This Is 40

2012 comedy

Rating: 13/20 (Jen: 16/20)

Plot: Pete and Debbie reach the titular age and deal with problems with finances, their sex lives, their parents, and their businesses.

What are people's opinions on Megan Fox? Does she have some degree of likability? I haven't seen a lot of Megan Fox movies--Transformers where I barely noticed her because it made my head hurt and Jonah Hex which I didn't like--but I almost always like when she's on the screen, and I know my wife has the hots for her. Is the consensus pretty much that she's hired for her shape? I like a lot of the talent in this. Apatow's wife (Leslie Mann) looks better than she sounds (didn't care for her voice) and has good chemistry with Paul Rudd. I always sort of like Rudd, despite the size of that chin of his. Apatow's daughters play their daughters. Albert Brooks and John Lithgow play the dads, the latter still looking a little confused from that Planet of the Apes thing. Apatow-regulars Segal and Melissa McCarthy and Chris O'Dowd are all funny in these, I'm guessing, largely-improvised scenes. Or at least they're based on improvisation. The humor does have a spontaneity to it that I like even though these comedians' streams-of-conscious too-often take them right to the scatological or genital to get laughs. Best of all might be Graham Parker playing himself, and I don't believe he makes a single dick joke. The problem with this movie is that there's way too much story. I like the relationship of the leads and their struggles to work through things even though things frequently got uncomfortable. But this movie's plot was the perfect storm of crappiness, and it was a lot to juggle, both for the storytellers and the audience. I guess that's why the movie had to be over two hours long, likely too long for a comedy like this. After a while, you're checking your watch as much as you're laughing. I really think about half of the subplots could have been dumped without making a difference, and that might be a clue that they're completely unnecessary. An editor was probably needed. That or somebody needed to finish the script. I was also a little annoyed at all the contemporary allusions, a thing I generally hate in movies because it pretty much ensures that people won't be interested in them in twenty or twenty-five years. I will say that my biggest laugh might have been the mention of John Goodman's name, however. This is funny enough and has a lot of recognizable situations for a nearly-40-year-old married guy like me to be worth watching, but it's unfortunately just way too long with far too many cheap laughs.

John Dies at the End

2012 horror comedy

Rating: 12/20

Plot: A pair of slackers get involved with a drug called "soy sauce" which causes them to drift between two dimensions. They have to save their world from something named Korrok.

What a mess! It's almost a delightful mess, but it's unfortunately just a little too much. I applaud its creative spirit and unique vision. The story and director Don Coscarelli take chances, but the budget's neither tiny enough or large enough to make it work and this desire to be 21st Century and hip gets old after the first, mostly fresh, twenty minutes or so. A lot of me wants to just appreciate the craziness of all this--animated meat that seem straight from Jan Svankmajer, a dog driving a truck, insects that would make Cronenberg giggle, exploding Robert Marleys, a creepster who'd be right at home in a David Lynch movie putting some giant insect thing down a guy's shirt, a punk song about a "Camel Holocaust," bare-breasted people from another dimension, and Paul Giamatti. The movie seems to get more coherent as it goes, but when you really think about it, it's just a movie that is pretending to be coherent and not doing a very good job at it. It also gets more and more frustrating as it goes, building to something that is so poorly realized with computer effects that you end up caring about what happens less than you care about the characters. And you didn't really care about any of that unlikable lot anyway with the exception of a dog. There's enough here to probably make this a cult classic, but I can't think of any reason why I would watch it again. Cool poster though.

Is There Sex After Death?

1971 sex comedy

Rating: 14/20

Plot: Dr. Rogers from the Bureau of Sexological Investigation roams about in the Sexmobile and interviews experts in sexual matters, talks to everyday people on the streets, and visits key sites to answer the titular question and others.

Prankster Alan Abel and his wife created this now-dated look at sexuality. It's funny forty-some years later, but after a while, it gets a little tedious. There are plenty of naked people, but if this makes any points at all, it makes them early. The wad is shot, so to speak, and then it keeps going. Abel himself plays the roving reporter and does it as a sort-of straight man. It's amazing that he keeps his composure while sitting so close to so many naked people or hearing an actor say, "For the vegetable, it was exquisite," or a "Professor of Dildography" talk about "millions of miles of unused orifice," or an x-rated magician ask, "Is that not your urine sample?" or an expert claiming that "you'd be up to your ass in dwarfs" if one of eight didn't die during sexual intercourse. In between all that, Abel takes us to a sex Olympics, a nudist colony where they sing "Dinah Won't You Blow Your Horn" and later dance in a way that makes nudity seem like a pretty terrible invention, a perverse art gallery, and a pornographic opera. Oh, and there's a brief penis puppet show. Robert Downey Sr. makes a pair of appearances, but he's nowhere as entertaining as Earle Doud who plays the x-rated magician or Marshall Efron who plays Vince Domino, the "master of filth and excretion" who talks about making a pornographic film with a goose and a donkey. This is nothing revolutionary, some bits fall completely flat, and it's not always even all that much fun, but it's an interesting enough little time capsule item nevertheless.

Shane Watches a Bad Movie on Facebook with Friends: Surf Nazis Must Die!

1987 surf nazi movie

Rating: 7/20 (Fred: 12/20; Libby: 12/20; Carrie: 6.5/20; Josh: did not rate)

Plot: Gangs struggle for control of beach territories following an earthquake. The titular Nazis kill the wrong old lady's son, and she decides it's time to take the Nazis out, just as surfing Hitler realizes his dream of being "Fuhrer of the whole beach."

We went with Troma for our Sunday night bad movie viewing "pleasure," and although it's got a great title, some ridiculous characters, and a sex scene that involves what I'll describe as butt gnawing, this isn't one of their better efforts. In fact, there was really only a little bit of effort involved, I think. First, I want to point out that that poster is a little misleading. You don't get to see any surf-sawing action. There's some violence, but there's not all that excitement, and aside from an only slightly-doughy throat cut, a decapitation, and a scene where a boat splits open a Nazi noggin, it doesn't have quite the gross-out buffoonery of other Troma classics. It does have some of their typically great writing though. ("Slime-sucking neanderthals." "Take the head off a honky at 20 paces.") Peter George directed this, and he's only got one other film to his name--an adaptation of Nathaniel Hawthorne's short story "Young Goodman Brown." That doesn't seem quite right to me. The characters are interesting enough that this movie really could have been a lot better. My friends and I liked the grandmother, played by Gail Neely who was in a Naked Gun sequel, Earth Girls Are Easy, and a bunch of Philips Milk of Magnesia commercials. Hitler (Barry Brenner, a coroner in both Maniac Cop and Maniac Cop 2) had a disappointing mustache, but Hook and the demented Mengele were both fun characters. There's even a Clockwork Orange reference in there. Of course, there's also a ton of surfing montages and barely any plot at all, both which can be frustrating. This isn't higher echelon Troma, but there's enough in there to make fans of the company happy enough. There's also plenty for you history buffs out there! 

Weird thing I noticed: Graffiti on the wall saying, "Give a hot beer injection to a lifeless corpse." Is that a reference to something or a non sequitur?

Mars Needs Women

1967 sci-fi nonsense

Rating: 4/20

Plot: See title.

I took notes while watching this movie, but I can't read any of them:

"a short otter to cheetah"
"Martian flashlights--gnarly"
"mok lather then scientific centuries"
"hop nature/pot hypnotic states"
"That's a long chance!" "Time is short--we have to take long chances."

Ok, so I can read that last one. I'm just not sure why I wrote it down. I must have liked it. This is a film from my main man Larry Buchanan, maker of this and this and this and that. The latter is a Manos Award winner, and one of those is called Attack of the the Eye Creatures according to the title screen. This one's rated a 4/20 which makes it the best movie of his that I've ever seen. Nondescript Martians [By the way--Isn't 1967 a little late to have "Martian" movies? I'm not an expert on the history of astronomy or anything, but this is well after we knew that Mars didn't have anything living on it, right?] body snatch some women for their snatches, and nondescript heroes have to stop them. The acting conists of reading lines although Yvonne Craig is in there. So is troubled Disney actor Tommy Kirk who called this "undoubtedly one of the stupidest motion pictures ever made," apparently before he was involved with Buchanan's It's Alive. The most inspired performance is from "Bubbles" Cash who plays a stripper and one of the Martians' abductees. Blue-tinted stock footage stretches this into a feature length, as do a whole lot of scenes where people just kind of stand around and wait. My favorite bit is when the Martians have a conversation about neckties, a "male vanity" with "no practice purpose" that Martians gave up a long time ago. This movie isn't as obviously inept as Buchanan's other movies, but with silly Martian costumes, special effects that barely pass as special effects, and bad actors reading bad writing, it's worth the time for fans of crappy movies. And the extended screen time that "Bubbles" Cash gets definitely helps.

Who's the Caboose?

1997 mockumentary

Rating: 11/20

Plot: Documentarians get a grant to do a film on homeless people, but instead turn their attention to a young comedienne who is on her way to Los Angeles to try to get a television pilot.

I like Sarah Silverman. She's cute and generally funny. She's the very best thing about this--only possible exception is David Cross who is really funny and angry in a too-tiny role--which is good because she's the main character. She's so natural in front of the camera. Unfortunately, she and her character aren't in a movie where very much happens. Things approach mildly humorous, and the satirical look at Hollywood shallowness almost works. But this needs to let go a little bit, get a little more outrageous, or--at the very least--be funny. Kathy Griffin even keeps her shirt on. Andy Dick and that one guy are also in this.

And Now the Screaming Starts!

1973 horror movie

Rating: 13/20

Plot: Newlyweds are traumatized by a curse involving a ghost and a severed hand.

Why the hell don't I have a Patrick Magee tag for this blog? He plays a doctor here. Love that guy. Peter Cushing is also in this. I don't really have much use for these creepy period horror movies aside from the architecture and the wonderful cleavage. This has some nice artwork--portraits that sometimes have ghostly eyeless figures popping out of them. There's also some sideboob, severed hand strangulation, gyrating paintings, and some maddening zither. Seriously, if you're one of the oddballs who doesn't like the zither action in The Third Man, the score for this will likely annoy. There's also this great scene where a guy shows off his hands, a scene that was stretched comically. This isn't a terrible movie, but it's not one that is going to be all that memorable unless cheap-looking severed hands does it for you.

This movie is one of the rare ones with a title that both has punctuation and makes a complete sentence although starting a sentence with a coordinating conjunction would most like make the screaming start in most English classes.

Cowards Bend the Knee (or The Blue Hands)

2003 silent soap opera

Rating: 16/20

Plot: A hockey player knocks up his girlfriend and takes her for an abortion in the back room of a beauty salon. During the procedure, he falls for the daughter of the owner of the beauty salon and runs off with her. Unfortunately, she won't allow him to touch her until the death of her father is avenged. A hand transplant operation takes place, followed by murder and sex. And there are some hockey player wax figurines that come to life.

This ten-part short feature was originally intended to be shown in a museum, each six-minute chunk shown through a separate peephole. That would have been an annoying way to watch a movie. I'd predict that a lot of people would be annoyed by the style of this anyway. It's silent, but even those used to silent movies might find the strange techniques--off-putting camera angles, repetitious movements, rapid-fire movements, lengthy but hilarious title cards--a little too strange. And, of course, there's the subject matters covered in this thing, a wacky hodgepodge that could only come from the mind of Guy Maddin. Jen, who started watching this movie with me, was done when the dicks made their first appearance. In the dicks' defense, I think she was about to call it quits even before they showed up. I found it all hilarious, maybe the funniest Maddin movie I've seen. Lots to love here--hockey seizures in sperm samples, beauty salon bordellos, 5-minute breast grope attempts, a gorgeous slow procession to Beethoven's 7th, titular blue hands and warm pies, forced combing, a smoking and corset-wearing abortionist, blind grandmothers, shampoo murders, faked hand transplants, ghost whores, fisting, an ice breast, the feeding of wax hockey player figurines, a questionable check for a pulse, and an Orlacian shower butt poke. Yeah, mostly the typical ingredients for a soap opera.  And the typing of "Orlacian shower butt poke" reminds me why I watch movies in the first place. My favorite scene was one in which Maddin imagines what a late-20's sex scene's sound effects would have been like. Completely ridiculous, but it made me giggle like a fourteen-year-old with a monocle. Definitely find this if you're a Guy Maddin fan already, and it might not be the worst place to start if you want to dig into his work and have a high tolerance for weirdness.

Pete Smalls Is Dead

2010 comedy

Rating: 12/20

Plot: K.C., a former screenwriter who can't get over the tragedy of losing a loved one, owes ten thousand dollars to a loan shark who has stolen his dog. He's lured back to Los Angeles to attend the funeral of his titular deceased former colleague by another friend who promises to help him out of his financial troubles. They ride on a scooter through a muddy, convoluted mystery plot that I had trouble understanding.

I only popped this in because I wasn't able to finish I Am a Sex Addict and needed another movie with a full sentence for a title. Well, that and the Peter Dinklage, former Billy Curtis Award winner. And then look who shows up to complete my Mark Boone Junior trifecta! Mark Boone Junior, the only man who is capable of completing a Mark Boone Junior trifecta. Gosh, I really wanted to like this one, mostly because it seems like it was made for The Big Lebowski fans. Indeed, there were a few parallels--Dinklage's got Bridges' facial hair, Mark Boone Junior reminds me a bit of Goodman's character, Steve Buscemi makes an appearance in this ridiculous curly blond wig, there's a twisty and barely-or-maybe-not-even-decipherable neo-noir storyline, and a missing rug. Well, it's a dog, not a rug. That's pretty close to the same thing though. Buster Keaton also makes an appearance on a pair of postcards and a book of matches. But even though this was occasionally very funny--a panda costume heist; a funeral with bags on heads and a corpse made of marzipan; the sight of seeing Mark Boone Junior and a football-helmeted Peter Dinklage on a scooter--it's frequently more frustrating. Dinklage is really good as the straight man in this. Tim Roth and Rosie Perez, two performers who have an ability to take something already kind of messy and make an even bigger mess, are also in this. I really wanted to like this, mostly so that I could introduce it as a little sleeper to my 4 1/2 readers and be some kind of hero. Unfortunately, it just didn't work for me.

I Am a Sex Addict

2005 autobiographical comedy

Rating: n/r

Plot: Filmmaker Caveh Zahedi turns the camera on himself to examine his history as the titular sex addict.

I didn't get to finish this. I started it on Netflix Instant at about two in the morning the day that it was supposed to expire. When I tried to finish it after waking up, it was gone. It's too bad because I was enjoying the quirky style of this sorta-documentary, the staged reenactments, the playful metafilm quality, and the fun experimental tone. Also, there was going to be some more nudity. This was good enough and interesting enough that I'll start the whole thing over and try again when Netflix lets me. It's not something I'm willing to have mailed to my house though.

I hope this review was helpful.

Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid

1982 comedy

Rating: 13/20

Plot: A woman believes the death of her father, a noted scientist and cheesemaker, was murder and hires shamus Rigby Reardon for the case. He uncovers a bunch of mysterious goings-on, some which even make a little sense.

I have mixed feelings about this one because although director Carl Reiner has created it with a good understanding of the films he's spoofing and it really is a clever idea, it's just not very funny at all. The title is actually one of the funniest things about the movie, and I would definitely put this more in the "cute" or "clever" category than "hysterical." The dialogue that is created with characters from classic noir, Marlowe included, makes sense most of the time, but it just isn't funny. Aside from Bogart in, I think, three different movies, this plunders scenes from movies with shane-movies favorite Vincent Price, Charles Laughton, Cary Grant, Ingrid Bergman, Veronica Lake, Bette Davis, Alan Ladd, Barbara Stanwyck, Ray Milland, Ava Gardner, and Burt Lancaster. It's a clever idea even if none of it made me laugh. The best thing about it is how Edith Head, in what was apparently her final film, matched the costumes in this to the originals. I watched this while in the middle of a reading of Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep, and I appreciated the nod to some of the language of that, especially the oft-goofy figurative language used by that author. Of course, I got the biggest kick out of the line "Start the whoopie machine" which I'm going to now preface all of my love-making, assuming I ever have sexual intercourse again, with. I also appreciated the allusion to my birthplace of Terre Haute, Indiana. Steve Martin poked fun at Terre Haute back in the day, but I can forgive him for that. He's really good as the centerpiece for this typically confusing noirish tale. His performance has just the right mix of goof and straight, and he's got the right face and build for a noir detective.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to start the whoopie machine. (Note: I am not really about to have sexual intercourse.)

I'm a Cyborg, But That's OK

2006 quirky love story

Rating: 16/20

Plot: Cha Young-Goon's family has a history of mental problems. She becomes convinced that she is a combat robot and has to be committed. The doctors desperately try to get her to eat something, but she just wants to lick batteries and watch her toes light up. She meets a masked kleptomaniac who steals her panties and tries to trick her into eating.

There's a pair of moments in this one that touched me like nothing I've seen in any other recent romantic comedy. I can't give specifics because I wouldn't want to spoil this for any of my 4 1/2 readers, but one of them involves a cork and the other involves a door. There's another scene with a yodeling Japanese guy that also nearly made me weep. As did the line "A cat is, above all, a furry animal," a bit of dialogue that probably is funnier in context. This has a free-flowing cuckoo vibe, and people will call it a Japanese One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, a movie that some people refuse to even watch because it beat an inferior Jaws for Best Picture. The craziness is movie craziness with an asylum that wouldn't actual exist outside of the screen. You get characters with silly mental disorders probably used for comic purposes. They color the movie but don't really serve any real purpose, at least regarding the plot, until another kind of touching moment that takes place in a cafeteria. You get a guy who walks backwards, a woman who can only look at people in a mirror, and a variety of other characters humorously sick in their heads. I liked how this one was filmed, flamboyantly and with almost a French whimsy. It breezes on by, and although it's never really all that profound (it is, after all, a romantic comedy), it's a cute little story with some beautiful visuals. I might be in the minority here, but I prefer this one to Chan-wook Park's Oldboy.

I'm Gonna Explode

2008 Mexican movie

Rating: 12/20

Plot: Roman makes a joke that only Maru laughs at, so they decide to run away from home. Well, sort of. They run to the roof and camp out, sneaking down when the adults are away to snag some food.

Like Roman and Maru for the bulk of this story, this movie goes nowhere. The kids are likable-enough misfits, and there are a few cute moments that are almost funny--the Harold-[and Maude] -esque talent show performance, the camp-out right above the parents' noses. But I'm Gonna Explode is too almosty. Like a reality show with shakier camera work, this goes through a lot of the minutia without really being interesting, revealing, funny, dramatic, or really anything else. Roman and Maru are almost eccentric enough to be interesting, but they barely stand out in their own story. This is Bonnie and Clyde without any character, stuttering story lines, and with a lot less misbehaving. Well, they do it at one point. I guess religious folks would say that's worse than robbing banks or killing people, right? I just wish this one had a destination instead of just meandering and plodding in that almost intriguing way. Maybe it needed to explode?

Follow That Bird

1985 first Sesame Street movie ever!

Rating: 14/20

Plot: A nosey social worker decides that Big Bird doesn't belong with the Sesame Street gang and needs to live with his own kind. She finds a bird family to adopt him, but he gets homesick for his imaginary friend Snuffleupagus and decides to journey back home. The muppets of Sesame Street, upon hearing that Big Bird is missing from his new home, decide to venture out to search for him.

Did you know Snuffleupagus has a first name? Aloysius Snuffleupagus. Jen tells me that originally Snuffleupagus was an imaginary friend for Big Bird but that they eventually had to ditch that idea because children were confused. "Snuffleupagus" is also apparently a move similar to teabagging where you put your scrotum on somebody's nose. That doesn't happen anywhere in Follow That Bird, by the way, so it's safe to show this to your children. Here's another fun fact: Elmo's in this movie, right near the end when Big Bird comes home. He pokes his head out of a window and says something in a voice that is not the Elmo voice we know and probably despise. Anyway, the movie. Why is it a 14/20 instead of a 20/20? No Roosevelt Franklin. I haven't looked this up or anything, but I'm fairly positive mid-80's movie rules made it clear that you had to have black representation in your movies because black people weren't allowed to vote back then and couldn't be president. Forcing Hollywood to include at least one black character in each movie was the government's way of compromising. Which is a good thing because it really started the healing process after segregation and slavery and all that. The makers of Follow That Bird already had Gordon, the very realistic human muppet from the television show, in a prominent role and had no use for Roosevelt Franklin. Plus, Roosevelt Franklin had a tendency to frighten honkies anyway, and honkies were the main audience for Follow That Bird. How bitchin' would a Roosevelt Franklin movie be, by the way? Damn, my hips are moving just thinking about that. But no, the Sesame Street people are too busy with Elmo, the "idiot" who replaced Sesame Street's original "idiot" (Big Bird) and somehow became the only character who mattered anymore. Maybe it's because I didn't grow up with Elmo, but that little red monster (not to be confused with the little blue monster Grover who my brother refers to as "the mentally-challenged muppet" although if you think about it, they're all kind of mentally-challenged) has "future serial killer" written all over his fluffy little face. Where are his parents anyway? Dismembered in the basement? But I digress. You honkies want to hear about this movie. Anybody who knows me knows I'm a sucker for puppets. I really like the effects that blend these lovable characters into the world outside Sesame Street. No, they don't look realistic. They still look like puppets, but they look more natural flying planes, driving slick-looking automobiles, or using telephones than you might think. Muppet Gordon is especially great to see in such a heroic role, and a death-defying stunt involving a slow-moving truck with a cage on the back of it and a slow-moving Volkswagon Beetle has to be seen to be believed. There's a lot of music in this, much provided by the legendary Van Dyke Parks (Jungle Book songsmith, Brian Wilson cohort) and one song started off by none other than Waylon Jennings. The "Bluebird of Happiness" song and its accompanying imagery might be the most depressing thing I've seen in my entire life. I'd like to see some statistics on how many 3-6 year olds committed suicide in '85 compared to previous years. Anyway, other than the toddler suicides and veiled racism, this is fun for the whole family! Oh, and to bring things full circle: Snuffleupagus has the worst singing voice I have ever heard.

I Love You Phillip Morris

2009 gay romantic comedy

Rating: 16/20 (Jen: 16/20)

Plot: Stephen Russell,, an on-the-surface happily married police officer , is involved in a car crash. Immediately afterward, he turns gay, proving once and for all (since this is a true story) that people aren't born gay and that the conservatives have been correct all along. He also turns to a life of white-collar crime, conning his way into very comfortable life style with his boyfriend, Jimmy. Until he's arrested. But life really begins for Stephen in prison when he meets the Phillip Morris in the title, a shy gay man who he eventually gets to bunk with. And yes, "bunk" is a euphemism there. Once they're released, Stephen tries to create a happy life for Phillip and him the only way he knows how--illegally.

I could have used a few different posters for I Love You Phillip Morris, but they were all, for whatever reason, pretty gay. This is a good comedy, and it's great for a romantic comedy, aided by two likable leads. Jim Carrey gets some good material to work, and although that side of him that people have been sick of for ten years occasionally rears its ugly head, his flamboyance never really goes over the top and the tender moments are believable. Ewan McGregor's just as good as Phillip. You really feel his vulnerability, and for whatever reason (probably because he's English), he wears gay pretty well. It's a fabulous performance, and I'm not just using the word fabulous because this is a movie about homosexuals. It's shocking to me that he's in a movie where he engages in gay sex and doesn't show his penis on screen though. I believed the two as a couple for most of this and thought they had good chemistry, and the make-out scenes were hot. This feels like too much, too exaggerated to have actually happened, and I wonder how much they stretched things for Hollywood. Comparisons to Catch Me if You Can are probably obvious, but this one is a lot livelier and has this radiance that feels refreshing. It's not all bright, however, as it approaches subject matter nearly taboo for comedy. There's what I thought was a twist that I saw coming, but it was really well done and led to one of the most touching scenes Jim Carrey will ever be involved in. It's all a hell of a lot funnier than Brokeback Mountain though.

My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done

2009 black comedy

Rating: 15/20

Plot: This is the story, loosely based on a true story, of Brad, a guy who loses his mind after his mother serves him Jello one too many times and ends up killing her with a sword. He barricades himself in their house with a pair of hostages while a pair of detectives work on piecing together possible motives and look for a way to get to him.

This isn't a true collaboration exactly, but it certainly feels like one. And for this viewer, it's a David Lynch/Werner Herzog collaboration is a collaboration made in heaven. Or in the subconscious of a schizophrenic maybe. Lynch apparently had very little to do with this, but Herzog pays homage to the producer with a few scenes--a random gas mask, a couple really strange scenes where the actors freeze and break the fourth wall by staring into the camera for a long enough time to make me kind of uncomfortable, conversations about coffee, and a little fellow in a tuxedo. Oh, wait. Herzog uses little people, too. The acting reminded me more of Lynch's characters than Herzog's, speaking in those slightly-off cadences, stilted almost, and somewhat unnatural. I'm not sure if this works as a drama, and anybody watching this as a Law and Order type thing might be disappointed. I caught on quickly enough that this is more dark comedy than crime thriller/drama, more a glimpse at the world as seen through the eyes of somebody with a damaged mind than anything realistic. And who better to show us that world than Werner Herzog? Flashbacks, especially anything having to do with Brad Dourif's Uncle Ted, seem so insubstantial and too dopey to be real, but they work to add up to what gets to the heart of the crime--that Brad is one cuckoo mo-fo. Could that have been explained more naturally? Of course, but it wouldn't have been nearly as much fun. At times, I'll admit, this almost seems like a parody of both Herzog and Lynch's work. Those Uncle Ted scenes, the use of animals, the aforementioned unnatural acting, a character losing his mind in South America, chickens doing something crazy, God as a canister of oatmeal, all those conversations that seem so detached from anything that matters, and so on. I suppose folks who enjoy a chunk of either directors' filmographies will find something to dig in this one. It's probably not essential, more like a limerick or some other nonsense verse written about insanity rather than the poetic look at insanity that Aguirre is. But it is very entertaining. The title, a full sentence by the way, still makes me laugh. I don't see how a person can read that title and think that this is a serious attempt to make a crime drama.

I Walked with a Zombie

1943 voodoo drama

Rating: 16/20

Plot: Nurse Betsy takes a job on a plantation in the Caribbean. The plantation owner's wife is in a sort of walking coma (you know, like a zombie), and Betsy decides to try to cure her. After some failed efforts, she begins to wonder if voodoo is the answer. Meanwhile, she begins to fall in love with the husband.

I'd wanted to see this a while back because of the Roky Erickson song of the same name. Since this has unofficially become Jacques Tourneur month, it seemed like the perfect time to finally check it out. It's a concise nearly-thrill-free thriller, low budget and maybe not as stylish as the other two Tourneur movies I've seen recently, but it does have a few nice scenes. There's a fine moody scene involving a shadowy staircase with the a woman in a black nightgown pursued by a predator in a white dress that's really nice, and there's an atmospheric romp through a field. Some voodoo nuttiness jazzed up things, and I really liked the freaky-eyed guy on the cover, the character who was the most zombified although the titular zombie was actually somebody else. The early depiction of a strange and exotic culture is a bonus. However, a warning: If you're looking for a good zombie movie, this one would likely disappoint.

This Night I Will Possess Your Corpse

1967 sequel

Rating: 14/20

Plot: Coffin Joe is back to his old tricks after being acquitted of the murders he's accused of committing, the same crimes we got to see him commit in the first movie. He still longs for a son, and kidnaps six women with the hopes that one of them will be perfect enough to help him create the perfect offspring. It's sort of like a Coffin Joe reality show except one that is nowhere near as offensive as the Sarah Palin reality show. He dumps tarantulas on them and allows snakes to attack them. This does nothing for his popularity.

All of a sudden, Coffin Joe's got himself a hunchbacked friend! Bruno! This sequel's not as strong as the first, mostly because Coffin Joe never shuts up. The guy just goes on and on and on. No wonder he's got no friends! I still like his character though, as misanthropic as they come, a guy with a weird spider fetish, and a guy who could really be considered a good role model because he sets a goal and then refuses to give up until that goal is reached. There are some genuinely creepy moments, made creepier by the nothing-budget, but this one doesn't shock as much as At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul. There was one great scene though with a close-up of Coffin Joe coming in for a kiss. If anything in this movie gives me nightmares, it'll be that. After the opening credits--weird sound effects accompanying images of floating bones, hands bursting through soil, and underpants--I had high expectations, but this installment of the Coffin Joe story stutter-stepped a bit too much and never was able to sustain a momentum. Bruno was cool though.

I Am a Fugitive from the Chain Gang

1932 prison movie classic

Rating: 17/20

Plot: It's hard times for James Allen, World War I hero. He returns home and then leaves home to find his fortunes, instead getting arrested for helping rob a hamburger joint. Prison, as well as the titular chain gang, aren't nearly as much fun as James had heard it was, and after a while, he plans his escape. Then he does escape, eventually becoming a highly successful engineer in Chicago. However, thanks to a nasty woman, he finds that he can't exactly escape his past.

Paul Muni's name sure is big on the poster up there. It's bigger than the silly title of the movie! That's appropriate actually because his performance really is that good. Atypical for early-30's drama, his is the type of gritty and realistic performance that you'd expect from a more modern actor, like a John Ritter or the kid who played Steve Urkel. The story might get a little tired as James' life gets better, bogging down the movie somewhat, but the first half of the movie has a true grit and the social commentary, although maybe not exactly timely, still delivers. It's a tough movie, the type of movie that would have no problem beating up Gone with the Wind to teach it who's boss. I'm not sure if the ending should be famous for being shocking or for completely dropping off at the end, almost like the screenwriter had a deadline to meet. I liked it well enough though. I was really impressed with the camera work, the movements throughout the prison or around the chain gang. That's also atypical for a 1932 movie. Add this to the list of movies that have full sentences for titles.

He Was a Quiet Man

2007 garbage

Rating: 3/20

Plot: A disgruntled, bullied office worker named Bob, egged on by his talking goldfish, tries to muster up the courage to shoot five of his co-workers and himself. Another co-worker beats him to the trigger, however, and when Bob manages to shoot him and save a life, he becomes a hero. Jack Bauer's daughter is somehow involved.

This is the type of movie where during the end credits, you realize just how much it disagreed with you and begin vomiting up the movie so that you have He Was a Quiet Man all over the floor, walls, and even the ceiling. Projectile. So not only did I have to go to all the trouble of taking this dvd out of a case, putting it in the player, hitting a button, and spending ninety minutes with this terrible piece of crap, but now I have to clean little wet chunks of Christian Slater, William H. Macy, and Elisha Cuthbert up. And William H. Macy stains! I'll probably have to repaint the entire bedroom now. And, like Pavlov's dog, I probably won't be able to walk into my bedroom without thinking of Christian Slater yelling, "I am not a spoon!" and get nauseous again. That's right. Because of He Was a Quiet Man, I will no longer be able to enjoy sexual intercourse in my bedroom. Let's look at the sins of this movie. It's got some of the worst acting I've seen in a long time. Christian Slater just sucks anyway, but at least he's not channeling Jack Nicholson in this one. This has to be the worst that William H. Macy has ever been. There's a guy who's made some solid career choices. I don't recognize any other names on the cast list and I'm trying to forget character names, but this is just stuffed with bad actors playing predictable and/or unbelievable characters. This has some really gimmicky effects (sped-up vehicles, talking fish) including the worst CGI in the history of cinema. It's a scene where Bob is imagining blowing up the building he works, and the computer effect is so bad that it really could have been "animated" using Microsoft Paint without much difference. You wouldn't believe how bad it is. There's some cheesy songs, including some written and performed by director Frank Cappello. Cappello wrote Suburban Commando (starring Hulk Hogan) and Constantine, a movie recently written about on reader Kairow's comic book movie blog. Throw in a lame montage, a goofball sexual scene with Slater and a quadriplegic, dialogue that Ed Wood probably would refuse to take credit for writing, and a twist that I'm not even sure was a twist and you've got yourself a film-school project gone embarrassingly wrong. Black comedy, Lynchian nightmare fantasy, straight drama? I don't know what the hell this is, and I really hope nobody reminds me that it exists within an hour after I've eaten.