLb3FJF-BFio5oxaW-tdLCvsbdRBpHgvY_B0Tr1fqGyY2EnfR30RVgDS4FgAY/s400/interview_ver3_xxlg.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">21. <b>Top Five</b> (dir-Chris Rock)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYiZo7es1OIpg4u2fkn9wK50GEupK54LICOxr0WShMeDzyZSFt5WupaImJOJvQi4oUajVoxLTmSMPumdgVEUUCZ90dZBUgoSLbfSURk1tMb4-hGO7Q9IrVsUvRYV3eAI0bCHO6t9Tdp6AY/s1600/top_five_xlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYiZo7es1OIpg4u2fkn9wK50GEupK54LICOxr0WShMeDzyZSFt5WupaImJOJvQi4oUajVoxLTmSMPumdgVEUUCZ90dZBUgoSLbfSURk1tMb4-hGO7Q9IrVsUvRYV3eAI0bCHO6t9Tdp6AY/s400/top_five_xlg.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">20. <b>The Overnighters</b> (dir-Jesse Moss)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJfO1b35W2mVbzqSOHNfObrYMCdUkKkQMdl2IzGoceXFa_tndJmD9iz51Lx43OoDFWDe5r2mlBIa9dtRRjk5t9YMXPxQmtMDrauJ_mHS36p56ieGvyViJws_EofXG19thjy0ReKdNJUQD/s1600/the-overnighters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJfO1b35W2mVbzqSOHNfObrYMCdUkKkQMdl2IzGoceXFa_tndJmD9iz51Lx43OoDFWDe5r2mlBIa9dtRRjk5t9YMXPxQmtMDrauJ_mHS36p56ieGvyViJws_EofXG19thjy0ReKdNJUQD/s400/the-overnighters.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">19. <b>White Bird in a Blizzard </b>(dir-Gregg Araki)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZpeOKcoNg2x_137NmqOk6vkLSHRlgwaDfzbwN69nNQ9oUYkLZg9v58shDFteCKjR68DxxRhz3s0JNxgTCj6AcN7pKppZA8Sb-ZaPk2X7wD63n-9wlm00eFCfsRMcy4Dc6Fo7qo6puDFa1/s1600/white_bird_in_a_blizzard_ver3_xxlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZpeOKcoNg2x_137NmqOk6vkLSHRlgwaDfzbwN69nNQ9oUYkLZg9v58shDFteCKjR68DxxRhz3s0JNxgTCj6AcN7pKppZA8Sb-ZaPk2X7wD63n-9wlm00eFCfsRMcy4Dc6Fo7qo6puDFa1/s400/white_bird_in_a_blizzard_ver3_xxlg.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">18. <b>Laggies</b> (dir-Lynn Shelton)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBOdc0I5wPPG-ol_GxCMsO33oKo0ifFxtRwflESdnAqor7oWerXL2iQvHNMfKhXsh0Vf0O9H1-lpIVGVuD4oHyWVP88oQVGDSoAION2fYvJ1kbnog0mSf_9Vj8QzdDtvkrl6jLASb5ZN2K/s1600/laggies-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBOdc0I5wPPG-ol_GxCMsO33oKo0ifFxtRwflESdnAqor7oWerXL2iQvHNMfKhXsh0Vf0O9H1-lpIVGVuD4oHyWVP88oQVGDSoAION2fYvJ1kbnog0mSf_9Vj8QzdDtvkrl6jLASb5ZN2K/s400/laggies-poster.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">17. <b>Pride</b> (dir-Matthew Warchus)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0eQfEodQvqrY4ed7q4RblabsG9L2w7DRDQp_urRjWYp_oYFB2alYB7MOBlarkerrq-nF8a7BnNcC7owzNl1PSDR_jIT2qLHzdBU_HWCSXe_3fRILFa-_S2E-DgEP6lbq_Ui9asSMHrGd0/s1600/Pride-Poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0eQfEodQvqrY4ed7q4RblabsG9L2w7DRDQp_urRjWYp_oYFB2alYB7MOBlarkerrq-nF8a7BnNcC7owzNl1PSDR_jIT2qLHzdBU_HWCSXe_3fRILFa-_S2E-DgEP6lbq_Ui9asSMHrGd0/s400/Pride-Poster.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">16. <b>Young & Beautiful</b> (dir-Francois Ozon)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieZEFcod8ktpQc_DS73kuENlf99s3TcTY4ZLDO-gh0twBN0YsHu5sJioV3Qm_ndM2nYrRUdip5g0xIIrQfBiBxOLPYffSl1jtqLbT53ZliVJvf04sqvMIYNk19jnMdPU93P78PzEhTw_vn/s1600/young-beautiful.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieZEFcod8ktpQc_DS73kuENlf99s3TcTY4ZLDO-gh0twBN0YsHu5sJioV3Qm_ndM2nYrRUdip5g0xIIrQfBiBxOLPYffSl1jtqLbT53ZliVJvf04sqvMIYNk19jnMdPU93P78PzEhTw_vn/s400/young-beautiful.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">15. <b>The Drop</b> (dir-Michael Roskam)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfz68XMBcPTNUvezTtbLHUdvIX5TDcxIzI0esXexNkhnuNH85XNNLZbYl7K79odsNcD6hn-b9ZPfh4dDznJ1ocZzY14ilZs912ehit3d_0nRacJAubGu86hATAVzt_rXxzWjrSdfD53Hf/s1600/drop_ver3_xxlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfz68XMBcPTNUvezTtbLHUdvIX5TDcxIzI0esXexNkhnuNH85XNNLZbYl7K79odsNcD6hn-b9ZPfh4dDznJ1ocZzY14ilZs912ehit3d_0nRacJAubGu86hATAVzt_rXxzWjrSdfD53Hf/s400/drop_ver3_xxlg.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">14. <b>The Blue Room</b> (dir-Mathieu Almaric)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUi6uv5CBQ4AFctbzupYyBD4z6mvs2GrmPrdmoza13nK6hrsLbMBV3uQO91FlMdc16lKxthdApMM7wCAe2DiRcG7hCOiVjVRKuupgRv7R904vBSMoUPanTPEe9cJIb-9qUhDVbj2m-jTxN/s1600/La-chambre-bleue-Poster.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUi6uv5CBQ4AFctbzupYyBD4z6mvs2GrmPrdmoza13nK6hrsLbMBV3uQO91FlMdc16lKxthdApMM7wCAe2DiRcG7hCOiVjVRKuupgRv7R904vBSMoUPanTPEe9cJIb-9qUhDVbj2m-jTxN/s400/La-chambre-bleue-Poster.png" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">13. <b>Milius</b> (dir-Joey Figueroa & Zak Knutson)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVJ2lZLQiP9_zVKBQGbeJr3JfWfxp-TyLq6WFfpEyYHSYcNoUkOp1687Q8r-VFvGj87rzPdwi3OMBXK-_8x5EN29YzKPPsA5aU0AeP0D82uZhBlT8dqQtZ_oF8vhitVwes3HA6ZAt7xvD/s1600/milius.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVJ2lZLQiP9_zVKBQGbeJr3JfWfxp-TyLq6WFfpEyYHSYcNoUkOp1687Q8r-VFvGj87rzPdwi3OMBXK-_8x5EN29YzKPPsA5aU0AeP0D82uZhBlT8dqQtZ_oF8vhitVwes3HA6ZAt7xvD/s400/milius.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">12. <b>Chef</b> (dir-Jon Favreau)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_QWQkhSPn1lN-a8izFC38rDQTuUla0-42Sg0dSmRKCNFfqwIlEyGlH4dO9gOUAV0NK188PGprP8lWvX19OXIbNQK_JyDt0fS2VLMXOdeHXaPX-6mgYkY5Su079aV8-eiKaBS4rVj5g7x/s1600/Chef.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_QWQkhSPn1lN-a8izFC38rDQTuUla0-42Sg0dSmRKCNFfqwIlEyGlH4dO9gOUAV0NK188PGprP8lWvX19OXIbNQK_JyDt0fS2VLMXOdeHXaPX-6mgYkY5Su079aV8-eiKaBS4rVj5g7x/s400/Chef.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">11. <b>Nymphomaniac</b> (dir-Lars Von Trier)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYEA8LR2zfoQ7UC6qaeIqZ4aD58zDGyxD6wPEAqiLmn8D66QO33sIt6vQy0wMw2zc4pNSljXp3BnJJnDm13UmkGAHZWWDScC30457r4LhLlzuyQlRNrTrIWTv4y-T7NbBt-TfGFLJ01hsl/s1600/characters-mia-nymphomaniac_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYEA8LR2zfoQ7UC6qaeIqZ4aD58zDGyxD6wPEAqiLmn8D66QO33sIt6vQy0wMw2zc4pNSljXp3BnJJnDm13UmkGAHZWWDScC30457r4LhLlzuyQlRNrTrIWTv4y-T7NbBt-TfGFLJ01hsl/s400/characters-mia-nymphomaniac_large.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">10. <b>The Dance of Reality</b> (dir-Alejandro Jodorowsky)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UGy11GS3fJvHAI8Awd8Ft-QXi0SajjRuoPIM4859apDZjV3KqGMFSCS_eYPnd4b69DcJMepq-KLFMLEVooz_W3RaWqLXM3M-hu3X2QbO_vbQP11_nyiFzMzzJKLv5Vq5rz8sZ8W-L31R/s1600/The+Dance+of+Reality.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UGy11GS3fJvHAI8Awd8Ft-QXi0SajjRuoPIM4859apDZjV3KqGMFSCS_eYPnd4b69DcJMepq-KLFMLEVooz_W3RaWqLXM3M-hu3X2QbO_vbQP11_nyiFzMzzJKLv5Vq5rz8sZ8W-L31R/s400/The+Dance+of+Reality.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">9. <b>A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night</b> (dir-Ana Lily Amirpour)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">8. <b>Ida</b> (dir-Pawel Pawlikowski)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtlPX5Q-C3KoOZ0foFWtKo2OjSDEFr8i9jG1SwaakDNCkLaP24bG7pKwb59_BayPSEVJCRapz0SbsnSitINPQTJcft-YaO6Qe2X190HsxF9v6fugo2AmZWfOdWn-geYdcMaKwDmkS-ex8T/s1600/ida-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtlPX5Q-C3KoOZ0foFWtKo2OjSDEFr8i9jG1SwaakDNCkLaP24bG7pKwb59_BayPSEVJCRapz0SbsnSitINPQTJcft-YaO6Qe2X190HsxF9v6fugo2AmZWfOdWn-geYdcMaKwDmkS-ex8T/s400/ida-poster.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">7. <b>Like Father, Like Son</b> (dir-Hirokazu Koreeda)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4y42x8qhJbu9QHdenkLNSnvVR6aw6Vq4nlS3_gDFwR_2984tYXdfrrn6s9S7L0I1R2m-F3go-aY_LKzwpGMsAFzd6eKAtIvlpGLjRZ_WjvFJGt1L1ROse7Vc2vjBVDLRFgGyfFjsi-RON/s1600/like+father+like+son.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4y42x8qhJbu9QHdenkLNSnvVR6aw6Vq4nlS3_gDFwR_2984tYXdfrrn6s9S7L0I1R2m-F3go-aY_LKzwpGMsAFzd6eKAtIvlpGLjRZ_WjvFJGt1L1ROse7Vc2vjBVDLRFgGyfFjsi-RON/s400/like+father+like+son.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">6. <b>Why Don't You Play in Hell?</b> (dir-Shion Sono)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbliDtN3jt1UHQShFvnfdcaKMYYkJzbqhJfK8KVIUn0922L-noj5OWapxJj5bJWau5NyyhZ7lHTgtXgzk_5TtNq2zJWOFonkL3A0ME9UcemUBvSIiU76Ej-dilDSHwJK1CWHQc7PRzL8X/s1600/why-dont-you-play-in-hell-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbliDtN3jt1UHQShFvnfdcaKMYYkJzbqhJfK8KVIUn0922L-noj5OWapxJj5bJWau5NyyhZ7lHTgtXgzk_5TtNq2zJWOFonkL3A0ME9UcemUBvSIiU76Ej-dilDSHwJK1CWHQc7PRzL8X/s400/why-dont-you-play-in-hell-poster.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">5. <b>Joe</b> (dir-David Gordon Green)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJjFk6S77v8vQkFBCL6XaHYQ3OcrqWTxjhaTu01Xbnr0ZCqYA5HAmLmAeTbEHX0VLdwi4_u88-vtLw2lFPOQUiN-CK-hurKB0QNUfpw-k0Uuc4WRBrtVjwWweCn6IY8sF2XDVXnGjrnzS/s1600/joe-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJjFk6S77v8vQkFBCL6XaHYQ3OcrqWTxjhaTu01Xbnr0ZCqYA5HAmLmAeTbEHX0VLdwi4_u88-vtLw2lFPOQUiN-CK-hurKB0QNUfpw-k0Uuc4WRBrtVjwWweCn6IY8sF2XDVXnGjrnzS/s400/joe-poster.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">4. <b>Wrong Cops</b> (dir-Quentin Dupieux)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBfLH4jqQqpjUDOWwnT4fcmOZtjPKv-FLzDH0kZFoh9u66T0xj7G86_27NOtft7d-bV3Zyt1wHkMXMQyStiKs8qs87-Z6plwa3mPxF4Pd57rHhpPkmactSjYcqd6arsCMCvUxTDQgEqwaO/s1600/wrong-cops.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBfLH4jqQqpjUDOWwnT4fcmOZtjPKv-FLzDH0kZFoh9u66T0xj7G86_27NOtft7d-bV3Zyt1wHkMXMQyStiKs8qs87-Z6plwa3mPxF4Pd57rHhpPkmactSjYcqd6arsCMCvUxTDQgEqwaO/s400/wrong-cops.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">3. <b>The Grand Budapest Hotel</b> (dir-Wes Anderson)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYzNCrqswiFDwkR1pHPXfWkUoUYJ9cX5z85ooU5sY1C9Nh1sTTVJhv2H0OuAWqATfOmLpu77wxdUVUw8sww43odagKBwiSvBmiddmrK4HIyckFrHDsu7zMSHQK7tsFYQTziPzEzHZfaYt/s1600/TGBH-launch-quad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYzNCrqswiFDwkR1pHPXfWkUoUYJ9cX5z85ooU5sY1C9Nh1sTTVJhv2H0OuAWqATfOmLpu77wxdUVUw8sww43odagKBwiSvBmiddmrK4HIyckFrHDsu7zMSHQK7tsFYQTziPzEzHZfaYt/s400/TGBH-launch-quad.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">2. <b>Boyhood</b> (dir-Richard Linklater)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5X_TzMcVV9AueKDaac6BZgs9boz-ptxPxNARJJ4SPIMZLMsOjUqvy0q-icJ0qtZu5vzhROswLIfrjZtQFUdi2ivKf2HRX7Sudp3EsyD05umMYUkmS70O90K-0kWRtwg8lhP59vDR4sSJ/s1600/boyhood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5X_TzMcVV9AueKDaac6BZgs9boz-ptxPxNARJJ4SPIMZLMsOjUqvy0q-icJ0qtZu5vzhROswLIfrjZtQFUdi2ivKf2HRX7Sudp3EsyD05umMYUkmS70O90K-0kWRtwg8lhP59vDR4sSJ/s400/boyhood.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">1. <b>Birdman</b> (dir-Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg94UNnq9GIrMXIVSSMZfwnUXaX5_uROqppCUpOlttuSu2LK1hUcJpXlvWh51TEMvQ-cXBaYDvVl8H3bEUidtdDbvk1QFU_yoeeu44W9JAQcGZTEG-pcHqvmboN5znKQvFy16CQ_Y5C_sgr/s1600/Birdman.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg94UNnq9GIrMXIVSSMZfwnUXaX5_uROqppCUpOlttuSu2LK1hUcJpXlvWh51TEMvQ-cXBaYDvVl8H3bEUidtdDbvk1QFU_yoeeu44W9JAQcGZTEG-pcHqvmboN5znKQvFy16CQ_Y5C_sgr/s400/Birdman.jpeg" /></a></div>
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-59715769179392826222015-02-17T04:09:00.000-05:002015-02-17T04:09:12.864-05:00SCIENCE TEAM (2014)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/p0U_ULQohcM/0.jpg" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/p0U_ULQohcM?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If I understand Neil Degrasse-Tyson correctly, science is the balls. Without it, we would all be neanderthals stumbling around an untamed earth, leading an aimless, pointless existence bereft of Katy Perry blasting iPods, beer cans that change color based on temperature, and of course, the meat dehydrator, that marvelous invention of science that allows one to be able to make beef jerky at home without the hassle and judging eye of society when one takes a trip to the supermarket in order to buy nothing but outlandish amounts of beef jerky. However, people have taken advantage of the buildup of goodwill that has resulted from the fruits of science and technology. Take, for example, Scientology. It gets the rub from the smartiness of science by putting the word “science” in its title in order to fool people into thinking that it’s not, like, the dumbest thing ever.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FNcw_CWJFXzVbqr1JvI7HvkmFtM_KBHXbUDrR4yp2a3325MSj2gYHUP8M_nkToaVO_CpTo4uN_0qyfhUub1lnd7t6GDaprly5L2sAWGzYGfk2wnWHhzCjd8mtgkoGKIpEe98mAx2e86b/s1600/483401_10151530838589099_616380360_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FNcw_CWJFXzVbqr1JvI7HvkmFtM_KBHXbUDrR4yp2a3325MSj2gYHUP8M_nkToaVO_CpTo4uN_0qyfhUub1lnd7t6GDaprly5L2sAWGzYGfk2wnWHhzCjd8mtgkoGKIpEe98mAx2e86b/s1600/483401_10151530838589099_616380360_n.jpg" height="336" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Another such group is Science Team. Oh sure, Science Team is nowhere near as illegitimate as some religion invented to line the pockets of a shitty sci-fi novelist, but after watching this movie, I have come to the conclusion that this particular team of science is not purely rooted in the spirit of the self critical pursuit of knowledge. They’re a group that utilizes public and government funding in order to indeed tackle the problem of invading aliens and such, but something is askew. For example, the science teamers in training are all hot bored young ladies who perpetually do calisthenics while wearing matching t-shirts and shorts, leading me to believe that president and crippled nutbagger Dick Willington III is partially using Science Team as a front to realize his dream of overseeing an all girl pseudo-sleepaway camp where everyone is perpetually doing an Aubrey Plaza impersonation. I can’t say I blame him. </span><br />
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<i>Instead of an Aubrey Plaza impersonation, here is Aubrey Plaza impersonating. It's the best I can do.</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, angry douchebag Joey is in charge of field operations for Science Team, an interstellar diplomat in charge of extraterrestrial inquiry. He is the type of “diplomat” that inquires of an alien’s purpose for visiting earth by swearing at them at the top of his lungs and saying things like “do not fuck with me” without provocation. One gets the feeling that Joey spent less time in high school innovating in the chemistry lab and more time knocking lunch trays out of the hands of dweebs. Nevertheless, he convinced an insane cripple to hire him, and like many a corporate stooge, his only real skill is confidence. H</span><span style="font-size: large;">is approach to “diplomacy” ultimately proves ineffective with the alien as you might imagine, and this leads to people bleeding from their heads coupled with the tragedy of gamebreaking scientific knowledge slipping through the hands of humanity on account of cock-fueled antisocial bureaucracy.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On the flipside is our hero Chip, a struggling writer who deals with his literary impotence with anger and yelling and breaking things. One gets the feeling that Chip was the kind of guy in high school that attempted to write the most epic poem ever during his lunch hour but some jock came by and knocked his lunch tray over and ruined his composition book in the process, and Chip has vowed ever since to skullfuck the world with his words. The skullfucking hasn’t gone as well as he had hoped, so he takes the frustration for his failures out on his passive girlfriend and destroys everything in their living room. Chip ditches her and tries to move in with his mom, acting like his girlfriend has given him no choice but to enter in the most desperate living situation imaginable despite doing nothing but sitting on the couch and eating from a giant tub of ice cream. His plan of rethinking his approach to writing while watching Japanese tentacle porn in his boyhood room goes astray when he finds his mom’s headless corpse and a blobby alien that just sits around. It stands to reason that the immobile blob alien and the headless mother are interrelated somehow, but to what extent is part of the plot that Chip seeks to unravel. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHe-K3uiFQje1b-cLMSICWQUgcKq8x7BTDSEZPk-MtDKZrhAriLUtDNreHq2K3Ig7xrmVhoUqiUtnOU-y1j-3OOTwBqt8NJQlQnrk1GCKLw5VY8WuEaJ7HMOyApOBFDvZx4ize9NhB-cfY/s1600/Science-Team-2014-Movie-Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHe-K3uiFQje1b-cLMSICWQUgcKq8x7BTDSEZPk-MtDKZrhAriLUtDNreHq2K3Ig7xrmVhoUqiUtnOU-y1j-3OOTwBqt8NJQlQnrk1GCKLw5VY8WuEaJ7HMOyApOBFDvZx4ize9NhB-cfY/s1600/Science-Team-2014-Movie-Image.jpg" height="318" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Joey and his hazmat underlings eventually find their way into the home of Chip’s mom to investigate. As MTV’s <b>The Real World</b> has taught us, two angry douchebags cannot stay in the same house together for any significant length of time, which means that Chip and Joey are headed to an inevitable showdown. In this case, it’s a knock out, drag out, “we can’t have sex so we’ll just fuck punch each other” tussle of epic and deadly proportions. While hero and villain on the surface, ultimately Chip and Joey are two sides of the same angry repressed male coin. The main source of scorn for both are passive entities (a girl and an alien), probably because they both don’t actively placate the respective egos of Chip and Joey and instead have the gall to just sit there and kind of ignore them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Rather than being a nonstop Troma fest of exploding heads and one-liners and exploding tits, </span><b><span style="font-size: large;">Science Team</span></b><span style="font-size: large;"> takes the time to show how the two main characters react to the various situations with angry unhinged gusto, however unsympathetic they may be. This is punctuated with Cronenberg-esque bodily violence, lines like “I made you toast and you go and have sex with Donald”, and side characters like the cop who screams in horror about how much less pussy he’ll get with a melted off face as his face is melting off. The humor comes more from the characters being themselves rather than necessarily some forced titty pun like you might expect. It’s just that the world of <b>Science Team</b> is a patriarch of angry douchebaggery fused with cutting edge interstellar technology, and it’s only natural that a combination like that would lead to a clusterfuck of swearing and melting body parts instead of the actual pursuit of real knowledge or whatever.</span><br />
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P.S. Director/Writer Drew Bolduc was previously responsible for <a href="http://cinemagonzo.blogspot.com/2011/02/taint-2010-taint-no-business-like-cock.html?zx=127313b8965ae8e1">The Taint</a>.Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-38882108622831401182015-01-17T12:54:00.001-05:002015-01-17T13:01:49.290-05:00SUPERGIRL (1984)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">America needs heroes. Sure, terrorism, child trafficking,</span><span style="font-size: large;"> Ebola</span><span style="font-size: large;">, unkempt hooliganism, and general chicanery hang over Americans like a belligerent cloud of tense uncertainty. Luckily, these fears can be channelled into a movie villain, usually a deadly serious British actor with devious eyebrow control. A musclebound, spandex-clad, </span><span style="font-size: large;">whitebread</span><span style="font-size: large;"> hero </span><span style="font-size: large;">comes along and shoots </span><span style="font-size: large;">CGI</span><span style="font-size: large;"> into his uppity face after 2 1/2 hours of posturing, lackey pummeling, and whatever plot, after which all is right with the world and the audience can leave the theater and head over to </span><span style="font-size: large;">Walmart </span><span style="font-size: large;">to pick up a garden hose, a pallet of frozen corn dogs, and a pillow for a morbidly obese cat </span><span style="font-size: large;">without</span><span style="font-size: large;"> fear of being wiped out by a foreign plot from a plotting foreigner. Of course, watching a movie doesn’t make it any less likely that one would be </span><span style="font-size: large;">indiscriminately</span><span style="font-size: large;"> blown up, but fear is the more insidious enemy, eating at the souls of many men instead of exploding a few to bits. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This, my friends, is the superhero film in my nutty nutshell, and </span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Supergirl</b></span><span style="font-size: large;"> could be seen as a subversion of this basic plot dynamic, however </span><span style="font-size: large;">accidentally</span><span style="font-size: large;"> it achieves this. Superman is the purest </span><span style="font-size: large;">embodiment </span><span style="font-size: large;">of the desire of the American spirit to witness the decimation of </span><span style="font-size: large;">anglo-villainry</span><span style="font-size: large;"> via </span><span style="font-size: large;">CGI </span><span style="font-size: large;">and spandex. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Supergirl</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">clads </span><span style="font-size: large;">her cousin’s spandex but lacks the heroic force of his </span><span style="font-size: large;">computer effects</span><span style="font-size: large;">, instead content to partake of girlish endeavors like changing outfits and talking about boys. It would be easy to decry the lack of a strong and forceful female hero, but after all, she’s a </span><span style="font-size: large;">Supergirl</span><span style="font-size: large;"> and not yet a Superwoman. There’s the old adage “with great power comes great responsibility”, but she’s still an irresponsible teenager with plenty of the former and little of the latter. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, let’s back up a bit. On a planet deep in outer space, a drunk Peter O’Toole is wearing what looks to be Star Trek Cosby sweater; that is, if the cast of Star Trek wore Cosby sweaters. Whether he got so drunk that he just didn’t care whether or not he was wearing a Star Trek Cosby sweater, or indeed if he had to get cosmically sloshed in order to be able to stomach putting on a Star Trek Cosby sweater is a mystery that I fear will remain hidden within the darkest corners of the galaxy for as long as time persists. Anyway, he borrows a magic ball from the “gods”, and it’s basically a hippie version of the ball from Phantasm. Instead of drilling a hole in some poor bastard’s head, it powers a hippie planet, and I’ll let you the reader decide which is preferable. Needless to say, it’s not something you would want to, say, drop on the floor or spill beer on, being that it is the life blood of an entire race of people. Why these gods would let a drunk dude play with it is beyond me, but O’Toole is truly a charming motherfucker that could probably sell a sombrero to the headless horseman.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mere seconds after whipping out the hippie Phantasm ball, a not yet super </span><span style="font-size: large;">Supergirl</span><span style="font-size: large;"> uses an orange wand to create a dragonfly that rips a hole through her planet and sends the ball hurtling into space. I hate when that happens. I should have mentioned that the planet is basically a </span><span style="font-size: large;">bio dome</span><span style="font-size: large;"> made out of saran wrap. Either way, </span><span style="font-size: large;">Supergirl</span><span style="font-size: large;"> has a couple of days to retrieve the ball before this </span><span style="font-size: large;">balllessness </span><span style="font-size: large;">unleashes a space holocaust upon her own people. I don’t want to tell aliens how to live their lives, but perhaps you might think about child proofing your planet. Holocausts should not be in within easy reach of children. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This is quite different from the typical superhero dilemma, being that the hero is the</span><span style="font-size: large;"> colossal</span><span style="font-size: large;"> threat against humanity (or an alien race that is indistinguishable from humanity), but borne from </span><span style="font-size: large;">naivety</span><span style="font-size: large;"> and not out of some </span><span style="font-size: large;">dumbass</span><span style="font-size: large;"> twist ending where the superhero and the </span><span style="font-size: large;">supervillain</span><span style="font-size: large;"> are actually two sides of the same personality. It’s basically a setup for a morality tale for kids, sort of like a superhero version of a 70’s after school special where a kid accidentally sets fire to his parent’s house after falling asleep while smoking weed, and as a result has to raise money by staging a musical inspired by </span><span style="font-size: large;">Foghat</span><span style="font-size: large;"> lyrics in order to raise </span><span style="font-size: large;">enough</span><span style="font-size: large;"> money to build a new house before his parents come home from vacation. The lesson in both cases is that you should always be mindful of any consequences that your frivolous actions may reap, and the absence of malice is no excuse. You’re not going to be lucky enough to be bailed out of setting large domestic fires by unlikely and frankly moronic plot machinations. Instead, you’ll probably be charged as an adult for involuntary manslaughter. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, the ball plops right into Faye Dunaway’s lap, a power hungry witch who lives above her means and guzzles down champagne and </span><span style="font-size: large;">caviar</span><span style="font-size: large;"> despite being behind on her bills. The hippie Phantasm ball pretty much gives her power to do anything as soon as she gets the hang of it. In the span of 5 minutes, the ball has gone from a toy to the power source for a planet to a magical device that allows you to cast any spell you want. It’s sort of like a perpetual</span><span style="font-size: large;"> deus ex machina</span><span style="font-size: large;"> in spherical form. More importantly, a power hungry witch with vague but maybe unlimited powers is a dangerous threat to humanity, and the alien race is at the brink of </span><span style="font-size: large;">extinction</span><span style="font-size: large;"> without the ball, so this is clearly some important plot shit if I’m putting the pieces together correctly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thankfully, </span><span style="font-size: large;">Supergirl shows up to save the day. However, the first two human beings she meets are truck drivers that try to rape her, so she beats them up in as inoffensive a manner as you can beat up two truck driver rapists because kids are watching and whatever the fuck. It seems like an odd sequence in a film with a naive innocent hero seemingly aimed at young girls, but I think it functions in a similar way to the cliched action movie scene where the hero beats up some rowdy rednecks at a bar in order to show them off as an asskicker. It’s like every Steven Seagal movie where he walks into a bar and some fat drunk lumberjack makes fun of his ponytail so he snaps his arm and makes his elbow go off in a direction that defies space and time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: left;">Naturally, </span>Supergirl<span style="text-align: left;"> immediately frolics through nature and takes a nap next to a bunny. She then notices that a female boarding school is right next to her nap spot, so she naturally decides to enlist in school, utilizing her special power of clothing changes to go from her </span>Supergirl<span style="text-align: left;"> outfit to a schoolgirl outfit. Again, she is stuck in immature </span>girly<span style="text-align: left;"> mode, frolicking with bunnies and nature and changing outfits instead of taking responsibility for her actions. She quickly integrates into the schoolgirl </span>milieu<span style="text-align: left;"> despite being an alien, becoming more popular in her first hour of school than I did during my entire run at </span>high school<span style="text-align: left;">. She ends up rooming with Lucy Lane, sister of Lois Lane, and one of her teachers is Peter Cook, pseudo-boy toy of Faye </span>Dunaway<span style="text-align: left;">. So, through no direct effort whatsoever, she ends up </span>getting<span style="text-align: left;"> an "in" towards the evil villain and also securing an ally that might help her enlist Superman to help at some point, which doesn’t happen though because Superman is “on a peace keeping mission millions of light years away”, so Lucy could have been anybody really. </span></span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">This might seem like an unbelievable coincidence, but you can look at it as a karmic upturn after almost being double raped the night before. Some days you get raped by truck drivers, and some days, the truck drivers get raped by you. So to speak. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: left;">Meanwhile, </span>Dunaway<span style="text-align: left;"> is chilling in her crib, an abandoned amusement park blasting Howard Jones presumably because Rob Zombie wasn’t around yet. How one acquires legal </span>residence<span style="text-align: left;"> in an abandoned </span>amusement<span style="text-align: left;"> park is a mystery that I hope to solve exclusively in order to secure residence in an abandoned amusement park and be able to mock those who lack the </span>awesomeness<span style="text-align: left;"> of being able to live in an abandoned amusement park. Among her posse is Peter Cooke, resident </span>stuffypants<span style="text-align: left;"> and fashion </span>fuddy <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">ruddy. Here is the film’s best line of dialogue: </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: left;">Cook (wearing a ridiculous leather jacket): “I want to make a serious proposal.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span>Dunaway<span style="text-align: left;">: “In that outfit?” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: left;">Brenda </span>Vaccaro<span style="text-align: left;"> is her other friend, bringing the catty thunder in an anachronistic but no less fun acting style that resembles a veteran tough-as-nails actress in an early 60’s musical whose advice to the young ingenue with boy and stage problems is to have a stiff drink and maybe another and maybe seven. Because this is a conflict between a catty </span>milf<span style="text-align: left;"> and a naive girl, the movie quickly revolves around a dude, namely Hart </span>Bochner<span style="text-align: left;">. </span>Dunaway<span style="text-align: left;"> uses her powers to taint some Schlitz beer (that is, more tainted than it already is) to create a love potion to snag </span>Bochner<span style="text-align: left;">, but he wanders off, leaving the carnival and wandering through town traffic before locking eyes with </span>Supergirl<span style="text-align: left;"> and falling in love with her instead. Love potions surprisingly gets a pass when </span>roofies<span style="text-align: left;"> get no pass whatsoever. I think it’s in the name. If they were called “rape potions”, I doubt most people would find them romantic and cute. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: left;">Anyway, this battle over Hart becomes the focal point of the movie instead of, you know, saving two separate civilizations and whatever the fuck.
This might sound stupid and offensive (well, it is kinda stupid), but bear in mind that the naive selfish girl hero would presumably run off to the mall with </span>Bochner<span style="text-align: left;"> and make out with him in his </span>LeBaron<span style="text-align: left;"> in the parking lot and say “like whatever” to being a hero. However, she instead chooses the grown up choice of </span>ixnay<span style="text-align: left;"> on the space h</span>olocaust<span style="text-align: left;">, taking </span>responsibility<span style="text-align: left;"> for her actions and powers and becoming a woman in the process. </span>Dunaway<span style="text-align: left;">, on the other hand, is stuck in her girlish selfishness to the end, revealing that being a grown up is not a matter of age, but rather about taking </span>responsibility<span style="text-align: left;"> for your actions and caring for those around you, instead of just catering to your immediate desires.</span></span></div>
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-21651301912136138932014-07-03T15:43:00.002-04:002014-07-03T15:47:26.712-04:00BEYOND THE GRAVE (2010)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Exploring a post apocalyptic world would be pretty awesome minus the remnants of whatever caused the apocalypse (like nuclear fallout) or whatever mutated nutbaggery results from said fallout (like a zombie homeless guy with an extra head). Basically, you have your run of a once generic and boring world that has been newly imbued with character and creepiness, where mystery awaits around every corner. If that gets boring, you can visit the closest mall and steal as much shit as you want without fear of being walkie talkie bitch slapped by a mall cop with a Buford Pusser complex. Instead of being surrounded by interchangeable assholes, you might also occasionally bump into someone who has an interesting story to tell. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Beyond the Grave</b> takes place in such a world of decayed wonderment thanks to the gates of hell opening up. However, it's Brazil instead of generic American suburbia, so the landscape teeters between beauty and decay, which is even better than a half rubble outlet mall. Either way, a world-weary<b> Mad Max</b>-esque police officer is after the body hopping embodiment of evil who offed his family, which is the kind of no fun shenanigans that occurs when the gates of hell open up. This spirit now manifests as an exotic female badass accompanied by a gang out of a post-apocalyptic spaghetti western, if that was such a thing (I guess it is now). There’s a gas mask wearing cowboy, appropriately enough, and his counterpoint in the form of a bow and arrow toting tribesman of some sort, a Brazilian version of a Native American character from a Spaghetti Western, who were usually played by olive-complected Italians covered in a bit of shoe polish or Burt Reynolds covered in even more shoe polish. There’s also a <b>Once Upon a Time in the West</b>-esque harmonica dude whose playing causes people’s ears to bleed; basically a Blues Traveler harmonica solo at a slightly higher volume. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Along the way, the officer bumps into a wandering young couple so dour they act like they just got out of the theater after an 18 hour Bergman marathon. With that setup, one might expect an existential fairy tale of sorts where the officer goes to any length to hunt down the killer and protect the young couple, who represent the last vestiges of humanity. However, things don’t really unfold that way. The film usually moves slowly in an existential doom kind of way, but quick developing swerves break things up, creating an odd pacing that makes it unique but also cutting into that existential doom “the gates of hell are open and fuck if I know how to close them so why bother” hopeless atmosphere we all know and love. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oh yeah, there are also zombies. Fucking zombies gotta pop up in everything nowadays. However, they’re not much of a threat except when somebody gets careless. I can’t imagine ever getting so complacent in my life that I take a zombie for granted, but I guess you get used to shit after a while. Instead, the zombies are more like shambling signposts of one’s future destiny, like the 65-year-old guy in the cubicle across from you with sickly pale skin leathered from decades of fluorescent light exposure and sunken eyes that are more soulless than an all-white delta blues cover bland playing the grand opening of a Whole Foods. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The film utilizes the standard tropes of people either withdrawing when faced with the stress of living in a hell soaked post-apocalypse or attempting to combat the threat by pumping out their chests with military bravado. There’s the pregnant girl who retreats into her childhood while also preparing for the domestic life of a mother, as if innocence and everyday living can block out a zombie apocalypse, which it kinda does so that seems like the way to go. Then there’s the dude who looks suspiciously like an Opie farmboy Nazi stormtrooper, and I say “suspicious” since I didn’t know Brazil had Opie farmboy dudes. He uses the zombie hell apocalypse as an opportunity to conjure up his inner Nazi in an attempt to militarize in the face of a grave and omnipresent threat, adopting a role he really isn’t suited for but probably spoke to his inner maleness via the conduit of having watched too many episodes of <b>Hogan’s Heroes</b> (which would be more than three). Upon reflection, both approaches make respective sense considering the context, but glanced at individually, they look like a couple of raving nutballs. However, in an insane world, what was once nutbaggery becomes reasonable. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On paper, <b>Beyond the Grave</b> is a Robert Rodriguez-esque genre hodgepodge, where a <b>Mad Max</b>-esque cop has a fight with both a cowboy and a samurai (I forgot to mention that the officer dude gets attacked by a samurai in a bar), and the Fulci-esque plot of random zombies popping up after the gates of hell are opened, and other such genre callbacks. However, it mostly plays out as an observational, arthouse exploration of a world, where pulpy tidbits are treated as realistic texture, and this “realism” is enhanced by the lack of a score throughout most of the movie. Maybe it’s best described as Jim McBride’s low budget post-apocalyptic fairy tale <b>Glen and Randa</b> crossed with <b>Grindhouse</b>, and I mean the Robert Rodriguez/Quentin Tarantino aesthetic, and not the theaters where you would get up to go to the bathroom and trip over a dead bum covered in urine from head to toe, inspiring one to ponder the bum’s final moments. Did someone urinate on him to the point of death? Did a drunk get up to go to the bathroom and see the dead bum there and say to himself “oh, I’ll save myself missing a minute of the movie and just piss on this bum, considering people expect bums to smell like piss anyway”. Or, just maybe, a drunk decided to piss all over a bum who was living in the theater in order to shame him. The bum, so distraught and ashamed of being covered in urine and unable to take a shower, having to watch "Hercules vs. The Rock Monster" 37 times that week, and just being a bum, finally takes that cyanide pill given to him while serving in Vietnam. It’s that kind of character and human interaction that is missing in today’s on-demand, “oh I got a blu-ray of a drive-in classic shipped from Amazon” world. The point is, you can’t really bring back the grindhouse experience, but you can rip off old movies, and <b>Beyond the Grave</b> does the latter. Something about artists that steal instead of borrowing or whatever the fuck. </span><br />
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-86448896305054651142014-05-14T23:37:00.000-04:002014-05-14T23:37:04.590-04:00TOP 30 FAVORITE FILMS OF 2013<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Runners up: </span></span><i><span style="font-size: large;">Gravity,
Cutie and the Boxer,
Mud,
Inside Llewyn Davis,
The Place Beyond the Pines,
The Conjuring,
Post Tenebras Lux,
Lore,
What Maisie Knew,
Tied
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">30. <b>It’s a Disaster</b> (dir-Todd Berger)</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7bHD3Tl5buXWQMdcNI2qZE5Y0no1_ydjDtqfz7-ls5GySEAn5E5DLo1t1N3rne3WPHEbD8D_8hbIH3Upb5-BEepZsTgbLGOKnznJpRHNLScd-wl3vJKdTTL9hRUvH6Dfi1v08XxoY9PS/s1600/disaster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7bHD3Tl5buXWQMdcNI2qZE5Y0no1_ydjDtqfz7-ls5GySEAn5E5DLo1t1N3rne3WPHEbD8D_8hbIH3Upb5-BEepZsTgbLGOKnznJpRHNLScd-wl3vJKdTTL9hRUvH6Dfi1v08XxoY9PS/s1600/disaster.jpg" height="400" width="276" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">29. </span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Something in the Air</b> (dir-Olivier Assayas)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQkYYiQwSMvQmA_VXO2gCnbOgWKxousHmEiGSO6-kyyV5sBCb_LfxuDjnX578D7xXbHmyEoU-fc5XvAZBDOJzny3VhdReKFFV8oHIwB2kP-8OLSkbF00IQg5MSXyxP2oSvDC9UUV1jFJ-0/s1600/something_in_the_air__span.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQkYYiQwSMvQmA_VXO2gCnbOgWKxousHmEiGSO6-kyyV5sBCb_LfxuDjnX578D7xXbHmyEoU-fc5XvAZBDOJzny3VhdReKFFV8oHIwB2kP-8OLSkbF00IQg5MSXyxP2oSvDC9UUV1jFJ-0/s1600/something_in_the_air__span.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">28. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Evil Dead</b> (dir-Fede Alvarez)</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfO8qTuYBPFRMgflfiRo-2WVjWtEBcC2Ae-qxGQ67QSZUp5CXwx5xqCb9MY6TC2W_SI8jSkL6WI7d9RhPt-86sQOeEUZqkGxVXPJe2czRhbhmgwNcINEHFus9grN4XdmXR2JENIKcd_Ed/s1600/evil+dead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfO8qTuYBPFRMgflfiRo-2WVjWtEBcC2Ae-qxGQ67QSZUp5CXwx5xqCb9MY6TC2W_SI8jSkL6WI7d9RhPt-86sQOeEUZqkGxVXPJe2czRhbhmgwNcINEHFus9grN4XdmXR2JENIKcd_Ed/s1600/evil+dead.jpg" height="400" width="285" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">27. <b>Molly’s Girl</b> (dir-Scott R. Thompson)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGMohBVcpHJAOpgD4W9dbntrnYsnSu0c87b7NT-Q2AFw5fNFwcGTGyXUrkjVI_7igdT_NBT9WFNnH-Zt9ruMV0RQHHO8hyakyMa4Rm7Meplk48hpHuYd4AT3fPTfA9AcBHtrjVIjfxJWDO/s1600/MOV_aec26198_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGMohBVcpHJAOpgD4W9dbntrnYsnSu0c87b7NT-Q2AFw5fNFwcGTGyXUrkjVI_7igdT_NBT9WFNnH-Zt9ruMV0RQHHO8hyakyMa4Rm7Meplk48hpHuYd4AT3fPTfA9AcBHtrjVIjfxJWDO/s1600/MOV_aec26198_b.jpg" height="400" width="282" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">26. <b>The American Scream</b> (dir-Michael Stephenson)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-HA0ZjvNnPD32O8HC6pmAv_L32qdbq3Grv25-Yn4mgHiNja8swhPpu3sAEjZbnS5cIyjpYv6cOi6hU87AmJgr5e8xi5OEvK4ALpFvsHnVDT8PDAOCUh4vzHf1w-lzLYtQCaWq1jhpJzmU/s1600/ascream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-HA0ZjvNnPD32O8HC6pmAv_L32qdbq3Grv25-Yn4mgHiNja8swhPpu3sAEjZbnS5cIyjpYv6cOi6hU87AmJgr5e8xi5OEvK4ALpFvsHnVDT8PDAOCUh4vzHf1w-lzLYtQCaWq1jhpJzmU/s1600/ascream.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">25. <b>Broken </b>(dir-Rufus Norris) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVppxGCZ1TxZ5jfX31VkyXMmOysGNSl-W2uaN4V4xa2_eBtZHE7ACe7_IOsvS5qh2cyPaOGJkClpk4bTVRk6hpN939xcsjMTArGvfI8KN8OqFlKojvUd0ieBvXa9b58JOb3yOADqKOAfaK/s1600/broken_ver2_xlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVppxGCZ1TxZ5jfX31VkyXMmOysGNSl-W2uaN4V4xa2_eBtZHE7ACe7_IOsvS5qh2cyPaOGJkClpk4bTVRk6hpN939xcsjMTArGvfI8KN8OqFlKojvUd0ieBvXa9b58JOb3yOADqKOAfaK/s1600/broken_ver2_xlg.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">24. <b>In Another Country</b> (dir-Sang-soo Hong)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPuDAAegEexdHVMMUK7mju66d3iqBs4RCzJfgmIt_WLgtIVK3Kxz112C3BkcSh5c82QvK9EXCzHx-dMVLlgawMtl9EPoTGVnXqKPmHp2jAwmp_tu2k-tiaaqFBljeg9HVx7XcPLHAZSN6D/s1600/InAnotherCountry_Japan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPuDAAegEexdHVMMUK7mju66d3iqBs4RCzJfgmIt_WLgtIVK3Kxz112C3BkcSh5c82QvK9EXCzHx-dMVLlgawMtl9EPoTGVnXqKPmHp2jAwmp_tu2k-tiaaqFBljeg9HVx7XcPLHAZSN6D/s1600/InAnotherCountry_Japan.jpg" height="400" width="277" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">23. <b>Twixt</b> (dir-Francis Ford Coppola)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIVRjRjGTEyEnVPgbEeTlwH26yw3vpA1ACjiyn1EYPvtrJESY8aSQKz361-xFVaqk3eO4mA9d956NVfA5A5zBgdTgKwaDx02Rd6gPq6LYymZ0I8UJkTx65yLSslQGP6x9HA8taczkZZIA/s1600/twixt-poster-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIVRjRjGTEyEnVPgbEeTlwH26yw3vpA1ACjiyn1EYPvtrJESY8aSQKz361-xFVaqk3eO4mA9d956NVfA5A5zBgdTgKwaDx02Rd6gPq6LYymZ0I8UJkTx65yLSslQGP6x9HA8taczkZZIA/s1600/twixt-poster-1.jpg" height="400" width="270" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">22. <b>The Deflowering of Eva Van End</b> (dir-Michiel ten Horn)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpsUGIqCfnO-M6ymwFhez7zICRbrQbskuef38ZHXrUKIb6k1W2oF1UzeojY-3zH1pP7-Hd7rVfDmS2yNMMqJK_x7mEkBgBBwklza6hp4jp3XMv1RP5oC21tBaWSkgjbD2S4poVR4ZCxjFB/s1600/De_Ontmaagding_Van_Eva_Van_End_Poster_1_640x1029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpsUGIqCfnO-M6ymwFhez7zICRbrQbskuef38ZHXrUKIb6k1W2oF1UzeojY-3zH1pP7-Hd7rVfDmS2yNMMqJK_x7mEkBgBBwklza6hp4jp3XMv1RP5oC21tBaWSkgjbD2S4poVR4ZCxjFB/s1600/De_Ontmaagding_Van_Eva_Van_End_Poster_1_640x1029.jpg" height="400" width="248" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmcHkBDAlp1LhIlTyOtLFZCHwVy20GavWMue_WI9Wf7bDxpW8NP-12RRydo2ebHiViKQIMWQJ1LcDOB3WU8VXymlWXKXzHTHDRh_KBJxUAWJOYDT3F6YHMdf0B_zsHLZ7vovXrWv_vDwI/s1600/eva+van+end.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">21. <b>Ain’t Them Bodies Saints </b>(dir-David Lowery)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ibCAtAn5SzemzYT49qM7LUhXqEzePslDgcxlS-3dNUmCXB3Ww_AF2yOWTKsBCmNOd9k73h8x7kXdi8AU5o7M13f76kIlIRzZPDUaREMv9h4dngNgNO1ITwYOo6veESmxX70NY7QRgAkY/s1600/aint-them-bodies-saints-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ibCAtAn5SzemzYT49qM7LUhXqEzePslDgcxlS-3dNUmCXB3Ww_AF2yOWTKsBCmNOd9k73h8x7kXdi8AU5o7M13f76kIlIRzZPDUaREMv9h4dngNgNO1ITwYOo6veESmxX70NY7QRgAkY/s1600/aint-them-bodies-saints-poster.jpg" height="320" width="215" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">20. <b>Price Check</b> (dir-Michael Walker)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLXmuCzZM2MLd74hq5ip8xpYWshpOnRoSTB2aVv7ZVmu4PwKhBANtY9ZwgTBth6vvqWnqskldS9HS2Lf3_Vr2fQxRECselPh1rFw6pcMcq-069BaoEfS4oEqtMlgSyIaR_PBUsaUnGWxr/s1600/price_check_xlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLXmuCzZM2MLd74hq5ip8xpYWshpOnRoSTB2aVv7ZVmu4PwKhBANtY9ZwgTBth6vvqWnqskldS9HS2Lf3_Vr2fQxRECselPh1rFw6pcMcq-069BaoEfS4oEqtMlgSyIaR_PBUsaUnGWxr/s1600/price_check_xlg.jpg" height="320" width="215" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">19. <b>GLOW: The Story of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling</b> (dir-Brett Whitcomb)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAPLKohMD6YayNIZDclBBKL0e0OLMUwN5oDhaU-GYndZgsjEJFEkYJ5VIFjJj3a7LUrq97TEoxmojTET_7hwSKgdfiBDCv4WPEO6moXRQPqHBOy6OQeoN6dWL0VYSH5nCjvLxGbDfv8LgW/s1600/glow_poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAPLKohMD6YayNIZDclBBKL0e0OLMUwN5oDhaU-GYndZgsjEJFEkYJ5VIFjJj3a7LUrq97TEoxmojTET_7hwSKgdfiBDCv4WPEO6moXRQPqHBOy6OQeoN6dWL0VYSH5nCjvLxGbDfv8LgW/s1600/glow_poster.jpg" height="400" width="270" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">18. <b>John Dies at the End</b> (dir-Don Coscarelli)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5mcfVRHkIpo3HaOLjFWEBY_9B3jfT3iTAAjXtgF7WF5EeGO5uUg7jHG-urH8TfxSE0h9HOjiVLcANbVTH1DbqOVSczwo8aYJKCl6KBiIvD_qfq9t7gmquTHDsGbS-OH_qA0yDP-SgOlL/s1600/John-Dies-at-the-End-poster.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5mcfVRHkIpo3HaOLjFWEBY_9B3jfT3iTAAjXtgF7WF5EeGO5uUg7jHG-urH8TfxSE0h9HOjiVLcANbVTH1DbqOVSczwo8aYJKCl6KBiIvD_qfq9t7gmquTHDsGbS-OH_qA0yDP-SgOlL/s1600/John-Dies-at-the-End-poster.jpeg" height="400" width="270" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">17. <b>Greetings from Tim Buckley </b>(dir-Daniel Algrant)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijYn9CJgg2g3RcsDHD2FZfKKEuTD5brDD8ZV0VsqFsZhddhv2Tl1AGwjo2IMZHmPqP0YyitlM4nbfu19lWXlgI6kh0obKk16bXJc_4ingKaYAAH9NdRMxXjEgVLo1EB9BlwdNcjbfKMR9d/s1600/Greetings-From-Tim-Buckley-DVD-F.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijYn9CJgg2g3RcsDHD2FZfKKEuTD5brDD8ZV0VsqFsZhddhv2Tl1AGwjo2IMZHmPqP0YyitlM4nbfu19lWXlgI6kh0obKk16bXJc_4ingKaYAAH9NdRMxXjEgVLo1EB9BlwdNcjbfKMR9d/s1600/Greetings-From-Tim-Buckley-DVD-F.jpg" height="400" width="278" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">16. <b>The Great Beauty</b> (dir-Paolo Sorrentino)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rqonMi9frpCFw_J9j4GPN64vAKV3-ng5_ZCf2TuhbvGGckdSCSPsHUsfu9raVZuElrV2chppT2Xem_M4cXfv-aWact91URBMcHyJaVYrbbV160bBq4c54Vk0kY32R2oTwPFWCs49RHqe/s1600/the-great-beauty-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rqonMi9frpCFw_J9j4GPN64vAKV3-ng5_ZCf2TuhbvGGckdSCSPsHUsfu9raVZuElrV2chppT2Xem_M4cXfv-aWact91URBMcHyJaVYrbbV160bBq4c54Vk0kY32R2oTwPFWCs49RHqe/s1600/the-great-beauty-poster.jpg" height="400" width="275" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">15. <b>Frances Ha</b> (dir-Noah Baumbach)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIl4Mphw-hvh8f_JN0FyN0i4-199lePt_NJiZNeUo4FTKnpFwIER4Qf7AaH74SECNq50N7k6j6evHlmOh0CTAc9MiJvfo9XyyCQZGcV_S5BM01JhI9LkhAWG-v2_62wQdpqAuH5nySGWjr/s1600/frances+ha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIl4Mphw-hvh8f_JN0FyN0i4-199lePt_NJiZNeUo4FTKnpFwIER4Qf7AaH74SECNq50N7k6j6evHlmOh0CTAc9MiJvfo9XyyCQZGcV_S5BM01JhI9LkhAWG-v2_62wQdpqAuH5nySGWjr/s1600/frances+ha.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">14. <b>A Band Called Death</b> (dir-Mark Covino & Jeff Howlett)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEUETjFcXtttHmgPvjfyVJnK2KB6N0BpFo1h-Ockj4gZG7i4htMj9TJxG97qOjp1toRNE_rcmTL3rmtKxCuSYg2RaYLOW_x2QNckCoDXTGRDeEQCaLzTbDZAGczVhVGC2HRNLtlwRu0gdL/s1600/death.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEUETjFcXtttHmgPvjfyVJnK2KB6N0BpFo1h-Ockj4gZG7i4htMj9TJxG97qOjp1toRNE_rcmTL3rmtKxCuSYg2RaYLOW_x2QNckCoDXTGRDeEQCaLzTbDZAGczVhVGC2HRNLtlwRu0gdL/s1600/death.jpg" height="400" width="270" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">13. <b>Assault on Wall Street</b> (dir-Uwe Boll)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbvpM3NdJBTA9zAxwI3NldC-bxgmE0irSxIls542wHvwTveeNZ3Kzm9-WfNsdL_tpK9ZHsvybONUWZAnHHbXMNeSVRjzKqPBisp8I5jzGxhmK189zw9oSv-u7HCBYJ9tRfoVZxWgNsFPH/s1600/assault_on_wall_street_xlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbvpM3NdJBTA9zAxwI3NldC-bxgmE0irSxIls542wHvwTveeNZ3Kzm9-WfNsdL_tpK9ZHsvybONUWZAnHHbXMNeSVRjzKqPBisp8I5jzGxhmK189zw9oSv-u7HCBYJ9tRfoVZxWgNsFPH/s1600/assault_on_wall_street_xlg.jpg" height="400" width="270" /></a></div>
<br /><span style="font-size: large;">12. <b>This is Martin Bonner</b> (dir-Chad Hartigan)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">11. <b>Nebraska </b>(dir-Alexander Payne)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">10. <b>12 Years a Slave</b> (dir-Steve McQueen) </span><br />
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<br /><span style="font-size: large;">9. <b>The Girl</b> (dir-David Riker)</span><br />
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8. <b>The Hunt</b> (dir-Thomas Vinterberg)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">7. <b>Passion</b> (dir-Brian DePalma)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">6. <b>To the Wonder</b> (dir-Terrence Malick)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguskoN4ufDfSBn7SS8_J4MBGhzPr_NUo1afo3R7qEliz9-5Hw1e4mZzXf25YlGN8mUU2nqX8371RqFL1fuy_u1ChhWSp6S9zDHTxYYsoOKz4JOfWrNzqbkKCjRKd7Ln0h8aMuvQ13cnrX9/s1600/to_the_wonder_ver5_xlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguskoN4ufDfSBn7SS8_J4MBGhzPr_NUo1afo3R7qEliz9-5Hw1e4mZzXf25YlGN8mUU2nqX8371RqFL1fuy_u1ChhWSp6S9zDHTxYYsoOKz4JOfWrNzqbkKCjRKd7Ln0h8aMuvQ13cnrX9/s1600/to_the_wonder_ver5_xlg.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">5. <b>Only God Forgives</b> (dir-Nicolas Winding Refn) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">source: <a href="http://andy-potts.blogspot.com/2013/08/only-god-forgives.html">http://andy-potts.blogspot.com/2013/08/only-god-forgives.html</a></span></span></div>
<br /><span style="font-size: large;">4<b>. Teddy Bear </b>(dir-Mads Matthiesen)</span><br />
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<br /><span style="font-size: large;">3. <b>Blue is the Warmest Color </b>(dir-Abdellatif Kechiche)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">2. <b>Spring Breakers</b> (dir-Harmony Korine)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">1. <b>The Wolf of Wall Street</b> (dir-Martin Scorsese)</span><br />
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-4180335652289862862014-02-15T20:41:00.000-05:002014-02-15T20:47:09.581-05:00BABY BROWN (1990)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/juxwAQ9N2AU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">All South African movies are about apartheid even if they seem to be about nothing. It’s jarring (at least to a dumb American) when you watch a movie that takes place in Africa and all you see are a bunch of almost Australian people running around, with nary a brother in sight. It would be like watching <b>Cotton Comes to Harlem</b> and seeing nothing but white people, even in the crowd scenes. It’s like you're watching an <b>Outer Limits</b> episode where gentrification is pushed to a science fiction-y extreme. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Regardless, <b>Baby Brown</b> is South Africa’s answer to the no-budget <b>Lethal Weapon</b> ripoff, but with women playing the mismatched buddy cops and with no brothers in sight anywhere. However, the two partners are not even brought together until 50 minutes into the 90 minute runtime. Before that, a bunch of plot and shit is setup I guess. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEVu0y4DpS9UVK4J3PHSFXTaP-dtmyOV2h4cgjbFIUOihTAR5RAjgRsH5M9SVgEmG9hg7W01HrTu_Cdc5QVMy2gVLI2udgmQommarn9sp-vCFvjnnh5iWerHynFsNaoPRpz1O_pKztXkmL/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h02m05s241.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEVu0y4DpS9UVK4J3PHSFXTaP-dtmyOV2h4cgjbFIUOihTAR5RAjgRsH5M9SVgEmG9hg7W01HrTu_Cdc5QVMy2gVLI2udgmQommarn9sp-vCFvjnnh5iWerHynFsNaoPRpz1O_pKztXkmL/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h02m05s241.png" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">You have tough lady cop O’Hara, who has no interest in starting a family or putting on makeup or playing with the Barbies. Just kicking butt behind a badge and serving as an inspiration to young women who dream to uphold the law and don’t mind absurd overacting. She also speaks in a ridiculous southern accent that comes and goes, as if this is supposed to help Americans relate to the movie and not be put off by its foreignness. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LuWnkDK6dWHsObwyHjwV-fV2B8lk6J90eaFApjWQDtKuLGOEYUNyhuq4bWwirFSZyYJa3NBrozx5NQlPKlhImLooWGoth2ZdwbaWIu26uHogrQirQdxeJUIThR8nhfjKx0nv2tExLKrp/s1600/Baby+Brown+-+confused+reaction+gif.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LuWnkDK6dWHsObwyHjwV-fV2B8lk6J90eaFApjWQDtKuLGOEYUNyhuq4bWwirFSZyYJa3NBrozx5NQlPKlhImLooWGoth2ZdwbaWIu26uHogrQirQdxeJUIThR8nhfjKx0nv2tExLKrp/s1600/Baby+Brown+-+confused+reaction+gif.gif" height="480" width="640" /></a></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To show the audience what a badass she is, she thwarts a pervert during possibly the greatest (and certainly the dumbest) hostage crisis scene in the history of cinema. Some crazy overacting asshole has a gun to a chick’s head and requests to talk to a female officer because, according to O’Hara’s douchebag misogynist male partner, “he prefers a material figure, a member of the weaker sex” to talk to. I think the screenwriter got “maternal figure” and “material girl” confused, which is doubly confusing to the audience because there is nothing maternal about Madonna buying clothes and jewelry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When O’Hara starts “negotiating” with the creep, he just makes her strip down to her underwear. If his only demand was to see a chick in her underwear, why not just make the girl he’s holding hostage strip down to her underwear? I guess we should just chalk up to random nutbaggery and move on with our lives, but I’d like to think this was all planned out via some twisted internal logic. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Either way, it’s this kind of insane circular logic that I love in action crap like this. For example, when O’Hara and Ruso later team up after O’Hara’s partner gets shot, the commissioner makes them get drunk together while on duty so that they can overcome their differences and bond. You see, they instantly hate each other because O’Hara is a brunette who sometimes dresses a bit tomboyish and Ruso is a blonde whose outfits are sometimes a bit on the slutty side for a cop. They head to a bar and get plastered and a drunk redneck hits on them, because when an ultra tough person starts drinking at a bar, there is always a drunk redneck that bothers them. You’d think that rednecks would’ve learned their lesson by now that Southern Comfort does not make you invincible. Of course, O’Hara makes quick work of the guy with her very awkward fighting ability, apparently killing him with a mere awkward girly push to the ground. Earlier, Ruso killed a knife wielding thug by kicking him in the balls. For all of their vast differences, both O’Hara and Ruso have the amazing ability to kill tough opponents with a limited series of incredibly awkward martial art moves. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjytpvxa1IhB5DduTybkdQ4il4hK31wTcm-1H9SHEKJVNSJWdXeh1QTXEM-bNdwya9cWxqg_K6CfuPRVQOCd6W03StYJ-6cQke6BKDpfXsd8maAE5WVssbP-4k9-WVb_GNIkrBcCXCMYKg/s1600/baby+brown+-+knife+gif.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjytpvxa1IhB5DduTybkdQ4il4hK31wTcm-1H9SHEKJVNSJWdXeh1QTXEM-bNdwya9cWxqg_K6CfuPRVQOCd6W03StYJ-6cQke6BKDpfXsd8maAE5WVssbP-4k9-WVb_GNIkrBcCXCMYKg/s1600/baby+brown+-+knife+gif.gif" height="481" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Despite being cops on duty following orders from the commissioner, they are arrested for being drunk at a bar. Not because they killed a redneck, mind you, because, let's face it, who gives a fuck when a drunk redneck gets killed. They are brought in front of the commish and are chastised because “the precinct does not tolerate drunkenness”. Their bonding “assignment” was truly a lose-lose, catch-22 waste of time. No wonder the police are so inefficient, what with contradictory policies like this. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKAJWPumWqEjxfjNb1nZdrBrvGUMqTzxAHUNlKT1bIGuQoRSAnbl1XvzD1vlNBVEcQ8j81nJTL6IrWkQELBsoWoWcHPJSCPm6MwFYwFaat5tIFVPqLI1QqvT_4u6rOm_lKSgW7sgeTCmBA/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-00h43m45s252.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKAJWPumWqEjxfjNb1nZdrBrvGUMqTzxAHUNlKT1bIGuQoRSAnbl1XvzD1vlNBVEcQ8j81nJTL6IrWkQELBsoWoWcHPJSCPm6MwFYwFaat5tIFVPqLI1QqvT_4u6rOm_lKSgW7sgeTCmBA/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-00h43m45s252.png" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I’m getting ahead of myself. Raphael is the local drug lord who speaks in an indistinguishable accent, as does his nutball lead heavy (although a different indistinguishable accent). I guess the movie wants us to believe that it doesn’t take place in South Africa, but is actually a movie about a Kentucky cop trying to stop a collection of vague Europeans. Regardless, Raphael is the kind of ruthless drug lord that has his topless girlfriend fetch him a glass of scotch despite being 18 inches away from the bottle. I guess that is 80’s shorthand for “living in the lap of luxury”. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHoiamjFjW4h8-wh7cdpw7a9vW6pCebBqMRU86LiIzrkH0NoZz-6yr_4COeQDqz5TBw3zad62ftHse6Pz1yAoKaLkPoKK7TLHosK_32CDdyf5cvdfxT9qLfEuVTRtjuF_HldFfeqGJvGp-/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-21-22h34m04s202.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHoiamjFjW4h8-wh7cdpw7a9vW6pCebBqMRU86LiIzrkH0NoZz-6yr_4COeQDqz5TBw3zad62ftHse6Pz1yAoKaLkPoKK7TLHosK_32CDdyf5cvdfxT9qLfEuVTRtjuF_HldFfeqGJvGp-/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-21-22h34m04s202.png" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsob4RJbzkGSoVIItevR2seX6AK7uZYu_PhXMPlmZN0uZuAJuqp4p7hYbewxFijDqZlBj1cW3CVH_R1xb_PBhfj8zqZyJ0XBCmBRcidLBrKF6gzvcDi9cXc9eQ69e3BiXzFnrJtv18KeKT/s1600/Baby+Brown+-+sunbathing+gif.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsob4RJbzkGSoVIItevR2seX6AK7uZYu_PhXMPlmZN0uZuAJuqp4p7hYbewxFijDqZlBj1cW3CVH_R1xb_PBhfj8zqZyJ0XBCmBRcidLBrKF6gzvcDi9cXc9eQ69e3BiXzFnrJtv18KeKT/s1600/Baby+Brown+-+sunbathing+gif.gif" height="481" width="640" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oh yeah, the topless chick is a police informant, which could spell trouble for her if found out, as Raphael already has a habit of offing girlfriends who aren’t even police informants. As a cop puts it, “as ladies get real close they get real dead…terminal love affairs…a lot of ex-girlfriends and axed girlfriends”. So, basically, the two lady cops have to harbor and protect the topless girlfriend from Raphael’s drug cronies, and this conflict is basically saved for the third act. It should come as little surprise that no amount of cronies carrying machine guns stand a snowball's chance in hell against two women that can instantly kill a man with a mere glancing shoe. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJ6qhYJhHOjoHf2EoAL5a1dfOL9WjY9VnLQA9mMZ_OG4w9mZ4yc-czp6HQmLL4TBNW6SLLicQ7hB3DNcghOzZXNiqdMdSRtdPeTvjkTtHsyDyPnRdhnPREl08lXhxDR2BU5lkA8igupLr/s1600/Baby+Brown+-+guns+gif.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJ6qhYJhHOjoHf2EoAL5a1dfOL9WjY9VnLQA9mMZ_OG4w9mZ4yc-czp6HQmLL4TBNW6SLLicQ7hB3DNcghOzZXNiqdMdSRtdPeTvjkTtHsyDyPnRdhnPREl08lXhxDR2BU5lkA8igupLr/s1600/Baby+Brown+-+guns+gif.gif" height="481" width="640" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Despite the heavy padding and awkward narrative structure and the score that sounds like Andy Milligan stock music run through a synthtrocity filter, <b>Baby Brown</b> is filled with the kind of stupid touches that bring joy to defeated fans of action trash horseshit. Every edit, line of dialogue, and character decision is an oddball, brain damaged imitation of “respectable” late 80’s action cinema. There’s the scene where O’Hara chases a thug on foot while he is bleeding to death. They give chase throughout half of South Africa despite the fact that he is carrying an uzi and could easily save himself by blowing off O’Hara’s face at any time, but no, that would deprive us of a token foot chase scene that last upwards of 7 hours. There’s the scene where a prostitute tries to solicit Yakov Smirnoff’s chunky cousin by promising a “good time”, but she notices that he’s already masturbating, and he retorts with “I’m having good time already!”. Later, Raphael’s crony is able to find out the location of the secret police hideout because the drug traffickers have a maid working at the police station (?), and she conveniently keeps them up to date on the latest secret police information. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsDTPf8CrwjnqsG8GqRWvszbG5rlpkEE6Rs1tblfhOPRpS3KDMEIh69cyOsHVl00mZ5F8ksrYMqcanCOFWvXa7DH6JlsAvaITOcB7KbUS225XOLluYAonx14uAXJoQpL1Ys0XOoOfEJ0h5/s1600/Baby+Brown+-+hooker+gif+1.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsDTPf8CrwjnqsG8GqRWvszbG5rlpkEE6Rs1tblfhOPRpS3KDMEIh69cyOsHVl00mZ5F8ksrYMqcanCOFWvXa7DH6JlsAvaITOcB7KbUS225XOLluYAonx14uAXJoQpL1Ys0XOoOfEJ0h5/s1600/Baby+Brown+-+hooker+gif+1.gif" height="481" width="640" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFKFS1XczA2fuLjEdahagemwUh6Oqo-NLOU6805LVU9zSKAD16AxKYZb5agNOEysPZhn4wVkgtW3XZEXsxJ2tOSISzlgpdFT4EfP5_BItD782DzNNopy-9Ha9pqhXFA69L3oki9RqraVoL/s1600/Baby+Brown+-+hooker+%232+gif.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFKFS1XczA2fuLjEdahagemwUh6Oqo-NLOU6805LVU9zSKAD16AxKYZb5agNOEysPZhn4wVkgtW3XZEXsxJ2tOSISzlgpdFT4EfP5_BItD782DzNNopy-9Ha9pqhXFA69L3oki9RqraVoL/s1600/Baby+Brown+-+hooker+%232+gif.gif" height="481" width="640" /></a></span><br />
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<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/g_mMKgc5snc/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/g_mMKgc5snc&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/g_mMKgc5snc&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There’s probably a classic piece of shit in there waiting to come out with some re-editing, maybe something along the lines of a female-centric <b>Samurai Cop</b>. Or maybe I should just embrace the brain dulling spurts of inaction and noodle curdling score, not as roadblocks and detours between the fun bits, but atmospheric bass notes in an action trash symphony that subtly jellos a mind that was never going to understand the world to begin with.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here are some more random screenshots, for those hopeless enough to care: </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-agmVCO5SIL4fnFDlYRZp534sqHMseylr7t-MsloFveTuRuFzrar6ZkEjCUbywbz9QemgRbMS0vz1OV07CU-Rq8YL0JVJqlMBjbR5s6_Yh1ffcwS96ZG1unR1C1hMlnTPKEpuwndMZqb9/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-21-22h05m07s22.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-agmVCO5SIL4fnFDlYRZp534sqHMseylr7t-MsloFveTuRuFzrar6ZkEjCUbywbz9QemgRbMS0vz1OV07CU-Rq8YL0JVJqlMBjbR5s6_Yh1ffcwS96ZG1unR1C1hMlnTPKEpuwndMZqb9/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-21-22h05m07s22.png" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LjRbjtO-29tx3oIPiKaSukkGlhTnxDo6eenitjeSjOni18Kb6A1rYoXzTRMF9llO9JxrMJSsfOoHlU8_-KXwHFT6uX_QlZxQXxSV1yMPV2CjNPzx9ixOLdmgb4XDEkyjy2GdHH8My5n5/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h28m00s166.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LjRbjtO-29tx3oIPiKaSukkGlhTnxDo6eenitjeSjOni18Kb6A1rYoXzTRMF9llO9JxrMJSsfOoHlU8_-KXwHFT6uX_QlZxQXxSV1yMPV2CjNPzx9ixOLdmgb4XDEkyjy2GdHH8My5n5/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h28m00s166.png" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Nwg9JqmeQ2TqA-zwRXzi-Da-aV5oJs0E2zVOk-j4hmNrKuMd1-zAiw1D9Oh-z2KEfOrSmX0_xKE2eNtT0N9_x08OP1YTXnApUl8p-1h3twGhtXNHCVKAmrimkt431cvdOKkZ0OFBYzTf/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h13m22s94.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Nwg9JqmeQ2TqA-zwRXzi-Da-aV5oJs0E2zVOk-j4hmNrKuMd1-zAiw1D9Oh-z2KEfOrSmX0_xKE2eNtT0N9_x08OP1YTXnApUl8p-1h3twGhtXNHCVKAmrimkt431cvdOKkZ0OFBYzTf/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h13m22s94.png" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvV6ohtczPc4BuvRxRAOKejfszKOnEjHsXj1bCRA2mcIXIgV4F4vuy2-6_RlXQI06cnMHI6mRdnAZBqpagvXv9DTr0JZE1wIVBE4IghNCyq0LvbfNrpnl9cwANVixwCd0qsqahGwYDo0lg/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h17m16s130.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvV6ohtczPc4BuvRxRAOKejfszKOnEjHsXj1bCRA2mcIXIgV4F4vuy2-6_RlXQI06cnMHI6mRdnAZBqpagvXv9DTr0JZE1wIVBE4IghNCyq0LvbfNrpnl9cwANVixwCd0qsqahGwYDo0lg/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h17m16s130.png" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTuSd3hKayHU65WieyE151MQwi-ZNpcnXcc3GWBPjuvaPM30_I2dwTfEalKCZstPEtE2R3NRy00PRzFkso1t70DnP7pEE_rxJrdrtXDZcl_yT4yPNVY8T1-PhPLbSmp8JgsuyDRd19v_5G/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h08m21s160.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTuSd3hKayHU65WieyE151MQwi-ZNpcnXcc3GWBPjuvaPM30_I2dwTfEalKCZstPEtE2R3NRy00PRzFkso1t70DnP7pEE_rxJrdrtXDZcl_yT4yPNVY8T1-PhPLbSmp8JgsuyDRd19v_5G/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h08m21s160.png" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF5RGDOgODhvTgFGBH16pz1P-HLdKjHgESnfMzC8j7wjEIJ6Um0TomihSHQb_6hWKl5huMc2e3Ha0HHZy0WYSiR83EjmBEpeb_pg7MJMm5S2XWGkT3BW5tgDCf4YlJ7VYXpZPIy0cpNoDA/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h07m37s221.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF5RGDOgODhvTgFGBH16pz1P-HLdKjHgESnfMzC8j7wjEIJ6Um0TomihSHQb_6hWKl5huMc2e3Ha0HHZy0WYSiR83EjmBEpeb_pg7MJMm5S2XWGkT3BW5tgDCf4YlJ7VYXpZPIy0cpNoDA/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h07m37s221.png" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM0uy3fxJfwKcNm4WVjcpBYJnm0ZgfAKg9hBB4PqWdUvVI8zNpssUTCxOXsTzaUiUDPcaKDjc_YjOu29hLH7-YctrGcdIGFnfrDhLb_KTrFUrWikqpqa4PMEYJR1hTFKuclEkQwM4lLAcU/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h06m23s0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM0uy3fxJfwKcNm4WVjcpBYJnm0ZgfAKg9hBB4PqWdUvVI8zNpssUTCxOXsTzaUiUDPcaKDjc_YjOu29hLH7-YctrGcdIGFnfrDhLb_KTrFUrWikqpqa4PMEYJR1hTFKuclEkQwM4lLAcU/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h06m23s0.png" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLfW8cx-YjhD-E9nr7YMC6nfJ8LGBkLYg6HyX-wMGR6TAHLwM-NQ9H9hFaFJsElkZtPKQrPJ6ZGZO8GrMOdzpgTBD9nScmf-YLmP5UpOs_-z9vXf9v5nzeq6xZRokczSczzmdizfo9uLa/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h04m31s164.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLfW8cx-YjhD-E9nr7YMC6nfJ8LGBkLYg6HyX-wMGR6TAHLwM-NQ9H9hFaFJsElkZtPKQrPJ6ZGZO8GrMOdzpgTBD9nScmf-YLmP5UpOs_-z9vXf9v5nzeq6xZRokczSczzmdizfo9uLa/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-01h04m31s164.png" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvIsDxUPtETMYAsRT_noSepS6F9ePuHvTAuLKXAavthWk_RIpNp2vEUHwKNzF5mJ1gaMwBBR-nOSzhW7HUFQvCHXtbswnBxmm45OML8gZyUlQb5cR8ifJzfG_E6uQTPqvZvJPyZJxEPaU/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-00h58m11s193.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvIsDxUPtETMYAsRT_noSepS6F9ePuHvTAuLKXAavthWk_RIpNp2vEUHwKNzF5mJ1gaMwBBR-nOSzhW7HUFQvCHXtbswnBxmm45OML8gZyUlQb5cR8ifJzfG_E6uQTPqvZvJPyZJxEPaU/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-00h58m11s193.png" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi817M4XWzHeUfPUYkXoQI2pN0ArQZEikyXMKe8ogVfT20UzQ-Dzkggx0DN56SJPUtllZroO9SqrGHfxS4UuY7bmu37jcWODEv-1v9eXMGQD2s_T6IMfwlW7RBTTgARmpLEm2I8rKXOKM_z/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-00h53m33s145.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi817M4XWzHeUfPUYkXoQI2pN0ArQZEikyXMKe8ogVfT20UzQ-Dzkggx0DN56SJPUtllZroO9SqrGHfxS4UuY7bmu37jcWODEv-1v9eXMGQD2s_T6IMfwlW7RBTTgARmpLEm2I8rKXOKM_z/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-22-00h53m33s145.png" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-19476076675220340562013-12-25T22:36:00.000-05:002013-12-25T22:36:18.324-05:00JINGLE ALL THE WAY (1996)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">It’s Black Friday. A 40-band equalizer sound system/VHS player/fuck machine combo is on sell at Wal-Mart for seven cents. You show up at four in the morning, carrying a pot of black coffee and a lifetime of capitalist baggage. When the door finally opens, you create a diversion by smashing the pot over the head of the 400 pound Arab in front of you, and then deploy a series of Hulkamania elbow smashes to frigid temples to work your way up to the front of the line. You finally get into the store and rampage towards the electronics section like a monster from some retard yankee kaiju, clotheslining a waddling mother of four wearing a five kitten sweater, lifting knees into the unsuspecting balls of henpecked fathers, and swatting away children into cardboard teen pop idol displays, like flies being splattered on the windshield of an SUV speeding towards the big box apocalypse. You finally make it to the sales display and death grip the cardboard box with your bacon greased fingers, lifting it over your head like it was the holiest of holy grails. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, after all that trouble, you pay $20 for the privilege of waiting an hour in line to ship it to some asshole relative you haven’t seen in three years. That makes no fucking sense. Why put on a monstrous display of material selfishness only to give away the fruits of your rampage under the empty guise of unselfishness? If you’re going to be selfish, at least be honest about it. That way, you’ll at least feel a modicum of shame when you’re watching porn on your brand new iPad and a Sally Struthers commercial comes on where she begs money for a four-year-old Ethiopian boy who was so starved he chewed his own hands off. That’s all I’m asking for folks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There was a time in America (the 90’s) when Arnold Schwarzenegger, a movie star ubermensch with a thick Austrian accent and a 22” neck, was considered the white bread all-American dad. This was just taken for granted. I don’t remember a scene in <b>True Lies</b> where somebody explains that “Harry Tasker” was a German steroid freak who somehow parlayed that into a job as a U.S. secret agent. I guess you could say that America embraced him as one of their own because of his hugely successful 80’s action roles. Either that, or people going to see an Arnold movie don’t give a shit about little character details like that. I dunno. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Either way, “Howard Langston” (hopefully named in tribute to Murray Langston aka The Unknown Comic) lives a modern capitalist conundrum. Namely, he has to work long hours to be able to afford to buy his kid all the shit he wants in order to make him happy, but that means he doesn’t have time to spend with his kid, which he needs to do in order to make him happy. One lesson that kids are rarely taught is that you should expect one or the other. Either you get to play catch with dad or you get the MLB Playstation game, but not both. You know what, lowered expectations are a good idea in general. That way, you’ll be better equipped to deal with the abject horror and emptiness that life has to offer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, “Mr. Langston” is working late one day and ends up missing his son’s karate class. I didn’t even know parents attended their kid's karate classes, yet this thing has a bigger crowd than your average WNBA game. Not only does Arnold’s superdad neighbor Phil Hartman attend the class to see his tubby son awkwardly kick a wooden plank, he records everything on a state-of-the-art hi-8 camcorder. He also brings a reindeer home to his son and even helps Arnold’s wife with the cooking. Hartman lip smackingly rubs his perfect fatherliness in Arnold’s face at every turn, making it constantly clear to him just how inadequate he is as a dad. This leads to some nice scowling from Arnold in Hartman’s direction, as if to say “muthafucka, I’m the Terminator!”. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Most important of all, Hartman bought his son a Turboman doll way before it was sold out but Arnold was too busy working to pick up the doll. It is now Christmas Eve, and he needs to find one to save Christmas for his annoying brat. You’d imagine Arnold would be able to handle this after blowing up the Predator, but part of the fun is seeing Arnold repeatedly fail in his quest, like the scenes in <b>Kindergarten Cop</b> where he can’t handle a classroom filled with kids. As Hartman puts it at one point, “you can’t benchpress your way out of this one”. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That’s the setup for this family film that, despite the goofy overacting by supporting characters and the overbearing sledgehammer family friendly score, has satire on its mind. Take, for example, the scene where a toy store hands out lottery balls for the privilege of buying a toy that was decreed as a “must have” by corporate interests, and the balls are knocked up in the air and go flying everywhere. Desperate parents crawl around and knock each other over to grab one of the balls, like rabid junkies scrambling to scoop up the contents of a heroin piñata that just got blown open by a crowbar. This is all to the tune of “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year”, ironically summing up the holidays in one mad scramble. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then there’s Arnold’s kid, who recites the entirety of the Turbo Man commercial when selling it his dad, even including the “batteries not included” bit, and adds that he’ll be a “real loser” if he doesn’t have the doll. The point is clear. The advertising industry turns children into robots who are pitted against each other in a playground game of high stakes materialism where everybody loses except for the stockholders, just so they can better grow up to be dutiful consumers that repeat this cycle of horror as pawns in Dante’s 10th circle of hell, the part that is basically one giant shopping mall. Well, it was clear to me anyway. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Impeding his progress is Sinbad, wearing post office blue instead of his more standard black guy Zubaz attire. He’s basically a slightly worse version of the desperate Arnold, resorting to threatening people with a bomb in order to get a Turboman, where as Arnold merely resorts to breaking and entering to get the doll. Arn also punches a reindeer in the face at one point, perhaps an homage to his camel punching in <b>Conan the Barbarian</b>. Not only do these antics provide violent slapstick for families to enjoy and stoners to enjoy and stoner families to enjoy, but it is also a manifestation of the madness of unchecked materialism, where human beings are reduced to rabid buffoons willing to sell their mothers to Taiwanese sex dealers in order to keep up with the Joneses. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I guess the ultimate lesson is that if you have to choose between playing catch with dad or getting the MLB Playstation game, choose playing catch. Those are real human moments that can’t be replicated with a game or a toy. Unless of course your dad is a drunk piece of shit or throws like a girl, in which case, go with the video game and be thankful you at least got something out of the deal. Oh, and merry Christmas!</span><br />
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-82654889406555473272013-11-19T07:28:00.000-05:002013-11-19T07:28:10.805-05:00FROM BEYOND (1986)<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">While most colleges say they encourage innovation and try to foster an environment where freethinkers can doggedly pursue knowledge, it’s really just lip service to get the student body to fork over exorbitant fees. Granted, these colleges probably prepare you for the real world or whatever, maybe a soul crushing but decently paying job in an office checking software code, while the real collegiate "freethinkers" end up moving to Austin to pursue a career as an alternative barista assuming they don’t go insane and try to set fire to their own brains. Genius and insanity are two sides of the same coin, and ya gotta gamble if you wanna win. Even then, the "winners" have to get yelled at by the Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons because his fair trade caramel latte is the worst fair trade caramel latte of all time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, Miskatonik University don’t give a fuck. When they say they encourage the dogged pursuit of knowledge, they mean it. If that entails going balls out batshit and offing a couple of TAs with a pick axe, or maybe tapping into the 9th dimension and getting ripped in half by a half octopus monster with an unpronounceable name, so be it. When you’re making an omelette that casts light upon the darker edges of the universe of human understanding, you’re going to break a couple of eggs. That’s just the way it goes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyways, the lovely Barbara Crampton, in sciency mode since she’s wearing glasses and has her hair up in a bundle, is assigned a brand new nutball freshly escorted into the funny farm after telling a wild story about an experiment where a monster bit off a dude’s head. She can’t quite understand this sudden turn of madness, considering “his record at Miskatonik University was brilliant”. In most colleges, that means you work hard and pay attention, but at Miskatonik, it means you’re a dangerous fruitcake (in a good way). </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Said decapatee is Greek playboy mad scientist Dr. Pretorius, who lets Jeffrey Combs do the sciency dirty work while he lounges around and pets his chest hair and indulges in some superfreak S&M shit. Combs finally manages to stimulate the pineal gland with a giant tuning fork to activate the sixth sense, which allows the stimulated to be able to see into an alternate dimension filled with creatures that surrounds us at all times but we’re too pinealy unstimulated to notice. It also allows interaction between the humans and the creatures, which explains the “head bitten off” thing. The stimulation of the gland also causes serious erotic overdrive, which later results in Barbara Crampton letting down her science hair and getting her own S&M superfreak on when she investigates Combs’ scientific claims. Granted, this unleashes the beasties again, but that’s a break even proposition as far as I’m concerned. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">If I’ve learned anything from science fiction, it’s that scientific pursuit driven by crotch based ego is going to end in a catastrophic fall from grace. However, here it’s practically a plus. Pretorius has a hedonistic pursuit for the erotic high, and while his mind is getting its rocks off in an alternate dimension, his body is back in reality being gooey and sometimes turning into a worm monster thing. Ultimately, the mind is the pleasure center of the body, so you could say that Pretorius cut out the middle man by leaving his body behind and spreading his pleasure center across the dangerous exoticsm of interdimensional superfreakdom. Either that or the guy is fucking crazy. Frankly, it’s hard to tell with these Lovecraftian things. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, head eating monsters and worm creatures that fly around and people being turned into brain sucking freakazoids might seem like a bad thing at first glance, but leave it to our good friend Howard Phillips to think outside of the box. Those that live in the box don’t realize that the box is a figment of their limited imagination, and therefore label those that think outside of the box as lunatics. I’ve said it many times; if you’re gonna doggedly believe in something giant and invisible, don’t pick something as lame and boring as a giant box. Maybe go for a giant heavy metal dragon that shoots lasers out of its eyes. Granted, everyone will laugh at you, but I’d rather be laughed at for my insanity than respected for being boring. </span><br />
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-50352755016609155952013-11-17T21:22:00.000-05:002013-11-17T21:22:08.524-05:00Follow me on Tumblr!<span style="font-size: large;">I started a Tumblr because I am a sellout with nothing better to do, and it requires a lot less time to post Tumblr stuff than it is a 7,000 word review of Deathstalker 7. It is located at <a href="http://thomasduke79.tumblr.com/">http://thomasduke79.tumblr.com/</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, I will continue to post movie related posts here (I'll have something tomorrow...I swear!), but without strictly relying on "reviews" if you want to call them that. The Tumblr will be more about movie related pics and music stuff and girl pics and GIFs and maybe the occasional pug dressed up in human clothes. Shit like that. </span>Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-75467158253784930762013-10-20T07:50:00.002-04:002013-10-20T07:50:47.136-04:00DROP DEAD FRED (1991)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I think we can all agree that, if we were lonely enough well into adulthood to adopt a fictional best friend to accompany us on our non-existent life adventures, away from those ordinary assholes with real jobs and real families, most of us would probably choose one of the Young Ones. For one, not a one of them would complain about your shithole apartment, considering the Young Ones lived in the shitiest shithole that ever holed a shit. Secondly, they are British, which makes them exotic and cultured even when they are saying stupid things (assuming you’re a dumb American). Thirdly, they all present possibilities for comedic adventures, and a comedic adventure with an invisible friend is a good way to distract yourself when you’re sitting alone in your bedroom. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Each Young One has their own individual benefits and drawbacks. Neil the hippie can no doubt scrounge up some weed on a moment’s notice, even if it amounts to having to resort to eating marijuana residue that has long since hardened into a marijuana tortilla chip of some sort. Vyvyan will beat up annoying people at the drop of a hat, but will also inevitably destroy something during an impromptu slam dance party. Mike might lure you into some harebrained financial scheme and force you to sell your collection of Godzilla action figures to pay off a debt to a teamster with two teeth and one eye, but will also have an inroad to a hot date with an impressionable teenage girl who is coked out of her gourd and might be sixteen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Notice I didn’t mention Rick the poseur. Nobody likes a poseur. Poseurs are the lamest people in the world. In fact, they are beneath the lame. At least when the biggest REO Speedwagon fan in the world gets an REO Speedwagon tramp stamp and shows if off to his co-workers at the office, he’s at least owning that shit. Rick stomps his feet, insisting he’s punk rock, but even an old fuddy duddy who don’t know Crass from a hole in the ground knows Rick ain’t no punk rocker. Also, the dude is fucking annoying. Just listen to him talk for the love of the queen. It’s wonderful for a certain kind of sitcom shtick (<b>The Young Ones</b>), but imagine living with the dude, then imagine living with the dude inside of your head. You’d blow your head off with a shotgun while jumping out of a moving train. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyways, Phoebe Cates is having a bad day. She is fired from her job as a court stenographer for being late, which begs the question; why do we even need court stenographers anymore? If people can shoot a movie on their phones, I think we can figure out how to record courtroom audio without forcing some poor lady to type like a madman on crank for hours on end. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"> gratuitous product placement</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If that wasn’t bad enough, she finds out that her sleazebag husband Tim Matheson has been cheating on her. He puts it back on her by saying “we’re not going to throw away 2 years because I was cheating, are we?” What an asshole. Oh, and they’ve been married for three years, by the way. Also, Matheson is a Jaguar salesman. You know what kind of people sell Jaguars? Jags. It’s in the name so you don’t forget. How convenient. Oh, and he cheated ON PHOEBE FUCKING CATES. Who the fuck cheats on Phoebe Cates? It’s Phoebe Cates, for god’s sake! Phoebage is a meal I can sink my face into morning, noon and night and never get tired of it. Yes, I use the term Phoebage. I may have coined it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, Phoebe moves back in with her mother because she no longer has a life without a man. Essentially reverting back to childhood, she opens a taped up jack-in-the-box and out pops her childhood imaginary friend played by Rick of <b>The Young Ones</b>. I think every jack-in-the-box should be sealed. Not because annoying poseurs are liable to jump out at any moment, but because no childhood was ever improved by a creepy clown or especially that horrible song so what’s the point. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The joke is that Phoebe sees Drop Dead Fred (DDF for short) instigating unruly shenanigans while others don’t. Sometimes she yells at him for being a stupid asshole and everyone else around her wonders why she’s yelling at air. I guess hilarity ensues if you find that funny. But what I take issue with is the DDF character himself. Rick was funny being an annoying poseur on <b>The Young Ones</b> in the context of a poseur thinking he isn’t a poseur, surrounded by other great characters to play off of. Here, DDF aims to annoy and does so repeatedly. There’s no Schadenfreude, or layers, or pathos, or insert big time drama word. It’s just a dude rubbing boogers on people. Annoying people can be funny in the context of those who are annoyed and the fact that he doesn’t know he’s annoying. An incredibly annoying guy that aims to be annoying is about as funny as any Holocaust documentary of your choice (I’m going with <b>The Sorrow and the Pity</b>). </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Regardless, Phoebe’s ultimate goal is to get back with Matheson even though he is a total cheating jag scumbag (scumjag). She justifies this by saying “he can be sweet sometimes”. All women say this about the scumbags they are dating. Yes, he can be sweet. It’s because he read a manual entitled “How to Get Laid”, which states that you have to act sweet in order to get laid. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; if a dude was actually sweet, he wouldn’t be cheating on you and occasionally punching you in the head. He’d probably be treating you like a human being. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The film ultimately pays lip service to the idea that DDF helps Phoebs (I’m pretty sure I'm not the first to call her that) overcomes her fears and reliance on jagholes. But it comes across as almost a <i>deus ex machina</i>, a sudden reversal of her hiding from her problems and the reality of adulthood by gallivanting with a crazy asshole wearing clothes so loud they would cause synaptic nerve damage if not for the fact that they’re invisible. If she had really, truly overcome her fears, she would stick a makeshift icepick into the neck of her imaginary friend and knee her ex in the balls so hard his future kids will have aching balls for miles. But maybe I’m idealistic. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Special thanks to the anonymous pervert responsible for the <a href="http://radioactivelingerie.tumblr.com/"><b>Radioactive Lingerie</b> Tumblr</a>, which was the source for the Phoebe pics.</span> </span>Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-65213966766566686532013-10-08T22:02:00.000-04:002013-10-08T22:02:53.211-04:00Check out the new issue of Paracinema magazine!<span style="font-size: large;">Sorry I haven't been posting lately. I've been busy and stuff or whatever. I'll have a new review posted in a few days. In the mean time, you can buy the fuck out of the newest issue of <a href="http://paracinema.net/issue-20-june-2013/">Paracinema magazine</a>. Why? Because it's rad. Also, Charles Bronson is shooting a big ass machine gun on the cover. Also, my article on <b>A Serbian Film</b> is inside. You know, my high school English professor Mr. Snarglepants said I would never get published in a million years. Well, asshole, I got a mag in my hand that says otherwise, containing an article where I break down that movie where the dude skullfucks a baby (spoiler alert!). I'd probably try to track down Mr. Snarglepants and send him a smartass e-mail, but he's probably dead by now. Good. Fuck him. He's just another hater drunk on the haterade.</span><br />
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<br />Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-31311557986483341052013-08-22T18:52:00.000-04:002013-08-22T18:52:12.914-04:00BEN & ARTHUR (2002)<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Directed by Sam Mraovich. Produced by Sam Mraovich. Starring Sam Mraovich. Written by Sam Mraovich. It looks like Sam is trying to make it clear to even the dimmest of bulbs that we’ve got an auteur situation going on here. A vision wrought from the guts of an artist. A Casio preset sample rendition of Scott Joplin’s “The Entertainer” plays over these title cards, possibly because it’s public domain, but more likely because it’s Sam’s way of calling his shot; thou will be entertained. The balls on this motherfucker. Oh, and he was also the cinematographer and the casting director and he wrote some of the music. Dude is playing every position on the field and still guaranteeing victory. I’m all for balls but perhaps this is tipping over into out-and-out hubris. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, Sam plays a balding gay schlub named Arthur who is dating Ben, a hot Jewish Vincent Spano. There’s a reason the star of a movie shouldn’t be allowed to cast the other parts. Regardless, Ben desperately wants to get married to the annoying Arthur, even though he could land any gay man he wanted and probably 20% of straight men. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5-e_ecXcFaNHy_EyIugEKtFUmhsiwvbeolPq6jHX8MlDUmq0JxOJj-tfPtF9SlfXAjFYoMkofYVhRccb-cd7TCSFG0E5p5RUGwirD5_K3Z7JF5j5kzFNLsZz7I5Ef40XpDLFU3_BlAXYa/s1600/B+&+A+3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5-e_ecXcFaNHy_EyIugEKtFUmhsiwvbeolPq6jHX8MlDUmq0JxOJj-tfPtF9SlfXAjFYoMkofYVhRccb-cd7TCSFG0E5p5RUGwirD5_K3Z7JF5j5kzFNLsZz7I5Ef40XpDLFU3_BlAXYa/s640/B+&+A+3.png" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">News comes over the radio that gay marriage has been legalized in Hawaii, so they pack their bags against the will of god to the tune of a god awful “upbeat” rock tune. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Most of the music sounds like tuneage that might’ve played on the soundtrack for a 90’s gay cheesecake video, like something Scott Thompson might’ve masturbated to in between filming Kids in the Hall sketches, but at least Scott would’ve had the human decency to mute it. Not that I would know about gay videos and gay music and such. I’m a straight guy who's into metal bands like Slayer, Manowar, and Judas Priest. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Two major problems prove a rift in their relationship. The legal decision is overturned because America hates the gays, even though Hawaii barely qualifies as America. If that wasn’t enough, Ben drops the bombshell that he’s already married...TO A WOMAN! Not just any woman, but the craziest gay bashing bitch in California. Ben knew he was gay for the entire 5 years of their no doubt uncivil union, but apparently got married anyway due to “peer pressure”. If his gay buddies were pushing him to get married to her, they were probably being sarcastic, and maybe Ben is incapable of understanding sarcasm. You know what, they probably did the same thing to accidentally trick him into a relationship with Arthur. It’s the only theory that makes sense. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">More conflict arises. Arthur is unhappy working at a café with Ben despite the seemingly relaxed atmosphere. He has to occasionally fill the coffee cups of a scant number of customers who occasionally disappear into thin air, and even gets to wear sandals with socks to work. I don’t know if I could trust coffee from a man wearing sandals with socks. The only type of person that can wear sandals with socks in public and not arise suspicion is a Korean dad, and even the most Korean of dads isn’t going to wear sandals with socks while at work. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Regardless, Arthur has dreams and pouring coffee is a prison sentence for his soul, so he quits. He wants to go back to college and earn a business degree so he can ultimately fulfill his ultimate goal of opening up a porno shop. That makes sense. You don’t want to dive head first into a career of selling dildos without the proper background and education. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Arthur is now desperate for money, so he visits his crazy brother Victor to ask him for $2000 for college. However, Victor doesn’t even recognize him at first because he hadn’t seen him in several years. Maybe Arthur got a new nose or something at some point. Either way, Victor tells him that he’ll give him a whopping $8000 if he ungays himself and accepts Jesus Christ as his savior. You see, Victor is one of those ultra religious nutballs, evidenced by him clutching a bible for no reason. He later mentions that his motive for getting Arthur ungayed is because he “wants nieces and nephews”, even though he didn’t so much as recognize the guy a few days prior. Victor also likes to give away large sums of money under the guise of the lord, as he later mentions that he donated over $10,000 to his church, despite living in a shitty apartment and not having any discernible employment. I guess trying to apply logic to the life of a religious nutball is a game where victory is impossible because the rules are made up as the game goes along. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23EGon4iJb18CYTKfO4InE3359VCKi0GAmNIbl1rELwRhf0CyJRXyispGLfZl-YRXXC8bCMIOa1Konorc5QRj35-Wci_dbuDdRUrW1U_xHW6u2YeWTHmjBJLXEuLsy3Rx_XJF8TMcdHFT/s1600/B+&+A+1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23EGon4iJb18CYTKfO4InE3359VCKi0GAmNIbl1rELwRhf0CyJRXyispGLfZl-YRXXC8bCMIOa1Konorc5QRj35-Wci_dbuDdRUrW1U_xHW6u2YeWTHmjBJLXEuLsy3Rx_XJF8TMcdHFT/s640/B+&+A+1.png" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, Ben does eventually get his divorce and they head to Vermont to get married amidst the tranquil beauty of palm trees and sunshine that Vermont is famous for. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRkbpx9QtjpbNytXOVKE0NvGalWOWbe1EgvDHvoZiKAZCOedWxN9hRlkRcKbXBV4relMOjpQLBb0iiFskNJP2A7RYaLuhzD0UIi95U6kLAdz61JdKV-PgvRFmasI2Cpkc7K1EG9YzvBV7v/s1600/B+&+A+2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRkbpx9QtjpbNytXOVKE0NvGalWOWbe1EgvDHvoZiKAZCOedWxN9hRlkRcKbXBV4relMOjpQLBb0iiFskNJP2A7RYaLuhzD0UIi95U6kLAdz61JdKV-PgvRFmasI2Cpkc7K1EG9YzvBV7v/s640/B+&+A+2.png" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This is the final straw for Victor, who murders Arthur’s lawyer because she advised him on how their Vermont marriage translates under California civil union laws. I guess if Arthur had Googled it on his iMac, Victor would’ve shot Steve Jobs.
Victor’s next plan of attack is to hire an 19-year-old private investigator to track Arthur’s every step, and later tapes a holy water potion to Arthur’s front door with the hopes that he’ll drink it and ungay himself. I guess these qualify as legitimate strategies in the mind of a nutball. Similarly, Ben’s ex-wife Tammy comes after him with a gun demanding that he, a gay man, remarry her. Again...crazy person logic. I think Victor and Tammy should get together so they can get off on yelling and pointing guns at each other. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYvJOrD1fbD5DBaK1aJJgOmuJBTHOW-ecLHB7WkyjELKSxfeaIKVYYzdLgNJoMGRQb1-8i99BYTkLKFMqTQgfiqQF6Nu9pUysvZYlUqUyurNh0AP6EKGfOozsPG5p2-B1G6kquUN7tcdix/s1600/B+&+A+5.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYvJOrD1fbD5DBaK1aJJgOmuJBTHOW-ecLHB7WkyjELKSxfeaIKVYYzdLgNJoMGRQb1-8i99BYTkLKFMqTQgfiqQF6Nu9pUysvZYlUqUyurNh0AP6EKGfOozsPG5p2-B1G6kquUN7tcdix/s640/B+&+A+5.png" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><i>Production values yo. Take special note of the Jesus painting.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Based upon the hatred that Ben and Arthur’s union seem to inspire, you’d think the movie takes place in 1950’s Alabama and not post-millennial Los Angeles. You’d be hard pressed to even raise an eyebrow with a gay relationship in modern L.A. Maybe some insults get thrown your way if you live in East L.A. and go out every morning walking your pug while wearing daisy dukes and a see-through mesh shirt, but then you can just move to West Hollywood and be as accepted as is possible to be accepted. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The whole thing escalates as you might imagine. Senseless violence abounds, like when Ben gets shot in the head and has to spend a day in the hospital and comes home a bit groggy. Maybe that sounds a unrealistic, but keep in mind these guns are made of plastic and might be filled with BB’s, and one of them looks like a Buck Rogers water pistol spray painted black, and I’m pretty sure that even water guns from the future can’t kill people. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMI7WxuBoGJYt_rfWF5Orzn1mDsN37cLAP9SrQVEtau6a4fpMROZfaaI1sigAbIiGLB8_sa9iSNtdzESeqKa6fDkj9O4E9n0LKFAhhMXwYPt-l0DHo6yEVds3bMn72ZGxtr5qM8S7OYMg/s1600/B+&+A+4.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMI7WxuBoGJYt_rfWF5Orzn1mDsN37cLAP9SrQVEtau6a4fpMROZfaaI1sigAbIiGLB8_sa9iSNtdzESeqKa6fDkj9O4E9n0LKFAhhMXwYPt-l0DHo6yEVds3bMn72ZGxtr5qM8S7OYMg/s640/B+&+A+4.png" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If <b>Ben & Arthur</b> is famous for anything, it’s famous for its ineptitude. The mid 90’s home movie digital camcorder look, the non-existent continuity, the mind numbing editing and shot selection. Then there’s the never consistent dialogue recording, an ever shifting audio river of ambient and white noise underneath the silly words. It’s sort of a precursor to the first half of <b>Birdemic</b>, but injected with gay issues filtered through an ultra diva prism. Maybe fans of shitty no budget movies will happen upon <b>Ben & Arthur </b>expecting the likes of <b>Birdemic</b>, but come away learning something about issues that modern gay people are forced to deal with, albeit lunatic soap opera extreme versions of these issues. Inadvertently, Mr. Mraovich may have cloaked these educational ideas within a genre piece. Granted, they may only be educational to dumb people who never leave the house, but you gotta start somewhere. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">These low rent nuggets of dumbass joy are slightly tempered by the inescapable vanity project aspect to the film. As if the endless title cards bearing the Mraovich name wasn’t clue enough, there are many other moments of vanity sprinkled throughout. Sam gets naked at one point, showing off his pudgy delights, and even applies for a job as an exotic dancer. The interviewer asks to see his penis while smacking his lips, as if Sam’s body is irresistible to both the audience and the characters. He has a big angry speech against the U.S. government where he says “if we ever get into a war, and they draft my ass, first thing I’m going to tell them is ‘If I’m not good enough to get married in this country, then I sure as hell ain't dying for it!’” Yes, Arthur/Sam’s 40-year-old schlub fighting prowess (possible his mastery of schlub-fu) would prove such a weapon for the U.S.A. that they’ll be forced to reinstitute the draft and greatly expand the draftable age. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then there’s the casting of the guy who plays Ben, who has never acted in anything else despite being as handsome as he is and a decent actor, considering Sam was probably too busy gaffing and catering and setting the lights to give him much direction. This is pure speculation on my part, but it sure feels that Sam cast him for vain reasons (considering this guy undyingly loves Arthur for no discernible reason) as well as to sell his movie (considering the cover art for the DVD features Ben shirtless). This entire experience may have soured the guy on acting all together, and maybe he fled Los Angeles to raise sheep in Omaha, because that’s what gay people do if they want to get away from the big city if hack stand-up comics from the 80’s are to be believed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the end, the movie is best described as an exploitation movie; a cross between a gay-sploitation movie and a vanity project-sploitation movie and an ineptness-sploitation movie, and sometimes the exploited take it to heart. Either that or the guy that played Ben is so embarrassed that he starred in a movie this shitty that he’s too ashamed to ever audition for another role lest somebody recognizes him. I’ll let the viewer choose which one is correct, although bear in mind that I completely made both of them up. </span><br />
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-91807005756528866882013-07-20T20:27:00.002-04:002013-07-20T20:27:44.964-04:00GALAXINA (1980)<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">The "Space Tits" genre was born with the semi-brilliant <b>Flesh Gordon</b> (1974), and continued on with such semi-classics as <a href="http://cinemagonzo.blogspot.com/2011/01/2069-sex-odyssey-1974-ultimate-trip.html"><b>2069: A Sex Odyssey</b></a>, <b>Wham! Bam! Thank You, Spaceman!</b>, and my personal favorite, the crotch blasting teased hair epic <b>Flesh Gordon Meets the Cosmic Cheerleaders</b>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, just as porn ruined the sexploitation picture, the Space Tits genre was swept away into deep space with the softcore sci-fi genre (the likes of the ultra erotic <b>Femalien</b>). </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">The unsophisticated may have a hard time telling the two genres apart, but the hopelessly observant are well aware that Space Tits films were playfully stupid spoofs of the genre, peppering in nudity in order to add to the dumbness quotient. Take, for example, a Benny Hill episode, where the busty assistant tells captain Hill that he needs to twist a dial, so he gives one of her knockers a squeeze to an accompanying “boink” sound. That’s the kind of “erotic” humor you might see in a Space Tits movie, where as the erotic humor in a softcore sci-fi film is a precursor to a sex scene designed to get your pants around your ankles. Playful sexual teasing became passé and was replaced with Skinemax masturbation fodder. Let us mourn a golden time when tits could be played for laughs. </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of the very best examples of the Space Tits genre is the underrated <b>Galaxina</b>, which, in certain ways, is the most gleefully stupid Space Tits movie of them all. Yes, a movie dumber than <b>Flesh Gordon</b>. Let that sink in. Of course, within the galactic federation of the Space Tits genre, that is a compliment. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Take, for example, one of the first lines of dialogue, where a T.V. host introduces a variety show that is “live from Uranus”. I know this is probably a perfunctory throwaway line, but it's also a perfect example of the level of humor we’re talking about here. Here is the most token pun imaginable within the realm of the sci-fi comedy, yet it doesn’t make sense on a basic structural level. Even if you are towing around an epic caboose, there’s no way an entire variety show could take place in your ass, and even if it did, surely you would quickly figure it out and wouldn’t need to be told by some guy on T.V. In most comedies, that would be a problem, but in the Space Tits genre, stupidity trumps comedy even when the movie is trying to be funny. Rather than being a stupid comedy per se, the comedy is a vessel for stupidity. It’s a conundrum, I know.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3VtSaD7roI1oTfvrzV58zbzqWwJyzJ0HfRFNGizYjjsgCs8JGikXJKjSZ3WAW8JvBhpmbmBdym98rE9umahoegPHbeby4T_B4EEYWkViZN5u5WwcC2p64WuiZcYkhGI65NZiFPdiWoCf5/s1600/Galaxina+8.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3VtSaD7roI1oTfvrzV58zbzqWwJyzJ0HfRFNGizYjjsgCs8JGikXJKjSZ3WAW8JvBhpmbmBdym98rE9umahoegPHbeby4T_B4EEYWkViZN5u5WwcC2p64WuiZcYkhGI65NZiFPdiWoCf5/s320/Galaxina+8.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">So, it’s the 31st century, and man has finally created a robot with feelings, and her name is Galaxina (played by Dorothy Stratten, and more on her later). A machine with feelings? Holy shit. It was not too long ago that man was mesmerized by an electric can opener. Now we only have to wait 1000 years for a machine with feelings? Technology just moves so god damn fast. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlX3nQE9IrTiIZu-Yk2PMEB1hFkuohmBMFMjHXRmMzrda2j8ZBjWlRHrASax8QZW7D1vL831nltZ2FQUhu0t9aj9iTkmtkVGJEY3P44_cbo7CEebxB9xhfRCrBjI4lgfZCJTVfBMy2LtoG/s1600/Galaxina+15.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlX3nQE9IrTiIZu-Yk2PMEB1hFkuohmBMFMjHXRmMzrda2j8ZBjWlRHrASax8QZW7D1vL831nltZ2FQUhu0t9aj9iTkmtkVGJEY3P44_cbo7CEebxB9xhfRCrBjI4lgfZCJTVfBMy2LtoG/s320/Galaxina+15.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Unfortunately, she has to hide those feelings from her shipmate Sergeant Thor, who has the hots for her because his eyeballs work. He comes on to her saying “you’re a machine and I’m a human being, which is just another machine really”. I think the romantic within me, a tiny hobo curled up in the fetal position near my spleen, is, dare I say, shedding a tear. Not only is she programmed to not show feelings, she can’t even speak, and when Thor tries to grab her ass, he gets an electric shock. This creates a teasing erotic friction unique to the genre. Of course, she decides to reprogram herself to make herself more human in order to finally experience love. Playful teasing segues into a full fledged love story that invites us to question not only what it is to be human, but also what it might be like to fuck a robot. It’s all very heartwarming to hobos of all sizes. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipudKnK9znT0_PHf0etYO-g-QWdxyC8-WCPPJPM3syRyM73Faj-qwGFsLIcyyiVQKbBvAUNyTIf50yROw_PBxqn0iDN9CRgTM4MXUawQz4LzZHYOz5xv29SmGT7d0EzRug_x4a7YoDXsF2/s1600/Galaxina+16.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipudKnK9znT0_PHf0etYO-g-QWdxyC8-WCPPJPM3syRyM73Faj-qwGFsLIcyyiVQKbBvAUNyTIf50yROw_PBxqn0iDN9CRgTM4MXUawQz4LzZHYOz5xv29SmGT7d0EzRug_x4a7YoDXsF2/s1600/Galaxina+16.png" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">It should be noted that, if you go into this movie expecting some Dorothy Stratten nudity, you’re going to be disappointed. <b>Galaxina </b>is an innovator in the Space Tits genre in that it barely has any actual nudity. There is a police dispatch girl that shows her tits over fuzzy space-skype to the boys to momentarily squelch their boredom, but that’s about it. Imagine the girl that works at the office showing you her tits to help pass the time until lunch. It was a different time, I guess. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBDiqldirohDGUSG2LhppzMf6Y2zSJJRIKiBYF94cMx3Q2nknpWYiPQimRgjbC-H45Wda3XyPV3V7SqbD0GKzTni1CJzzM_nMZ8Fu1Fixnpy8lUqkc_M4i3BEOJezl9XNOskNiBr7OGQa9/s1600/Galaxina+18.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBDiqldirohDGUSG2LhppzMf6Y2zSJJRIKiBYF94cMx3Q2nknpWYiPQimRgjbC-H45Wda3XyPV3V7SqbD0GKzTni1CJzzM_nMZ8Fu1Fixnpy8lUqkc_M4i3BEOJezl9XNOskNiBr7OGQa9/s1600/Galaxina+18.png" /></a></span>Maybe casting a former playboy playmate to play an erotic robot and not have her get naked seems like a wasted opportunity, but watching Dorothy in a skin tight space glam catsuit (the suit is glam, not the cat) is more than enough to launch my rocket. Later, she bends over in a French Maid outfit and my crotch hit warp speed overdrive. Any actual nudity from Dorothy and the mothership would explode. You get the point. The movie doesn’t even NEED any nudity, and for that it should be commended. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6GQ6gI0Ltoy_HRm4h8VkjoqEm0ZD3DDygbEnYJu8ebxMVshVOnOWFtkTFFtI_pzvMwYfbodT4bV-a0nfRY0Vvvc7N00fTkkHekyD_ZlVtx5SHjmxV5n0agM-uRzAW7qPSh2AIKHqyWOTp/s1600/Galaxina+17.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6GQ6gI0Ltoy_HRm4h8VkjoqEm0ZD3DDygbEnYJu8ebxMVshVOnOWFtkTFFtI_pzvMwYfbodT4bV-a0nfRY0Vvvc7N00fTkkHekyD_ZlVtx5SHjmxV5n0agM-uRzAW7qPSh2AIKHqyWOTp/s640/Galaxina+17.png" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZPaoPSEtKwp5waPoLqMBIRMPpRyfVVf2hknA8WHoGpJEiuQqY3Y4fn6DTpIBz80GSB2GZ4SY8RgDbxpd8pWOTDm_MIL0V9MbL_wvcgBAET-FuHX7L2ulw5AgrPG4amGh8nEzhx8NZpHw/s1600/Galaxina+18.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You’re probably wondering what the plot of the movie is, and so am I kinda even after having seen it multiple times. Basically, our heroes are flying an Enterprise-esque police cruiser (“in space, no one can hear your siren”) when they are ordered on a special mission to locate the all-important “blue star”, which is so important to the fate of the galaxy that a chorus of voices sing every time someone mentions it. This mission entails going way off course on a 54 year detour. As the police chief notes when ordering the assignment, “hey, think of the overtime!”. You know what, that’s a nice piece of business right there. Much of the humor is too stupid or nonsensical to really get a direct hit on the funny bone, but an occasional gem does slip though. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8gxh1MKNey9SwIq24H97LJJXTGh5kX89eYKd7Av2oOVVduY2_JrUyZ-4XT_WWNaZQTrXiUe5e5KR846n94MK4o5Ryffw3TH9haa4FNq4V_1xp65f5Gkpdaw4jBVa1940y7am7mU5tyuR/s1600/Galaxina+9.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8gxh1MKNey9SwIq24H97LJJXTGh5kX89eYKd7Av2oOVVduY2_JrUyZ-4XT_WWNaZQTrXiUe5e5KR846n94MK4o5Ryffw3TH9haa4FNq4V_1xp65f5Gkpdaw4jBVa1940y7am7mU5tyuR/s640/Galaxina+9.png" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8gxh1MKNey9SwIq24H97LJJXTGh5kX89eYKd7Av2oOVVduY2_JrUyZ-4XT_WWNaZQTrXiUe5e5KR846n94MK4o5Ryffw3TH9haa4FNq4V_1xp65f5Gkpdaw4jBVa1940y7am7mU5tyuR/s1600/Galaxina+9.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8gxh1MKNey9SwIq24H97LJJXTGh5kX89eYKd7Av2oOVVduY2_JrUyZ-4XT_WWNaZQTrXiUe5e5KR846n94MK4o5Ryffw3TH9haa4FNq4V_1xp65f5Gkpdaw4jBVa1940y7am7mU5tyuR/s1600/Galaxina+9.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhv3oKZ0xPmdfzbGJMTKkxWS_g3UmbRzlM13uj6ym-bTg4cjVORrLmiL5gUiqcf9cMArMwdaPrqumSZrJDTdcBC7m2CKVaXl3-fOdsS_DWdVHTz1bsGLbGlWkTQpr1ScKAMMVi5zg0m9eC/s1600/Galaxina+1.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhv3oKZ0xPmdfzbGJMTKkxWS_g3UmbRzlM13uj6ym-bTg4cjVORrLmiL5gUiqcf9cMArMwdaPrqumSZrJDTdcBC7m2CKVaXl3-fOdsS_DWdVHTz1bsGLbGlWkTQpr1ScKAMMVi5zg0m9eC/s1600/Galaxina+1.png" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Also in the crew is the token young dumb stud who wears jean shorts and a cowboy hat and a sleeveless Dodgers jersey. He is there mainly because women also watch Space Tits movies, as do gay men and repressed Dodgers fans. There’s also the token black crew member (you know he’s “token” because he calls the cowboy a “space honky”), who’s the only brother I’ve seen wear a Hawaiian shirt, although in fairness he’s half gargoyle. Then again, I’ve never seen a gargoyle wear a Hawaiian shirt either. Nevermind. There’s also the token wise Asian who rips bong loads and summons forth cookie fortune proverbs like “he who promises too much too soon accomplishes too little too late”. In fairness, he’s correct. Maybe I shouldn’t dismiss fortune cookie messages out of hand. I guess I just can’t take life advice that comes out of a mediocre cookie seriously. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In charge of the crew is Captain Butt, who sports a Jew-fro and stache, which is always an ill-fitting look for an authority figure. He enters the main section of the ship to the tune of “Thus Spake Zarathrusta”, which is exactly how Ric Flair used to come to the ring. Was The Nature Boy inspired by <b>Galaxina</b> to take his ring entrance to the next level? It's possible, but I'll go ahead and chalk it up to cosmic kismet.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyTUfOGAVCEbRjypzhd1it_ppHdRGHpV3HyflU285nFdQBvM-Xg8AfLkTzFjOMq-sH1Oiw_wOHrnoDhecrJe8HmTRC_sQ4AIPo58pyE2wpHFhhGeMG3Dxkl30VgXhx0Y9y0vq3WpdrqqVA/s1600/Galaxina+2.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-size: large;">Butt also likes to tell bad jokes, or to put it another way, the other crew members are the butt of Butt’s bad jokes. That one was on the house folks. Now, these aren’t “ha ha funny” corny jokes, but straight up failed attempts at humor. You know what, the other crew members don’t laugh at these jokes, so maybe they're supposed to be bad. Trying to separate stupid humor from intentionally bad humor is frankly headache-inducing. Either way, the movie is consistently amusing, so maybe it’s comedic tone is entirely calculated. Maybe it takes a certain amount of intellect to craft something this stupid. Holy shit, I can feel my cranium expanding and it fucking hurts. I better stop analyzing this shit.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCLcIl4dCchCHmCjQG1pCajanaw7CJtkaOXWqEqERRCF64iRWqoDpbmTk0pMVMp8AfqDNQVR-x564JhlbwBc_oIORpg5sZUTorgnSqKYUdGhYx5Sg9Yj8PCyGjA0zqnJqF8Yr_Uax-vOyh/s1600/Galaxina+3.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCLcIl4dCchCHmCjQG1pCajanaw7CJtkaOXWqEqERRCF64iRWqoDpbmTk0pMVMp8AfqDNQVR-x564JhlbwBc_oIORpg5sZUTorgnSqKYUdGhYx5Sg9Yj8PCyGjA0zqnJqF8Yr_Uax-vOyh/s1600/Galaxina+3.png" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Well, whether or not the humor (or anti-humor) works for you, the movie consistently surprises with strange, cheapjack imagination. There’s the Lucas-esque way that odd alien characters litter the frame (if George Lucas was brain damaged and into Halloween masks). My favorite is the swearing, rock eating alien prisoner aboard the ship. There’s also the alien whorehouse scene, which has both a robot hooker doing the robot dance (although in fairness I don't think she can help herself), and a three-titted prostitute that predates <b>Total Recall</b> and also the 6-breasted witch in <b>Necropolis</b>, which might make <b>Galaxina</b> the originator in the multi-tit sci-fi subgenre. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8qeApiCTTVYlJzawUwQU2P9QdxkDEZwQn_M7_2IbLI07ztcuS5X670p1dgCQTCX1MVbdWo1MXCyy_P9wAET6_sgIqO9MGHwIVdMoYAy4RzgVI9Rf0Fukubg52Mm_Oqvt6LE7B3zdSj9Pz/s1600/Galaxina+7.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8qeApiCTTVYlJzawUwQU2P9QdxkDEZwQn_M7_2IbLI07ztcuS5X670p1dgCQTCX1MVbdWo1MXCyy_P9wAET6_sgIqO9MGHwIVdMoYAy4RzgVI9Rf0Fukubg52Mm_Oqvt6LE7B3zdSj9Pz/s1600/Galaxina+7.png" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGAaGPx-vveBnOtcUS4iHDxSPWZtGCBQlG_1jKhN6IAhbFFhQ6DV4LgsxY8tTL2ngmQMznCsyec_9L85QWy44bSiclsmx30BhR4Z_S8ACaNCqKheAif-OUX3Chc9y7WgjYWEy2IvVszx4/s1600/Galaxina+6.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGAaGPx-vveBnOtcUS4iHDxSPWZtGCBQlG_1jKhN6IAhbFFhQ6DV4LgsxY8tTL2ngmQMznCsyec_9L85QWy44bSiclsmx30BhR4Z_S8ACaNCqKheAif-OUX3Chc9y7WgjYWEy2IvVszx4/s1600/Galaxina+6.png" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGAaGPx-vveBnOtcUS4iHDxSPWZtGCBQlG_1jKhN6IAhbFFhQ6DV4LgsxY8tTL2ngmQMznCsyec_9L85QWy44bSiclsmx30BhR4Z_S8ACaNCqKheAif-OUX3Chc9y7WgjYWEy2IvVszx4/s1600/Galaxina+6.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRL94faCSc67NW3kG17ej09sR8UB0POHjxgWW3W7mzZ0higUfIEcPoXpOXGKjgfppSl60KB3oFhyphenhyphendQ8QqAIubBCIElcSY3_2EXYySIeBzukZpGINQyM6pnqqwJrp2wwOpksmCAOZhr63D/s1600/Galaxina+10.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRL94faCSc67NW3kG17ej09sR8UB0POHjxgWW3W7mzZ0higUfIEcPoXpOXGKjgfppSl60KB3oFhyphenhyphendQ8QqAIubBCIElcSY3_2EXYySIeBzukZpGINQyM6pnqqwJrp2wwOpksmCAOZhr63D/s320/Galaxina+10.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Then there’s probably the greatest Cabana ripoff scene in movie history (yes, surpassing even <a href="http://cinemagonzo.blogspot.com/2011/01/turkish-star-wars-1982-at-midnight-i.html"><b>Turkish Star Wars)</b></a>, as goofball alien races get together in a human restaurant (they serve “knuckle sandwiches”) in a small western town on an orange-tinted planet (as in <b>The Angry Red Planet</b>, but orange). It wasn’t uncommon for cheap sci-fi films to tint the alien planet red (or another color) to hide the fact that they were shooting in Griffith Park or wherever. If that wasn't enough craziness, the bartender is named “Mr. Spot”, a spoof of sorts of Mr. Spock. Finally, someone has the balls to knock that asshole down a couple of pegs. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">One little detail that caught my eye was a sign in front of the restaurant saying “Grand Opening – Under New Management”. So basically, a grand re-opening. We all know a "grand re-opening" is a lie and a contradiction in terms, and you can't get around that by acting like the first opening didn't count because the management at the time was shitty. I know, I know, I just need to relax. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVduG2YY0JoB2THZUdHzfDNXQPQeUmDf_81o4fO9Bi3cZYDM5RRsgYgJD_5vwAbYy92yw5c9AIaD0N8KUnO3omVimFIdkGb7FCyJA3mw6UBCGB4bSgRM_ry67UtlWvrcIIAcu1jrl62wUu/s1600/Galaxina+12.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVduG2YY0JoB2THZUdHzfDNXQPQeUmDf_81o4fO9Bi3cZYDM5RRsgYgJD_5vwAbYy92yw5c9AIaD0N8KUnO3omVimFIdkGb7FCyJA3mw6UBCGB4bSgRM_ry67UtlWvrcIIAcu1jrl62wUu/s320/Galaxina+12.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Then there’s the slightly new wave biker gang that show up at the end because, well…I guess people watching a drive-in movie love biker gangs, so why not aim to please. There’s also the odd commercials and T.V. programs that the crew occasionally watch, like an ad for metal hand claws for little old ladies. Someone watches a “20th century ancient movie of the week” at one point, the Russian classic <b>First Spaceship on Venus</b>, apparently because the movie has remained in the public domain even after 1000 years. You’d think some lawyer would’ve cleared that up by then. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhovtld8LOySp5BLpCcRZPrNtW8KqotD5w11fWXmxc1p6qqvD5_P8UcerJhAWCWSvB2L4q-8-G2CYdcbbjdv73zcOodU8ytxJUvJNlfUW6Z3n_0aoZAa__Gy6wRdVskprYpdRR91TCPUW8/s1600/Galaxina+11.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhovtld8LOySp5BLpCcRZPrNtW8KqotD5w11fWXmxc1p6qqvD5_P8UcerJhAWCWSvB2L4q-8-G2CYdcbbjdv73zcOodU8ytxJUvJNlfUW6Z3n_0aoZAa__Gy6wRdVskprYpdRR91TCPUW8/s640/Galaxina+11.png" width="640" /> </a> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4OH9wmdMaHGu8DH-RwnT1O0XoofjJDy0bI86dqd0ijVT85lJB4G0swuDD7Z-A7fe9pBVj3SL31fn_ci4tntZTIIiI8cciXpe7T24F6B9IPJiZoYUuUET1_I59pqWqhp_FLONMLbQJKaG1/s1600/Galaxina+5.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4OH9wmdMaHGu8DH-RwnT1O0XoofjJDy0bI86dqd0ijVT85lJB4G0swuDD7Z-A7fe9pBVj3SL31fn_ci4tntZTIIiI8cciXpe7T24F6B9IPJiZoYUuUET1_I59pqWqhp_FLONMLbQJKaG1/s320/Galaxina+5.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRL94faCSc67NW3kG17ej09sR8UB0POHjxgWW3W7mzZ0higUfIEcPoXpOXGKjgfppSl60KB3oFhyphenhyphendQ8QqAIubBCIElcSY3_2EXYySIeBzukZpGINQyM6pnqqwJrp2wwOpksmCAOZhr63D/s1600/Galaxina+10.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-size: large;">True to the Space Tits ideal, the movie is a triumph of stupidity and cheapjack imagination, all held together by Dean Cundey’s stylish lighting and impeccable faux-epic framing (most space tits movies are not really held together). In the end, the movie excels not as an <b>Airplane</b> style spoof (or even a <b>Spaceballs </b>style spoof), but as space junk pop art cribbed together out of B-movies and general weirdness and humor from the glue-addled brain of a thirteen year old boy. Oh, did I mention that Dorothy Stratten wears a skin tight outfit in this? Maybe I did. I honestly don't remember. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1YYYXuLMm-9CKD5SP5e3AzytqG6Ei8jmg1lwAOmpvCxx8Pz1UZ6ndr0jAUKJMYcQQfQtgFWHG0lCxlQbCGRcwPhw48lCsyLIl1FcxKeLv86FhxB9AcIXzTefRgvj0eft5pL45z5uFoiEn/s1600/Galaxina+20.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1YYYXuLMm-9CKD5SP5e3AzytqG6Ei8jmg1lwAOmpvCxx8Pz1UZ6ndr0jAUKJMYcQQfQtgFWHG0lCxlQbCGRcwPhw48lCsyLIl1FcxKeLv86FhxB9AcIXzTefRgvj0eft5pL45z5uFoiEn/s640/Galaxina+20.png" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmHzSnfKOqkcrxYZcKH5gvmV7asRVa-m7LRSzeVFLKGCvRBZIx4hswiAGFCwr7s8WgC5Ge45rRBK3p8lKXODGxs89Hp4KAmjFv6tpfp5j2CjPiScMq1q4CkRa7qbQWj4xB0W0iJf3Wc_S/s1600/Galaxina+19.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmHzSnfKOqkcrxYZcKH5gvmV7asRVa-m7LRSzeVFLKGCvRBZIx4hswiAGFCwr7s8WgC5Ge45rRBK3p8lKXODGxs89Hp4KAmjFv6tpfp5j2CjPiScMq1q4CkRa7qbQWj4xB0W0iJf3Wc_S/s640/Galaxina+19.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVB8LsnqoauYFtJ1_k6Abt7xlsA40wRiBOMuKjlrehfpBPagUes66WLGeYGCogVQ7CeGmXf2AV09PagVKF2bQ1WlYX5Cyz4iisc-e9IY8HMjs6KNXZLKKDY7yjkgR5o4l2yCm-J1QV_aq/s1600/Galaxina+14.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="327" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVB8LsnqoauYFtJ1_k6Abt7xlsA40wRiBOMuKjlrehfpBPagUes66WLGeYGCogVQ7CeGmXf2AV09PagVKF2bQ1WlYX5Cyz4iisc-e9IY8HMjs6KNXZLKKDY7yjkgR5o4l2yCm-J1QV_aq/s400/Galaxina+14.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>I'll leave you with some hidden symbolism I do believe</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">***** </span></div>
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<span style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: large; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQlaWSqcK9EKpWzw5AkJ5Ve_aX_v2Ao4b9R1FpcKjp_S-7hEfaasYd0RAttlRR8-LSZQLd9CEtFVfXEixQftszb95nG-Miwl1S4ZEJQ3EExX_2y2mHGSAvomO8hSOvI42C2jRSEi1AERN/s1600/Galaxina+4.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: large; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9-JPl9BfmyVBBcO7Jq-DtcfvURS4xeeG99KMpZIX13bNpChCqBEScSqVbPQUHd13VI8mKi4cIHNTHVQfIbrXvPGAxUtF-yTHxK3ZxChoJX17VSJqV9pBeJ5DjeEaUzrsCBO6tg48_Px2/s320/Galaxina+1.png" width="320" /></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A good companion piece to <b>Galaxina</b> is an episode of <b>Buck Rogers in the 25th Century</b>, one of the greatest shows ever, and certainly the greatest showcase for skintight space disco outfits. Dorothy plays Miss Cossmos, the most perfect beauty queen in all the galaxy (as opposed to Galaxina, who is the most perfectly beautiful robot in all the galaxy). She’s aboard an intergalactic cruise ship, enjoying being able to lounge around in a bikini and painting whilst everyone else grooves to some space disco on the star floor. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXoZNPWqgvyQhFH814Qe1JJnI2R7GFuqJxM-J7HHMIj2yOvd_ZnJ78ZcKbedkw7lUESrlAozeKb9lCQtKJuJai9gx3eUmtdjVwIeFXfF7F8LAfMjGh1BtPyyq34XOd_B2zuCrRn-56Rfqm/s1600/Galaxina+6.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXoZNPWqgvyQhFH814Qe1JJnI2R7GFuqJxM-J7HHMIj2yOvd_ZnJ78ZcKbedkw7lUESrlAozeKb9lCQtKJuJai9gx3eUmtdjVwIeFXfF7F8LAfMjGh1BtPyyq34XOd_B2zuCrRn-56Rfqm/s640/Galaxina+6.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQlaWSqcK9EKpWzw5AkJ5Ve_aX_v2Ao4b9R1FpcKjp_S-7hEfaasYd0RAttlRR8-LSZQLd9CEtFVfXEixQftszb95nG-Miwl1S4ZEJQ3EExX_2y2mHGSAvomO8hSOvI42C2jRSEi1AERN/s1600/Galaxina+4.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQlaWSqcK9EKpWzw5AkJ5Ve_aX_v2Ao4b9R1FpcKjp_S-7hEfaasYd0RAttlRR8-LSZQLd9CEtFVfXEixQftszb95nG-Miwl1S4ZEJQ3EExX_2y2mHGSAvomO8hSOvI42C2jRSEi1AERN/s640/Galaxina+4.png" width="640" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9-JPl9BfmyVBBcO7Jq-DtcfvURS4xeeG99KMpZIX13bNpChCqBEScSqVbPQUHd13VI8mKi4cIHNTHVQfIbrXvPGAxUtF-yTHxK3ZxChoJX17VSJqV9pBeJ5DjeEaUzrsCBO6tg48_Px2/s1600/Galaxina+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6y0rA7zzxAx2UWFLFEmJSuo-9tjPG4jhdB98oqqgtOk5jgMbecRTGZdwdRkVs0hFLl6feNm1Y7NA2j5QHV-CgAaf7jMonDeDS4CuZWdIoSX4xplgekCnN6ju6vTHCZvwRDDyh-FMVh9Df/s1600/Galaxina+3.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6y0rA7zzxAx2UWFLFEmJSuo-9tjPG4jhdB98oqqgtOk5jgMbecRTGZdwdRkVs0hFLl6feNm1Y7NA2j5QHV-CgAaf7jMonDeDS4CuZWdIoSX4xplgekCnN6ju6vTHCZvwRDDyh-FMVh9Df/s320/Galaxina+3.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span>Unfortunately, a chick with severely crimped hair that shoots lasers out of her fingers tries to kidnap Dorothy so she can sell her genes on the black market. Buck volunteers to be her bodyguard, which involves some hand-to-hand combat, but most of all, it means down time with Dorothy Stratten, which is great for Buck, because Buck likes to…engage in stimulating conversation. The point is, Dorothy Stratten was not believable playing anything other than a woman whose beauty transcended the limits of planet earth. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvYAIV7GP_7Te1I8wRlCY7jHNADTTPPJ_m1W3GaLHh2eB_LIPAB69JN-aK-5GgDu9EqyuQq93nXyrQwAApr_yXEPYQvwxV9hr6UrDdl7ZJYuIAo12IUEzAyi95f5-hyZRZzEeKmsyFNkG/s1600/Galaxina+2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvYAIV7GP_7Te1I8wRlCY7jHNADTTPPJ_m1W3GaLHh2eB_LIPAB69JN-aK-5GgDu9EqyuQq93nXyrQwAApr_yXEPYQvwxV9hr6UrDdl7ZJYuIAo12IUEzAyi95f5-hyZRZzEeKmsyFNkG/s640/Galaxina+2.png" width="640" /></a></span>Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-53285208336348912752013-07-05T16:09:00.001-04:002013-07-05T16:09:54.502-04:00WIZARDS OF THE LOST KINGDOM II (1989)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/rByiBJ9m3ro?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We all love the 80's B-movie Corman (or Corman-esque) fantasy ripoffs, usually inspired by the Conan movies (and yes, I'm including <b>Red Sonja</b>). Then there are the even lower budgeted ripoffs of these movies which employ scenes from previous films as stock footage. Then there is </span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Wizard of the Lost Kingdom</span></b>, a kidified ripoff of those ripoff ripoffs, which brings it back to a more child friendly Lord of the Rings rip (if your child enjoys shitty 80's movies). Then there is the even lower budgeted sequel to <b>Wizards of the Lost Kingdom</b>, which not only lifts entire scenes from <b>Barbarian Queen</b> (itself a spinoff from the <b>Deathstalker</b> series), but also contains possibly the laziest fight choreography in the history of shirtless men wielding aluminum foil swords in front of a camera (not including the stock footage, of course). </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Plugging in Lana Clarkson sword fighting footage is a
pretty cheap way to make your movie awesome, but Lana Clarkson swinging a
sword whilst wearing a barbarian bikini is Lana Clarkson swinging a sword whilst wearing a barbarian bikini, no matter how you slice it. </span>If all of this sounds confusing, don't worry. You will not be quizzed on this information during finals week because it is useless in the real world and I am the one professor that cares about what goes on in the real world (not the MTV show, you big dumb asshole).</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrMzg4lJsF18KFNS9zYC8ngFdSOH6evyaSUFKV1T6ifffsHYSnsPxGKwCMpr97NW13dXpFrU40Mp3bfeGKCfS_Eu-7wkkZ5SK7ODE3PWzX31cXC-nwoRSvDtgZbgGksgKnb_qMcHUOvkDl/s1600/WOTLKII+4.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrMzg4lJsF18KFNS9zYC8ngFdSOH6evyaSUFKV1T6ifffsHYSnsPxGKwCMpr97NW13dXpFrU40Mp3bfeGKCfS_Eu-7wkkZ5SK7ODE3PWzX31cXC-nwoRSvDtgZbgGksgKnb_qMcHUOvkDl/s640/WOTLKII+4.png" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, some brat wearing "ye olde helmet wig" is the chosen one that has the ultimate power to defeat evil if he just believes, blah blah, and he has to find three amulets that are currently in the hands of three evil wizards. Helping him on his quest is an old good guy wizard and "The Dark One" David Carradine, the greatest fighter in all the land. So great is his fighting prowess that all he has to do is vaguely swat his sword in the general area of his opponent, or even just lift his leg near their head, and they will instantly drop stone cold fucking dead. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><object height="480" width="640"><param
name="movie"
value="//www.youtube.com/v/xzFeF76Xbws?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0"></param>
<param
name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param>
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name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param>
<embed
src="//www.youtube.com/v/xzFeF76Xbws?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0"
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allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Basically, this takes the ultra cheap 80's fantasy movie and plugs in a kid hero and cartoon noises and silly one-liners (although I like it when a villain refers to The Dark One as "The Dork One", possibly because I am thirteen years old emotionally speaking). However, there are several out of left field sexual scenes, like when the kid and the wizard visit ye olde exotic dance club to find The Dark One (not to be confused with The Dark One from <b>Robot Holocaust</b>). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmciwmD3luwJodEEnRBCN8cjur0GDTh_1ayFsNuMN9aJ4icSWKrng7T9VbJr-tRUjBr2lXOfCiolXac6d6zehz1pgmYe_yo8VrKlpQO286iH3_Cr402Rd50_Iw-c4qN9rh9nDoUP73Rc8p/s1600/WOTLKII+2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmciwmD3luwJodEEnRBCN8cjur0GDTh_1ayFsNuMN9aJ4icSWKrng7T9VbJr-tRUjBr2lXOfCiolXac6d6zehz1pgmYe_yo8VrKlpQO286iH3_Cr402Rd50_Iw-c4qN9rh9nDoUP73Rc8p/s640/WOTLKII+2.png" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param>
<param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param>
<embed src="//www.youtube.com/v/MJW-mZFIHo8?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="640" height="480" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Admittedly, the chick never fully strips since the mead is flowing like the Mississippi. Nudity at an "exotic dance" club is inversely proportional to the amount of liquor served. If there is not so much as a thimble of beer at a strip club, you'll probably be able to stick your head into her vagina and have a peek. Just trying to arm the consumer with knowledge. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilaCS6e590QnQyepBXBiW_Q49Jwu9go5g_ufQKM8JdmXD89WZ1Xtk8n0SiOHfeKya6GORJArhSRCFWKkUKKuRZGQh0i4Asanjg-Cb0FSvH_H-MAyVkwt6OIaoEltQ-BT7qBT_rM4XKZl72/s1600/WOTLKII+1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilaCS6e590QnQyepBXBiW_Q49Jwu9go5g_ufQKM8JdmXD89WZ1Xtk8n0SiOHfeKya6GORJArhSRCFWKkUKKuRZGQh0i4Asanjg-Cb0FSvH_H-MAyVkwt6OIaoEltQ-BT7qBT_rM4XKZl72/s640/WOTLKII+1.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then there's the evil witch who tries to seduce our young hero. This is pretty awesome as a fantasy for young boys, but I don't know what she could possibly see in him. Oh well, I guess heroes get all the chicks, even if David Carradine does most of the work.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilaCS6e590QnQyepBXBiW_Q49Jwu9go5g_ufQKM8JdmXD89WZ1Xtk8n0SiOHfeKya6GORJArhSRCFWKkUKKuRZGQh0i4Asanjg-Cb0FSvH_H-MAyVkwt6OIaoEltQ-BT7qBT_rM4XKZl72/s1600/WOTLKII+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdZE3gdL6teHVFqztd4aR5-hNKjq723JyIHMkIt1JTj-cmbKWfI60kHZD8FZEr1PKaEpS5yXPAt2RLWBotXY7koe0KjG24mx6aGly861ccyOQsyhie8DalYW-TKAelMrIry8ISvWoQrHYn/s1600/WOTLKII+6.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdZE3gdL6teHVFqztd4aR5-hNKjq723JyIHMkIt1JTj-cmbKWfI60kHZD8FZEr1PKaEpS5yXPAt2RLWBotXY7koe0KjG24mx6aGly861ccyOQsyhie8DalYW-TKAelMrIry8ISvWoQrHYn/s1600/WOTLKII+6.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdZE3gdL6teHVFqztd4aR5-hNKjq723JyIHMkIt1JTj-cmbKWfI60kHZD8FZEr1PKaEpS5yXPAt2RLWBotXY7koe0KjG24mx6aGly861ccyOQsyhie8DalYW-TKAelMrIry8ISvWoQrHYn/s640/WOTLKII+6.png" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If all of this sounds terrible, just bear in mind that Sid Haig plays an evil wizard who wears a black cape with feathers.</span> <span style="font-size: large;">Him and the evil sorceress are both pretty metal, and if this still isn't a metal album cover, I don't know what is:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">These two characters really made the movie for me, since the two main heroes are pretty annoying and kidified. It just goes to show that if you make a stupid cheap movie that is set after the apocalypse or during medieval times, the best move is to make the villains as metal as possible without making them so metal that it becomes incongruous (like having them wear a denim jacket covered in rivets during olden times). I have nothing else to add, so here is Sid Haig punching a woman in the face. Goodnight.</span><br />
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-76626276761611591462013-06-23T00:56:00.002-04:002013-06-23T00:56:51.314-04:00SIETE EN LA MIRA (1984)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">The "small town terrorized by a biker gang" genre came to prominence with <b>The Wild One</b> starring Marlon Brando, later updated to the 60's with our not-really-Indian friend Billy Jack in <b>The Born Losers</b> (and other examples). These were stories about explosive rebels exploding in the face of suffocating small town values, or at least cool ass bad boys (and the requisite biker mama) layered with a modicum of characterization. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/4mlSyNZrmFY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, by the time you get to the 80's, a lot of gangs were just evil troublemakers wearing goofball clothing steeped in oblivious homoeroticism. The punk or biker outlaw uniform designated them as rapists and thieves who only existed to punch holes in the fabric of humanity and upset American whitebread values.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One such gang is at the center of the Mexi-sploitation movie <b>Siete en la mira</b>, a gathering of ridiculously clad souls, sort of a less softer South American "biker gang" version of the ruffian cannon fodder from <b>Death Wish 3</b>. I put "biker gang" in quotes because they ride around in red scooters and one of the members looks like Giorgio Moroder with blue hair. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://img.youtube.com/vi/0OU7Hka_--U/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/0OU7Hka_--U&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/0OU7Hka_--U&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I completely buy that Giorgio would dye his hair blue and ride around on a red scooter yelling out "ciao" to delighted pedestrians, but I don't buy that he would dye his hair blue and get on his red scooter and invade a small town and beat up cops for no reason. No man who makes love with ear drums via the magic of synth lines would take a baseball bat to a cop's noggin, no matter how crooked the little porker is. So, my point is that it lacks realism.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I say that having watched the movie in Spanish without English subtitles, with my Spanish being rustier than a Pinto that's been sitting at the bottom of a lake since the late 70's. It sure seems like a movie where a gang infiltrates a small town, causes trouble, becomes pissed off at the sheriff for doing his job, holds some school children hostage in retaliation, all of which leads to a final showdown between the gang and the sheriff, now armed with a whip because a whip looks cool I guess. It all seems quaint for an 80's biker punk gang movie, considering the other main weapon is a hockey stick and the movie doesn't take place on the gentle streets of Saskatchewan. No bikes mounted with gatling guns in this one, folks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The obvious takeaway is that the leader of the gang is very angry and the other members are intent on following this trail of anger wherever it may lead, whether to the gutter of annihilation or the victory road of destruction. More importantly, they take their fashion cues from him too. I tend to think that lost souls who are able to find solace in one another and are also able to express themselves with outlandish clothing would find some form of contentment, but what do I know about human beings. Anyway, here are a bunch of stills from the movie because I ran out of things to say.</span></div>
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<i> Forget this feller's name, but he is easily my second favorite member of Ratt. Oh wait, it's a chick. Carry on.</i></div>
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<i>The one takeaway from these stills is that brandishing a hockey stick is a great way to keep a child in check.</i></div>
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<i> Now that's just overkill guys.</i></div>
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<br />Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-66228694497360505132013-06-13T21:11:00.002-04:002013-06-13T21:47:03.845-04:00COYOTE SUMMER (1996)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm not officially an expert on family horse pictures, but based on exhaustive research (i.e. reading plot synopses on IMDB), they all have the same basic story. Namely, some damaged young person, maybe a lonely orphan stricken with polio who wears overalls made out of cardboard, meets an equally damaged horse whose faults, maybe a poor attitude or a meth addiction or both, hide an amazing talent for racing. The kid aims to tame this beast and win the local horse race, which includes a prize that varies depending on the recources of the county, whether a ribbon or a sack of untraceable bills or free tickets for the freak tent. Either way, it's not about material gain, but rather a case of a young person taming their inner demons in the process of taming outer horse demons, and along the way curing their polio though gumption and prayer, and just maybe finding a workable pair of pants.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It seems like every generation and country gets their own variants on this tale, and <b>Coyote Summer</b> is a family horse picture for the 90's teen angst <b>My So-Called Life</b> crowd. It's also the first starring role for the beautiful Vinessa Shaw (she was the hooker with a heart of gold in <b>Eyes Wide Shut</b>, amongst other roles), so you can bet your sweet ass that I'll be including numerous pics of her rocking various 90's fashions. Maybe you could get away with cardboard overalls in your grandfather's family horse pictures, but not in family horse pictures set in the immediate post-grunge era, when anti-fashion flannel turned fabulous.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Vinessa plays an angsty thrill seeker who races her bike in an unsafe manner, weaving through traffic and even pulling off a few stunts. She's a believer in punk rock danger, as evidenced by the Misfits sticker on her handlebars.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ4uZ4_62mDstty90KCEdyQwPpf1ibDZ40cVCYQ6TrkY5zYY8KRW8V0IP74i3oSUhV6PxV8idNs59lpCbmahUHyYqHLcGYVoxQS8dFmvvbyrfHg7npePaJwyvdfg60cJgAjrLRbT2qtO4i/s1600/Coyote+Summer+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ4uZ4_62mDstty90KCEdyQwPpf1ibDZ40cVCYQ6TrkY5zYY8KRW8V0IP74i3oSUhV6PxV8idNs59lpCbmahUHyYqHLcGYVoxQS8dFmvvbyrfHg7npePaJwyvdfg60cJgAjrLRbT2qtO4i/s640/Coyote+Summer+2.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJnhuaEyINgvMie4Mx1OLsetRi5ZbD9M-YVVJHDRxVAYTJ1hCr50Md_fv_ZsX07prBuGhgUFjXHLy0rHe_ker8cAje8yx4k1OXUKYnZ2jBCKXI3iGqwJoFFhcyhZcal4oE7me-W3wEV-h/s1600/Coyote+Summer+3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJnhuaEyINgvMie4Mx1OLsetRi5ZbD9M-YVVJHDRxVAYTJ1hCr50Md_fv_ZsX07prBuGhgUFjXHLy0rHe_ker8cAje8yx4k1OXUKYnZ2jBCKXI3iGqwJoFFhcyhZcal4oE7me-W3wEV-h/s640/Coyote+Summer+3.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Her mother doesn't approve of such self-destructive behavior, so she uses a job opportunity in London as an excuse to ship Vinessa off to her sister's horse ranch so she can learn the value of hard work and meet greasy old rednecks. The idea is that rural life will de-angst her and save her in the process. I can sort of see where the white bread mom is coming from. I mean, Vinessa mopes around while rocking out to her Walkman no doubt set to some heathen grunge station, and she even has X-rays on her wall. That's borderline metal folks. Pretty soon she'll be listening to Helmet and snorting Pop Rocks and skateboarding through the mall clotheslining people. I think that's pretty rad but I guess most parents wouldn't agree with that sentiment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, Vinessa goes off to live at the ranch, becomes captivated by a wild but talented horse, and also ends up befriending a Native American ranch hand. You can figure out where things go from there even if you have never seen a movie before. In the process, Vinessa undergoes a transformation from early-90's Janeane Garafolo gone skatepunk to all-American horse riding cowgirl (horsegirl?). </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The underlying message is a bit disappointing to me, in the sense that the movie seems to be implying that being a vaguely punk version of Angela Chase is a bad thing. I can't agree with that exactly but, on the other hand, occasionally a vaguely punk Angela Chase will overdose on heroin, and Vinessa also looks fab as a cowgirl. Hopefully she learns to adapt both styles into one awesome package, like combining a leather cowboy hat with tattered overalls and rawhide Doc Martins. There was never a sequel, so I guess we'll never know for sure, but a boy can dream. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSt_sNq6bB-0MMK9dJ0UUzb5466PV02WM1J4JZAnDw1NYcujb1yTthpl2uxqILs6RHj_iRp6kwVMgkiNShN7DWQNBcWoLvzi8L8APXMrUpb5XpIOadduD8GJx4dg_yyE3X8MLDubUyXqSZ/s1600/Coyote+Summer+20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSt_sNq6bB-0MMK9dJ0UUzb5466PV02WM1J4JZAnDw1NYcujb1yTthpl2uxqILs6RHj_iRp6kwVMgkiNShN7DWQNBcWoLvzi8L8APXMrUpb5XpIOadduD8GJx4dg_yyE3X8MLDubUyXqSZ/s640/Coyote+Summer+20.png" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I should mention that the great character actor Ed Lauter plays a cowboy horse trainer (horseboy?) who at one point is seen drinking a beer while wearing a pink shirt. You know a character actor is manly when he can pull off a pink shirt and a cowboy hat with nary a snicker from the entire crew. And yes, Vinessa is wearing a leather beret with overalls in that scene. Awesome. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNdyUdEJS2iRAC3wRxc97ftV_OCuvldkCbHjc_ctyeQwiN-MPKhf-wpysUzynG9H4sUWkaXZsSYB9vD8ueUlDy_0ZHW8NYQ9LctR6dMCqWclrJwgOjq9t_gSBWxSB1qMzsHb6WfroHr0An/s1600/Coyote+Summer+1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNdyUdEJS2iRAC3wRxc97ftV_OCuvldkCbHjc_ctyeQwiN-MPKhf-wpysUzynG9H4sUWkaXZsSYB9vD8ueUlDy_0ZHW8NYQ9LctR6dMCqWclrJwgOjq9t_gSBWxSB1qMzsHb6WfroHr0An/s640/Coyote+Summer+1.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In case you're wondering, <b>Coyote Summer</b> seems to be a perfectly all-around solid family horse picture based on my limited knowledge of the genre. It might even crack my all-time top 5 family horse picture list as a darkhouse candidate, but I can't rightfully make a top 5 all-time family horse picture list considering I think I've only seen 2 family horse pictures. Anyway...who cares. Here are a bunch more stills of Vinessa. Goodbye. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHOj8qt11Ns2StguRlEDR9KkKFMQm0rIR18tYvcIH22FgbDKdayqGB46sEfJWj6OMx34x2JkEkaO-GC215MBYzV9E12aemKXI2FFIY9E33zUhxOoJmSWXdgmZmPnCZORZM5cKcRirY9sQj/s1600/Coyote+Summer+17.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
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<span style="font-size: large;">P.S. There are a lot more shots of a horse in this movie then this review would imply.</span>Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-63514001304642427812013-06-06T17:25:00.000-04:002013-06-11T15:15:16.002-04:00FATTY GIRL GOES TO NEW YORK (1982)<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">As if you needed any more proof that our society looks down on fat people, just walk into a clothing store tailored towards large clientele. First of all, they all have condescending names like “Casual Male”, as if a euphemism for “fat lazy fuck” is better than just using the word “big”. You walk in look at the shirts, and you have a choice between a vastly overpriced bowling shirt with flames on it and a vastly overpriced T-shirt with a dog drinking beer on it. The message is clear: the hefty are a lower class of citizen that deserves a lower class of clothing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Fatty Girl Goes to New York</b> presents another perfect example of this. Two sisters living in a small Italian village are different classes of human being because one is skinny and the other one is fat. The skinny hot one is a roller skating beauty pageant contestant rocking high end fashions (if you consider garish 80’s trash aesthetic “high end”), but the fat one (Miris, played by Italian pop star Rettore wearing a fat suit, probably because they wanted an Italian pop star to play the role but they are all skinny) wears to bed something that looks like a cross between a silk air balloon and an extremely low rent clown suit, like if a fat clown that nobody respects is being used as a hot air balloon. She is later saddled with unflattering overalls (I mean, more unflattering than wearing normal overalls). This is the cross that the portly bear. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As you might imagine, a fat polkadotted clown is going to be the butt of jokes in an era of high fashion and sweaty discotheques. People call her “Cicciabomba”, which I believe is Italian for “waddling porker”. It’s also fun to say, so I’m going to call her that for the rest of the review. Her sister also teases her, and Cicciabomba responds by slapping her with greasy velocity, comedically amplified with that over the top Italian slap foley usually reserved for the scene where the rugged Italian cop on the edge violently slaps a suspect to force him to confess. There’s even a local waiter who teases her on her way to high school, but Ciccia (for short) keeps distracting him in such a way that he tumbles and drops a tray with nine glasses, as per the waiter comedy handbook. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ciccia responds to insults with violence, whether directly or indirectly, and the outcome for her is always positive. This is best exemplified in the scene where her transvestite/Marilyn Monroe impersonator friend Bimbo is being picked on by three local toughs for being a “faggot”. Ciccia comes to the rescue and throws haymakers with violent authority, like a pre-Foreman Grill George Foreman knocking out several miniature Fonzie impersonators. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This sends a worthy message to any young people watching that few movies have the balls to send. That is, the best way to deal with people who incessantly mock you or others is to punch them in the face. Give them one or two warnings at least, and then let it fly, and people will eventually stop fucking with you. I know that a fat insult and a punch are not karmically equal, but I think three fat insults is more or less equal to a palm strike to the bridge of the nose. If you’re worried that your punching technique is subpar, you can always substitute a suitable weapon, like smacking somebody in the face with a Trapper Keeper. Teen suicide is rampant, and I think we need some clever solutions to help curb the problem, as opposed to ineffective pop songs employing outdated slogans. Also, you know those horrible douchebag grown-ups who think they are better than everyone else? Nobody punched them in the face in high school. It’s a win-win on multiple levels. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">One such douchebag is studmuffin asshole Mirko, who is dating Ciccia’s sister. Ciccia falls for him, and he uses this as an opportunity to pretend to like her despite wanting to punch her in the face for being a “fat hippo”. He cruelly breaks her heart and then plays her love confessions over the school PA. This sets the table for revenge in perfect 80’s high school comedy fashion. My favorite thing she is does later on is to convince Mirko to wear a bizarre leather S & M outfit, convincing him that it’s “high fashion” (it is in certain places, but not in the manly straight world of early 80’s Italy). This is very apt revenge, as douchebags hate being called “gay” more than anything else in the world, so afraid they are of the implications of the Kinsey scale. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Naturally, Ciccia wants to get out of her small, boring provincial town and their hateful attitudes towards the portly. She works at the local radio station, and even that is run by the Catholic church, the ultimate fun police. Not only is Slayer probably a no-no, but Ciccia even gets in trouble for playing an innocuous fluffy Italian pop tune, one of several seriously catchy ass songs in the film. They threaten that she’ll be replaced by a nun who only plays Beethoven, but she wants to jam with The Police. To think there was a time when authority figures flipped their lid when they heard “De Do Do, De Da Da”, as if civilization was crumbling before their very eyes. If that wasn’t bad enough, the only disco in town IS ONLY OPEN ON EVEN DAYS! For shame. Then again, maybe if you’re into the hardcore coke fueled discoing, a day off between gyration orgies to rest up might be a good idea. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If that wasn’t enough, her crazy grandma lives with her. She has a yellow bird named Julio Iglesias, but changes his name one day to Mao Tse-tung because he’s yellow. Later, the canary falls into a vat of ink somehow, and she renames it Cassius Clay. That’s pretty fucking funny. She should write jokes for Dice Clay. However, living with that everyday would prove really annoying. The Diceman might be hilarious from afar, but how funny would he be if he was your roommate? I rest my case. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Her life clearly sucks to high heaven, but light finally shines upon her in her darkest hour. She decides to end her own life because nobody loves fat people, but first…COOKIES! Everyone gets their last meal before their final walk, and this is no different. The box of cookies is not the shining light of which I speak (although it is pretty great to be able to eat an entire box of cookies without the burden of consequence), but rather the fact that she finds a Willy Wonka-esque ticket in the box that grants her a vacation to…NEW YORK CITY! Americans are fat after all, so maybe this is where she’ll finally be able to fit in. Ciccia responds by proclaiming “I’ll kill myself another day…I won first prize!” The power of positive thinking. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lo and behold, she's in New York riding a subway escalator when a Baroness (Ursula Andress) spots her and decides to make her a star. You see, she is looking to market a weight loss drink and Cicciabomba is the perfect spokesmodel, a before and after example to captivate the masses. However, Ciccia doesn’t initially lose weight despite constant running and only drinking the shake for her daily sustenance, which is made out of swordfish bone extract (yum!). The Baroness’ assistant figures it out when he catches Ciccia shoving a hot dog down her throat while jogging, and he chastises her by saying “now we know the truth about the elephant woman!”. Well, that’s a subtle way to put it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Once hot dogs are properly vanquished from the diet, Cicciabomba turns into…HOT SKINNY POP STAR RETTORE! She sings songs and dances around, but most of all, changes into a new mindblowing 80’s outfit every seven seconds. Ciccia said she was happy being fat, but she certainly enjoys being able to wear whatever fashion she sees fit, using this as an opportunity to take the 80’s excess fashion ball and run with it right into the end zone and past the goalposts and into the stands and out the parking lot. That exemplifies another message in the movie; being fat is sorta okay, but try to lose the weight if you get around to it or if opportunity knocks. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMeo8J-SLPYcengWPcdF1pB27aB4CGvCtRsBo5NrrK83e-fRm5LWKdSYFM4pFCqYBpEztT5fLsfSoN6eget2kkNNeMzaIdM_cf07VaKSIcqPCC68ctGezm6BvkK4S6I39WAiNLrUVGsoZ5/s1600/Fatty+Girl+17.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMeo8J-SLPYcengWPcdF1pB27aB4CGvCtRsBo5NrrK83e-fRm5LWKdSYFM4pFCqYBpEztT5fLsfSoN6eget2kkNNeMzaIdM_cf07VaKSIcqPCC68ctGezm6BvkK4S6I39WAiNLrUVGsoZ5/s640/Fatty+Girl+17.png" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBB50Ko961u9HkkAm1ZY5-rPbz5O0xSS34Tx2IbdLS4DlYt9T20CY_IpiuaK2LZLGGaIt6u8t6mBnX29Ux4utfQkbzW1J7iALwJcdGcO9Bu1Xi6_Vw_NulEKKCobbr2uNhKVtIN9esekU/s1600/Fatty+Girl+21.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6RFobc_DXa5a0rxZJwBorMoMTVKD64oblPwbb_NtQUNGKvgSVOrbRSQfLyYZ2c9dx5LYECr5iLymJ9DzM3ai8Lqp9BASTt4XQtUhZYvgJLZXcXa4kdSylYlO2JPDVkbb8G0cHSBp_SY7N/s640/Fatty+Girl+20.png" width="640" /><img border="0" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBB50Ko961u9HkkAm1ZY5-rPbz5O0xSS34Tx2IbdLS4DlYt9T20CY_IpiuaK2LZLGGaIt6u8t6mBnX29Ux4utfQkbzW1J7iALwJcdGcO9Bu1Xi6_Vw_NulEKKCobbr2uNhKVtIN9esekU/s640/Fatty+Girl+21.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Along the way, Cicciabomba turns from bumbling hippo into post-disco Madonna (or pre-Madonna Madonna), inspiring not only the audience (well, me) but also a group of not fashion model female friends to join together against the tyranny of machismo with the “Club of Strong Women”, probably punching dudes in the face who make fun of their grandma sweaters (feminism in action!). She also inspires her friend Pinocchia (it’s an Italian thing folks) to get a nose job. I know I bemoaned plastic surgery in my last review, but this is a case where I think it’s okay. You see, plastic surgery is often used to fit some idealized notion of beauty, and that’s what I have a problem with. The end result for her is a regular looking nose and not a nose job nose, if that makes sense. It's really a case of her fixing a strange deformity rather than an attempt to beautify herself. Maybe this seems like a wobbly distinction, but I'll go ahead and make it anyway. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The point is that we should be able to CHOOSE the type of freak we are and not necessarily the one we're born as, whether that means losing weight or dying one's hair or chopping off a prosthetic nose, but these changes should be borne out of self-expression and not because we want to get an acting job or impress others by getting the fake tits or the George Clooney rug. In closing, I think Cicciabomba would agree that we should all get our freak on and fuck the haters.</span><br />
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-12183896504211215652013-05-26T13:39:00.003-04:002013-05-26T13:39:41.390-04:00LOOKER (1981)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don’t get plastic surgery. It’s like some sort of strange mutilation procedure that future historians will look back on and be unable to comprehend. Why would (mostly) women spend big bucks to make themselves look like a radiation experiment from some Z-grade 50’s science fiction movie? I’m not saying that people should be proud of who they naturally are, or that people who are obssessed with their looks are shallow (which are both true). No, it’s that I find it nervewracking and disturbing that the world is being infiltrated by hybrids of human and plastique. It’s like the Stepford wives are showing seams from botched repair jobs. Oh, and fake tits count. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it yet again: I like tits, not bags filled with chemicals. Any asshole can go under the sink and fill a bag with chemicals. You don’t need a woman for that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perfection is in the eye of the asshole with unrealistic expectations, and these expectations are mostly set by the advertising industry. A studio that produces commercials has even gone so far as to quantify “perfection” as a series of minute plastic surgery adjustments that are imperceptible to the naked eye, a far cry from the more typical giant ass implants or whatever. Four aspiring commercial actresses get these changes done by brilliant plastic surgeon Albert Finney in order to land these commercials. Maybe if have to get fat monster lips in order to stay in business, it’s time to get out of the business. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, for some unknown reason, these women are murdered soon after. That is, they are only worthy of death once they are “perfect”. Whoever is doing the killing uses a light gun (sort of a supercharged Nintendo Zapper) that freezes the victim and wipes the intervening hour from their memory. You know those stories about people experiencing “lost time” where they were supposedly abducted by aliens and their anal probe memories were erased? It’s sort of like that, but you can shoot it out of a gun. That’s fucking technology right there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When four of your patients end up murdered, people start asking questions, and those people wear badges and eat donuts. So, to save his own ass, Al decides to investigate. He is our guide through the confused technology of the film, which most importantly includes the studio where these commercials are filmed. The ads employ a similar technology to the light gun, where the T.V. signal zaps the schmucks at home into believing they actually need a Meat Hydrator in their lives (it turns beef jerky into regular beef per Janeane Garofalo*). Big Al is occasionally zapped by Tim Rossovich, light gun wielder and former NFL player, momentarily freezing him on his quest. Why he doesn’t just shoot him with a real gun is a bit perplexing. Even if Tim is anti-gun, he can just beat him to death. He played linebacker. I’m pretty sure he could take an aging Albert Finney. Either way, the culprit behind all of this societal disease and murder is the advertising industry. I’m not surprised. Not in the least. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Unfortunately, the movie becomes obsessed with its own technology, rather than exploring the ideas <i>behind</i> the technology. A world class satire is huddled in the corner, overwhelmed by light and flash. While it sounds like I’m knocking the movie, keep in mind that if the script lived up to its satirical potential, IT WOULD BE THE GREATEST MOVIE EVER MADE**. Barry De Vorzon (with Sue Saad) handle the amazing soundtrack, and the movie is maybe the best portrait of early 80’s ritzy L.A. caught on film. It’s like the movie is a world created entirely from Playboy Magazine ads circa the early 80’s (I read Playboy Magazine for the ads cuz the tits are fake). </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The movie aspires to be a scathing critique that uses the medium of Hollywood excess to point out the evil molding power of commercials, a level of irony few Hollywood movies would ever achieve, outside of the likes of Douglas Sirk, Brian DePalma, and Paul Verhoeven. Instead, we have a movie that is amazing as a piece of techno-pop art that also manages to sorta kinda point out that plastic surgery and T.V. commercials are complete horseshit. Maybe that’s not such an obvious point to those already blinded by the light. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">*Janeane did a promo for Comedy Central where she was hawking the “Meat Hydrator”, the opposite of “Snake Oil” Popeil’s “Meat Dehydrator”. What happens when you go crazy with the Meat Dehydrator and are up to your knees in beef jerky? Well, you pick up the Meat Hydrator and get your beef back. <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/entertainment/article/Don-t-Call-Her-a-Goofball-She-may-be-a-3031617.php#page-2">Here</a> is proof that I’m not making this up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">**sorta kinda </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">P.S. If you have a record player, make sure you pick up the self-titled debut album and swan song by Sue Saad and the Next. I guess you could listen to it on Youtube like a pussy, but whatever works I guess.</span><br />
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-84325035847968181782013-05-17T04:15:00.000-04:002013-05-17T04:17:09.154-04:00My Three Year Anniversary!<span style="font-size: large;">It's kinda crazy to think that I've been blogging for three years. That's an eternity in internet time. Now that everybody is doing the Tumblir thing and the Facebook stuff and the Friendstering out the wazoo, it feels like I'm a dinosaur clinging to outdated technology, producing long winded screeds in an era of 30 second media bites. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nevertheless, I've changed with the times by posting more screen shots and GIFs and shit. But rest assured, I will continue to write long reviews about movies nobody gives a shit about. My posting has slowed down considerably this year because I am a busy boy with a proclivity for cat naps, but I will try to post something at least once a week. You can't rush genius folks. Rushing genius only leads to garbled nonsense, crushing disappointment, and splitting headaches. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, I'd like to thank all of the cretins that have read any of my stuff over the past three years. I'm sincerely touched that you have nothing better to do. Really I am. Without you folks, this birthday party would be p<span style="font-size: large;">athetic</span> and sad. Now, here's a toast to three more years.</span><br />
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-65015434253929413192013-05-05T08:00:00.000-04:002013-05-05T08:00:12.727-04:00THE ACCUSED (1988)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">So my eyeballs are chugging along, watching this Hollywood-ized story about a rape trial. We hear various accounts of the rape incident throughout the movie, like a white trash <span style="font-size: large;">r</span>ashomon, but finally get to see it deep into the third act. Jodie Foster gets drunk at a bar, does some sexy dancing, and is then raped by three douchey <span style="font-size: large;">sleezeoids</span> right on top of a pinball machine. I was kinda buying the movie up to this point, but now<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>I have to call shenanigans. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">No rape tilt? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Once I was playing pinball as a kid, and I got frustrated and smacked the side of the machine, and a tilt alarm went off and I ran away. If the machine in the movie had went off like it was supposed to, it might have halted the rape, as the bar owner in the adjacent room would’ve heard someone messing with the <span style="font-size: large;">game</span> and came running in and yelled “NO GANG RAPE ON MY PINBALL MACHINE! TAKE IT OUTSIDE!”. While hardly a heroic breakup, this at least would’ve allowed Jodie time to get away before things got EXTRA rapey. In this world of drunken male pigishness, some men rape, a few cheer on rape, and the rest stay out of rape’s business. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, like I was saying, we hear all of the different eyewitness accounts throughout the movie without actually seeing the incident. This is how justice works, where you usually don’t have the actual crime recorded on film (except for an open and shut case like that Rodney King…oh never mind), so you have to rely on testimony and evidence. We are allowed to make up our own minds as to exactly what happened, as truth in justice is never absolute. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, once we actually see the incident in the case of <b>The Accused</b>, a very detailed account mind you, we know exactly what happened, making the justice system irrelevant in our minds. We know who is guilty of what and why, regardless of the <span style="font-size: large;">process</span>. It’s the film’s way of tying up loose ends and giving us closure, just as the music swells when a guilty verdict is reached. Imagine <b>12 Angry Men</b> showing us EXACTLY what happened right before the verdict. It has a way of nullifying all of the work of the jurors up to that point in the mind of the audience. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The guilty verdict is also a bit misleading. Jodie is raped to holy hell, barely able to speak because she was being choked at the time. She is a simple white trash girl with simple values. She doesn’t want a cash settlement, or even a book deal. She wants to see these three fuckers nailed to the wall. In other words…justice.<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Her attorney, Kelly McGillis, tries to appease her wishes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, she quickly realizes that Jodie is not much of a material witness. She was both high and drunk at the time, has a criminal record and, worst of all, has a personalized license plate saying SXY SADI. It’s an unfortunate fact that a woman with the word SEX on her license plate is more likely to get raped then ones who do not. I guess men see the word “sex” and then see a female associated with that word and put two and two together and come to the conclusion that this woman is advertising. A bit literal minded, me thinks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, since Kelly realizes the chance for victory is slim, she accepts a plea bargain for the three rapists of “reckless endangerment”. She celebrates this “victory” with her yuppie lawyer friends, and Jodie crashes the party in angry fashion, having only heard about it on television (while working as a baseball themed waitress, which we need more of in this country, for the record). Jodie has good reason to be angry. Not only did Kelly not consult Jodie on her decision to except the plea bargain, she didn’t even bother to tell her afterwards. Granted, she’s an assistant D.A. and not hired directly as a lawyer by Jodie, but I think some basic communication would’ve been common courtesy in this case. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Kelly takes this conversation to heart, and tries to earn victory for Jodie by attempting to put away the dudes that cheered on the gang rape. This hardly seems like “true justice”, but Kelly points out that, if the cheerleaders are convicted, the rape will be on file in some form, rather than just a case of “endangerment”. Seems like some semantical wordplay to me, except that it could set a precedent that would prevent guys from cheering on gang rapes in the future, at least state wide, but then gang rape cheerleaders will just move to another state. But hey, a start is a start. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, this change of heart is conveyed with the most boring cinematic trick in the book: the lawyer montage. Kelly stays up all night, eyeball deep in case histories, looking for an arcane case or obscure legalese to nail some sleaze to the wall. Of course, her male pig district attorney yells at her and threatens her job for even contemplating such a case. However, he makes some sense, however theatrically. If you can’t prosecute rape, how are you gonna prosecute the cheering on of rape? She is also clearly doing this out of feeling bad for Jodie, and well know a lawyer with feelings about other human beings is a lawyer destined to fail.<span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span><b>The Accused</b> is loosely based on a real case, but this turn of character and resulting decision reeks of forced Hollywood heroism and closure. Then again, my knowledge of the inner workings of the legal mind mostly comes from repeated viewings of <b>Soul Man</b>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, basically, what we have here is another mostly boring, Hollywood-ized courtroom drama. What makes it stand apart is Jodie’s performance, both appropriately amping up the white trash tics while keeping things rooted in the character’s emotional turmoil, and giving it a New York method mumbler edge. My favorite bit of acting from her is the scene where she calls her nagging mother and wants to tell her about the rape, but can’t bring herself to do so. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The movie also introduces a rape paradox that may have been cutting edge circa 198<span style="font-size: large;">8</span> (or hopefully just common sense). That is, a drunk slut deserves as much legal protection from rape as a nun, yet a drunk slut is going to have a hard time winning a rape case. Perhaps a combination of forensic science and the proliferation of camera phones will help us eventually close this gap. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Personally, I th<span style="font-size: large;">ink </span>s</span>luts are awesome<span style="font-size: large;"> and, m</span>aybe I’m in the minority, but not only do I think <span style="font-size: large;">that </span>they deserve equal treatment, but I’ll go one step further and say that they should be protected as national treasures, or at least be given a substantial tax break.<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>The sad reality is that, if sluts keep getting raped, pretty soon there aren’t going to be any of them left, and that is a sad America I don’t want any part of. So, do your part my fellow citizens and punch rapists in the balls or at least alert the authorities. Together we can fight this scourge and protect the most esteemed segment of our population. </span><br />
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-23933390756277841982013-04-17T00:46:00.001-04:002013-06-14T03:47:19.373-04:00LEGION OF IRON (1990)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbPcyW6LpHVK35HPBm7tdG7pJL_rlRAyF6yBNcYTRDyaQxoUhHvmkx900Uz64lSh9Nrga8aFRzKTn6COs72V-RaSek39rNVCf6E9934lbqaoN5Wcf2p3EOhR2kTZiTchkufBMNql_KEqbs/s1600/LoI12.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbPcyW6LpHVK35HPBm7tdG7pJL_rlRAyF6yBNcYTRDyaQxoUhHvmkx900Uz64lSh9Nrga8aFRzKTn6COs72V-RaSek39rNVCf6E9934lbqaoN5Wcf2p3EOhR2kTZiTchkufBMNql_KEqbs/s320/LoI12.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">If I had to guess, Diana used to be a bored housewife with money up the wazoo when, one day, she decided to finally be good to herself and appease her inner sexual desires. Some ladies are content with just schnooking the milkman, but Diana creates an underground society with an entire fleet of soldiers and crowns herself queen,<span style="font-size: large;"> forcing</span> greased up dudes to fight to the death, gladiator style, boinking the victor if she so chooses. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpgcMKN9Y-OhUC26MpBpdIJhc08txydSIneiBPFZnhz3aEh-BrWgUMyCtAvd7GawgC9praDkTpHi5jPADbjzgSgwn47nGC-W5Mw0hh7AM6_iVgwgpkxrNjrF_A0WJifDEPfD1zOSpFMflr/s1600/LoI10.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpgcMKN9Y-OhUC26MpBpdIJhc08txydSIneiBPFZnhz3aEh-BrWgUMyCtAvd7GawgC9praDkTpHi5jPADbjzgSgwn47nGC-W5Mw0hh7AM6_iVgwgpkxrNjrF_A0WJifDEPfD1zOSpFMflr/s320/LoI10.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Sounds like an expensive "to do" just to get your rocks off, but the funding is aided by several high fallutin' businessmen who gamble on the attraction. Still, it must have cost millions to start the entire enterprise, what with the complex itself and the fleet of soldiers and the helicopter they transport the combatants in after they're kidnapped. We're talking a level of crotch-fueled<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>devotion that is truly once-in-a-lifetime. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdahD7Lyf-Y30Ffb5LjtAlPd46jtQ5CbG1Z-m1B_eSzS5QRMICod6MSni5WOcvJVOiiQBYekRVuvXERO8FXBolM51FXSPFXMCA56gMIspoeRHtrxsWSHEGlpps0Pg0h5dHLg57rvULTUBZ/s1600/loI8.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdahD7Lyf-Y30Ffb5LjtAlPd46jtQ5CbG1Z-m1B_eSzS5QRMICod6MSni5WOcvJVOiiQBYekRVuvXERO8FXBolM51FXSPFXMCA56gMIspoeRHtrxsWSHEGlpps0Pg0h5dHLg57rvULTUBZ/s320/loI8.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, Billy and his girlfriend are kidnapped and he is forced to fight for his freedom and his <span style="font-size: large;">newly distressed damsel</span>.<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Billy's pretty slight for an a<span style="font-size: large;">ction hero</span>, despite being a football player, but luckily a sweaty dude that <span style="font-size: large;">occasionally</span> wears a checkered half-shirt trains Billy and turns him into a still slight but not incompetent fighting machine. </span><span style="font-size: large;">That's pretty much the<span style="font-size: large;"> entire plot folks, if you care a<span style="font-size: large;">bout such things.</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDbQb9uwKX1qkPGou5-a_Ck9Bw3Pfy51Mx6QiB1gTx0wfS_lGYDqq3N0Ntkrz21PX86TTRehYGq0u_CumTSjD9Hp4Z7kjIR6SEWMygFzsvrlN1CqGKFbirAAa6LE1l9-LwEngfQUnoCulq/s1600/LoI13.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDbQb9uwKX1qkPGou5-a_Ck9Bw3Pfy51Mx6QiB1gTx0wfS_lGYDqq3N0Ntkrz21PX86TTRehYGq0u_CumTSjD9Hp4Z7kjIR6SEWMygFzsvrlN1CqGKFbirAAa6LE1l9-LwEngfQUnoCulq/s320/LoI13.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Despite a few wonderfully ludicrous action moments, <b>Legion of Iron</b> is not about action really, but rather, <span style="font-size: large;">a</span> three<span style="font-size: large;">-</span>headed monster of confused fashion (a mind altering combination of gladiator wear, 80's futuristic clothes, and low rent late 80's fashion), <span style="font-size: large;">some of the most homoerotic</span> training sequences I've ever seen <span style="font-size: large;">(</span>and god knows I've seen some homoerotic training sequences), and the central performance of Erika Nann as the evil queen Diana, slipping into a garish new<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>outfit for every scene and unleashing a <span style="font-size: large;">catty barrage of</span> dominatrix<span style="font-size: large;">-ism<span style="font-size: large;">s</span></span>. I think the movie is best viewed as some sort of bizarre fetish fashion show rather than an action-packed throwback to those gladiator movies of yore. In that spirit, here are a bunch of screenshots from the movie, along with three gifs at the end that spoil several of the most WTF action moments. Enjoy.</span><br />
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<br />Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-64704850930571103082013-04-02T02:17:00.001-04:002013-04-13T21:44:52.607-04:00SLAUGHTER HIGH (1986)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Marty is a classic school nerd<span style="font-size: large;">;</span> meaning, he is forced to suffer for having a superior intellect. Luckily for him, the lovely Caroline Munro is using the April Fool’s holiday as an opportunity to have naughty bathroom sex with the biggest geek in school, another classic example of festive holiday emotions overriding the intellect, or, specifically in this case, the reptilian part of the brain that disseminates high school cliques. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> <i><span style="font-size: small;">THOSE are boots</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After some verbal flirtation, he waits for her in a shower stall, noticing that somebody wrote “Marty sucks!” on the wall. <span style="font-size: large;">R</span>ealizing that his life is finally on the upswing, what with love on the horizon, he slyly uses a pen to turn it into a “Marty fucks!” message, perhaps counting his beavers before they are properly burrowed. Sure enough, while Caroline continues to distract him with sexy talk, an entire film/prank crew sneak in. Marty, now bareassed naked, gets sprayed with a fire extinguisher, and then gets his head repeatedly dunked in the toilet. A<span style="font-size: large;">ll</span> in all, a pretty rocky start to his first meaningful human relationship. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thankfully, a coach catches these hooligans and forces them to do push ups, as that is the only form of punishment that coaches understand (filmed as a retread of a similar scene in <b>Carrie</b>, especially with the music). Marty is now by himself in the science lab, lighting a joint with a <span style="font-size: large;">b</span>unsen burner, looking to 70’s high school burnout culture for inspiration in his newfound quest for cool. He’s also making some mysterious potion, presumably for revenge purposes, but some asshole sneaks some powder into his beaker when his back is turned. The combo proves explosive, setting the lab on fire and causing a jar of acid to explode in Marty’s face. <span style="font-size: large;">Well, <span style="font-size: large;">a</span></span>t least now he has a legitimate excuse to get out of gym class. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Whatta <span style="font-size: large;">ya <span style="font-size: large;">know</span></span></span>, Caroline Munro awakens, and apparently everything before was a dream sequence…or maybe a flashback. Whatever. Anyway, she is now a struggling actress with a shoddy American accent, and her agent is trash producer extraordinaire Dick Randall, but even his slimy charms can’t convince her to do some sleazy exploitation movie. During the phone conversation, she mentions that her ten year high school reunion is coming up, providing contextual chronology and forward plot thrust with mere telephonic exposition. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Caroline shows up at the high school reunion along with all of the assholes from the opening scene, but the decrepit and abandoned school is locked up. Naturally, they hang out and get drunk until it gets dark, and then break in and stay the night. They find lockers that correspond to each respective asshole, including relics from the Marty prank and resulting “accident”. Th<span style="font-size: large;">is</span> memory refresher prompts them to stand around and discuss what happened to Marty after that fateful day. Apparently, he went completely bonkers and his face never recovered. No longer “fit for human company”, he got a job working for IBM (I guess the movie was written by an Apple <span style="font-size: large;">user</span>), which is where the hardcore nerds usually end up, assuming they survive high school. There is also some guy in a jester mask roaming the hallway, which may or may not factor into this somehow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, they start doing what a typical 28-year-old would do in 1986: snort cocaine. They bump into the token black caretaker, who used to be the token black janitor during their high school days. Being that he’s black and superfluous, the joker immediately impales his head on a coat rack. Admittedly, I should’ve seen that one coming. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The biggest douche in the group, Skip, thankfully gets a trick played on him. He has to drop a quarter off his forehead and into a funnel <span style="font-size: large;">stuck down</span> his pants. Of course, somebody sneaks some cold water into the funnel, freezing his crotch. Another guy drinks some PBR by slitting it with a knife and pounding it down<span style="font-size: large;">, </span>which is how everyone used to drink PBR back in the day, before the hipsters got a hold of it. His gets an upset stomach, so much so that he recreates the scene from <b>Alien</b><span style="font-size: large;"> (maybe the script was written by a M<span style="font-size: large;">i</span>ller Hi<span style="font-size: large;">gh Life fan).</span> </span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The group finds the PBR bit a might suspicious, so they try and escape, but the doors and windows are locked, and the entire school is surrounded by electrified fencing all of a sudden. The Asian girl, particularly freaked out by the incident, decides to relieve some stress by taking a bath. My high school sure as hell didn’t have bathtubs in the washrooms, but maybe this was one of those fancy high schools, “replete with accoutrements”, as a fancypants might <span style="font-size: large;">use to describe</span> the fanciest car ever. Unfortunately, the water <span style="font-size: large;">b<span style="font-size: large;">ecomes</span></span> acid, and she is quickly reduced to a skeleton. Later, a couple takes advantage of some down time whilst being stalked, running off to have sex but unfortunately choosing to do so in an electrified bed. I guess it’s understandable that someone would want to take a break from all of the horror and the murder to relax and soak in the various high end amenities that their former high school has to offer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Even for the pluckier reunion attendees, survival proves futile. One dude somehow manages to get through the electrified fencing, safely getting to a car…but gets stabbed by somebody <span style="font-size: large;">hid</span>ing in the back seat. Figures. They find a getaway riding lawnmower, but alas, it’s shitty and broken, and the one guy that can fix it is promptly murdered. Then there’s the blonde who is chased out of the school by the killer, potentially fleeing to freedom, but actually falling through a trap door and into an underground tar pit. I HATE it when that happens. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Much of the finale involves the killer chasing Caroline throughout the abandoned school. It’s a great, authentic looking location (meaning, the filmmakers just found an abandoned school, broke in, and started filming), and you get plenty of endless steadicam shots that provide a nice sense of the spatial dynamics. Munro also happens upon a toilet overflowing with blood at one point, a nifty homage to <b>The Conversation</b> if you are combing the frame for such things. There are also two occasions where the killer smashes through a door that has a Marty poster hanging on it. I don’t know why there would be large posters hanging up of the biggest nerd in school, but it looks cools I guess when the jester dude busts through them. For the record, I’m not saying the Marty poster necessarily has any correlation with the murders. They could be completely separate, unlinked events. I’m not a plot spoiler folks. Not me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">(I GUESS THERE ARE SPOILERS AHEAD, BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S GOING)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If all of this wasn’t enough, there’s also a scene where we get to see zombified versions of all the victims (including Caroline with giant zombified hair), in a room overrun by fog and red and blue lights, and there’s even a <b>Dawn of the Dead</b> homage. Zombies? There’s just a lot of shit going on in this one folks…oh wait, Marty just woke up. It was all a dream. Jesus Christ. He’s apparently recovering in the nut house from being drenched in acid, but somehow manage<span style="font-size: large;">d</span> to keep a job at IBM. I guess he was networking with a rudimentary form of the internet. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He dresses up as a nurse (<b>Dressed to Kill</b> homage, which means <span style="font-size: large;">two</span> DePalma homages in one movie, which makes me feel fuzzy; well, fuzzier than usual), shoves a needle in a doctor’s eye, stares into the camera, and then tears the latex make-up off his face. Honestly, I’m fucking confused at this point. So, he wasn’t drenched in sulfuric acid to begin with? Was the acid fake? Was he wearing a fake face that was melted by the acid? I’d say “I give up” if I hadn’t already given up a long time ago. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Slaughter High</b> is most known for the sad fact that the guy that played Marty (Simon Scuddamore) killed himself shortly after filming was completed. It would be easy to suggest that he was an actual nerd himself, for reals attempting to hit the big time by getting a job with IBM. In the mean time, he took a job as the lead in a slasher film for some walking around money. Having to re-suffer through his high school years, coupled with the professional failure of only landing a gig as a programmer for some small time computer guy named “Steve Jobs”, he unfortunately was sent over the edge. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, it could just as easily be that he was a brilliant actor who was in fact, in real life, a super cool stud with average intelligence. His acting career never got off the ground, minus playing some geek killer in a slasher, and he decided to end his life, since casting directors could<span style="font-size: large;">n'</span>t appreciate his uncanny ability to appear smarter than he actually was. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That’s why people who decide to commit suicide should always leave a note. Otherwise, dumbasses like myself will just make up stories that seem to make sense based on <span style="font-size: large;">what</span> little information that is available (which would be no information, in this case). Well, at least it’s more fun than peering into a broken heart of darkness and attempting to find words to describe the unwavering void. That shit is, like, boring or whatever. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">P.S. This movie was o<span style="font-size: large;">rigi<span style="font-size: large;">nally titl<span style="font-size: large;">ed "April Fool's Day", but was changed cuz there was that other movie. So, it's <span style="font-size: large;">my April Fool's Day review, if <span style="font-size: large;">it wasn't already clear. No joke. Seriously.</span></span></span></span></span> </span>Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-51530827845614313952013-03-17T19:55:00.003-04:002013-03-17T19:56:40.341-04:00TOP 30 FAVORITE FILMS OF 2012 - #15-1<span style="font-size: large;">15<span style="font-size: large;">)</span> <b>Extraterrestrial</b> (dir-Nacho Vigalondo)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://cinemagonzo.blogspot.com/2012/06/extraterrestrial-2011.html">Review</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">14) <b>Tomboy</b> (dir-Celine Sciamma)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A quiet<span style="font-size: large;">ly observational piece</span> about a young girl that moves to a new town and is mistaken for a boy<span style="font-size: large;">. She then decides to </span>adopt this identity in order to fit in. One of the best movies that I've seen about the social dynamic of young people, and nowhere near as forced as it sounds.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">13<span style="font-size: large;">) </span><b>Skyfall</b> (dir-Sam Mendes)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A nice split between the more character based <b>Casino Royale</b> and the more set piece based, visually expressive <b>Quantum of Solace</b>. Probably my favorite Craig Bond by a hair.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">12) <b>The Turin Horse</b> (dir-Bela Tarr) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A poor farming couple pin their hopes on an old broken down horse that once belonged to <span style="font-size: large;">Nietzsche</span>, struggl<span style="font-size: large;">ing as they are in a</span> barren wasteland <span style="font-size: large;">whilst being perpe<span style="font-size: large;">tually</span></span> smothered by cruel, fierce winds. Naturally, pizazz f<span style="font-size: large;">uel<span style="font-size: large;">ed</span></span> <span style="font-size: large;">shenanigans</span> ensue. Well, not really. If there can ever be said to be a post-apocalyptic neo-realist farming movie, this is it. It’s also one of the windiest movies ever made, perhaps only supplanted by</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> the obscure western <b>Gun Fever</b><span style="font-size: large;"> and<b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></b></span></span><b>Twiste<span style="font-size: large;">r.</span></b> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">11) <b>Good for Nothing</b> (dir-Mike Wallis)</span><br />
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<a href="http://cinemagonzo.blogspot.com/2012/02/good-for-nothing-2011-in-old-west.html"><span style="font-size: large;">Review</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">10) <b>Jiro Dreams of Sushi</b> (dir-David Gelb)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you thought <span style="font-size: large;">s</span>ushi porn couldn’t be spiritually uplifting and a treatise on a working life lived well, then you’ll be surprised by this one. If you expect exactly that from sushi porn, you have really high expectations for your sushi porn if I may be so bold.<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>I don’t even eat sushi, so I really had no <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">preconceived</span> notions before seeing this movie</span>, but now I associate sushi, not with the taste of raw fish, but with spiritual uplift and a working life well lived. If you can figure out what the fuck I just wrote, you will have <span style="font-size: large;">taken your first ste<span style="font-size: large;">p</span></span> on <span style="font-size: large;">the</span> path to enlightenment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">9) <b>Klown</b> (dir-Mikkel Norgaard)</span><br />
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<a href="http://cinemagonzo.blogspot.com/2012/07/klown-2010.html"><span style="font-size: large;">Review</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">8) <b>Killer Joe</b> (dir-William Friedkin) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I thought my family was fucked up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">7) <b>Silver Linings Playbook</b> (dir-David O. Russell) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not the rom-com it was seemingly advertised as, but another damn fine patented David O. Russell screwball comedy of which only he can pull off (see <b>I Heart Huckabees</b> and <b>Flirting With Disaster</b>). Well, make that screwball dramedy, dealing with the <span style="font-size: large;">issue of</span> bi-polar d<span style="font-size: large;">i</span>sorder as well as just good old <span style="font-size: large;">fashioned </span>failed expectations in life, but not being heavy about it. One could argue that the ending is in the realm of “forced Hollywood bullshit closure”, but I feel it was a knowing and amusing take on such endings, pushed into the realm of the fittingly absurd (fitting for the absurdity of life portrayed in the film). </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bradley Cooper goes beyond any notion of a good looking leading man aiming for Oscar Gold by footstompingly exhibiting a <span style="font-size: large;">psychiatric</span> tic, but instead totally embodies the character and fucking delivers. Jennifer Lawrence delivers too, but we already knew she would. By the way, I enjoyed J-Law’s (I’m calling her “J-Law” from now on because I am annoying) <span style="font-size: large;">non-committal</span> goth style for the 1st half of the picture.<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Of course, she’s yummy when she’s wearing the tights and doing the dancing stuff, but that’s a given. My only major complaint is that J-Law didn’t combine the “<span style="font-size: large;">non-committal</span> goth” look with her “uber-spandex athletic dancer” look<span style="font-size: large;">; </span>maybe black tights with a Smiths shirt or something. It's a minor issue I know, but I have to complain about s<span style="font-size: large;">hit in order to f<span style="font-size: large;">i</span>ll up these posts.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">6) <b>Argo</b> (dir-Ben Affleck)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe it is all Hollywoodized (as a dumbass American I wouldn’t know), but the poor man’s Casey Affleck delivers in this combination of real world thriller and amusing comedy<span style="font-size: large;">, </span>milking the absurdity of the setup and <span style="font-size: large;">letting Alan </span>Arkin<span style="font-size: large;"> rip through some sweet one-line<span style="font-size: large;">rs.</span> </span>Laugh<span style="font-size: large;">ter</span> and tension is a tough combination to pull off, considering a lot of Hollywood comedies produce no laughs whatsoever, and a lot of Hollywood thrillers produce no tension whatsoever. I gently chide Ben as being the poor man’s Casey Affleck as an actor, but maybe Casey is the homeless man’s Ben Affleck as a director. However, I haven’t seen <b>Gone Baby Gone</b> or <b>The Town</b>, nor Casey's directori<span style="font-size: large;">al effort <b>I'm Still Here</b>, so I can't</span> really say exactly, but Casey might get knocked <span style="font-size: large;">down a step on <span style="font-size: large;">the</span></span> Affleck family <span style="font-size: large;">ladder if </span>I ever eventually see them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">5) <b>Django Unchained </b>(dir-Quentin Tarantino)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Third act issues aside, Waltz and Foxx deliver big time, with layered flamboyance and stoic anger, <span style="font-size: large;">respectively</span>, in this rich and satisfying revenge western that thankfully isn’t overly homage heavy (or to put it another way, the homage doesn’t override the characters and the thrust of the story). Oh, and like <b>Inglourious Basterds</b>, another kickass soundtrack that maybe shouldn’t work but does. I’m digging this new QT style, sort of a nice balance between the likes of <b>Kill Bill</b> and the likes of <b>Jackie Brown</b>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">4) <b>The Master</b> (dir-Paul Thomas Anderson)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A riveting two-person psychodrama that thankfully doesn’t go the easy route of sledgehammering Scientology (not that Scientology doesn’t deserve to be sledgehammered, just that doing so for 140 minutes would be boring and pedantic). Instead, we see the <span style="font-size: large;">very human motivations</span> every step of the way for both master and student, at a time when <span style="font-size: large;">psycho-therapy</span> was in its infancy and the resulting void was easily filled.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">3)<b> Moonrise Kingdom</b> (dir-Wes Anderson)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">An adorable and warm coming of age romance layered with charming quirk instead of upstaged by it (although it gets close to doing so at several points). In that sense, it <span style="font-size: large;">w</span>orked a bit better <span style="font-size: large;">for me</span> than the family-pain-layered-in-not-quite-as-charming-quirk that was p<span style="font-size: large;">resent in <b>The </b></span><b>Royal Tenenbaums</b>, maybe because the approach here better<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>suits a child<span style="font-size: large;">-</span>like world. Now <span style="font-size: large;">m</span>y second favorite Wes Anderson movie after <b>Rushmore</b>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">2) <b>Poolboy: Drowning Out the Fury</b> (dir-Garrett Brawith)</span><br />
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<a href="http://cinemagonzo.blogspot.com/2012/03/poolboy-drowning-out-fury-2011-action.html"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">R</span>eview</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">1) <b>Amour</b> (dir-Michael Haneke)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Descri<span style="font-size: large;">bed by several critics</span> as “a story of true love”, I saw it as more of a horror movie where Trintignant’s character tries to stay strong and hold his life together (and hold on to his wife), but he can’t shake the unrele<span style="font-size: large;">nting </span>spectre of death. I know most everyone else thinks this is a complete departure for Haneke, but I think it fits right in with his other films while offering something new (his first film <b>The Seventh Continent</b> was about the horrifying domestic <span style="font-size: large;">disintegration</span> of a similarly named couple). However, <b>Amour</b> lacks the <span style="font-size: large;">judgmental</span> eye of the likes of <b>Cache</b> and <b>Funny Games</b>, instead presenting a horrifying scenario where there is no right or wrong answer, no good guys or bad guys, but doing so with compassion and beauty; an amazing feat indeed.
</span>Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-67456535977009992782013-03-09T20:59:00.000-05:002013-03-17T19:56:14.152-04:00TOP 30 FAVORITE FILMS OF 2012 #30-16<span style="font-size: large;">I thought 2012 was a strong year for movies, based simply on the fact that it was hard to narrow down a top 30 best of list. Hell, I could've come up with a top 50 and felt good about it. Part of it is that I probably aimed to watch more new movies this past year than ever before, and part of it is that I waited until March to see most of what I wanted to see. Still, maybe filmmakers are finally catching up to my tastes and making shit I would want to see. I've been writing hate letters addressed to "The Mayor of Movie Land" for years, so I'd like to think that, finally, that fat son of a bitch is listening. Anyway, here it goes...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Honorable Mention (in no order): </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Farewell, My Queen</b> (dir-Benoit Jacquot) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>White – Melody of Death</b> (dir-Gok and Sun Kim) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Foreign Letters</b> (dir-Ela Thier) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Innkeepers</b> (dir-Ti West) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Marina Abramovic: The Artist is Present</b> (dir-Matthew Akers &<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Jeff Dupre) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Pact</b> (dir-Nicholas McCarthy) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Avengers</b> (dir-Joss Whedon) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Bernie</b> (dir-Richard Linklater) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Ambassador</b> (dir-Mads Brugger) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Imposter</b> (dir-Bart Layton) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">30) <b>Beyond the Black Rainbow</b> (dir-Panos Cosmatos) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://cinemagonzo.blogspot.com/search/label/Beyond%20the%20Black%20Rainbow%20%282010%29">Review</a> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">29) <b>Tim and Eric’s Billion Dollar Movie</b> (dir-Tim Heidecker &<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Eric Wareheim) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It’s Tim and Eric doing a satire on Hollywood! What’s not to love? I hate saying this kind of thing, but you’re either on board or you’re not. Sure, it doesn’t exactly flow together like a full length movie should (the same could be said for <span style="font-size: large;">t</span>he <b>Aqua Teen Hunger Force</b> <span style="font-size: large;">m</span>ovie, which I equally loved), but it does present a world where you can basically wander around a Tim and Eric themed shithole shopping mall, and that is fucking awesome. I mean, if you’re willing to pretend that you’re inside the actual movie and shit. The point is, I managed to get my Tim and Eric poke on, and that’s a good thing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">28) <b>The Dark Knight Rises</b> (Dir-Christopher Nolan) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Aside from<span style="font-size: large;"> t</span>he ending and a few dumbass plot holes, this was a very worthy followup to <b>The Dark Knight</b>, with Nolan taking a standard villain/superhero conflict and pushing it into darker and heavier territory. Bane was effectively portrayed as hating authority and society itself, <span style="font-size: large;">while</span> Batman was tired and wounded. Usually, the evil guy is evil for no reason, and the good guy is always up for the challenge, so that was a nice change of pace. Also, I got the genuine feeling of an entire city that is realistically nearing total collapse, and not just some Rolland Emmerich bullshit where all the buildings collapse into CGI dust all at once just because. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">27) <b>A Separation</b> (dir-Asghar Farhadi) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nader is an asshole that refuses to let his wife get a much deserved divorce, and continues being an asshole through major plot developments which shall remain unspoiled. A totally realistic drama that manages to become more and more gripping by raising the dramatic stakes without ever feeling melodramatic or forced. There are no heroes or villains, just people, although asshole Nader comes close to being a villain, but elicits the viewer’s sympathy on account that he is forced to care for his invalid father, and he also gets a bit of a pass considering that his religion and society seem to promote a particularly asshole-y brand of chauvinism which might be misconstrued for villainry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">26) <b>The Hunter</b> (dir-Daniel Nettheim) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Will<span style="font-size: large;">e</span>m Dafoe <span style="font-size: large;">d</span>oes Herzog-sploitation (like Refn with the great <b>Valhalla Rising</b>) in this story about a hunter torn between his quest (tracking down a mythical tiger) and humanity itself, represented by his burgeoning role as a surrogate father. I loved the attention paid to Dafoe’s hunting process, the details of the world where he feels the most comfortable in, away from other<span style="font-size: large;">s</span>. Then there’s the <span style="font-size: large;">effectively mysterious and </span>foreboding landscape that Dafoe is ultimately drawn to, like many a Herzogian hero. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">25) <b>The Snowtown Murders</b> (dir-Justin Kurzel) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A horror movie that is more <span style="font-size: large;">horrifying</span> because it doesn’t fit into a horror movie structure, but instead is more of a ragged drama that shows the myriad of ways a family can disintegrate when there is a psycho at the head of the table. Congrats to Daniel Henshall for portraying one of the most believable sick fuck nutbags in recent movie history. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">24) <b>Take This Waltz</b> (dir-Sarah Polley) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes <span style="font-size: large;">a marriage</span> just doesn’t quite work, even though both parties <span style="font-size: large;">have </span>good hearted inte<span style="font-size: large;">ntions </span>and are seemingly <span style="font-size: large;">in love</span>, and Michelle Williams and Seth Rogan makes us feel every moment of it. Yes, THAT Seth Rogan, who delivers the surprise dramedy performance of the year. Also, I don’t think I’ll ever listen to that Buggles song quite the same way again. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Also, <span style="font-size: large;">s</span>ince you’re asking, yes, you can also see Sarah
Silverman’s bush in th<span style="font-size: large;">e</span> movie. If you’ve already seen her bush
(perhaps you bumped into her at a Whole Foods in Echo Park and asked
politely), please ignore this message.</span>Also, the movie is one more reason why Sarah Polley is awesome, and here’s another reason: </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">23) <b>The Wicker Tree</b> (dir-Robin Hardy) </span><br />
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<a href="http://cinemagonzo.blogspot.com/search/label/Wicker%20Tree%20%282010%29"><span style="font-size: large;">Review</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">22) <b>The Deep Blue Sea</b> (dir-Terence Davies) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tom Middleston is a perpetually drunken jerk married to the quietly suffering Rachel Weisz, trapped in a marriage based in believable love instead of plot mechanics or forceful imprisonment. A stripped down marriage-tragedy from the great and underappreciated Davies, retaining his trademark operetta touches without taking away from the heart wrenching kitchen sinkiness of it all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">21) <b>Holy Motors</b> (dir-Leos Carax) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The most original movie of the year with maybe the most impressive performance of the year from the great Denis Lavant (also amazing in Carax’s <b>Lovers on the Bridge</b>). It’s a series of scenarios where Lavant takes on different characters and engages in oddball mini-adventures, like a series of carnival rides where he adopts a movie character and indulges in a strange variation on silent comedy. It also acts as an fun and inventive satire on modern Hollywood (and movies in general). </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">20) <b>Monsieur Lazhar</b> (dir-Philippe Falardeau) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The titular Monsieur (the fantastic and endearing Mohamed Fellag) is an Algerian immigrant teacher in Montreal that replaces another teacher who committed suicide right there in the classroom (bad day at work I guess). Like <b>The Class</b>, this is an authentic portrayal of class room life among young students, but is more emotionally touching, like a <b>Dead Poet’s Society</b> that isn’t manipulative Hollywood B.S. (although I haven’t seen <b>Dead Poet’s Society</b>, but whatevs). Also, Monsieur is just damn charming and the movie is actually funny. Kids can be humorous instead of annoying when they are allowed to be natural and are not force fed “cute” lines. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">19) <b>Last Days Here</b> (dir-Don Argott <span style="font-size: large;">& </span>Demian Fenton) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The story of Bobby Liebling, former lead singer of fairly unheralded but awesome doom metal band Pentagram. Bobby has since fallen on harder than hard times, and then f<span style="font-size: large;">a</span>llen into a pit of darkness, at the bottom of which are harderer times. He’s a destitute older man who lives in his parent’s basement, look<span style="font-size: large;">ing</span> even older on account of his addiction to crack and heroin. However, he manages to overcome this impossible station in life and acquires his old band back, a new record deal, and even a hot young girlfriend. Strangely, this is one of the most life affirming movies of the year, made even more so by the fact that it’s all real. That, my friends, is the power of metal. METAL!!!! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">18) <b>The Kid with a Bike</b> (dir-Jean-Pierre <span style="font-size: large;">& </span>Luc Dardenne) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A truthful and well observed portrait of a child who is extremely angry about being abandoned and essentially alone in the world, but is unable to understand or cope with this anger. Another great film from the ever reliant Dardennes about the specific emotional consequences that shitty absentee parenting can have on kids (like REALLY absentee). </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">17) <b>God Bless America </b>(dir-Bobcat Goldthwait) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A<span style="font-size: large;">l</span>ong with <b>The World’s Greatest Dad </b>(which made my list the year it came out), this cements Bobscratch Goldfarb as a new pioneer of satirical black comedies, combining a great comic mind, righteous indignation, and balls for miles. I know the movie is awfully reliant on the lesser Murray giving endless speeches about things he hates, but you gotta let some shit slide when western civilization hangs in the balance. Hopefully this isn’t all just a precursor to Bobscratch landing a sweet, high paying sell<span style="font-size: large;">-</span>out<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>gig as the director of the eventual <b>Police Academy</b> reboot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">16) <b>Hello I Must be Going</b> (dir-Todd Louiso) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Melanie Lynsky of <b>Heavenly Creatures</b> fame stars in this indie romance that reminds me of the great indie movie character pieces we got before annoying quirk became the norm. She plays a dumped wife in her 30’s that has to move back in with her parents. <span style="font-size: large;">Her </span>plan o<span style="font-size: large;">f</span> vegging out, feeling sorry for herself, and figuring out what to do next with her life<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>goes awry when she has a fling with a 19<span style="font-size: large;">-</span>year-old actor. Both unforced humor and cringe inducing moments arise naturally out of the characters trying to manage through their awkward lives. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">N<span style="font-size: large;">umbers #<span style="font-size: large;">1-15 coming in a few days or so. Pati<span style="font-size: large;">ence p<span style="font-size: large;">eople.</span></span></span></span> Patience.</span><br />
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Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452866540649411401.post-62695788481733242572013-03-01T01:26:00.001-05:002013-06-14T03:48:39.398-04:00SUPER (2010) - gifs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">A genuinely smart and hilarious firebombing of the superhero mystique, <b>Super</b> (2010) achieves what <b><a href="http://cinemagonzo.blogspot.com/2010/05/kick-ass-2010-because-collective.html?zx=cdf319a5b9e0f370">Kick-Ass</a></b> couldn't quite manage. You see, a dude running around in spandex and beating up people in the real world just isn't clean and logical like it is in comic books or the movies. Rainn Wilson plays a hopeless schlub whose life is in the shitter, so he decides to dress up like a schmuck (yes, a schlub disguised as a schmuck), dub himself "<span style="font-size: large;">T</span>he Crimson Bolt", and then unleash his hidden violent tendencies and take his schlubby frustrations on <span style="font-size: large;">people</span> engaging in any kind of criminal behavior<span style="font-size: large;">. Any at all. </span>If he spots some dude buying a dimebag, he pulls out his trusty red wrench and beats him within an inch of his life. This is why real law and order requires checks and balances; the most morally <span style="font-size: large;">indigent</span> <span style="font-size: large;">citizens</span> also tend to be crazies, and justice can be a<span style="font-size: large;"> pretty</span> emotionally childish endeavo<span style="font-size: large;">r. When <span style="font-size: large;">the justification for violence is backed by</span></span> childish emotion, stupidity, o<span style="font-size: large;">r just plain old </span>nutbaggery, bad shit <span style="font-size: large;">usually results</span>. Take a look at Mr. Bolt <span style="font-size: large;">enthusiastically</span> attempting to thwart a purse snatcher: </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here he is conveying psychotic glee over practically killing someone for some mild offense. Funny shit, <span style="font-size: large;">no doubt, but I wouldn't want this guy to be my next door neighbor.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In its own way, <b>Super</b> is the most realistic superhero movie of them all. If Batman was really real, he 'd probably be more like this, even though the Nolan films are considered bcnchmarks of superhero realism. Just remember kids: vigilante violence just isn't a good idea, no matter how self-righteous you are. If the city you love has been overrun by crime<span style="font-size: large;">...</span>fuck it, just move.</span>Thomas Dukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00804326045764733280noreply@blogger.com8