The Fantastic Mr. Fox

I have not seen a film this handmade, this plugged-in to its director's imagination, since Wallace & Gromit. The Fantastic Mr. Fox seems fed directly from Wes Anderson's brain onto the screen, without losing a beat, a gesture, or a hair. The most minute detail seems manipulated for our pleasure. This is the most lavish, expensive, celebrity-voiced kid's movie made by a kid that I have ever seen (even more so than Where the Wild Things Are), and it delivers the same kind of joy that Henry Selick delivers and that Pixar delivers.

Based on the children's story by Roald Dahl, that subversive storyteller of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory fame, The Fantastic Mr. Fox is about a bunch of woodland creatures out to rob three neighboring farmers of their livestock, their booze, and their stature in the community. Mr. Fox (voiced by George Clooney) is a wiley scoundrel who used to make a living stealing chickens until he succumbed to family life, and is now a newspaper columnist. The film begins with Clooney and his wife, Mrs. Fox (voiced by Meryl Streep) getting caught red handed stealing chickens. Mr. Fox makes a promise that if they make it out alive, he will cease his criminal ways.

Cut to the present, in which Mr. and Mrs. Fox have a child, bills, and a new home in a tree on the property of three ruthless, idiosyncratic farmers. Mr. Fox, itching to escape the boredom of everyday life, devises a plan, with the help of a janitor named Kylie (voiced by Simpsons producer Wally Wolodarsky), to return to his criminal ways.

I'll stop right there. I haven't even mentioned the details of their son, Ash, and his competition with his live-in cousin, Kristofferson, and the problems that arise from this. Let me just say that Mr. Fox, and everyone else, seems inclined to believe Kristofferson capable of anything, and Ash capable of little or nothing. Anderson generates a lot of laughs from this subplot, but also uses it as the gist for Mr. Fox's growth.

What The Fantastic Mr. Fox really has to offer, though, is pure eye candy in its unpolished, flawed animation. Anymore, I am more thoroughly entertained by films where I can see the wizard behind the curtain, and Mr. Fox is all that. Anderson doesn't shy away from his usual straight-on close-ups of characters speaking directly into the camera, and here you can see every hair move, every twitch and sneer. It doesn't reflect reality, it reflects hand craftsmanship the way those old Rankin/Bass Rudolph and Frosty cartoons did. You can see the filmmakers at play, creating every detail individually, not relying on digital effects to smooth it over in post-production.

Also, being a Wes Anderson movie, you get intellectual dialogue delivered rapid-fire, as when Coach Skip (voiced by Anderson regular Owen Wilson) explains the absurdly complex rules to a game called Whackbat, which is something akin to cricket meshed with interpretive dance. It gets such a big laugh, you almost want to go out and play it.

I don't want to spoil the shenanigans, but let me just say that Mr. Fox gets the whole woodland community up to its neck in water, dirt, and apple cider; There are heists, close calls with rabid dogs, blueberries, a sock used as a burglar mask, severed tails used as ties, an alcoholic weasel, and lots of explosions and digging. It is thoroughly enjoyable from beginning to end. A one of a kind achievement by an idiosyncratic filmmaker who has managed to make big films with big stars his way, without compromise.

The film's only drawback is that it moves along so quickly, you might miss something and have to see it again, which is my recommendation anyway. This is one of the year's best.

The Road - The Loneliness of the Long Distance Walker

I read The Road just after it came out, before Oprah, before the Pulitzer, and I thought it was okay. McCarthy is a graceful, beautifully descriptive writer with a limitless vocabulary, but if you've read one end of the world novel, you've read them all. Despite the level of detail McCarthy brought to the devastation of the landscape (and no one is better at describing landscapes than McCarthy - just read the Borders Trilogy), it was still an end of the world novel, wrought with cannibalism, collapsed highways, abandoned luxury homes, and desperate scavengers with tar-blackened skin and rotting teeth clinging to the last vestiges of hope and humanity. I thought the same thing of the movie.

The Road has been brought to glorious life by the only director I thought capable of doing so without hamming it up into sentimental rubbish - John Hillcoat, director of the brutal, uncompromising McCarthy-like The Proposition. Viggo Mortensen lends A-list credentials to the marquee, and Charlize Theron shows up in endless flashbacks as his wife, before the shit hit the fan and the world caught on fire.

The film centers on Mortensen and his son (played by the wonderful child actor Kodi Smit-McPhee), and their quest to reach the Pacific coast across the devastation of the United States. Everything in this world is on fire or already reduced to ash. The roads and houses and burned out automobiles are covered in ash, and the sky itself is a gray blanket hovering over them, the sun never glimpsed. There is no food, no animals, no vegetation, just the occasional cricket or beetle, and the few scraps that can be scavenged from already-scavenged restaurants and houses.

It's a miracle to discover, amongst the ruins, the occasion can of Coke, still fizzy, especially when you were born into this devastation, and have no idea of the luxuries man once took for granted, like taking a shower, having electricity, having a car to drive around, a job, friends, sunny days, games of tag, friends, school, an education, a future. You see, that's the twist - Smit-McPhee was born after the world ended, so he has no frame of reference. All he knows is the ash and decay, and the constant creak of the falling trees. All he knows is the dead roots of the earth after the sky fell and God turned his back on man.

The Road could have developed into a morality tale - a father teaching his son how to live a gracious life despite what has been taken from them. Instead, for long stretches (as was so in the novel), it is just about their journey and how they survive, and Mortensen's flashbacks to his happy life, which snap him awake like nightmares. Only toward the end does the father attempt to teach his son anything of how to conduct himself. His lessons are harsh in the ways of survival and punishment, as when Mortensen has an attempted thief strip nude in the cold, and leaves him by the side of the road, despite his son's protests. Or when he casts away a blind beggar so he will not tax their food supply.

These are insignificant lessons scattered amongst scene after scene of father and son scrounging for food, walking through devastated spectacles, and hiding in the brush from roving bands of cannibals. It gets boring after awhile, especially since all of these scenes are represented just as effectively in a horror-comedy like Zombieland, in which we get the added bonus of satirical carnage and Bill Murray in living dead make-up.

The Road feels hollow. It is beautiful to look at, and I felt the devastation and hopelessness all around me, and I would not want to live in that world, but nothing of emotional weight transpires between the characters, and when the kid is left with a decision at the end, I didn't care either way which road he took.

The Bad Lieutenant Port of Call: New Orleans

The Bad Lieutenant Port of Call: New Orleans is the best bad movie I've seen in years. It ranks with Twilight in engendering unintended laughter. By the end of the film, I was rolling in the aisles. I don't think the film was conceived as a comedy, but somewhere along the way, the producers must have thrown in the towel. Maybe it was when director Werner Herzog started filming extreme close ups of iguanas and alligators - sticking the camera practically up their nostrils. Maybe it was when Nicholas Cage, asked to play a character with a bad back, developed his Hunchback of Notre Dame walk, lurching rather than limping. Regardless, it was the right move to make. If this film had been played straight - say if Tony Scott has directed it - it would have been unbearable, boring - a run-of-the-mill police procedural. As is, it is an instant cult classic - a black comedy goldmine.

The film has nothing to do with the original Bad Lieutenant, in which Harvey Keitel played a heroin-addicted homicide detective with a penchant for pulling women over and masturbating all over their cars. The protagonists of both films are drug-addicted homicide detectives who abuse their powers. The similarities end there. The original offered a stark, near unwatchable, character study. This time around, no matter how desperate or depraved Cage becomes, it just plays for laughs.

The plot has Cage tracking down the killers responsible for murdering a family. He gets high with suspects, he interrogates suspects by putting his gun to their heads, he smokes crack, he snorts coke, he takes pain killers. In one scene, he pulls a couple over in an alley, smokes dope with the girlfriend, then fucks her while her boyfriend watches. In another scene (the one that drew the biggest laughs), he cuts off the oxygen supply of an elderly woman in order to get a confession from her nurse. He's Dirty Harry without any redeeming factors. Even his girlfriend, played by Eva Mendes, is nothing more than a drug-addicted hooker. When Cage walks in on her and a client, instead of becoming angry or physically abusive, he takes advantage of the situation, and extorts drugs from the client, then shares them with Mendes.

Val Kilmer shows up for a few scenes, lending more cult status to the project. What was the last major motion picture Kilmer appeared in? Deja Vu? Shawn Hatosy makes an appearance as another cop, overacting in a valiant attempt to upstage Cage. (Which is impossible - try it in front of a mirror sometime.) The rest of the cast is filled out with criminals and bookies, because of course, in addition to a drug addiction, Cage has a gambling addiction, and is several thousand dollars in arrears. (The script forgets to have a scene where leg-breakers come after Cage to collect the debt, and he shoots them dead, then steals their wallets and smokes their cigarettes.)

The film is set in New Orleans just after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. I don't know if the ravaged, degraded landscape is supposed to reflect Cage's inner psyche, but it's superfluous to the script, which could have been set in Juno, Alaska for all it matters. The only thing New Orleans lends to the project is its run down neighborhoods, its tax incentive, and the chance for Herzog to film those lizards and alligators. (I wonder if he kept any as pets. I bet he did.)

A movie like this is supposed to resolve the character's inner issues and turn them around into sympathetic souls who somehow redeem themselves despite murdering innocent people, suffocating elderly women, committing lascivious acts in public, and smoking, snorting, and drinking everything in reach. Bad Lieutenant Port of Call: New Orleans does that, but didn't have to. I would have laughed just as much if it ended with Cage running down a bus load of retirees, as long as Cage had that ridiculous sneer on his face and that hunch to his walk.

In a particularly funny scene, Cage and some drug dealers shoot a rival dead, and after the smoke clears, Cage says, "Shoot him again. His soul's still dancing." That gets a laugh right there, but then we get the added bonus of seeing the dead man break dancing. That's right, break dancing.

The Bad Lieutenant Port of Call: New Orleans. Coming soon to the midnight circuit near you.

A Feast of Films

Thanksgiving is upon us once again. A time to visit family, stuff our faces, and shop for great deals. There are also a few films out there you might consider checking out. Some as sweet as pumpkin pie, and others as dry as white turkey breast.

An Education: I like to think of this one as this year's The Reader without the explicit sex and all the Nazi war crimes stuff. Carey Mulligan and Peter Sarsgaard are outstanding as the

repressed sixteen year old school girl genius, and the thirty five year old playboy/con-artist who attempts to seduce her. I know it sounds awkward and kinda purvey on paper but do not be fooled, this is one hell of a classy and suave flick. Jenny has been groomed her entire life to be academically perfect, and has never had a life outside of school. When she meets David he sweeps her off her feet with his charm and supposed connections. As there realtionship deepens she is pulled away form her former life and learns the joy and hardships of becoming a woman. I also have to give screenwriter Nick Hornby a lot of the credit here as well. This film is proof he can write a screenplay that is as good as his novels. A-

Ninja Assassin: A former student from a clan of ninjas uses his training to fight hordes of his fellow students and main teacher after they kill his woman and use their skills for evil. The bad news is there really is no major plot, and any scenes where characters actually you know... talk are pretty dreadful. The good news is the fighting scenes are so slick, splatter-happy, and outrageous that you can't help but be entertained by their absurd style. Raizo (Rain) spends a great deal of the film slicing and dicing multiple enemies that slip in and out of the shadows. Lots of blood, dismemberment, and sharp metal objects getting flung around make this a passable guilty pleasure. Bonus for setting the final series of fights in a burning dojo that never actually burns down. B-

Antichrist: After reading Aaron's superb take on this film I first became even more anxious to see it. I love a challenge, and it has been quite some time since a quality film has been labeled an "endurance test." Now that I have seen it I realized I should have heeded the advice. Yes, there are images that once you see you will not be able to forget. I respected the power, and found the opening prologue to be rather amazing. From there we see these two characters (Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg) spend the better part of an hour dealing with their grief in unconventional ways, and it drags. When the film finally does fly graphically off the rails, it at times becomes borderline unwatchable. I tend to respect Lars Von Trier's body of work more than I admire it. If you have seen Dogville or Dancer in the Dark then you already know they can't really be enjoyed. Antichrist is his most disturbing work, but it is also more of a failure than a success. It spends the entire time being either boring or sadistic, and that can be a lethal combination. C

Leftovers: trailers and upcoming reviews

Leap Year (Trailer): Amy Adams travels to Ireland to propose to her boyfriend when she grows tired of waiting for him to pop the question. A man is not able to commit to the effortlessly charming Ms. Adams, so she chases him down? Sounds like the best fantasy of the year to me.

Kick Ass (Trailer): A group of vigilantes decide to suit up as powerless superheroes and learn how to take a punch while throwing plenty of their own. Looks like Watchmen meets Mystery Men. With Matthew Vaughn (Layer Cake, Stardust) at the helm, Mclovin as a character named Red Mist, and an R-rating, I will see it even if the comic book fad is wearing thin.

Once the holiday festivities have finished I plan on seeing Fantastic Mr. Fox, Red Cliff, and Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day sometime this weekend. Be on the the lookout for future reviews. Happy Thanksgiving.

Link of Note: Most Overpaid Stars

Forbes.com calculated the most overpaid stars of cinema by comparing an actors' salaries to their films' revenues. Number one on the list was Will Farrell, whose movies earned an average of $3.29 for every $1.00 he was paid to appear in them. The full top ten are:

1. Will Ferrell ($3.29)

2. Ewan McGregor ($3.75)

3. Billy Bob Thornton ($4)

4. Eddie Murphy ($4.43)

5. Ice Cube ($4.77)

6. Tom Cruise ($7.18)

7. Drew Barrymore ($7.43)

8. Leonardo DiCaprio ($7.52)

9. Samuel Jackson ($8.59)

10. Jim Carrey ($8.62)

Commentary:

1. A common theme here is that the price of prominent funny-men (Ferrell, Murphy, Carrey) does not correspond with their value to a film. This isn't surprising, considering this group, which consists of three guys who got famous doing sketch comedy on TV and are famous for big characters who do not necessarily translate on the big screen. But perhaps the data merely show that comedians who become too famous don't know how to select decent screenplays (we don't see picky comedians here, like Bill Murray, for example).

2. Big surprise: Ewan McGregor, not because I would think his films gross a lot, but because he apparently gets paid a lot. I would think the reason for his presence on this list is that McGregor isn't exactly a draw in and of himself, and he works big studio and independent films -- maybe he doesn't adjust his price depending on the project.

3. Tom Cruise and DiCaprio are on this list because they're so famous that they can charge anything they want -- neither really has a natural substitute in the market. So producers have to bet on them and hope to recover value.

4. Billy Bob and Sam Jackson are on this list because they took advantage of the somewhat cult following they have due to their lower-paying earlier projects. Naturally, they took the money and ran, despite the awfulness of their project.

5. Barrymore is the only woman on the list (if you don't count DiCaprio), and I think it is because she is basically the go-to actress for stupid rom-coms that don't make much money. But she's worth the value, because, who else are they going to get? Sandra Bullock? Cameron Diaz? That's about it. And they're probably busy.

6. I have no idea why Ice Cube is on this list. I can't think of more than five movies he's even been in (and two of those have the word "Friday" in the title). Maybe they seriously overpaid him for Triple-X Two.

2012: The Five Stages of Apocalyptic Grief

Stage 1: Boredom. The exposition was way too long. First, all the science stuff was unnecessary. Nobody cares. Even if they did care, it wouldn't make any difference, because it just sounds ridiculous when the guy from The Guru tells the guy from Dirty Pretty Things (my favorite current actor, Chiwitel Ejiofor) that neutrinos are "mutating".

Second, the movie wastes too much time setting up a long series of coincidences that keep John Cusack 'n' friends alive. To make it to the end of the movie, Cusack must get clues from (1) getting arrested wandering around a dried up lake in Yellowstone, (2) sharing a beer with a wild-eyed mountain man (Woody Harrelson) who's convinced the government is building "spaceships" to escape the inevitable apocalypse, and (3) dropping his boss, a Russian billionaire, off at the airport, where the Russian's kids taunt him and say they're going to live and he's going to die. I realize all this is probably necessary info, but it gets tedious.

Stage 2: Amusement. Los Angeles turns into a crevasse before our eyes as a plane tries to dodge the mayhem. Woody Harrelson yells "bye bye birdies" as the avians evacuate Yellowstone minutes before the eruption of a super-volcano. Another plane tries to dodge more mayhem. Some more shit explodes. Yet another plane barely outruns the mayhem.

However embarassing, this reviewer must admit that he enjoyed all this destruction. It's fun for the same reason that those donut platforms in Super Mario Bros are fun. You know, the ones that start to shake once you land on them, and then fall after you've been on them for a couple seconds? This part of the movie is one big donut platform.

Stage 3: Depression. Now it's not fun anymore. President Danny Glover is covered in ashes, wandering around in the wreckage of Washington D.C., promising to find a little girl's missing father. The scientist calls his dad who's on a doomed cruise ship. George Segal calls his estranged son, only to hear him answer the phone right as destruction rains down upon him. Then tidal waves basically destroy everything that hasn't already fallen into hell or exploded. So everybody's dead, and we don't even have monsters or zombies or anything to fight. It's no longer catastrophe porn -- now it's just despair porn.

Stage 4: Incredulity. Right when it gets extra-depressing, as Cusack and family huddle together in tears, we find out there's going to be a crash landing! Fun again? No, because it's too ridiculous to be fun; rather it's time to watch, mouth agape, at the manufacture of extremely unlikely plot contrivances. The crash landing is successful, only it's not in the ocean, as expected, but in the Himalayas! What luck! Unexpectedly landing their plane feet from the government's secret "ark" project -- especially lucky considering that the earth's crust shifted thousands of miles beneath them while in flight! Then what follows is a parade of stupidity. Helicopters carrying elephants and giraffes. A dog's tightrope act to make it onto the ark at the very last possible second. The dumb effectiveness of the scientist's misplaced righteousness. The hackneyed ticking clock. The realization that the Himalayas are a really bad place to put a big boat if you expect it to be knocked around by a tidal wave.

Let's get this thing over with.

Stage 5: Disappointment. Because by the end, I wanted everyone to die. Spoiler alert: while most of humanity doesn't survive, most of the characters we've been following make it -- they shouldn't have, though, because they make all sorts of bad decisions at the end of the movie that should justly spell their demise ("hey, the tidal wave's coming in ten minutes, so open the doors! We can't let all these billionaires die because we've got big rooms." Idiots.) Plus, three out of the four main characters that do die are the only sympathetic ones, and the fourth deserves to die but instead dies doing something selfless and redeeming. I call bullshit.

Note: I didn't want to see this, nor did I have to pay for it. I saw it as a favor to a friend.

New Moon: It's a Howler

Seriously, what is the appeal? I've asked the question countless times to numerous people who adore this dreck and still have not found a solution to my liking. How do girls/women find this stuff romantic, riveting, and worth fighting the masses over just to catch a glimpse of the latest page and screen version? I suppose that it is a phenomenon you either just get or you don't. A girl 'thing' if you will. Still, that's not going to stop me from railing on this truly awful film.

If I had to briefly sum up the (chuckle) plot it might go something like this. Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart) and Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson) are having trouble with their relationship. She is getting older, and he is remaining the same age. I thought that could make for an interesting story line, but alas that gets dropped after a couple minutes as soon as Edward dumps Bella because their worlds are too different. She is a human and he is a vampire. It just isn't right for a butcher to date a cow. She is a wreck, but takes solace in Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner) as their friendship grows he moves in and she pushes away because she still is not over Edward, then she moves in and he pushes away because he has genetically transformed into a werewolf. In the end Bella must choose between a pasty pansy-ass vampire that always looks like he just rolled out of his coffin, or a werewolf that when human resembles Native-American Matt Damon. Decisions, decisions.

OK it can't be the vampire/werewolf supernatural angle that people find so riveting. The story does absolutely nothing with both forces. You never see either of them actually kill and devour a single human, and they have some sort of bullshit truce that prevents them from fighting with each other. What the hell is the point of creating all of these monstrous characters if you are just going to castrate their powers?

What is the least bit sensual or romantic about this? There is zero chemistry or tension between any of these characters. There is always a brief embrace or light kiss before something storms in to interrupt the moment. And there is not the slightest possibility of eroticism to be found, just the mere illusion of it. (i.e. lots of skin, no sex) I guess girls are perfectly satisfied to just see these guys walk around throughout the second half of the film shirtless in freezing temperatures no less for no apparent reason. What if the shoe was on the other foot? How would women feel if guys flocked to a movie where a semi-nude, attractive, female man eater went on a--- oh yeah, why was Jennifer's Body such a flop? It at least had a actual bloody body count and some form of amusing wit to it. Two things that make no appearance here.

Then to add insult to injury I have got to mention this. I found it real 'cute' that a movie that brings nothing to the table itself thinks it has the right to bash films of a different genre. There are a few times in this film where characters go to the movies. When they walk out they mock zombie films as being pointless (Are you fucking kidding me? What does that make this Twilight series?) and criticize that they have a veiled message about consumerism. The character's response: "Maybe some people just like to go shopping." I wanted to punch someone in the face when I heard that. Later other characters see an action film ironically titled "Punch Face." I liked what I heard (corny dialogue, gunshots, explosions), so much I wish Director Chris Weitz would have tuned the camera around so I could have seen something of interest.

I have seen other terrible films this year. Their awfulness stems from a overbearing bombardment of ugly sounds, images, and ideas. New Moon is a different kind of terrible. It is lifeless, soulless, drawn-out, and just unbearably dull. If I had to chose between this and the first installment I would have to go with the original. It is eight minutes shorter and contains one the most laughably bad scenes in movie history. You all know what's coming... Oh shit! Vampire Baseball.

I guess in the end it is rather futile to try and criticize a film that is truly critic proof. This junk is going to make millions, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. I guess people love to be assaulted with unbearable melodrama and stupidity. That's fine. Just don't try pawning it off as something that claims to be entertaining. In the immortally wise words of Creedence: "Don't go around tonight. Well it's bound to take your life, there's a bad moon on the rise. D-

Official Fall Recommendations: Modern Family and The League

I know it's a little late in the season for this, but I want to officially endorse two sitcoms that made their debuts this fall: Modern Family and The League.

Modern Family follows three families within a large family: an old man with a new, young Columbian wife; his daughter, with her husband and kids; and his son, with a gay partner and an adopted Asian baby. It plays like a tamer version of Arrested Development (multi-generational, family-oriented) crossed with The Office (documentary style filming, frequent side interviews). Its big name is Ed O'Neill (Married with Children), but the standout performers, in my opinion are the husband-wife team of Phil, a dorky dad trying to be hip, played by Ty Burrell, and his tense and sarcastic wife, Claire, played by Julie Bowen (Ed, Lost). Produced by network sitcom veterans Steven Levitan (Just Shoot Me) and Christopher Lloyd (Frasier), Modern Family won't scandalize you the way good cable comedies do, but Ty Burrell's character alone should draw out plenty of awkward LOL moments even without a laugh track.

The League will scandalize you, the way only FX can (the show follows It's Always Sunny..., so it should reach the right audience). It's about five guys who are in a fantasy football league, but really the premise is just a vehicle for a non-stop flow of man-tastic and bro-mentous humor -- you know, the kind of ultra-specific, mostly sexual, crude and rude humor that Judd Apatow has popularized in recent years. You don't have to know anything about fantasy football to enjoy (Bree watches and laughs), but it does help -- there are familiar faces: the guy who doesn't know anything about football but wins all the time, the guy who constantly gets on the wrong side of trades, and the guy whose wife secretly runs his team. But the show is mostly just an excuse to have a bunch of guys making fun of each other for a half hour. Good times.

Addendum: Thirst (DVD)

With New Moon on the verge of threatening both my work schedule and my sanity. (Note: I will be posting a review shortly.) I thought it might be necessary to recommend a vampire movie that is really worth seeking out. That film is Chan-wook Park's epically messed up Thirst.

Around this same time last year as Twilight began it's eventual quest for world domination with the enslaving of countless tweens, there was a different and far superior vampire film making the art house rounds. This was the now soon to be remade not to mention ruined Let the Right One In. Apparently we Americans have lost our edge when it comes to making an effective vampire film. Luckily the foreign markets have not only been able to meet the requirements of making a competent or respectable addition to this genre, but they have also surpassed them.

John has already perfectly summed up the plot, and I couldn't agree more about how entertaining the first half of this one really is. I admit that when Sang-hyun does something "irredeemable" (at about the 90 minute mark if I am not mistaken) this was the one and only time I checked my watch, and was a little exhausted to see there was still almost an hour still to go. However there is a scene a few minutes later showing a Shakespearean level of guilt that befalls on the two characters who have committed the act that I found disturbing and amazing. These two characters are hallucinating so badly at this point they can't even make love without a haunting vision getting (literally) between them.

Thirst is the kind of vampire film one should have expected coming from the director of Oldboy. It is very unique to say the least while still delivering everything that is required of a vampire film. The best part is that it refuses to go soft and instead does the complete opposite. It takes almost everything about vampire nature and lore to extremes. The sex scenes are both lengthy and undeniably erotic, sunlight will hurt and eventually kill them as opposed to making them sparkle, and don't even get me started on the bloodletting. There is so much at times you feel like your drowning in hemoglobin.

I also loved the very twisted idea of turning a priest into a bloodsucker. As the monster emerges the lust both for passion and blood becomes overpowering to a man who has made a personal moral decision to renounce all these evil acts. I still don't understand considering his profession why crosses or holy water are never mentioned.

In a genre that seems to be at risk of being both overly played out and altered to meet the demands of a demographic, Thirst is winner. If you are an adventurous moviegoer, then this is a film worth sinking your teeth into. A

The Prisoner Remake on AMC

Instead of watching that legendary Colts-Patriots game that was so good everyone is going to be talking about it until the end of time, I opted to watch AMC's remake of that old weirdo classic television series, The Prisoner, starring Jim Caviezel and Ian McKellen. Now, I've only watched a couple episodes of the original, so I'm no expert, but the general idea is that a guy is mysteriously removed from society and placed in some sort of remote, inescapable town where everyone has a number for a name and people say goodbye by making a circle with their fingers and saying "be seeing you." If anyone tries to leave, a giant white bubble comes out of nowhere and mugs them. All of that was substantially the same in the new version -- except that no one did the hand motion when they said "be seeing you." I guess that was just too corny (but the big white balloon was not). The acting was generally decent -- I don't think you can go wrong matching Caviezel's mild pensiveness against McKellen's grand dramatic style. But it wasn't the premise or the acting that was the problem, it was the awful directing. Let me count the ways:

1. Narrative. There were several times in the 2-hour first installment (it's a miniseries) where I had no idea what was going on. Granted, there were a lot of things going on, including a recurring flashback, dream sequences, and hallucinations. But the cuts to and from these were mostly devoid of context, preventing the viewer from establishing any sort of continuum in time. Caviezel's character would be having a conversation with someone about his past, then we'd see a flashback, and then he'd wake up in bed screaming. I assumed the flashback was related to both his recollections and his nightmare, but the big question I had was: how did the scene end? What does the girl he was talking to know now? Are we supposed to understand that he told her the story, or that he was only dreaming it? And by the way, what happened to the girl he was talking to? How did that scene end? He'd be wandering around a sand dune one second, and then he would be tied to a stake and gagged. What happened? I don't know. Is this the director's attempt at a hallucinatory tone, a la Lynch? Is it because they don't have time for contextual cinematography and dialogue because they're smashing a whole show into a three-day miniseries? I think it's just poor storytelling.

2. Music. There was a scene where three characters were trying to detect sounds of an ocean in the middle of the desert. Caviezel's character was saying, shush, let's listen, it has to be here! They all shut up and the camera swept around them. What did we hear? Annoying music. Sometimes, silence is the best soundtrack. Also, there was an inappropriately humorous, almost song-and-dancey number at the end of the show that made no sense and seemed really out of place. These are just crappy choices.

3. Shot selection. This episode contained more than one scene of Caviezel growling and screaming in frustration as the camera swirled around him and lifted up above him ("Nooooooooooooooo!"). In this day and age, there's only one kind of movie we should ever see this scene in: a parody.

Who's this director, you ask? Thanks for asking! His name is Nick Hurran. Yes, that Nick Hurran, the one who directed that critically acclaimed gem, Little Black Book. [Please accept my heavy-handed sarcasm]. Nice try, Nick.

Needless to say, I made the wrong choice -- I should have watched the game. However, there are two more episodes left that could salvage this thing. I'm willing, but not hopeful.

Be seeing you.

Take This 'Job' & Shove It

Why do bad things happen to good people? If the Book of Job were to be broken down into the simplest of definitions it would suggest that God is testing our loyalty towards him. He brings problems into our life to find out if we will loose hope or turn on him. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Don't worry I'm not trying to get all preachy here, just thought the theme tied in well with the two films I recently saw. Larry Gopnik and T.S. Garp are two characters that can clearly identify with the trials and tribulations of Job. Here is what I thought of their stories.

A Serious Man (2009): A film that could have only been made by the Coen brothers. It has such a Barton Fink like quality that I was really surprised that John Turturro was not a part of it. Larry Gopnik (Michale Stuhlbarg) is a mathematics professor that has a plate full of problems. His wife wants a divorce, his daughter is stealing from him, his son is a pothead, and he is being blackmailed by people who clearly don't understand the first thing about how blackmail actually works.

Throughout the course of the film Larry visits three different rabbis trying to discover why his life is falling apart. The only information he gets is how wonderful a parking lot can be, a story about a Hebrew message on the back of some random guy's teeth, and that a Jefferson Airplane loving elder is too busy 'thinking' to even meet with the poor guy. On top of all this he has to help out his socially inept brother, spend time with his wife's uncomfortably pleasant new boyfriend, and is constantly harassed by Columbia's record club.

Like most Coen films the whole experience is an odd yet fascinating one. It is constantly dark, depressing, and spiked with moments of dry humor. I loved that even when things seemed to be turning around the film ends on such a haunting and uncertain note. By the film's conclusion you may ask yourself: "What does it all mean?" Please, accept the mystery. A-

The World According to Garp (1982): Garp's world is a strange one indeed. It's full of disturbing sexual exploits, airplane related disasters, and even an instance of dog biting man and man biting back. Garp (Robin Williams) was conceived when his ultra feminist mother (Glenn Close in her first and one of her finest performances) took advantage of an invalid soldier who died shortly after.

As Garp grows up his life becomes a hodgepodge of success and failure. He becomes an excellent writer forced to live in his mother's shadow when she decides to become a writer at the same time. His books are better, but hers are more successful simply because they are timely and marketable. He wins the affections of his dream girl (Mary Beth Hurt), and when they have two children Garp couldn't be happier as a father. Then infidelity and a freak accident are thrown into the mix resulting in death, partial blindness, neck braces, jaws wired shut, and an act of fellatio that ends in the worst way possible. There is also the ex-NFL receiver turned transsexual (John Lithgow) that Garp and his family remain close with over the years.

One of my favorite directors George Roy Hill (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Sting, Slap Shot) has made a film that knows hows to balance the bizzare, the humorous, and the melodramatic occasionally all in the same breath. A-

I'll end this with a quote by Kyle Broflovski of South Park with his thoughts on the subject: "Job has all his children killed, and Michael Bay gets to keep making movies. God doesn't exist" Funny and blasphemous to be sure, but it certainly does make one think.

Eyes Without a Face

Every time I go to the Landmark Cinema on Clark, I am riveted by a certain movie poster hanging near the ticket booth: a young woman lies unconscious in the foreground, while a masked face looms in the background, its eyes hauntingly and tragically gazing into the distance. The movie is Les Yeux Sans Visage, or Eyes Without a Face, and I finally saw it the other night.

While classified as horror, I found this movie to carry a certain poetry and grace unlike any other horror I have seen. Its soft sadness makes the really gruesome parts strange to watch. For those of us who remember the advent of live operations on TV, certain scenes in this movie wouldn't make us bat an eyelash; but in 1959 among European audiences, it was shockingly gross. The story follows a prominent surgeon who is consumed by the guilt of having caused a car accident that destroyed his once-beautiful daughter's face. He becomes determined to restore her beauty by experimenting with skin grafts. Aided by his slavishly loyal assistant, he lures young women to his home, chloroforms them, cuts off their faces, and dumps their bodies. Oops, did I say too much? It's okay: you realize all of that in the first few minutes.

Meanwhile, his daughter, Christiane, is a bird in a gilded cage. Her father has faked her death (so that the police won't suspect him in the rampant disappearance of young women all over town), she must endure one painful surgery after another, and worst of all: she misses her fiance, who thinks she's dead. Her only friends are the dogs in her father's kennel and his caged birds. Oh yeah, and she doesn't have a face. I really felt for this poor girl. Although played as a fragile, suicidal shell of a person, Christiane is not only a victim: she is ultimately her own heroine. In spite of one major hole in the climax (are the French police really that stupid, or am I missing something?), the movie is quite satisfying.

In the Loop (DVD): Communication Breakdown

"Unforeseeable." That one not so little word might be the cause or at least the launching point of all of the character's problems throughout the course of this film. A slip of the tongue during an interview by a somewhat clueless British minister (Simon Foster) leads to a whole lot problems, as he declares that U.S. involvement with the war in the middle east is unforeseeable. From there numerous people of considerable political power on both the U.S. and British sides scramble to either leak the story of an impending war, while other characters do everything in their power to keep that leak plugged up.

I'll admit my political standings most likely kept me from fully enjoying this film. At times I was lost in a sea of political jargon, and it doesn't really help that numerous characters have such thick accents. From what little I've seen of The West Wing I can say that it is certainly not unforeseeable that those same fans will love this movie.

The plot might have moved a little too fast for my taste, but that's nothing compared to the dialogue. This is where the true power of the film lies, that and some amazing actors to deliver it. I'll begin my praise with Peter Capaldi who plays a British government spokesman named Malcolm Tucker who attempts to act as a filter for the Foster character. It seems that he refrains from having a filter himself. Cleaning up other people's messes has clearly turned this guy into one of the most bitter characters I've ever seen in a film. His swearing techniques and insults are just flat out masterful. You don't want to piss this guy off because he will make mincemeat out of you using only the power of his voice. Capaldi's performance is one of this year's best.

James Gandolfini also turns in a very good performance as Lt. Gen. George Miller, the representation from the United States. He is opposed to the war, but is so hostile, verbally violent, and impatient you never would guess he is on the side of peace. There is a confrontation between him and the Tucker character where the two smile while trading brutal threats. Even though you already know neither is actually going to throw a punch, you still are drawn in and wait for it to happen anyway.

Steve Coogan pops up as well in a small role as a guy who endlessly complains to Foster and his staff about the brick wall being constructed in his mother's back yard. This provides the film with even more laughs. Coogan is no stranger to this kind of dry British humor. If you like this, then be sure to check out his funny Hollywood spoof Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story.

In the Loop is a pretty difficult film to break down and review after a single viewing. I'm sure that watching it a few more times will help to further decipher and understand the complex plot. It will also allow you to catch even more of the hilariously insulting rapid-fire dialogue. Bottom line is (once you see the film using the words "bottom line" is a great in-joke) this film might be a little too sharp and scathing for its own good. I recommend it, but depending on your political knowledge and appreciation of fast talkies whether you will enjoy it is unforeseeable. B

Disney's A Christmas Carol

Robert Zemeckis does the 3D technique right. He uses it more for depth than for knives and forks and fingers stabbing out at you. I want to see into a picture, not have it poking its nose out at me. He practiced with Polar Express, he honed his technique on the throwaway Beowulf, and now he returns to the family-oriented Christmas story with his fast-paced rendition of A Christmas Carol. It sure is pretty to look at, and the story's all there, but it felt like someone was telling it to me on the way to the airport, and we only had ten minutes to spare.

A lot of reviewers have commented on the artificiality of the characters in Zemeckis's motion capture films. They don't quite look human, but they look so life-like, rather than cartoony, that it makes them look like aliens with cold eyes impersonating the human visage. This worked for me in Polar Exress because it was a fairy tale. It worked for the Angelina Jolie character in Beowulf because she was a monster, but not so much for the brawny Vikings, who came off wooden, and weren't helped by their dialogue. It works in A Christmas Carol, because the characters, especially Scrooge and Crachet, have exaggerated visages that represent their personalities - Scrooge is tall, rail thin, with a long vulture's nose and a jutting jaw; Crachet is squat, lazy, with a bulging, flabby face, and rosy plump cheeks. They're cartoony, rather than life like.

Zemeckis has always been a master at the long take; at moving his camera through great depths, with twists and turns and focal changes, and he can get away with even more now that he isn't constrained by the physical world of lights and sets and dolly tracks. The way motion capture works, they have a 360 degree set, with cameras set up all around it that capture it from every angle, and then Zemeckis goes in and chooses which angles to keep. He can move where ever he wants, whenever he wants, and light it however he wants. That freedom is on full display here, and it's wonderful; He flies you up and down and all around his Victorian town, over church steeples, high up in the air, down with a coffin in the ground, and through floors and ceilings. It would have been impossible or very expensive (and likely artificial-looking) to capture his Christmas Carol any other way.

A Christmas Carol is a tale born for animation, and it has been animated several times before, but never with this level of detail and darkness. The sets suck you into their shadows and grime, their cobwebs and dank cobblestone streets. The level of detail seems wholly authentic, right down to the crooked yellow teeth and frayed clothes of its characters. You will marvel at the imaginative representation of the three ghosts, from the candlestick and flame head Ghost of Christmas Past, to the boisterous, billowing giant of Christmas Present. You will want to walk the streets and frequent the pubs and squares. Scrooge's mansion could give Monster House a run for its money. It's something to say that I felt a pang of sympathy for all those people who had to endure living in such an era, where the only heat came from the hearth, and even then, you could see your breath when you walked away.

The problem with A Christmas Carol is obviously not in its design or its direction, or even in its acting, done mostly by Jim Carrey (voicing eight roles). Its problem is with its pacing. I realize it is Charles Dickens' shortest work, probably by more than 400 pages, but that doesn't mean it has to zing by. It felt to me that once the first ghost visited, the whole movie went in fast forward, and was over with in a snap, without allowing Scrooge to pontificate on his happiness as a lad, to regret the crushing blow he dealt his one true love, to wallow in the misery of his future, the loss of Tiny Tim, the mockery that is made of him by his nephew, and the empty nature of his lonely demise.

Sure, all those things happen, but they happen like that. Scrooge comments briefly on them, and is almost allowed to wrinkle his brow in thought, but then it's off to the races, and he's dragged along - or coasts through the air to - his next appointment, and after awhile, it was just moving paintings, pretty pictures, and lots of details without any intimacy or lasting emotion behind them. By the time the Ghost of Christmases Yet To Come arrived, I had my hands out in front of me saying, "Slow down! Slow down! I want to look at that building a little while longer! I want to examine your outfit!"

There is no patience with this movie. It should have been two hours long. It should have lingered with its story instead of racing through it. Just because we've heard it all before doesn't mean you shouldn't take your time telling it to us again, especially when you have the time, money, and power to make it look this beautiful.

The Box - Full of Sound and Fury, Signifying Nothing

I don't know what The Box means. Come to think of it, I don't know what Richard Kelly means. None of his films make sense. Donnie Darko doesn't make sense. Southland Tales doesn't make sense. Domino, which he wrote, doesn't make sense. Knowing, which he worked on for a long time, makes sense, but Alex Proyas made Dark City, and he made that make sense.

In my opinion, The Twilight Zone is one of the best television series in history. Not that I'm an expert. It is a perfect concept, along with its peers. Night Gallery, The Outer Limits, Ray Bradbury Theatre, Tales from the Darkside, Amazing Stories, etc. They present weird concepts meant to horrify, frighten, and provoke thought. And the best part is, they don't have to make sense, and they don't have to draw any conclusions. They can be enigmatic. They can tease and tease and tease, then be over with, and you don't feel like you're getting ripped off, because each episode is self-contained. The mystery is the point, not the solution.

Feature films and ongoing narrative television series are different. Take Lost for example. It lost me in season three, when it continued to add mysteries without solving any of them. The Box is like that. I can only go so far before I start wanting answers.

Here is a film based on the simplest of premises - a down-on-their-luck couple is given a box with a button on top, and two options; Push the button, and someone they don't know will die, and they will receive one million dollars, or; Don't push the button, and give the box back, wherein the same options will be presented to someone they don't know. We have the makings of a Twilight Zone episode here, and indeed, The Box is based on one, written by the grand master of suspense stories, Richard Matheson, who was responsible for Duel, I Am Legend, The Incredible Shrinking Man, and The Legend of Hell House, among others.

The problem with The Box is that it has only enough material for a half hour. Stretched to an hour and a half, it's thin. Stretched to an hour and fifty minutes, it's Swiss cheese. Once the couple, played by James Marsden and Cameron Diaz, are presented with the box and what it's all about, they can only go through the pros and cons of pushing the button so many times before that button gets pushed. The strange thing about Richard Kelly's film is, the drawing out of the premise isn't the problem; It's all the other stuff he piles on top.

There was a point in watching The Box where I gave up trying to figure out what Kelly was attempting to tell me, and just sat back and waited for it to be over. Sure, there were pretty pictures all along the way, and the actors had me fully invested, and Kelly sure does know how to move the camera around, but it was all complications and no solutions. By the end of the film, I didn't know if Frank Langella was an alien or a super human. I knew he had been struck by lightning, and that he could control people's minds, and that he, apparently, had control over water, and could form it into funny shapes and teleport people through it, or something, but I have no idea what this all adds up to.

Was there supposed to be some profound realization about mortality, or was it a commentary on the evils of science and advancing technology? I know there's a quote from Arthur C. Clarke, something to the tune of, "Once technology advances past a certain state, it all becomes magic," and at the beginning of the film, Cameron Diaz lectures on Sartre, and that has to mean something, right?

I can only imagine Richard Kelly lounging around reading philosophy while watching The Twilight Zone, then nodding off and having a dream like this film. It's certainly hallucinatory, I'll give him that. People's noses start bleeding for no reason at all, there are weird teenagers with homicidal expressions on their faces flashing peace symbols, Santa causes a car accident, Cameron Diaz has only one toe on her right foot, and a bunch of old people walk around like zombies, and end up at a pool at a motor lodge off the highway. And it takes place in the '70's!

There is a log of rocket science in this movie. Literally. The Marsden character works at NASA, and wants to be an astronaut. There is a lot of talk of the Viking mission to Mars, and whether traces of life will be discovered there. I don't know what it adds up to. There are drawings of people being compelled by beams shooting out of their thoraxes, just like there are in Donnie Darko, and probably in Southland Tales, for all I know. I don't know what that adds up to, either.

My guess is, Richard Kelly knows somewhere in the back of his mind what this all means. Sometimes, when he's not quite awake, he mumbles explanations for all these things that, if written down, might make a good e.e. cummings poem. But in the light of day, once it's all edited together and set to music, all it does is add and add and add, without adding up to anything.

Anti-Christ - What in the hell?

I am a horror movie nut. I've seen just about every substantial horror film ever made - everything from Freaks to Bloodsucking Freaks - but nothing quite prepared me for Anti-Christ. Here we have a sick, twisted combination of Hour of the Wolf and Hostel, and that's exactly what I'd call Lars Von Trier's new film - the mashing of Ingmar Bergman's psychological approach to character - especially those of a feuding married couple - with Eli Roth's trenchant use of sadistic violence. Throw in some of the most effective horror music since Stanley Kubrick scared me out of my rocking chair in my youth, and we have here what I'd deem an endurance test.

There are images in this film I will not soon forget, although I'd like to. Images of carnal lust turned to violence, of metaphoric animals feasting on themselves, of a baby falling to its death. Two particular images have left scars on my brain I should seek counseling to heal - a scene of masturbation resulting in ejaculated blood, and a scene of self-mutilation in which I actually shielded my eyes - not quite believing I was actually seeing what I was seeing. It was a special effect, yes, but should any moviegoer, seeking some form of entertainment, have to witness such a thing?

Anti-Christ is the story of a married couple whose only child falls to its death while they are making passionate love in the same room. We later find out the wife watched the child climb onto the windowsill, and could very well have saved it. The husband was unaware, so consumed was he by his passion. The characters are given no names, and are labeled only He and She. Whatever. He is a psychiatrist, She is an artist. She has been doing a study on whether or not women are inherently evil creatures placed on this earth to ruin men's lives, or whatever. She is devastated by their child's death, and driven into a coma, and, afterwards, into fits of hysterical crying and psychological self-destruction. He decides, in lieu of institutionalization, to address her fears head on, and asks her what most frightens her. One of the things she names is the log cabin they have in the middle of the woods, so He takes She there.

From the moment they get to the cabin in the woods, the film turns quite surreal. The music is menacing, the sound effects come loud and fast - the same kind of jump-out-and-get-you sound effects your common, everyday household horror movie employs, but to enhanced effect here, because we're not in Kansas anymore - or at Crystal Lake, or on Elm Street, or in Texas - we're not in Boo! Gotcha! Wow, it's fun being scared territory - no, we're in Unrated, non-studio horror movie territory here - and all bets are off.

The smaller details begin to add up, until everything seems to have a sinister purpose - the moist, rotten wooden walls of the cabin, the rusted tin roof, the dense, creeping foliage of the surrounding woods, the thick fog. The acorns raining down on the roof at night - sounding at first like meteors, then like the pounding hooves of demons. The forrest creatures - a fox, a deer, a crow - first representing just what they are, then taking on additional meaning as He and She bear down on each other.

On some level, it was a pleasure to watch a horror film that I knew had intelligence and weight behind it. Lars Von Trier is no dummy to what tortures we inflict on each other, and with Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg, he has two gifted actors who are more than willing, it seems, to throw themselves into any given situation. I can only imagine what lesser actors would have been willing to do, and what Von Trier would have been left with. (Nothing.)

On another level, it was abusive for me to sit through this film, because on no level was it entertaining. Roger Ebert wrote a review a number of years ago - for what film, I cannot remember - in which he said at one point that he considered leaving the theatre, so taxed was he by the psychological burden impressed upon the characters. I felt the same way throughout this film - that I wasn't so much watching it as enduring it. I guess that's the difference between a good horror film and a film in any other genre - you are not watching a horror film, you are having it happen to you. More here than in any other case, you are putting yourself in the protagonist's shoes, asking "What would I do? What can I do?"

In the case of Anti-Christ, I wanted to get the hell out of there - to leave the theatre, to take a stroll on the beach, or even down a dark street at night in the fog - to be anywhere but in that woods anymore with those horrible creatures, and all the harm they were doing to each other - both real and psychological.

I guess you could say this film affected me. I guess that means it's successful. That doesn't mean it's entertaining. Leaving the theatre, a friend of mine commented, "I don't know why I put myself through that." My sentiments exactly.

Retro Review: Notorious

As a devoted Hitchcock fan, I am embarrassed to admit that it was only tonight that I first saw Notorious, his 1946 spy thriller starring Ingrid Bergman, Cary Grant, and Claude Rains. As Jimmy on South Park would say, "Wow, what a great movie."

Set in the very year it was made, the story was quite timely: the daughter of a convicted German spy is recruited by the State Dept. to become a spy herself. She is sent to Rio de Janiero to try to uncover the very people her father was working with, a group of Nazis with dastardly plans. At first Alicia rebuffs the idea, stating only that she wants to get drunk and have fun, but her contact, played by Cary Grant, is very convincing. Soon they are in Rio awaiting their instructions, and of course they have fallen in love. When they are told that the assignment is for Alicia to seduce one of the Nazis in order to infiltrate his inner circle, jealousies abound.

This classic is both an edge-of-your-seat suspense drama and a complex romance. Unlike Hitchcock's later work, it features none of the gimmicks that we know him for. This is quite simply a great story. Ingrid Bergman is so beautiful and sympathetic as a virtuous patriot disguised as a lush and a floozy. Don't let a dragging exposition deter you from this very satisfying flick. And see if you notice that the word Nazi is never even spoken.

Assorted Links: Top 50 Films of the Decade

1. Paste Magazine ranks the Top 50 Films of the Decade. Cheers: Eternal Sunshine at #5; Memento at #17; Ratatouille at #32 (should be higher); Once at #30; Jeers: Almost Famous at #3, (You know how I feel about that); Up at #14; Gosford Park at #31 (Really?); Spirited Away at #39 (overrated, all looks and no brains).

2. Apparently, Juliet (V's Elizabeth Mitchell) will appear in multiple episodes of Lost this season. Hints Carlton Cuse: "There's still something very significant we have not yet learned about her character."

3. Owen Wilson is Marmaduke. Hey Owen, take some advice from your frequent and former castmate, Bill Murray ("Did you have any regrets?" "Garfield, maybe").

4. Miramax is going out with a whimper.

5. Charles Logan is coming back to 24. No big surprise, since the dead come back routinely on this excellent, excellent show.* Maybe the plot will revolve around a terrorist attack that turns NYC into zombies. Who else would like to see Jack Bauer go toe-to-toe with a zombie President Palmer?

*DISCLAIMER: When I refer to the show as excellent, I am generally speaking of Seasons 1, 2, 5, and 7.

Dead Snow (DVD): Eine Gute Zombie-Film

This Norwegian zombie splatter-fest offers hardly a shred of originality. I'm sure if you're reading this then you probably have already seen a slew of other crazy cannibalistic cinematic feasts with dead in the title. A few examples include: Night of the Living Dead, Dead Alive, Shaun of the Dead, and The Evil Dead. So is Dead Snow really worth your time? Hell yes it is! Why? These zombies served under the Fuhrer himself. That's right folks were talkin about Nazi-Zombies here.

A group of med students spending the weekend at a secluded cabin stumble upon some cursed gold, and the undead master race will stop at nothing to get it back. That's it. That's the plot, but lets be honest folks you didn't come here for plot, you came here for carnage and in that respect Dead Snow is a goose stepping good time.

You get the classic means of dispatching the undead: Shotgun, sharp instruments, etc. but you haven't lived until you've seen a zombie get mowed down then ground to a pulp by a snowmobile. The chainsaw and hammer decapitations are very messy and impressive as well. There are even a few nasty and dark little twists in the style of The Descent. Let's just say that if you go on a kill crazy rampage be careful where you swing that ax.

The humor manages to flow about as much as the blood does. After getting bitten on the arm the victim decides to saw it off. What do you think happens when the same poor guy gets bitten in the crotch the very next scene? I also loved that the dorky movie fanatic gets to nail the hottest chick of the group... in a freaking outhouse to boot.

Dead Snow is a great little find for zombie fanatics and gore hounds, everyone else will most likely be less than impressed. It is quite possibly one of the best ways to mix the supernatural and the Third Reich, until Werewolf Women of the S.S. becomes a reality that is. B+

Films on the Side of a Milk Carton

Bree's wonderful Granny Guignol post, and the revelation that I am not the only person that loves the film Lady in a Cage inspired me to create this list. I began to ponder: "What are some other films that seem to be hiding from the rest of the world?" These are the movies that make me feel like I'm the only person who has discovered them. I know I'm fishing here, but it really makes me curious if anyone has seen or at the very least even heard of some of these films that flew in way under the radar.

• Electra Glide in Blue (1973): This film stars Robert Blake as a short, motorcycle riding, highway patrol officer that dreams of becoming a big shot detective. Once he gets his wish he realizes that corruption gets worse the further up the ladder you go. Because of this he walks away from the job. He also looses his girlfriend, shoots his partner, and gets wasted by a couple of hippies he busted at the film's start. Think of it as Easy Rider from the cop's perspective. Perhaps too depressing even for a cult following.
• Series 7: The Contenders (2001): Released at the height of the "reality television" explosion, this under-appreciated gem is shot like an three arch episode of a non-existent show. Six people are chosen at random by lottery, and are followed by a camera crew as they bump one another off. Last man, child, or even very pregnant woman standing gets to live. It's been done before and better in films like Battle Royale and Man Bites Dog, but I still love the notion that if death by entertainment became a reality it would probably look exactly like this. The only real problem is anyone I've introduced this film to has hated it. Look out for Gob Bluth himself (Will Arnett) as the show's host.
• Colossus: The Forbin Project (1970): Dr. Charles Forbin has just created a massive computer system named Colossus. It is capable of defending the United States from all threats. Unfortunately he made the thing too damn smart, and without a fail-safe. Colossus becomes self aware and holds humanity hostage. Perhaps I am not the only fan of this one. James Cameron must be as well, either that or Skynet is just a total coincidence.
• Freaked (1993): Alex Winter a.k.a 'the other guy' from the Bill and Ted movies wrote, directed, and starred in this comedy oddity about a former child star turned toxic sludge salesman who visits an off the map freak show run by mad scientist Randy Quaid. He and his friends are then imprisoned and turned into the newest sideshow attraction. Goofy, grotesque, pretty hilarious, and undeniably weird.
• Goke, Body Snatcher from Hell (1968): A cheesy yet enjoyable Japanese horror film that inspired a visual scene or two for Kill Bill, and has an uncanny similarity to the first season of Lost. After a commercial plane crashes on a mysterious island the survivors have to deal with a terrorist, trust issues, and even an alien force in the shape of a blob that jumps from person to person. The only time I've ever seen this movie was at 3 a.m. on TCM.
• Quiet Cool (1986): James Remar stars as a cop who aids a teenage Rambo in getting revenge on the marijuana farmers that murdered his parents. The opening scene has a motorcycle riding Remar chasing a purse snatcher on roller skates, wait for it... through a subway car! Yes it is as bad as it sounds but that's nothing, just wait until you hear where the title comes from. My roommate and I seem to be the only two people aware of this so-bad-its-good clunker. Come to think of it, it should probably stay that way.

Note: Haven't heard of any of them. How about these?: Silent Running (1972), Race with the Devil (1975), Asylum (1972), Pure (2002), The Seven-Ups (1973), or The Singing Detective (2003).

Link of Note: Notable Movie Character Interactions Sorted by Time

Courtesy of XKCD.com