Batman investigated a break-in at a lawyer's office. The Dark Knight found Maxine Kelly, private investigator, checking a file on William Sanders. Batman allowed Kelly to leave, following her to her loft. Maxine Kelly in turn caught Batman trespassing in her home, going through a file on her current case.
William Sanders had been arrested in relation to the abduction of the then-three year old Josh Winston seven years prior. Sanders was acquitted and relocated by the F.B.I. After years and a dozen inadequate dicks, the former Mrs. Sanders' health had deteriorated.
Reminded of his deceased ward Jason Todd, Batman broke into the Federal Building to further the investigation. The Caped Crusader learned William Sanders' whereabouts after fighting through a phalanx of federales. Batman spent three days staring at coded information before calling on Commissioner Gordon, who refused any help on the matter. After another three days, Batman confronted William Sanders in a church, learning he had spent six years studying at seminary before becoming a priest.
Looking through old photographs, the Dark Knight Detective found a shot of a woman staring at Josh. This stalker checked out as a mother whose own child had been abducted, and Batman soon learned she'd claimed Josh as a replacement. Batman found Josh, who was taken to meet the true mother he never knew, Tina Winston, before she died.
Yo Ren, you're ready to go get this move? [Believe that, boy] You're strapped? [Yeah, you know it] Let's go do this, man, I got it all planned out [Yeah, shoot any motherfucker that moves]
*pow* ["Alright everybody..."]
This is a stick-up, everybody get face-down Ren, gag their mouths so they can't make a sound Tie em up for the fact that I'm kickin ass I got my hand on my gat, and I'm tempted to blast My name is Eazy, but I go the hard way out This ain't personal, but now I'm about to commit a crime and go thru with it You know what, no need for shakin, because I'm used to it Take out the security guard with a slap of my hand Yeah, he's wearin' a badge, but he's a old ass man Pump his ass in the head, and take his gun so me and the punk can go one on one Cover the lens on the TV screen you know, so me and my gang just can't be seen Lock the doors, and throw away the key Close the blinds, so no muthafuckas could see and smile, you know, cause I'm controllin the shit and no sucker ass nigga's gonna stop the hit Wardrobes and locs, and a Ruthless shirt That means I'm ready to work, and rush a fool to the dirt, so
[Alright, anybody move and I'll blow yo fuckin head off]
Allright... Empty your pockets, but do it slow Take everything you got and lay it on the fuckin floor Don't make me have to set an example today and blow one of you crazy muthafuckas away I'm in a bank, and it's a little bit funny takin all you stupid muthafucka's money Peepin at a bitch cause my dick's on hard Laughin at the dumb ass security guard who's tied up for the moment, not sayin' a word I should have known it before, the muthafucka's a nerd But back to the bitches I'm peepin and then untie the hoe, so I can start creepin Took her to the backroom, about to jack Cold trailed the bitch, with a gun in the back I said: "Lay down, and unbutton your bra!" There was the biggest titties that a nigga ever saw I said: "Damn", then the air got thinner Only thought in my mind, was goin' up in her The suspense was makin' me sick She took her panties down and the bitch had a dick! I said: "Damn", dropped the gat from my hand [What I thought was a bitch, was nothing but a man] Put the gat to his legs, all the way up his skirt because this is one faggot that I had to hurt, so
[Chorus]
[I said get down. I want you all face-down on the floor Anybody moves and I shoot]
Stackin up the money and there's more to collect cause I don't give a fuck, I take traveler's checks Yo, Ren, peep out the window, and tell me what you see [Three muthafuckin police starin at me; what to do now?] Hurry up and get on Alright, tell me, who is the muthafuckin alarm? I'm a give ya a chance, and count to three or else five of ya bitches are comin with me [Police: Alright, Alright, come out niggers, or we're coming in This is the only chance to turn yourself in] Fuck you! We got hostages, and plenty of loot and don't give a damn and not afraid to shoot We're sendin out the hostages, all except five and if you don't meet our demands, they won't stay alive We want a copter, so we can get away clean and take some pussy along, if you know what I mean One hostage got brave, and got off the floor but I smoked his ass before he got to the door [Police: They shot a hostage, they shot a hostage!] [MC Ren: You're a stupid muthafucka tryin' to run now ya dead as fuck tryin' to race a gun] [Police: Alright, this is the last chance to get off your ass or else the tear gas is about to blast] I ran to the back and Ren followed behind to a hell of a spot that was hard to find The bank was fucked up, the shit was smokin with screamin hostages, runnin and chokin Gettin away, but I was suddenly stopped at point blank range, by a muthafuckin cop And I hope they don't think that a lesson was taught cause a nigga like the E was finally caught My gat wouldn't fire, the shit wouldn't work So, y'all know what time it is
Chorus
[Gangster: Well I'm giving you five seconds to let us thru the gate or I'm gonna shoot two of your guards]
[Hehe, they got me once, but they'll never get me again]
"Zephyr & I": I like the upbeat, reflective lyrics, but the generic up-tempo musical accompaniment irritates me. The breakdown seems pointless, and this generally feels like a bland opener.
"Ludlow Street": This one has the exact opposite problem. The arrangement is both subdued and propulsive, a solid combination, with a nice breakdown. Unfortunately, the inane and repetitive lyrics, especially the saccharine chorus, fouls things up.
"New York Is A Woman": Now there's the incisive songwriter I love. The lyrics paint a vivid picture, and the instruments don't get in her way. I especially liked the horns that open the song, highlight the odd section, and serve as the breakdown.
"Pornographer's Dream": This one sounds like it could have come off one of my favorite Vega albums, the jazzy Nine Objects of Desire. So much so, if I had a time machine, I'd recommend swapping out one of the few weak cuts. It's easy to love a tune that evokes Bettie Page by both name and feel.
"Frank & Ava": As in Sinatra and Gardner, continuing the '50s theme. Vega is more verbally playful than usual, making me wish the verbal callback in the chorus had been given more punch. Almost a cynical reply to "Ludlow Street."
"Edith Wharton's Figurines": As usual, Vega is at her best while telling a story, but this one is detailed to the point you really get the sense of poetry that incidentally has been set to music. Not that the instrumentation is in any way flawed, especially the bass drum accent.
"Bound": The first song to recall the Mitchell Froom years, my best loved period. Dark lyrics with symphonic accompaniment and electronic touches. Strong, searching number.
"Unbound": Continuing from the previous, this one keeps the strings, but with greater techno noodling, heavy guitar, and quicksilver tempo.
"As You Are Now": At this point, the album begins to feel like a retrospective, working backward from the too-precious moments of Songs in Red and Gray to the folk-pop of her early albums. A heartfelt dedication to Vega's daughter, with a strong orchestral swell in between more intimate guitars.
"Angel's Doorway": Intriguing lyrics let down by entirely inappropriate, misleading music. This one is about a police officer working at ground zero being asked by his wife to leave his sullied uniform outside.
"Anniversary": Another 9/11 song, closing out the album somewhere around Days of Open Hand. It's perhaps a bit too soft, but perhaps the gentility is itself a response to the circumstance. Strong lyrics, and I love the choral hum.
There is nothing wrong with your internet. Do not attempt to adjust the musical selection. We are controlling transmission. If we wish to make it louder, we will bring up the volume. If we wish to make it softer, we will tune it to a whisper. We will control the artists. We will control the decade. We can roll the selection, make it unfamiliar. We can change the focus from Merle Haggard to Vandals to Crystal Method. For the next video clip, sit quietly and we will control all that you see and hear. We repeat: there is nothing wrong with your internet connection. You are about to participate in a sonic adventure. You are about to experience the awe and mystery which reaches from the inner ear to... the nurghophonic jukebox.
Ze Greatest Songs Of Mein Time
A progressive "greatest hits" compilation of all the music I love...
The Short Version? I too am an astronaut stranded alone on a planet run by apes! What Is It? Science Fiction. Who Is In It? James Franciscus, Charlton Heston, Nova, Zira, Dr. Zaius, a recast Cornelius Should I See It? No.
The original Planet of the Apes was a brilliant blend of sci-fi and social satire. Beneath was its first sequel, and to some extent, its first remake. The film so slavishly tries to recreate and retread the same ground as its predecessor, while so completely failing to understand what worked in the first place, you'd think Tim Burton directed it as a boy. In fact, Burton's awful remake of 2001 resembles Beneath as much if not more than the 1968 version, a damning association for both parties.
The film opens with an abbreviated version of the first film's final minutes, then extends the action. The timelost and stranded astronaut Taylor (Heston) has learned this planet of intelligent apes out to kill him was in fact his home all along, terrifically altered by nuclear holocaust. He escapes capture with his mute native love interest Nova (Linda Harrison) into the desolate Forbidden Zone, where the pair are subjected to special effects that were crude and obvious even for their time. Meanwhile, another astronaut, Brent (Franciscus,) crash landed while on a mission in search of Taylor's missing exploratory party. Taylor's now missing-er, and Nova's still dumb, so she guides Brent through a Cliff's Notes version of Taylor's journey in the seminal Planet. By design, Franciscus was a younger, tighter, prettier, and stupider version of Heston's Taylor, which extends to the production itself. After Brent's had all the obligatory run-ins with all the major characters Taylor faced, and goes through most of the same paces, he picks up where Taylor left off in the Forbidden Zone. This is accomplished through as many contrivances as possible. Finally, Brent locates Taylor, and the pair band together against the damned dirty apes and the new menace of telepathic mutated humans. Things do not go well for anyone involved, especially the audience.
Beneath the Planet of the Apes was among the first creatively bankrupt cash-in summer blockbuster sequels, and is a particularly rank example of the genre. Charlton Heston pretty much appeared in his cameo as a favor to the producer, with the stipulation he would never do so again. James Franciscus does his best to recreate Heston's performance style, but the script gives him nothing meaningful to work with except displaying surprisingly toned abs for the era. Kim Hunter's reprising of her role as Zira is one of the few high points in the film, while David Watson doesn't draw too much attention that he's not Roddy McDowall as Cornelius. Linda Harrison's primary role in the first film was to look exceptionally hot, but her slight acting abilities can't carry her extended screen time, and she's often shot from unflattering angles besides. Maurice Evans was once again perfect as Dr. Zaius, but James Gregory was laughably miscast as the gorilla general Ursus.
Director Franklin J. Schaffner was replaced by Ted Post, a TV veteran. The look of the movie suffered as a result-- a very pedestrian directorial style filled with small screen cliches. Most of the action and sets were right out of a low rent western, one of Post's specialties. The music by Leonard Rosenman was a pale imitation of Jerry Goldsmith, and the sound design itself was downright irritating at times. Sets were noticeably minimized, with nondescript hills and sparse greenery substituting for the forests, corn fields, cliffs and waterfalls of the first film. The production budget was about half the original's, so everything was lower rent, including award-winning ape make-up often replaced with cheap pull-over masks and generic gorilla suits. A scene of a sauna involving a "nude" Dr. Zaius and General Ursus was ill-considered on every level for this reason.
Worst of all, Paul Dehn and Mort Abrahams' screenplay takes all the clever and insightful social commentary of Planet and regurgitates it in the most ham-fisted manner possible. With its chimpanzee conscientious objectors and its church of nuke-worshiping mutants, they try for Dr. Strangelove and hit What's Up, Tiger Lily? instead. The script turns left at every right, plot holes abound, and motivation is slight. The screenplay should be used as a teaching aid on what not to do in the field.
This whole debacle is the very definition of ridiculous. Just to be sure though, Charlton Heston turns in one of the hammiest performances of his career as part of the surprisingly grim and violent finale-- right up to one of the silliest, most self-important anti-climaxes in science fiction history. Of sole consolation is that the closing bloodbath insures all the guilty parties an appropriately brutal demise.
Written By: Bill Ador Released: 1972 Album: Jungle Fever Single?: Reached #8 on Billboard
The Chakachas were Latin soul studio musicians out of Belgium whose string of charting European singles began in the late 1950s. However, in the States they're generally regarded as one hit wonders from this funk hit.
While this image was taken from the 1994 Comic Images card set Boris 4, I believe the art was intended for the great 1977 flick The Gauntlet. The card back reads:
This piece was done as a finished sketch for a Clint Eastwood film. The painting never saw the final stage, a fairly frequent occurrence when dealing with the movie industry.
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