The Short Version? Zombie day laborer endures routine What Is It? Dramazomedy Who Is In It? Additional Voice Talent, Saw III & IV Should I See It? No.
Gus Lawton (David Kemker) is a failed comic supported the past half-dozen years by his wife, Deborah (Shauna Black.) Gus proves as unsuccessful at adultery as everything else in his life, and winds up forced into servitude at Deborah's rural childhood home in hopes of making amends. Gus inadvertently awakens a buried zombie dubbed Quinto (David Sparrow,) who he uses to do his many chores while he works on a terrible caveman themed stand-up act Gus intends to try out in a barn on the local yokels. Quinto unsurprisingly gets up to flesh eating shenanigans while unsupervised, which complicates the Lawtons plans.
Zombie Dearest is clearly a vanity project for writer-director-star David Kemker, who apparently had enough industry ties to call in favors to match '80s Canadian television production values, pull a strong bluegrass cut for the trailer ("Ain't No Grave" by Crooked Still) and cast a credible co-star. Due to the minimal competence on display, it's difficult to tell whether Kemker intended for his characters to be unlikeable, arrogant left-coasters, or if Gus' act is so wretched because Kemker was afraid rednecks might actually laugh at it if he put even an ounce of effort into the writing. It's probably not a good idea to do bad work on purpose when you're an unknown quantity, since it's so easily mistaken for being of poor quality in itself. It doesn't help that a pseudo-love triangle is resolved off-screen, a major plot point about the town's history with the supernatural is never addressed, and the picture is tone deaf as a whole.
At its core, this is an indie flick about displaced liberals in the sticks and their hubris, but it's played too broadly to offer insight. There appears to be overtures toward this being a comedy, but the film doesn't come within spitting distance of funny at any point. Then there's the zombie element, which is so tacked-on that it's safe to assume its involvement was motivated by mercenary inclinations. The film owes more to W.W. Jacobs' "The Monkey's Paw" than George Romero, so when the shit hits the fan in the final minutes of the last act, it flies briefly and with a remarkable lack of feces. Just to rub it in, there's a twist ending that's more depressing than most zombie flicks for the exact wrong reason. This could have been a decent enough half-hour entry in an anthology, but as a full length feature it is completely charmless.
The Short Version? Plan 9 from I-59 What Is It? Zomedy Who Is In It? Rednecks Should I See It? Maybe
Hide and Creep is a mildly amusing entry in the zombie comedy subgenre. It earns good will in the early going through slacker comedy, much of it delivered through a "one of us" sarcastic pop culture geek from out of a Kevin Smith movie. There's also a lot of southerners making fun of southerners (filmed in Alabama by Alabamans,) which is much more fun and legit than when goddamned Yankees try to pull it off. On the other hand, a Dawn of the Dead/King of the Hill mash-up isn't for all tastes, and you will not be surprise to learn these guys were working from a $20,000 budget. The make-up and effects are amateurish, the acting isn't much better, and the direction is so bad at times that even a layperson will question the framing. The first half hour is the sweet spot, as characters and quirky situations are introduced. For instance, the "R" rating isn't just for the full frontal male nudity in the opening scene, but who expected that to be a question in the first place? Both figuratively and literally ballsy. Once the foundation is laid and the initial questions answered though, the lack of variety and depth in the characters wear on the nerves, and there's a strong sense of the screenwriter spitballing for scenarios to keep the crew busy until the arbitrary ending. Enjoyment will to depend on getting your drink on from the top, so your standards can drop off as sharply as the material in the second half.
The Short Version? Sex. City Optional. What Is It? Comedy-Drama Who Is In It? Nobody you know. Should I See It? Maybe.
Like most scripted original cable softcore series, The Girl's Guide to Depravity has a weird, sketchy history. Originally running from late February through May of 2012, the show stayed off the schedule for sixteen months, only to return with a rejiggered cast/sets/etc. What were the adventures of a couple of under-thirty professional women and best friends following the dating advice of the exalted but rarely seen Sienna switches to a trio that shuffles off the former co-lead in the season premiere. The show used to go out of its way to tell viewers it was set and filmed in Chicago, but it looks like Bucharest, Romania is now its primary locale. Basically, the series must have worked well enough to manage an extension, but not so well as to evade sweeping changes. How well does that work out? Let's see...
"The Girl On Girl Rule": Since last season, Rebecca Blumhagen has co-starred with Parker Lewis Can't Lose in a straight to video sci-fi thriller, and has in the pipeline a romantic comedy with Jaimie Kennedy and fourth lead in a Lily Tomlin vehicle. That's positively stellar compared to the currently unemployed actress Sally Golan, which bums me out. Sam may have gotten the web hits for her occasional awkward reverse-jailbait shagging, but Lizzie was the salvation of most episodes with her distinctive looks and steadier delivery of the goods. Lizzie may have been the less likable "bitch" character, but she was also the determined, motivated one who could cycle through boy toys and had a "story engine" through her legal career to create plots. Sam is the relationship girl, who is still in a relationship with the relationship guy from last season. All of Sam's plots last season were about her desperation to land a man, and as the meek "relatable" one, her carrying the show on her own spells trouble.
The season premiere is extremely clunky, trying to pull off the effects and overall vibe of the series debut on a plainly smaller budget with two seeming Cousin Olivers wedged in. However, the soundtrack for the musical montage is good, and it soon becomes apparent that John Doggett and Monica Reyes might end up being Steve Urkels. Instead of bringing back Dirty Hot Guy, some French dude is introduced and incites Lizzie's exit. Sam has boring, badly scripted old people sex with the returning Jason (Jesse Liebman.) With the reliably porny neighbor Riley Steele quietly written out, the show desperately needed new blood. Playing to extremes, Tessa Harnetiaux's Megan is vastly more pathetic and clueless than season 1 Sam, while Megan Barrick's Jenna overshoots Lizzie, aiming for Sienna-level calculated depravity. That actually makes more sense for a series based on a tongue-in-cheek blog intended to guide young women in the ways of debauchery and revenge. Veteran writer Chloe Danger and director Alex Merkin maintain the tone of the first season, and once the messy business of the retooling is dispensed with, one hopes the cavorting shenanigans will see an uptick.
The Do Me Rule: You have to give the show credit for having much greater conviction in its characters and stories than most Skinemax fare. Lizzie only has a cameo, but her presence (or lack thereof) still permeates every scene involving Sam and/or Jason. It matters that she was there and is now gone, so I suspect the producers want to keep the door open. I understand Sally Golan is an event planner and daughter of a billionaire, so this might all be on her.
Moving on, the men appearing on this show have gotten sleazier, and therefore offer more excuses for guiltless abuse, as opposed to the more average-to-nebbish fellows last season. Time is being taken to organically insert the new characters into the ongoing narrative, which is appreciated. God, the new girls are white though. Like, deep European forest white where communism prevented immigration and commingling of the races white. It's also unfortunate that on-screen texting plays a major part in scenes, but the effects are so poorly executed as to be illegible. It's the first program I know of to recreate the tedium of sidelining a conversation to wait for your friend to finish playing with her phone.
The Bar Sex Rule:
I'm not sure the geeks or anyone else have won when even softcore shows start integrating heavy continuity into their narratives. There's callbacks to previous episodes this season, one from last season, and developing subplots. I'm not sure all this fucking soap opera is good for my fucking cable porn. Anyway, it's a nice enough episode, where the Barney Stimple type Dean (Nick Clark) gets a sort of comeuppance, but not before a decent few minutes of boning. The new trio of leads finally come together, not entirely organically, but it's progress.
Megan should be my type, but as written, she's horrible. She hooks up with a guy who falls on the wrong side of believable metrosexuality while both praise a horrendous eurotrash dance song as "genius." I'm hating these two, and I have no faith in his having an actual boner. Speaking of boners, way to wait until the end of episode three to alleviate the main impediment of the series moving forward.
The Morning After Rule: Oh, dear, God. Who wants lots of slow moving relationship stuff in their softcore? How about a show where there are two job locations spotlighting hateful dragon ladies, and the viewer sides with them over the spineless pseudosympathetic primary characters? Oh, and the hardbodies that get a sex scene with potential in the first half peter out quickly with lots of guilt attached. Yay? Rebecca Blumhagen has been co-writing these episodes, and that perhaps needs to stop.
This show feels like it's in damage control mode. Lizzie keeps phoning (or in this case, Skyping) in cameos to keep her presence felt. Rachel Ward (Chasty Ballesteros) is a newer character whose entire personality is formed out of Lizzie's working relationship with Jason and other "lesser" men. Megan is a more pathetic overacted spare Samantha, who has herself mostly drifted aimlessly. Jenna, who was already a combination of Lizzie and Sienna, has her screen time given to Rachel as she (barely) appears as gullible and passive while her boyfriend is off doing what he does. In the midst of all this, Sam's younger brother Charlie (Blake Lowell) moves in. Why the fuck are there so many new redundant characters crowding the air out of the room? If women are writing these shows, why isn't there more diversity in the personalities of the female characters? In a show with "depravity" in the goddamned title, why is everyone moping and muddling through boring couplings?
The Get Under Another Rule: I started watching episodes from the first and second seasons consecutively, pitting them against one another, with the first season winning consistently. However, "he Bitch Rule" was one of the least appealing episodes of the first run, so there's a chance for a shake-up here.
Not off to a good start, though. Jenna seemed like she was going to be the crazy cool vindictive "Girl," but she settled back into boring couples sex with her cheating longtime boyfriend Ben, making her the wrong kind of sucker for this type of program. Speaking of dull partners, Sam and Jason are still dealing with their issues, though I prefer Jason's handling. Megan continues to be borderline disturbing and squicky. It's up to newly introduced supporting characters Rachel, Charlie, Dean, and Jason's lesbian ex Amy (Nicole Rodenburg) to keep the show afloat. The unconvincing trio of girlfriends sure aren't making it happen. The episode ultimately pulls ahead of the pack through some peculiar but amusing creative choices and some of the most interesting sex scenes of the season late in the show.
The Fuck Yes Rule: Bi-seasonal synchronization is proving detrimental to my viewing pleasure, as this episode continues the upward trajectory from last time, but I watched it after seeing "The Magic Pussy Rule," one of the best episodes of the entire series. Sally Golan and Rebecca Blumhagen had a rare, sincere chemistry by softcore standards that clearly cannot by replicated. The producers are wisely pushing the show to become more of an ensemble, here spotlighting Amy in only her second show appearance. I don't recall if we've seen any girl-girl action previously on this series, and while the sex scene doesn't quite click, I respect the handling of the new lesbian elements. I just wish the attempts at comedy landed, like, almost ever. There's some needed (though predictable) story progression, so that's a good thing.
The Hos Before Bros Rule: The show appears to finally be settling after the upheaval of the first half of the season, but what it's settling for is more in line with an upscale Life on Top or Co-Ed Confidential than the low rent Sex & the City of season 1. There are a lot more characters offering greater opportunities and varieties for sex scenes, but they're all sub-sitcom shallow, though there still seems to be effort in the writing/acting/production values above the typical Skinemax fare. On the other hand, the illogical convolutions necessary to get out of them clothes seem like an awful lot of work when fellow network fare embraces a more laissez-faire (porny) attitude. Meanwhile the sex doesn't benefit from the added neurosis and dubious characterization. I mean HBO's Girls is one of the least sexy and most depressing things on TV, so having Sam's current beau be an Adam Driver cosplayer is a bit of a turn-off. It would almost be an improvement to return to the nondescript himbos she cycled through before Jason.
The Basic Instincts Rule: This episode addresses some subplots, and by that I mean stuff that has gotten mentioned here and there progressed a smidge in a single story, not that there's some overarching narrative coming to fruition. This is a checklist of plot points on an email circulating the writing staff's mailing group, not Saucy Seinfeld. Probably the best possible coupling among the new characters was dismissed as a one-off, but it's not like we need another static relationship, and it's not like anyone cares about these people. In a nod to progress, the lesbian gets scenes of development in her coupling, but no sex, and her ambivalence counters her initial depiction as a free spirit injecting some pizzazz into the show. Perceptive Bear has hooked up with the only other gay guy on the show, Tyler the barkeep, but I'll allow it because he's the best character on the show whose name I can't recall, so he needs more screen time. I do remember Dean's name now though, because he kept appearing, even though he's a stereotypical womanizer whose main purpose is to aggravate the increasingly unsympathetic and uncharismatic Sam while delivering the eye candy for his nigh-episodic schtooping sessions (by which I mean he's done the deed in many episodes, not that his scenes make you want to hit the fast-forward button from tedium, like sex addict Ben's.) Something's gone terribly wrong when the "plucky" female lead is waging a workplace war against a slimy heel, and you don't know if you should root for her, because at least the cad isn't a total boor.
The Wingwoman Rule: Blair! Perceptive Bear is Blair. It even rhymes. Oh, and Amy is the lesbian. I thought it was kind of dehumanizing to just call her the lesbian. Yes, she's several episodes into a storyline about her anxiety over moving in with a girl she's only known a few weeks that takes up approximately 90 seconds per episode, and her only other appearances have been as a barmaid serving her "friends" with minimal dialogue, and she's had two instances of showing her tits for totally arbitrary reasons plus one tepid love scene, so all signs point to her being a stereotypical committee inclusion instead a character any of the writers want to deal with, but that's no excuse to define her solely by her sexual preference. She's Amy the Token Lesbian. I can probably remember that.
What was this episode about? Oh yeah-- after my shit talking, the show really is advancing a variety of established storylines seemingly toward a resolution by season's end. Ben struggles with his sex addiction while Jenna stands way too firmly behind him. Megan might actually be formulating some sort of personality as she and Charlie prove less casual than either thought. Sam's passivity has been falling away between her conflicted relations with Jason and not-Adam Driver, but more so because of her professional and personal rivalry with Dean combined with the stress of her girlfriends' needs. Sam could no longer carry the show as Sam, so she's filling the personality and motivational vacuum left by Lizzie. Blumhagen can't carry it off as well as Golan did by half, but it's better than Sam continuing to float along. There's a couple of sex scenes if I recall correctly-- no wait, three. They're all kind of fucked and unappealing, but they come somewhat naturally from the stories. But, umm, what I said about lowlife Dean being a better character than Sam this season? Developments here embolden that dicey proposition. Sam is behind the most depraved initiative of the show's history, but it's really not cool, y'know'wa'a'mean?
The Breakup Sex Rule: Holy shit, this show is becoming zany! Zany is good. It's fun and bubbly and entertains during the refractory period. The writers are also carrying their storylines along, with continuity and complications that keep things interesting. One problem I had with the first season was its "you can watch any episode in any order without it mattering much" nature, which is fine if you're just doing crappy softcore, but nobody writes reviews for that stuff that don't involve a picture scale of various stages of penile erection as its primary critical measure. They still need to figure out what to do with The Lesbian Amy though, because her dull story isn't going anywhere and feels like an intrusion on the better material surrounding it. Also, since this season has been at least partially defined by my increasing dislike of Sam, I'll add that she has another sex scene that is practically interchangeable with any other Sam sex scene throughout the series. It's funny, as Megan started out as entirely pathetic, but has worked her way up to replacing season one Sam, except Megan's sex scenes are much more diverse in practice and partners. Plus, Sam cockblocked Megan and Charlie, which was a better pairing than any other in the series. Megan's become a better Sam than Sam, while Sam's a much worse Lizzie, so I'm at the point where the character could be jettisoned and it would only improve the show.
The Back Door Rule: Hannah Fierman's Pill Pusher Patty was great in the first season, so I resented Christina Collard's replacement Pill Pusher Penni, but she ended up in five times as many episodes. That's bound to wear you down if the actor is any good at all, so while I miss Patty's intensity and near psychic intuition, Penni's bizarre behavior and chemistry with Tyler won me over. Sam and Ryan's screwball romcom plot makes me not hate both those characters. I don't know why they saved all the good music for later episodes, but I really enjoy the soul and jazz numbers that enhance the lovemaking and even comedy bits. Rachel and Jason remain among my favorite characters, though I was bummed that this was easily Chasty Ballesteros' worst material of the season, and hope that was an aberration. Regardless, I'm liking the series again, and now that it's got so many decent characters to work with, I'm hopeful a third season wouldn't be as disrupted by a single actor's departure as this one.
The Breaking and Entering Rule: Okay, it's taken me, like, a year to finish watching this season and do the write-ups. I even reread my season one review, and I'm pretty sure I never credited Sam's current love interest Ryan (Jesse Pepe) or that scene stealing Perceptive Bear Blair (Jeff Takacs.) Feels good to make that happen. While I haven't been super diligent or anything, it seems like Chloe Danger wrote most of the season, and Alex Merkin directed much of it, through good and bad. I did credit The Lesbian Amy (Nicole Rodenburg,) who has been resigned to being a sounding board for Sam and receiving only one sex scene half a season ago. That character was treated shabbily, and her wretched, exasperatingly padded non-narrative blessedly resolves. Rachel's sex scenes are half as good with Jason as with anyone else, but at least they're still solid enough, and the one in this episode has an especially nice song playing over it. I even tried to Google it up through the lyrics, which is more effort than I usually expend on these reviews. Jenna turned out to be a total snooze of a character, so I'd hate to see the commendable sleaze Dean end up with her, but I'll admit that they get up to fun shenanigans in the later episodes. Could have done without the plot point that hinges on an unreadable onscreen text. Megan continues to have problems, but she's getting better, while Sam predictably sputters. The forced drama of the last scene was a drag. Say, the credits confirm the show still has a Chicago unit, so good for them. Maybe I should find that song while I've still got the credits on my DVR...
The Coming Together Rule: That last dangling plot point is used to wrap up the season, and it involves the camera lingering on Chasty Ballesteros' bare ass while making Sam deeply uncomfortable. Go on... I'm with you on this. Speaking of uncomfortable, Dean proving a better relationship guru than Sienna doesn't feel like the right way to go on a "Girl's Guide" show, but I like Dean so much better than "the rules" that I'll stay aboard. He might even redeem Megan, who gets another good lay, quietly serving as the show's MVP in that department. Pill Pusher Penni on the other hand gets trampled over as the season winds down. It would be best to get Patty back for season 3 after this. There's a lot of attempted humor in the back half of the episode that doesn't come across, and even with some important reunions in the finale, the closing feels cheap and tacked-on. It doesn't help that Sam and Ryan and some sort of coupling mandate dominates.
Two seasons in, and I'd have to say this is a show where I'd cherry-pick maybe three episodes a year to tepidly recommend to anyone. Things wrap here much the same way they did with season one-- the promise of a show that had good moments and hopefully has its shit together to fully deliver next time. However, season two was a hot mess, and who knows when or if season 3 will happen with what component parts. My recommendations would be that if you're going to have gay characters as more than comic relief, don't be afraid to let them do some gay shit. Get a stronger, more appealing mentor figure if you're going to keep the "rules" aspect, but it would be okay to toss that crap. If Lizzie isn't a season regular again in S3, she'd be perfect as a recurring guest star in this capacity, showing up to set the "Girls" straight in times of trouble. Much better than making them seem like bimbos spouting slut scripture that doesn't legitimately play. Rachel could also serve in that role, though preferably in the regular cast. Jenna needs to develop past a featureless victim who gets revenge. Maintain Megan's progress. Seriously consider downgrading Sam's screen time, as that character was a weak link that dragged the whole show down. Work on your skin-fu for better depravity in a show that never lives up to the title. Finally, for goodness sake, please write the leading female characters with the diversity and verve of the male supporting cast, who routinely outshine the presumed subjects of the damned program. That last one is a rule the show may well live or die by.
The Short Version? Superman II Too What Is It? Superhero action Who Is In It? The tall guy from The Tudors, Maximus, Cousin Beth from Buffy, Nelson Van Alden, K.C. Waterworld esq., the hot adulteress from Unfaithful, Morpheus and Det. Elliot Stabler Should I See It? Probably.
Superman comics were among the first I ever read, and seeing the 1979 Christopher Reeve movie was one of my earliest memories of a theatrical experience. I watched reruns of the George Reeves series and have seen my share of the various TV versions since. Basically, like most everyone in the free world, I've had plentiful exposure to the Last Son of Krypton. I also suspect that all of us, no matter how much we may have enjoyed the various attempts to translate the character to live action, have always been at least a little disappointed in how low-key the action has been in those features. A great deal of money was spent on Superman Returns for him to appear far less super than the X-Men in their movies, and fans of Smallville waded through a decade of shoddy cosplay waiting for a payoff that never came. Man of Steel wants to make up for that. It wants to give you every super power and all the vicious alien adversaries and every extraordinary obstacle and all the titanic destruction every previous cinematic Superman was lacking, and it does. No super-hero movie has ever been as visually spectacular. You just have to bring all the baggage from those prior Superman encounters with you, because the movie gives you little else but the boom.
The throughline of Man of Steel comes directly from the two Donner films. On the planet Krypton, Jor-El tangles with the forces of General Zod while attempting unsuccessfully to convince authorities that their world is doomed. Baby Kal-El rockets from his exploding home world to Earth, where he's raised by kindly farmers in Kansas. Clark Kent is eventually told of his heritage, is counseled by his ghostly alien father, and grows to become Superman. Kal-El's presence on Earth attracts Zod and his surviving followers, who wreck havoc on Superman's adoptive world and threaten his reporter girlfriend Lois Lane.
Superman Returns was a surprisingly boring movie as it carried over threads from the Donner films and took them down weird, wrong-headed new roads. Man of Steel is surprisingly not a boring movie despite offering a stylish Cliff's Notes condensation of major story beats from two flicks thirty years ago. Director Zack Snyder is shooting for pure Americana, playing with focus and static shots to create an iconic pictorial with a Superman theme. The thing about icons is that they represent something universal in the simplest, most direct terms. The stick figure on a bathroom stall is immediately recognizable and functional, but they aren't known for their emotional resonance. Man of Steel is designed to remind the viewer of feelings inspired by other works, then deliver on their unfulfilled promises of grand comic book throwdowns. In this way, it shares a lot of functionality with the flood of XXX super-hero parodies, bringing the goods previously denied in an effective manner, but walking back the gains in respectability made by the medium in recent years by pandering to man's most primitive desires.
Similarly, this film is filled with former stars and current high grade character actors who were seemingly cast to compensate for their abysmal treatment on the script page. Henry Cavill is an attractive cypher in the titular role. He has a great body and carries himself well, offering as few lines as possible to maximize the viewer's ability to project whatever they want Superman to be onto his performance. Amy Adams helps to transition away from the annoying shrieking straw feminist Lois Lane of Margot Kidder and sands off the rough edges of Teri Hatcher and Dana Delany to make the dogged journalist to content modern audience while ensuring she still has long plunges to be caught from by strong Kryptonian arms. Jimmy Olsen has had problems making a connection with viewers, so he was recast as a spare damsel in distress, then the change was downplayed with enough ambiguity that her presence didn't register any offense being perpetrated. Laurence Fishburne plays a newspaper editor in a few perfunctory scenes, negating any objection to the colorblind recasting of Perry White by not registering in an appreciable way by the time the credits roll. God help us, Kevin Costner is probably the closest thing we have to Glenn Ford today, and he gets it done. I enjoyed Diane Lane's southern fried matriarch over Costner's po-face, as she rang true and is unique to the super-hero cinematic cannon, even if her primary reference for drawl and spirit was probably Steel Magnolias. The beefiest parts in the thin soup go to Russell Crowe and Michael Shannon, whose pair of Kryptonian leaders are elevated above the material via comparatively extended screen time and gnawing on the scenery itself.
Zack Snyder smartly avoids his more in-your-face gimmicks, and has turned up with some gratifying, appropriate new ones for the ⅔rds of the movie that requires a director. The CGI sections are fatty as a result, and while I dislike a design aesthetic that renders Krypton as steampunk Anne McCaffrey, the visuals are strong. The real problem, and I've been harping on this for ages, is screenwriter David S. Goyer. There was a time when he was one of the only writers who took comic book material seriously, even if his idea of adaptation was to essentially swipe sequences right out of the books and stitch them together with his own sorry authorial abilities. In the late '90s, that was enough, and even later than that his ineptitude was concealed by visionary directors, excellent casts and an all-encompassing creative unit within which he was consistently the weakest link. By virtue of the fantastic nature of Superman, Goyer's paltry contributions cannot distract and derail the way they did on the Dark Knight Trilogy, but I'm fearful that he might have an opportunity to damage less sturdy properties like Wonder Woman and the Justice League based on the good fortune he's found through association. Please remember in the future that Goyer unbuoyed brought us The Crow: City of Angels, Nick Fury: Agent of Shield, Blade: Trinity, and Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance. Marvel Studios may be heavyhanded in its oversight of the creative process on their movies, but consistency enforced from above still allows for varied colors within the margins. Every time the studios run back to safe, stupid Goyer, we get super-heroes processed through one creative sensibility and increasingly insurmountable plot holes.
Gripes aside, Goyer isn't all bad, and it would be difficult not to find value in a film containing this much talent. Krypton is a much more exciting place than it's ever been before, borrowing from the pilot to Superman: The Animated Series and yes, sigh, The Matrix. Clark Kent's course to Superman is altered in a way that facilitates action sequences and keeps things moving at a brisk pace. You can't say the stunt casting was a waste when seasoned presences keep you engaged despite their individual roles proving cynically threadbare. Two exposition heavy scenes are rescued by arresting CGI visuals that make an impression. The portion that liberally remakes Superman II is packed with cool punch-kick-block. Ursa and Non by any other name are very much the same, though Faora-Ul required martial arts and nifty FX where Sarah Douglas was simply scary through performance. Whatever its failings, Man of Steel is entertaining and occasionally even beautiful, at least until the lengthy final act cut scenes, a complete disregard for human life and PTSD disorders in the audience, and the tone deaf coda seeing the audiences out on a sour note. Despite Goyer's red carpet warnings, The Avengers needn't watch their back, since those movies by necessity retain a connecting human element with the need to develop unproven characters, whereas Man of Steel had all the room it needed for tedious, unengaging, full scale disaster porn since the characters came pre-sold. It's not the greatest Superman movie ever made, but it's certainly the best Dragonball Z one, and the sum of its parts are greater than the sloppy wet thud of the third reel.
The Short Version? Lethal Weapon Mark VI What Is It? Super-Hero Flick. Who Is In It? The American Sherlock Holmes, Marty Kaan, Mahatma Gandhi, Peter Weyland and Holly Holliday Should I See It? Maybe
Following up on both the previousinstallments and Marvel's The Avengers, Tony Stark is trying to get on with domestic life alongside Pepper Potts while suffering through panic attacks related to the alien invasion of New York. An international terrorist known only as The Mandarin runs afoul of Iron Man, and then things get a bit twisted up.
Iron Man 3 is clearly the worst film of the series to date. That doesn't make it a bad movie, as evidenced by the near-universally orgasmic reviews I've read. It's just not as good as you've heard, and I think once the afterglow wears off, folks will find that it's quite a bit less than its predecessors in the staying power department.
I've been a fan of Robert Downey Jr. for decades, but there was a ten year span or so there where a season on Ally McBeal would be considered a period highlight. 2005's Kiss Kiss Bang Bang was a career game changer, in which Downey was not only at his best, but co-star Val Kilmer and writer/director Shane Black were right there with them. Downey continued rebuilding, and landing the lead in Iron Man was the result. In the five years since, we've seen a lot of the guy, but his schtick has devolved through public repetition into the sort of self-satisfied lazy smugness that recalls early '90s Eddie Murphy. Seemingly in response to this, Iron Man 3 tries to take Downey back to the scrappy down-on-his-luck hooligan Harry Lockhart with Shane Black in tow. What it does instead is recall a modern masterpiece during more pedestrian fare where the needs of keeping Robert Downey Jr. happy are now paramount, rather than his ability to serve the role of Tony Stark.
Jon Favreau faced an awful lot of undue criticism for his second directorial turn on Iron Man, and when he was denied The Avengers, he quit the franchise to do Cowboys & Aliens. Favreau seems to have been eating his feelings since, with a visible bloat as he offers a guest turn in a series he used to run. He has even less screen time in his ongoing cameos as bodyguard Happy Hogan than before, and despite seeming to be intended to serve as a motivating factor for Tony in the new film, I'd forgotten all about the character until the film's coda. Pepper Potts was similarly sidelined, turning up in a few early scenes and then dropping out for most of the flick until the big resolution. The presence I did miss throughout the film was Jon Favreau as the director, and one of my first complaints about replacement Shane Black was the obligatory early nods then dispatching of the characters Favreau found necessary in his films.
Ben Kingsley is a gas as the Mandarin for his relatively slight screen time, but his development seemed driven more by an avoidance of the complications Fu Manchu with power rings presented than true innovation. Guy Pearce has two notes as Aldrich Killian, but no power chords. I saw potential in Rebecca Hall as Maya Hansen, vaguely recalling Madeleine Stowe in her glory days, but the role deflates rapidly. James Badge Dale and Stephanie Szostak chew some mean scenery, but they're just muscle. When Ty Simpkins as the adorable boy helper outshines William Sadler and Miguel Ferrer, you've wasted their talents on throwaway parts.
Gone is the cock rock of AC/DC and the punk tunes that helped define Tony Stark, replaced by forgettable tracks and score. No ostentatious displays of wealth and power. No shameless flirtation with gorgeous ladies. Forget about convincing technobabble once you apply anime logic to the Iron Man armor or have Tony Stark bypasses Radio Shack for Home Depot while in dire straits for equipment needs. There's now a kid sidekick, and the genius that invented an arc reactor out of scraps in a cave decides to become a hoodie ninja with gadgets Data from Goonies would have smirked at. The lead character offers omniscient narration that's pointless until the stinger. The one established character with a meaningful presence is Colonel James Rhodes, played by Don Cheadle, who replaced Terrence Howard in the role. Rhodey is essential to recreating the black/white buddy cop aesthetic of Lethal Weapon, The Last Boy Scout, and The Long Kiss Goodnight, all written by Shane Black. In fact, the whole movie feels like a greatest hits collection of Black's other movie moments. Of course there's a torture scene. Of course it's set during Christmas. Of course the finale takes place on an abandoned oil platform at night, which is totally different than the abandoned dock yard in Lethal Weapon 2. Again, I'm a fan, but that makes the constant regurgitation that much more tiresome.
Listen, I'm not a pseudonym for Armond White. There's plenty of dumb fun to be had with this roller coaster, and the over-the-top action is very much of the flavor one would hope from a comic book adaptation. The story logic is appalling, but there's kicks to be had with your brain switch in the "off" position. I'd probably be more positive if this was a spin-off War Machine movie, but as the seemingly final installment of an unplanned trilogy? Not so much. It feels set apart from the first two movies, and rushes through massive aspects of closure at the end in a jarring yet perfunctory fashion. For all it gets right, overall the film feels wrong as a sequel to the Favreau efforts. Ultimately, what it serves to prove is that perhaps the franchise not only could survive the departure of the increasingly expensive Robert Downey Jr., but perhaps should at this point, since much of his spirit and that of the enterprise has left the building.
The Short Version? The Death and Return of Superman: Abridged Edition What Is It? Direct to DVD animated feature. Who Is In It? Jayne Cobb, Ellen's ex, Spike, Should I See It? Maybe.
I didn't really like the '90s Batman and Superman animated series at first. I could see the growing pains play out on the screen, and it took a little while for each show to find its way. You would think that with the involvement of Bruce Timm as co-writer and co-director, Superman: Doomsday would benefit from his decades of experience in DC animation to come out of the gate strong for the first in the company's series of direct-to-DVD movies. Unfortunately, it seems like Timm and company went so far out of their way to make this something different, they failed to trust their proven instincts. Superman: Doomsday feels like a lengthy accumulation of meditated missteps.
A pre-title sequence featuring limited animation inserts a heavily revised Lex Luthor dead center in the Doomsday story. Personally, I'm a big Luthor fan, but I find it fatiguing that filmmakers always seem to feel the need to include him in every major Superman story. Luthor has taken to wearing an all white suit and has a more angular design, but it still adds up to a silly looking throwback to '60s spy movie villains, and I'm talking the off-brand stuff like Matt Helm and Derek Flint. You halfway expect Luthor to demand "one million dollars" for the life of the Man of Steel. James Marsters is the voice actor, and while his tone is haughty enough, it feels rather thin with Clancy Brown still fresh in mind. There were a few times when Lex was speaking from off screen that I didn't confidently recognize him. The title sequence is a snooze, trying to evoke Superman: The Motion Picture, but with generic hero music and bland visuals.
The movie opens at the Daily Planet, and while the new Perry White design is mediocre, Ray Wise provides solid vocals. The Lois Lane design isn't too bad, although she has a weird pointed cleft chin. Anne Heche's vocals are unacceptable, though. She seems to be trying to push an East Coast accent, but it comes out as a sort of nasal quacking that makes you want to tune her out like the tuba that was Charlie Brown's teacher. Heche and Marsters both break a cardinal rule of voice acting in their occasional failure to enunciate. Whole sentences will sometimes run together. Voice acting is like radio, in that clarity is king, so you should never require subtitles.
Clark Kent appears for all of one scene with strategically tussled hair, but any bid for cool is undermined by the framed picture of Ma on his desk and a general air of lameness. Not that the eyeglasses disguise has ever been easy to sell, but the redesigned Superman is so dissimilar from every other character present, the conceit is glaringly obvious. I figure I dropped that Charles Schultz reference earlier because Superman looks like one of his dashed out scribbles, appearing deep into middle age. Both identities have Adam Baldwin dialing up the nerd, so prepare for a first act full of the Clark of Steel. He deepens later, thankfully. Jimmy Olsen is in this thing too, with former child star Adam Wylie, which works as well as Jimmy Olsen can work.
Rather than crash landing from space, Doomsday turned out to be buried deep in the earth, excavated by a Lexcorp project. There's an extremely painful scene where two workers rattle off thinly disguised exposition and awful "jokes." Lex himself had just cured muscular distrophy, and already had worked out AIDS and bird flu, but intentionally stalled usage to maximize profits. You have to figure Timm's team had been sitting on that premise for twenty years, back when it might have been less moldy, and finally released the stinker to take advantage of the PG-13 rating. Superman was working on a cure for cancer, but couldn't quite pull it off, just so's y'know he's smart, too. Once again, there was lengthy speechifying on the matter, and it makes my teeth hurt. Superman's altruism is kind of kneecapped by the dick move of sexing Lois at the Fortress of Solitude while still refusing to cop to being Clark, which of course she already knows.
Doomsday is one of the things the movie gets right. Although I missed the slow progression from his being mummified and chained to the full boney badass, Doomsday is swift and lethal to a frightening degree. Killing squads of army men doesn't quite sell the menace though, so I wish the film had either brought in an existing team of D-list DC heroes as cannon fodder, or allowed Doomsday to kill the hell out of some analogues. It seems like this is a universe without any other super-heroes, which underscores another problem with the adaptation. Without super-heroes, you have no "Reign of the Supermen," which vastly limits the scope of the original mega arc. There's also a lack of variety in the Doomsday fight, so it's just a long sequence of Superman and Doomsday punching blood out of each other until they both die. Superman's actual death sequence is labored without being effective. Anne Heche and Swoosie "Ma Kent" Kurtz's crying over Superman's body is hilariously atrocious. Later, the two women meet up to mourn, and neither come out looking too great there, either.
With Superman dead, the entire city tries to make up for the loss of Superdickery. Perry White starts drinking, Jimmy Olsen sells out to a gossip rag, crime spikes, and super-creeps like the least imaginative Toyman ever start killing children. Worst of all, Kevin Smith hits town to supply an in-joke. Everything is terrible, which goes to show that Superman's entire supporting cast sucks because they so readily go to seed just to make the Man of Steel look as important as possible. Particularly sad is when Lois, who just had not been carrying her weight as much as needed in this production, guides Lex into traffic to try to make up for it. When Luthor gets jobbed by anyone less than a Phantom Zone criminal, you know your script needs another revision.
The best part of the movie is a vestigial element from "Reign," a variation on the Eradicator that is much more entertaining than the one in the comics. That, and the return of the Mullet of Steel, especially when it rests like a crown on Superman's head as he lifts weights in a speedo. Where there's a good Superman and a bad Superman, there's a by-the-numbers resolution, complete with a forced cycling of themes from the start of the movie. I thought we might at least get a team-up to battle a resurrected Doomsday, given the dang movie title, but whoops-- outtatime. It's nice that such attempts at structure were made, but the movie fails both technically and spiritually. Things happen too quickly, are addressed too broadly, and resolved through contrivance. This movie is as cynical and shoddy as people feared the source material might have been in the '90s, before the care and craft of those creative teams proved the naysayers wrong.
Extras?
Disc One:
Requiem and Rebirth: Superman Lives! A fantastic 40-odd minute documentary about the Doomsday/World Without A Superman/Reign of the Supermen epic comic story from the early '90s. Creators, editors, publishers, fans-- everybody gets their say. Wizard Magazine chimes in, and in their glorious tradition, their representative manages to offer easily corrected misinformation (Marv Wolfman and Jerry Ordway did Adventures of Superman.) There's even archival footage from the original story meeting. Not only is this the best reason to buy the DVD, but I have to confess, I actually teared up at one part. Affective storytelling like that was glaringly absent from the cartoon.
Justice League: The New Frontier: Original Animated Movie: First Look I think this was on the movie's own disc. Everybody loved the source material and one another and everything's great and yay.
Behind The Voice A brief look at the recording of the voice actors. Most of these actors are ageless, so the visuals aren't necessary, and they have nothing interesting to say.
Commentary by Bruce Timm, Lauren Montgomery, Brandon Vietti, Duane Capizzi, Andrea Romano, and Gregory Noveck All that stuff I complained about, they applaud themselves for. At least with that many interested parties, there are no lulls.
Superman's Last Stand A button mashing cartoon game recalling the old Don Bluth numbers from the '80s. The animation really slows things down and gets repetitive, so I blew it off at level three.
Trailors Batman: Gotham Knight and Appleseed: Ex Machina.
Disc Two:
When Heroes Die: The Making of Superman: Doomsday This one is too long and talky, trying to build up the story through testimonials from followers Jung and Campbell and junk. Very repetitive, like the staff were coached beforehand.
The Clash of the Juggernauts This one was tighter and more comic-centric.
Bruce Timm's Top Picks Four popular episodes of Superman: The Animated Series "Mxyzpilated" was probably the best story to feature Mister Mxyzptlk in my experience, while simultaneously insuring you never want more, thanks to the highly specific voice casting and the basic nature of the villain's narrative. "Brave New Metropolis" is yet another instance of the Timmverse embracing the Mirror Universe, and possibly the worst. In a parallel universe where all things appear equal until its Lois Lane is murdered, Superman really comes across as an asshole when that's enough for him to turn into a fascist while partnering with Lex Luthor and turning a blind eye to their impact on society. It's an excellent example of why Superman is such a hard sell in modern times compared to Batman-- because the people responsible for his adaptations either don't understand him or readily sell him out. "Apokolips... Now!" makes for a solid two parter, but the Fourth World Saga still seems to get short shrift. Terrible Turpin's story is fantastic, though.
Wonder Woman Sneak Peek Does a good job of pushing the heroine, and reminds me of what idiots the naysayers are who don't think the Amazing Amazon needs/deserves her own live action motion picture.
The Short Version? Darker, but full of S. What Is It? Indie drama with some sci-fi/horror elements. Who Is In It? Lilo, Sol Star, Nomi Malone Should I See It? Maybe.
As of today, I still haven't reviewed Donnie Darko for this blog because of my ambivalence towards it. I rented it a few weeks after it turned up on the new release rack at the ratty local video store without any foreknowledge, drawn to the intriguing cover art and cast. I was fascinated by it, seeking out answers to the many questions it posed. I evangelized for it in the early years, and still have a framed poster up on my wall. However, the more I learned about the picture, the more it tainted my enjoyment. It went from the puzzling little flick no one had heard of to enough of a favorite of the Hot Topic crowd that Gary Jules' cover of "Mad World" got radio play. The film's official website and commentary track contradicted my personal interpretation of the movie. The Director's Cut proved that George Lucas isn't the only creator oblivious to why his movie resonated with audiences. Richard Kelly's follow-up film Southland Tales was a debacle, his script for Domino was shitty, and I never even bothered with The Box. I'm sure I've sat through Donnie Darko into the double digits, and virtually no film could survive that much analysis by a hypercritical asshole like me in just barely a decade.
On the plus side, I approached S. Darko with a relatively open mind, rather than as the gutting of a sacred cow. This is after all a sequel disavowed by all but one party involved with the original production, arriving direct to DVD eight years later. One should probably lower ones expectations, given the optimism necessary to walk in with the hope this thing would be bearable, much less any good. S. Darko is, in fact, any good. Not great, not even good, but decent enough to not shame the original or be any sort of trial for the viewer. Like most DTV sequels, S. Darko reverse engineers Donnie Darko, then attempts to rebuild it with sufficient enough differences to appear to be something new. Screenwriter Nathan Atkins clearly has love for the original, but no actual insights into it, or interesting tangents to spin off from it. Instead, he just redresses it in the clothing of a bumfuck noir with a bit of Run, Lola, Run spliced in.
A text scroll in a cursive font straight from some store bought editing software announced that this film would take place seven years after the first. Tough to tell, because aside from a gender change and severe lack of Echo & The Bunnymen, the films open exactly the same. Like fifty quintillion other movies, a road trip through the desert leads to a steaming radiator and folks getting stranded in a small town. Donnie Darko was a troubled youth too smart for his own good with geeky friends and a quirky relationship with his family. Younger sister Samantha Darko is a sort of hippy pixie blank with a bitchy, semi-slutty best friend, the sort of odd couple rarely seen outside of movies, in a very movie setting, written by a man who has likely seen more movies than life. Where Donnie Darko bathed in its period setting, S. Darko offers obligatory nods through references to O.J. and a few unfortunate fashion choices. Donnie had a killer mixtape soundtrack with an equally affecting score. This was one area where S. at least tries, with a solid if repetitive score by Ed Harcourt. After a lackluster source track or two, I started thinking of some period singles minor enough to be affordable, and was pleased when I nailed Whale's "Hobo Humpin Slobo Babe." The new stab at The Church was Catharine Wheel, reasonably enough. The cinematography is pretty nice, as well.
Daveigh Chase as Samantha Darko is very pretty, looks creepy in make-up during some green screen sequences, and I suppose does what she can with the character. Briana Evigan is wonderful at channeling the shitty add-on characters in '90s sequels to horror franchises, recalling Rocky in Phantasm III, Julie Walker in Return of the Living Dead 3, and the filmography of Kelly Jo Minter. I seriously mean that as a compliment, because the daughter of B.J. of "the Bear" fame looks hot in short shorts, plays her character type pitch perfect, and is the most legitimate '90s element. The biggest names in the supporting cast include a commendable if minor performance from John Hawkes and a sound Elizabeth Berkley. Not a single character has a fraction of the life of those featured in Donnie, they're all stock taken wholesale from other films, and their stories aren't layered throughout the plot so much as globs of undissolved packaged mix. It's hard to tell if the acting is terrible, or the characters are horrendous on the page, but it's usually a bit of both.
In commentary, the creators tried to lay claim to intentional incomprehensibility. Since they recycle so much from Donnie Darko, if you halfway figured out one, it explains the other. Since the characters are so obvious, the perceived bad guys are, the perceived good-hearted crazies are, and the "left field" turns of a few characters come with a GPS. There are no mysteries here, because your first impressions should bear out. Rather than perplexing, it's plodding, because you're waiting for these nothing characters to get to places you saw coming immediately.
You may get a sense of great disappointment or anger from this review, but neither is true. The film is samey samey, like an album by an okay band full of rewrites of other band's hits. Dido's "Don't Think of Me" isn't Alanis Morissette's "You Oughta Know," but I don't mind listening to it. If you really, really loved Donnie Darko, and it isn't enough to watch other mindfuck pictures-- you need something approaching a carbon copy, S. Darko might be just the tribute bar band for you. That, or you'll shave your hair into a mohawk and roam the studio grounds with an assault rifle.
Extras?
The Making of S. Darko This is great! Fifteen minutes of filmmakers trying to make themselves believe that this was more than a naked classless cash grab, all while produced by "Darko 2 LLC." Vindication through the actress behind the least interesting, most sold-out member of the Darko clan agreeing to reprise her role. Another highlight includes pointing out that "The Director's Cut" sucked, too. Plus, profuse apologizing and hand wringing toward Richard Kelly and his fans.
Commentary with Director Chris Fisher, Writer Nathan Atkins, and Cinematographer Marvin V. Rush Less defensive than the "making of" doc, but still refreshingly candid/deluded. How many direct homages do you need in a movie that is already wholly dependent in style and substance on another movie? Considering some of the best things about this movie were source tracks from Dead Can Dance and Cocteau Twins, don't slag on the music of '95 just because you can't afford 1988 Duran Duran.
Utah Too Much Behind the scenes and a music video for a surprisingly alright country novelty tune.
Deleted Scenes You don't tend to have a lot of material left on the floor in a four million dollar production, so these are brief and few. The cuts are understandable, but more because they belabor points made elsewhere in the film, rather than any deficit of quality in comparison to the rest of the flick.
S. Darko Trailer and additional random trailers, although Notorious featuring the rap sampling of Sparkle Motion's signature song is tres apropos.
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