I was rooting for this one and it did not let me down. If you've spent any time reading this site, you probably already know that I'm a fan of writer/director Eric England. In full disclosure, he and I have been friendly online and he has even joined me on the podcast a couple of times. If you think this means I cannot give his latest film as objective a review as I am capable of giving, you should stop reading now. I am going to do my best to be fair, but keep in mind that no single review you have ever read -- not from any critic -- is 100% objective. It is not possible when examining art. I'm not particularly interested in objectivity in my film discussions, anyway, but rather curated subjectivity. I want to hear how a person feels, not some detached position.
But this is a conversation for another day. We're here to talk about Get the Girl, Eric England's fourth feature and his most accomplished film to date. It's a super fan, super entertaining bloody black comedy starring Justin Dobies as Clarence, a quote-unquote nice guy who loves beautiful bartender Alex (Elizabeth Whitson) from afar. If only she would get to know him, she'd understand just how right they are for each other, you know? To finally get some face to face time, he enlists the help of Patrick (Noah Segan), a sort-of scummy stranger who agrees to stage a kidnapping -- he nabs Alex and Clarence can come to her rescue, not only introducing himself in spectacular fashion but getting to be hero in the process. Things do not go as planned. They hardly ever do.
With its crime-gone-wrong plot and the manner in which it uses violence as a punchline, there's a very late-'90s quality to Get the Girl. For once, I don't mean that as a pejorative. This isn't some bullshit post-Tarantino rip-off that's 20 years too late, but it is slick and brightly colorful in a way that reminded me of late '90s/early 2000s horror even though it's really not a horror film. Though England is best known for his work in that genre, Get the Girl is more of a comic thriller in the vein of Very Bad Things or early Coen Brothers than it is his earlier horror efforts like Madison County or Contracted. Reuniting with his cinematographer Mike Testin, England uses the full width of the 2.35:1 widescreen frame for long, ambitious tracking shots and bathes the film in neon blues, pinks and purples for his best-looking and most polished film to date. It feels like a big step forward for hime on a technical level, and enjoying the filmmaking on display is a big part of the fun I had with the movie.
There are ways in which the screenplay by England (from a story Graham Denman) acts as a commentary about the "friend zone" and guys who feel somehow entitled to a woman's heart simply because they have some kind of one-sided affection. At the same time, though, the movie never quite overcomes its White Knight problem despite making an effort with a couple of reveals. There is something fundamentally icky about all of Clarence's actions in the film and Get the Girl isn't quite willing to take responsibility for that; again, some lip service is paid and there are developments that speak to the problem, but the character is ultimately meant to be entirely sympathetic and that might be an impossible feat to pull off for any filmmaker. The resulting outdatedness of the movie's gender politics are another major reason the movie feels reminiscent of a late '90s thriller -- though, again, I should stress that the comparison is to one of the good ones like Go, not lame WB shit like Teaching Mrs. Tingle. The distinction matters.
Beyond some of that stickiness, Get the Girl is wicked sharp fun. Dobies does his best to make Clarence likable given the circumstances and Whitson gives Alex a fierceness that belies her "damsel in distress" role, while Noah Segan and co-star Adi Shankar (who is also the producer responsible for many of those "bootleg universe" fan films like Joseph Khan's Power Rangers and Joe Lynch's Truth in Journalism) more or less steal the movie with their off-kilter comic timing that makes each laugh a well-earned surprise. This is a story populated by mostly reprehensible characters -- only Alex is really an innocent -- but we never sit there hating them because we're having too good a time. It's a difficult trick that England pulls off.
Get the Girl is the kind of movie I suspect I'll watch a bunch more times. It has great energy, great comedy, a genuine emotional hook (more within the plight of soon-to-be-divorced Alex than in Clarence's unreciprocated pining) and some excellent violence -- England, never one to shy away from splashing some gore around, lets things get bloody and stages one of the best headshots I've seen in years. The film feels different from his past work while still retaining his voice (England grew up on '90s genre movies, so I don't think the similarities are accidental) and represents an exciting leap forward for him in the way that it moves. His next film, Huntsville, has already been shot, and it already promises to be another change of pace. This is an exciting time to be an Eric England fan, and Get the Girl is the kind of movie that makes being an Eric England fan easy.
The review duo with twenty-three competing personalities, all of them the nation’s top film critics. Adam: Welcome to Reserved Seating. I’m Adam Riske.
Rob: And I’m Rob DiCristino. Split is the new film from my hometown boy M. Night Shyamalan, fresh off his recent success with The Visit. It’s the story of Kevin Wendell Crumb (James McAvoy), a man with twenty-three personalities fighting each other for the limelight: Barry is a fashion designer. Dennis has OCD. Patricia is overbearing and matronly. Hedwig is nine years old and loves Kanye West. They exist in a jumbled cacophony that drives Kevin to kidnap high schoolers Marcia (Jessica Sula), Claire (Haley Lu Richardson), and Casey (Anya Taylor-Joy). While they try to bite and claw their way out of their basement prison, Crumb’s psychiatrist Dr. Fletcher (Betty Buckley) makes a horrifying discovery -- a twenty-fourth personality more dangerous than anything she’s ever seen.
Adam: In this early scene, we see Kevin, as Barry the fashion designer, visiting Dr. Fletcher but she’s not so sure which of Kevin’s personalities she’s dealing with.
Rob:Split is a fun enough concept that runs out of steam about an hour in.
Adam: I don’t even know if it makes it an hour. Those scenes between McAvoy and Betty Buckley are dead weight. And there are a lot of them.
Rob: And I kept waiting for a single one of them to matter. There’s no doubt that McAvoy earns his money with a fun cocktail of performances, but Shyamalan’s attention drifts too far away from narrative and character for an effective or satisfying payoff that makes it all feel worth it.
Adam: McAvoy is a talented guy and he does what he can, but I don’t think the script does him any favors. It’s a character that’s not written very well; the various personalities feel like caricatures an improviser would create at a comedy show. There’s no depth there. At the end, he’s just saying things that sound crazy for the sake of saying things that sound crazy. It doesn’t inform anything and it just makes the whole picture drag.
Rob: Exactly. It’s a series of impressions rather than fully-drawn characters.
Adam: I liked when he would say “Etc.,” but if I’m cherry picking that moment we’re in real trouble.
Rob: One of them exists solely to accidentally show Casey where some keys are! It’s obnoxious. Maybe my biggest issue, though, is that the final act meanders too long on foregone conclusions before pivoting into a ridiculous bit of fan service that had me shouting at the screen.
Adam: We’ll get to that. And don’t shout at the screen, Rob. At best it annoys the other people in the theater and at worst you’re being hyperbolic and none of that really happened.
Rob: Last spoiler warning, everyone!
Adam: They know it’s a spoiler review, Rob.
Rob: Anyway, I’m glad that Shyamalan has moved away from mainstream blockbusters and into smaller genre fare (where he belongs), but I’m still waiting for an idea as cohesive and engaging as his first three films.
Adam: What’s with the “where he belongs?”
Rob: I think the second phase of his career faltered largely because he was a genre director being pushed (by Hollywood or his own ego) into angling toward blockbusters. It feels like the pressure is off of him now, which makes me happy.
Adam: I’ve been an apologist for the guy more than most, based mostly on his run from 1999 to 2002, but the degree of cynicism and ugliness that comes with Split makes me wonder how much longer I want to stick with this guy. Let’s talk about the twist.
Rob: With all due respect to Unbreakable and its fans (who I know are legion), I hated the end of this film. The David Dunn cameo is a cop out, a sneaky way around an actual ending. The Beast’s decision to spare Casey because she’s as damaged as he is rings false and unearned; we spent a long time rooting for her so that she can do all of nothing to save the day. The final intersection of their two storylines is clunky and dull. It’s worth noting that I have the same issue with Unbreakable, a film that tells us all about a very cool final battle that it never shows us. I get that both films are meant to be origin stories. But, you know what? So is Iron Man. That movie has an ending.
Adam: I really like Unbreakable and didn’t have a final battle problem with that movie because I think it resolves its themes and a final fight or something wouldn’t have added anything. But saying all that, as a fan of Unbreakable I couldn’t have hated the ending of Split any more than I do. Let me explain why. There are four reasons. You ready?
Rob: I was born ready, Timmy.
Adam: My name’s not Timmy, Rob. I’m Adam. Or Riske. Or Mr. Riske. Or Mr. Adam Riske. Or Butch. Or Butchie. Or Butchie Boy. It’s not Timmy.
1. The way the ending is executed is terrible. The Unbreakable score is cued in the last scene with McAvoy. That’s fine. But then we cut to a diner where the news have to give McAvoy a villain name, “The Horde,” which is dumb. Then if people still don’t get it, we have an extra saying “Wasn’t there a supervillain that got locked up 15 years ago?” If you still don’t get it they continue “What was his name?” “Mr. Glass” answers Bruce Willis AND IF WE STILL DON’T GET IT he’s wearing a shirt with a name-tag revealing that he’s the same guy from Unbreakable. It’s so idiotic. Why not just show David Dunn then driving away from the diner and we see a sign for Amity Island. THEN OMG! IT’S IN THE JAWS UNIVERSE, TOO????!!!!
2. I didn’t like Split already before the Unbreakable shared universe reveal, so now that it’s tied to Unbreakable my enthusiasm for the earlier film is diminished because I have to associate it with something I don’t like. Unbreakable is about something. Split is about nothing other than franchise-building.
3. Shyamalan is basically telling us he wasted an entire movie in service of delivering a twist. He could have removed all of the therapy stuff and just told a David Dunn story in parallel with Bruce Willis and James McAvoy intersecting in the climax. If you introduced David Dunn and revealed this is an Unbreakable sequel it would have still been a huge twist (just one revealed in the middle) and been a complete movie. As it stands now, we have to wait another entire movie to tell the story Split should have told.
4. I don’t want to see an Unbreakable sequel, particularly one with a 2017 Bruce Willis, who only projects laziness and contempt on-screen these days. In 2000, he was still a guy I can root for, but 17 years later he’s completely become his unappealing public persona on-screen.
The ending of Split is a miscalculation of such a huge degree. It point blank tells the audience all that matters is shared universe building when the movie was sold as a standalone thriller without some sort of tie-in. It’s about as cynical as you can get. The movie is a clickbait article, not a story.
Rob: I couldn’t agree more. The entire thing boils down to a smug wink at the audience that made me want to rip my theater seat from the floor and throw it at the screen.
Adam: You’re not CrossFit enough for that.
Rob: I’ll never be CrossFit enough for you. Anyway, there’s been a bit of hubbub about the way Split portrays mental illness. Should we get into that?
Adam: Go ahead. I’m going to pee a little and really fast. Save my seat.
Rob: Personally, I don’t see the film as offensive to those suffering from DID (though, as a neurotypical, I might not deserve an opinion). Much like The Silence of the Lambs or A Beautiful Mind, it’s using the illness as a piece to fuel a larger character arc. Split mostly succeeds in that, I think, but it does the same character work in two hours that many superhero films do in ten minutes. Casey’s flashbacks have the same problem -- they take up way too much time for what they end up accomplishing narratively.
Adam: I found the movie much more offensive in its treatment of the Anya Taylor-Joy character than for those suffering from psychological illness. Shyamalan puts her through the ringer with her kidnapping, explains in disgusting backstory that she’s living with her sexual predator uncle and then leaves her at the end of the movie still in the care of the sexual predator uncle. I’ve heard a couple of theories saying she might tell the police woman about her uncle (which the movie doesn’t support, it’s too busy getting its kicks off the final twist) or that it sets up her as being a “super” like David Dunn and they’re going to join forces to which I say “good luck to you, because that’s too dumb for me to even comprehend.” Shyamalan uses the “flashback tragedy to inform a reserve of strength when dealing with a big bad” thing he did in Signs here in Split to a much less impactful effect. The way he exploits this girl and her history of sexual and physical abuse for the purpose of thriller mechanics offended me. You can’t introduce material like that with such insensitivity.
Rob: And with absolutely no payoff! Fan theories aside, the actual text of the film doesn’t at all imply that she’s going to do anything about anything. Kevin leaves her in the cage, the staffer finds her, and she gets in the cop car. Fade out. There’s ominous music and a thousand-yard stare. This isn’t some complex tone poem I’m too dense to understand. This is poor storytelling and a firm Mark Off for me. It’s actually the first film I’ve seen in a while that left me physically angry at the end.
Adam: Split is a big Mark Off for me too. It’s a garbage picture.
Next week Rob and I pay homage to the late Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert with a special Oscar show based on their classic “If We Picked the Winners” episodes. Join us then for our special episode - “If We Decided Who Won.”
Hurt. Coming off an inspiring day last weekend, this week has been a nonstop parade of shit. Let's talk about movies and celebrate the good news. Luke Ciancio had a birthday and Chaybee (Brahm) has an album out in just a few weeks and Josh Pearlman continues to be awesome and Cait Cannon got some new crockpot recipes and Adam Riske found that $5 bill in the pocket of some jeans he forgot about (maybe?) and now we can all finally find out how that Resident Evil franchise is going to end. So I guess it's not all bad.
Here's some stuff to watch when you've finished not seeing A Dog's Purpose.
Drunk Stoned Brilliant Dead: The Story of the National Lampoon (2015, dir. Douglas Tirola) If you're any kind of comedy nerd, this is essential viewing regardless of whether or not you ever read National Lampoon. Completely constructed from interviews and clips from National Lampoon magazines and radio/TV productions, the movie tells a very clear story of the rise and fall of one of the most significant and influential comic institutions of the last 100 years, which doubles as the sad tale of magazine founder Doug Kenney. It's also really, really funny. All the old clips hold up. (Watch on Netflix)
Quigley Down Under (1990, dir. Simon Wincer) I've gone on for years about how much I dig this movie, an underrated western that should have made Tom Selleck into a full-blown movie star. There's gorgeous photography of the Australian outback, a solid villain turn from Alan Rickman (at a time when he was doing a lot of these kinds of parts), an amazing Basil Poledouris score and, of course, Laura San Giacomo. This is one of those movies that I have to watch whenever I stumble upon it on cable, which happens a lot. Simon Wincer is a really under appreciated director, and this is my favorite of his movies. (Watch on Hulu)
Sweet 16 (1983, dir. Jim Sotos) Weird little slasher mystery in which a high school girl (Aleisa Shirley) starts attracting a lot of attention from boys as her 16th birthday approaches, but then each of those boys is brutally killed. Bo Hopkins plays the town sheriff investigating the murders and Dana Kimmell (Friday the 13th Part 3's Final Girl) is his daughter, a mystery junkie who wants in on the case. There's a really weird sexuality to the film, which goes out of its way to tell us the heroine is only 15 and then proceeds to have her naked a whole lot, and the murders are surprisingly brutal for a movie that seems to be more mystery than slasher. The mix is kind of fascinating, though, and the results feel just different enough for the early '80s period to warrant a recommendation. Instead of spending $30 on Code Red's Blu-ray, you can check it out in HD on Amazon Prime. The transfer is great. (Watch on Amazon Prime Video)
Tokyo Drifter (1966, dir. Seijun Suzuki) The work of Japanese cult filmmaker Seijun Suzuki can be an acquired taste, but I feel like even those unfamiliar with his special brand of crazy can appreciate Tokyo Drifter. It's about a former yakuza hitman (Tetsuya Watari) who has given up the life and is now being hunted by assassins. It's super stylized, as most of Suzuki's work is, but also gorgeously colorful and prone to the occasional musical number. Good luck getting the theme song out of your head for the next week. (Watch on Filmstruck)
Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death (1989, dir. J.F. Lawton) Despite being aware of this movie all my life because it has such a memorable title and played regularly as part of the USA Up All Night lineup, I only recently saw it for the first time. It's legitimately so much funnier than I expected. Shannon Tweed, in a rare fully clothed role (I think this was right before the start of her run as the queen of the erotic thriller), displays solid comic timing and a screen presence that makes me wish she had a different career. This also features a rare starring role for Bill Maher, who is funny as the butt of many jokes and whose smarmy face is as punchable as ever. The movie was written and directed under a pseudonym by J.F. Lawton, a good screenwriter whose later credits include Pretty Woman and both Under Siege movies. That helps explain why it's actually funny instead of just self-satisfied and stupid, which is what I was anticipating. (Watch on Full Moon Streaming)
Knightriders (1981, dir. George A. Romero) I'll be honest: I don't really want to think about the possibility of George Romero ever passing away. But I know he's getting up there in years and that the world seems bent on taking everyone good and leaving us with only human garbage, so it is an inevitability. When that horrible day comes, the first movie I'm going to watch is Knightriders, his inexcusably underrated opus about a group of bikers who act as King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table at Renaissance Fairs. It's the movie that feels like the mission statement of his career and a sad treatise on the passage of time. Ed Harris is the super principled leader -- a stand-in for Romero himself, who has been making movies for 50 years and has refused to sell out -- and Tom Savini gives a really strong dramatic performance as his second in command. The movie is long and has its own unique pace, but really suggests that Romero could have had a career outside the horror genre had things worked out a bit differently. Not that I'm complaining about how they did work out. (Watch on Shout Factory TV)
It’ll keep you on the edge of your saddle. As someone who grew up on the ‘80s output of Charles Bronson — movies in which he usually played a grimacing cop cleaning up the streets with his own brand of justice, usually for Cannon Films — I sometimes forget that he was once a big movie star who did more than scowl while wasting punks in New York. While fans of his Golden Age work probably know him best for movies like The Dirty Dozen and Once Upon a Time in the West, I’ve been discovering some of his smaller, lesser-known efforts in recent years and realizing that Bronson had a taste for the idiosyncratic and the potential to shine in those kinds of movies. The latest title to add to that list is From Noon Till Three, a charming and offbeat comic western recently released to Blu-ray from Twilight Time.
Bronson plays Graham Dorsey, an outlaw riding into town to pull off a robbery as part of a gang of bandits. Graham is having second thoughts, though, after a nightmare in which he envisions the robbery as a trap that gets him and his friends killed. He opts to stay back and hole up at the home of widow Starbuck (Jill Ireland, Bronson’s real-life wife), whose horse the gang had intended to steal. During the three-hour window before his friends return, Dorsey and Starbuck bicker, talk and eventually wind up in bed together, falling into a whirlwind romance from which Dorsey does not wish to leave. When he’s forced to ride out and check on the fate of his gang, everything changes and new legends are born.
It’s hard to describe the plot of From Noon Till Three in a way that accurately conveys the film’s pleasures. The screenplay, by writer/director Frank D. Gilroy, is based on his own novel and it feels like it: it’s a movie that continues to unfold in unpredictable ways based on who these characters are rather than establish a premise early on and follow it through in lockstep. The first act features bandits and shootouts and an outlaw taking refuge in the home of a good woman against her will — pretty standard western stuff — while the second act becomes a sweet and gentle romance. The third act…well, I don’t want to say what happens in the third act, as there’s almost no chance anyone can predict where the movie is going based on what has happened so far. When you see as many movies as I do, any movie that’s able to go to unexpected places is a welcome surprise.
While it may be too soon to make this kind of a declaration, I sat through From Noon Till Three pretty certain that it was the best I’d ever seen Bronson on screen. He gets to be funny and charming, sweet and romantic, petty and pathetic. He is more than likely a con man, but the fact that Bronson is able to keep us guessing as to his character’s true motivations is a sign of just how good his performance in the movie is — his Graham Dorsey could be seen in a number of ways, all of them potentially correct. It helps that he’s acting opposite his real-life wife Jill Ireland, with whom he has a genuine chemistry and who always brings out the best in the actor when acting opposite him. Ireland, like Bronson, creates in Widow Starbuck a character who is difficult to pin down, and while the first half of the film can be a little tough to stomach by 2016 standards (it is suggested that Bronson makes a woman fall in love with him after having sex one time, and by forcing himself on her no less), the back half of the movie turns the tables on both characters in such a way that it forces us to rethink exactly what has happened. Maybe things aren’t so cut and dried after all.
Twilight Time is releasing the Blu-ray of From Noon Till Three in their usual limited run of 3,000 units. The 1080p HD transfer offers the movie in its original 1.85:1 widescreen aspect ratio and looks great for a film that’s 40 years old; like most westerns, the color palette is subdued (limited to a lot of earth tones) but the image is bright and clean and filled with good texture and detail. Twilight Time always puts care into the transfers on their releases and it shows even on smaller titles like this. The lossless mono track offered for the main audio option is surprisingly strong, presenting clear dialogue and some lively effects, all mixed well with composer Elmer Bernstein’s lovely and quirky score. That score is actually offered as an isolated option, as is customary for Twilight Time. The only other bonus feature offered is the original theatrical trailer.
From Noon Till Three is exactly the kind of movie I love to discover — one that works within a familiar genre but which carves out its own space by not adhering to any strict rules about what story it can tell or the way it can tell it. It’s a small movie, sure, and could be dismissed as “slight,” but it actually has quite a bit to say about myth making and the way that legends are created and passed down, which is something with which almost all westerns concern themselves. At the very least, it allowed me to see a side of Charles Bronson I had never seen before. What a pleasant surprise this was.
Blu-ray release date: 99 minutes/1976/PG 1.85:1 1080p DTS HD 1.0 Master Audio (English)
Blu-ray bonus features: Isolated score Theatrical trailer
More random movie-related clips and memories. Holiday Blues
When I was a young Jewish boy, I was always terrified to let on how much I liked Christmas. A commercial like this one was one of many tests of my faith. It was all good if I wanted Oliver & Company Happy Meal toys from McDonald’s, but when I saw that they ALSO had Oliver and Dodger Christmas ornaments I had to have them. Trouble is, I was too scared to tell my mom and dad because I thought they would feel like I was denouncing Judaism. McDonald’s wasn’t making it any fucking easier because in order to get the ornaments I needed to spend five weeks' allowance for a $5 book of McDonald’s gift certificates. So I never got the ornaments.
I Got a Power Glove in My Swag Bag
I love when movies used to give you some kind of giveaway as a sweetener for seeing them. For example, Gladiator (1992) had a soundtrack for everyone who went to see it. The first tchotchke bribe I remember was for The Wizard. I would have seen that movie just because it starred Fred “hot off Little Monsters” Savage and featured a preview of the then brand-new Super Mario Bros. 3 video game. So I went to the mall with my dad (because where else would The Wizard be playing?) and we went to see The Wizard. The guy selling tickets was like “Would you like a free Nintendo Pocket Power Magazine?” so my dad checks in with me and I turned into the old guy with the telescope in Armageddon and was all “GET THE BOOK! GET THE BOOK! GET THE BOOK!” Not for real, but in my head I mean.
The Original Grindhouse
I was out-of-my-mind excited in 1990 when I heard that Disney was doing a DOUBLE FEATURE (with an intermission to boot) of their short The Prince and the Pauper followed by The Rescuers Down Under. It was a concept unlike anything I had ever seen. It felt special and going to see this double bill with my mom made my day. Disney movies sort of do this today, as each one is preceded by an animated short but the way The Prince and the Pauper/The Rescuers Down Under was marketed made it feel that much more special.
Training Day
Part One:
Lots to unpack. Let’s get started.
0:50 – I bet Mr. Harris is thrilled that his wife is telling any neighborhood teenager that he’s such a dullard.
1:26 – “Yo, Marie! Let’s wake up!”??? Like is she supposed to intuit that a disembodied upper-half is going to train her via a single in-store monitor? I don’t like where this is going.
2:25 – Don’t shame Marie, Buster Sales! Bon Jovi tickets are not an implicit promise of canoodling.
3:30 – It’s not Marie’s fault that a hot title like The Hunt for Red October is checked out, Mrs. Harris. Take it from a former Blockbuster Video employee (ME!), new releases are often checked out in the first two weeks of release. If anyone, blame your community.
3:48 – Who rents music videos? Take her through this slow, Marie. She’s not quick on the uptake.
4:35 – Sean Connery + Interest = More rentals and a happy customer. Got it! Also, More rentals and a happy customer – Interest = Sean Connery.
5:12 – Blockbuster mostly went out of business because the employees didn’t consult the pocket guide and commit the 50 biggest titles to memory. Sad!
5:40 – Things are pretty Boh-gus for Kristin. If Marie had it together, she should recommend Bogus with Whoopi Goldberg. It’ll be out in six years from when this video took place. It’ll be preceded by a marketing blitz so don’t worry, you won’t miss it.
6:27 – So Kristin’s rented that video five times. How bout not judgin’ your friend, Marie? Look how many videos she’s renting this visit. It’s turning into a Blockchanal! I thought she was babysitting? Shouldn’t she be watching the kids?
6:40 – Spike looooooves Star Trek. It’s like “he’s gotta have it.” #SpockLee
7:10 – “I’m coming to get you, Kristin” – Brad as he leaves the counter to show Kristin the Star Trek videos. Part Two:
I know what you’re thinking. Am I good enough to work at Blockbuster Video? You are! Let’s begin part two:
0:05 – Oh no! We’ve got a five-alarm side-ler.
0:28 – Eww! He referred to himself as a movie buff. I hope he never finds Casino Royale.
0:55 – Can you imagine this guy at home watching Casino Royale and enjoying it? I can. He’s probably listening to “Goodbye Horses” on a loop and muting the movie.
1:15 – (Jump Scare!)
1:36 – Is that a Video Log or the Torah?
2:00 – Now it’s just flirting.
2:28 – Oh, that’s pleasant. Damn you Buster Sales!
3:00 – There’s nothing more fetching than a brunette mid-PVT tape realization.
4:35 – Marge Simpson? “Doug’s a nerd?” Assholes. Not the Buster Way.
4:55 – “Remember, Marie. Nerd-shame the customer!” – Buster Sales
5:15 – My husband’s $10 limit? This is why we march! I feel bad for Doug.
6:22 – Clean the VCR head every 20 hours or so? That seems excessive. Wake up. Eat. Go to work. Eat. Clean VCR. Sleep. Repeat. #IDidItMyWay
7:00 – Doug doesn’t seem so bad especially since Marie was fawning over Pink Panther guy earlier. I don’t like the way she barked “Saturday BEFORE MIDNIGHT!” at them.
7:55 – Joan’s got a shit attitude. She’d be better suited at Hollywood Video. And finally, good on Marie – she’s saw Brian and seized the opportunity!
There’s Somethin’ Happenin’ Here…
Aladdin was a pivotal movie during my childhood. It was the movie that, for some reason, broke the string of my parents taking me to see every Disney movie in theaters. Also, when Burger King was selling Aladdin cups, it was no longer a given that I would be getting one. It’s like… I was growing up or I was too old for them all of a sudden. I was 10 and this was the end of the innocence. This commercial was crazy sad for me because right off the top, Dan Cortese (aka the best of us) and the Burger King Kids Club are all raising their hands that they saw Aladdin AND went to BK to get the new Aladdin magic cup. BUT I DIDN’T DO EITHER. I had to wear a scarlet BK. Plus, it wasn’t a regular cup, you guys. It was a magic cup that changed color when you filled it up! Because I was suddenly a grown up, I guess, I was allowed to have a shrimp dinner basket at BK (with table service…remember when they had that for a short time?).
You Can Keep Your Precious Sundance!
I think it’s funny that McDonald’s sold videotapes (as part of their “Holiday Film Festival”) for many reasons. Just seeing a copy of Ghost next to a Big Mac is funny. Imagine going up to the counter and being like “Yeah, a number one, medium, Diet Coke, two Sweet and Sour Sauces and Charlotte’s Web.” Also, I remember this commercial WORKED for me. I already owned Ghost and Wayne’s World so I remember going through this whole charade with my parents pretending I liked The Addams Family just so they could take me to McDonald’s to buy a movie that I didn’t like (I can’t believe I forgot to talk about that on The Addams Family podcast!). The McDonald’s ads were just so exciting to me that it didn’t matter what they were selling. I just needed to be part of the McDonald’s Holiday Film Festival. If they re-introduce it I promise to report from there with F This Movie! press credentials.
They Spared No Expense
I sit with my mouth agape at the marketing blitz that went out for the VHS release of Jurassic Park. It’s so epic the promo even needed its own end credits. Who is going to manage all of this? What was the aftermath? Were any babies conceived at the MTV Beach Parties promoting the JP VHS release? And did you see that 168 unit floor merchandiser with opening gates and lights??? I need to review MCA/Universal Home Video’s financial reports for 1994 and 1995 and learn how much retail revenue occurred! As a person with a degree in Marketing, this kind of thing makes me hard.
I Am One with the Special Editions. The Special Editions are One with Me.
Say what you want about the Star Wars special edition trilogy, but this trailer made them look amazing (I especially dig this trailer’s first 30 seconds). I remember seeing this play before Jingle All The Way at the Randhurst 16 back in November 1996 when the theater just opened and was the first I ever went to with stadium seating. The whole experience was magical. At that point, I had never seen the three original Star Wars films in their entirety and I was beside myself excited to see them on the big screen. I ended up watching them all for the first time (the entire way through) on USA about a week later (like you’re supposed to?). I’ll always remember the special excitement there was the night I went with my friends to see Star Wars: The Special Edition on Friday, January 31, 1997 at 9:45pm (because the 7pm show sold out..which added to the whole experience). We ended up chilling at the nearby Randhurst Mall for 2 hours as we waited for the late show; eating chicken teriyaki at Sarku Japan, going to the comic book store and Suncoast Video and talking Wars. Good times!
Got any cool clips to share? Leave them in the comments below.
Everyone lay off Rob and Sheri Moon Zombie. So I know this article is a little out of date, as Rob Zombie's latest directorial effort 31 was released last October and there's no "newsworthy" justification for bringing any of this up. Truth be told, I wasn't a big fan of that movie; even as someone who has liked every one of his past films, this one felt like Rob Zombie was autopiloting to the point of self parody. Because it was one of the movies I was most looking forward to in 2016, it also wound up being one of my biggest disappointments.
I come here not to reassess 31, however, nor to defend what I agree are its many problems. But I have been listening to a lot of Zombie's music in the last few weeks (unusual for me, as I haven't really been in to anything heavy since my Ministry/Body Count/Pigface days in high school), and as a result have been watching a number of his videos on YouTube. His wife, Sheri Moon Zombie, appears in many of them -- most famously "Living Dead Girl," still one of my favorite music videos of all time.
Seeing Sheri Moon pop up in so many of his videos reminded me of a common criticism of Zombie's work: he needs to stop casting his wife. This complaint dates back to 2003 and Zombie's first movie, House of 1000 Corpses, in which fans mistook an obnoxious character for an obnoxious performance. Sure, Baby Firefly's constant shrill cackle and self-consciously "playful" personality can be grating. That's the way the character is written. She's the spider designated to catch flies, so she has to appear the most normal of the Fireflies while still a psychotic who really, truly enjoys being a psychotic. Sheri Moon plays all of that. Don't confuse the part with the actor.
But it is not my intention to defend each of Sheri Moon's performances, despite the fact that I believe they get better with each movie, culminating in The Lords of Salem in which I think she is genuinely quite good. Even if she wasn't, that's not the point. The point is that I want horror fans to stop complaining when Zombie casts his wife. I want him to continue casting whoever the fuck he wants.
Watching "Living Dead Girl" and "Never Gonna Stop (Red Red Kroovy)" and the much more recent "Hideous Exhibitions of a Dedicated Gore Whore," I was reminded of how much I love the relationship between Zombie and Sherri Moon. They love each other a lot. They like to spend time together and work together. Zombie isn't casting his wife because she's "available." He's writing parts specifically for her. Sherri Moon isn't using her husband's films as a platform to a bigger acting career; in fact, she's hardly appeared in anything that he hasn't directed. Theirs is a love story played out across two decades and dozens of collaborations. They act as muse for one another. I think that's totally beautiful.
No, Sheri Moon is not a classically trained actress, and yes, sometimes her performances have called attention to themselves when a particular moment doesn't land. I'm not suggesting that no one should be critical of her work (or any work by any artist for that matter), just that there is a huge difference between "that performance didn't work for me" and "she should never be given a role again!" First of all, I'm a big believer in the idea of filmmakers being given complete freedom to make exactly the movie they want, and asserting casting decisions on anyone flies in the face of that belief. More than that, though, is that I don't get why anyone who is a fan of Rob Zombie's movies and is watching a Rob Zombie movie somehow thinks that the performance of one actor is really fucking things up. Back when he was co-hosting the post-Ebert incarnation of At the Movies, the great Chicago Tribune critic (and one half of my wife's #RelationshipGoals) Michael Phillips once remarked -- and I'm paraphrasing -- that "acting is the last thing to go wrong with a movie." If we are noticing what we think is a bad performance, it is likely the result of some bad writing, or a scene that's been shot or edited poorly, or a director making the wrong choice in actor or any number of issues that might have been addressed before blaming the actor.
This does not mean that Sheri Moon -- or any actor, for that matter -- is entirely inculpable on screen. But I simply do not believe it's possible for someone to love everything about a Rob Zombie movie but draw the line at a single performance. He is a filmmaker with a very specific, very distinct and sometimes overpowering personal aesthetic. It's in the writing, the costuming, the production design, the songs he chooses for the soundtrack, the casting of familiar genre faces -- all those things that make a Rob Zombie movie a "Rob Zombie movie." You're either on board for this stuff or you're not. If you're into it (and I am), it's difficult for me to imagine that you can like all of the big choices Zombie makes but then determine that a Sheri Moon performance is simply a bridge too far. And I also totally get it if you're not into it. His work is not for everyone. But saying that he shouldn't cast his wife is ignoring all of the larger issues you have with his work because pointing to something like nepotism is easier and widely acceptable as being "wrong" (even if that's bullshit). I don't care if it's Helen Goddamn Mirren playing Michael Myers' Ghost Mom leading a horse around, no one is suddenly going to like Halloween II with a change in one actor.
I remember hearing someone (I wish I could remember who) defend Yoko Ono once by pointing out that John Lennon really loved her, and that if he hadn't had that relationship we don't know if he would have made all the music he did in the years they were together or helped to change the world. It has become a cheap joke to suggest that Lennon would have automatically stayed with The Beatles if not for Yoko, but that's impossible to speculate. What we do know is that "Imagine" exists and that his relationship with Yoko Ono deserves at least some of the credit. Now, I'm not directly comparing Rob Zombie to John Lennon, nor Sheri Moon to Yoko, but it's something I've thought about as I've been going through his work and noticing that one of the major commonalities is her participation. Like I said, I'm a big fan of Zombie, and I know that we are getting the work we get from him in part because of his relationship with Sheri Moon.
We're seeing the same thing happening now with Kevin Smith, who has been casting his wife Jennifer Schwalbach since the early 2000s and is now writing and directing starring vehicles for his teenage daughter Harley Quinn Smith. Again, there are the critics and internet mouthbreathers who cry nepotism and suggest that Smith shouldn't be casting his family and turning his work into glorified home movies. I'm someone who found Yoga Hosers fun, and a big part of that is because Smith cast his daughter. Not only do I think she gives a charming and likable performance, but I also really like that Smith is creatively inspired specifically because he wants to showcase his daughter and give her the chance to play in a band and fight Nazis and do yoga and clown around on screen. Would the people who hate the movie -- and there are plenty -- like it better if Elle Fanning was in the lead? Without Harley Quinn, there's a good chance the film wouldn't even exist. Of course there are plenty of folks who would argue that it shouldn't exist, but I have to call bullshit on that, too. Love them or hate them, I'm glad that Kevin Smith is getting to make exactly the movies he wants to make right now. And if what he wants to make is a love letter to his daughter, well, that's beautiful too.
So, again, I know this isn't exactly relevant. But it's something that's I've been thinking about a lot, and I've always said that there's no point in having your own site if you can't talk about what's on your mind. The complaint that Rob Zombie keeps casting his wife is lazy and hack, like mispronouncing M. Night Shyamalan despite the fact that he has been a household name for nearly 20 years. If you hate his work, it doesn't matter who he casts. If you love his work, you love it because you love his choices and the fact that he creates on his own terms. He has made exactly the music and the movies he wants to make in exactly the way he wants to make them, and that includes working alongside the love of his life and greatest collaborator. I hope Zombie and Sheri Moon make stuff with each other forever and I'll be devastated if they ever stop working together someday, because it means that either a) they have split up or b) one of the two has finally caved to all the complaints of fans and non-fans alike. I don't see that happening, though, and that's what makes them special. So few love stories last in the entertainment business, and to watch two artists who are creative and have integrity stay together personally and professionally for 20 years is inspiring. We should all be so lucky. Come to think of it, some of us are.
