B Plus Movies

It’s likely you ‘ve heard the phrase “But what I really want to do is direct”. I don’t know where the cliche started, but there’s always a little fear in my heart when I see a movie directed by a former actor. Some do very well (like Ron Howard). Many produce self indulgent movies of little value except as fodder for MST3K parties (like say, Kevin Costner, save for the notable exception of Dances with Wolves). The best way I can still my concerns is to remember some actor/directors take their work in ways that border on twisted genius.

Danny DeVito falls into that third category. I offer as proof the 2002 dark comedy Death to Smoochy.

Death to Smoochy is set  in the behind-the-scenes world of children’s television, the sort that involves big foam suits and cutsie songs about how to feel good about yourself. We meet Rainbow Randall (played by the brilliant madman Robin Williams) who on screen is a bright and happy source of joy, but after the costume comes off turns out to be a hard boozing, corrupt jerk. He gets fired from his show for taking bribes to get kids in the audience more on screen time and the network, full of people just as corrupt and more concerned with selling merchandise than producing a good show, now have to find a replacement. They take on a seemingly simple do gooder (played by Edward Norton) who sings to recovering addicts at a methadone clinic and turn him into their next star and fiscal mascot, Smoochy the Rhino. But when Smoochy turns out to be a true believer and resistant to the pressures the network is putting on him, things turn ugly and soon the mafia is involved and someone’s got to die.

Wow.

There is so much to like in this movie. Norton and Williams are brilliant in their parts. For that matter so are Catherine Keener (who plays the dead hearted producer of Smoochy’s show), Danny Devito  (a two faced advocate for Smoochy), Harvey Fierstein (mobster) and Jon Stewart (who is quick to point his out as one of his only movie roles). In fact, everyone who is on the screen plays their part to an absurd level of competancy, skill and talent.

The movie does well with always keeping your suspension of disbelief on the edge but by always threatening to go from the bizarre to silly,  it makes the strange situation all the characters are in more real. There are a couple of places where you expect the actors to crack up and look at the camera to say “Do you believe I’m saying this?” but those pass quickly and soon you’re back into a macbre yet hillarious ride.

Death to Smoochy  could have easily been a throw away gag movie, like any of the gross comedies or lesser Adam Sandler movies of the past decade. Instead, it turns into a twisted, pleasantly enjoyable experience. Death to Smoochy is very much a B+ movie and recommend it to almost anyone with a sense of humor.

Rent it. Jon Stewart could always use the extra royalties.

Watching Jackie Chan’s American films, I often wonder if people who have not seen his Chinese films understand just how cool this man is. It’s not just that he did incredible stunts, but that he did them usually with no more to go on than some hand written calculations and a good guess. It’s not that he’s a comedic actor, but also a stunt choreographer and director, sometimes editing his own film. And it’s not just that he has made good movies, but that he’s made movies that completely change one’s expectations from cinema.

Case in point: Police Story.

The film starts with a slight goofball of a cop, played by Jackie Chan, who through a bit of luck and a lot of near fatal moments manages to arrest a crime lord. Afterward, he has to baby sit the crime lord’s secretary until the trial, causing tension and a great deal of misunderstanding between him and his girlfriend. As things progress, the crime lord starts making life a living hell for the cop, framing him for murder. The cop then must take extreme measures to clear his name, which leads to a great deal of mayhem and some really find martial artistry.

Jackie Chan made this movie as a reaction to the film The Protector, an American made action movie that he starred in but in the end thought was kinda bad (I only saw the end of that one, but I can see where he got his opinion). His efforts produced a work that elevated action movies to the next level.  Police Story did a number of things right, but the thing that set it apart was the intense, breathtaking stunts.

We see a shanty town destroyed by a car chase. We see Jackie holding onto a moving double decker bus by an umbrella. We see a motorcycle used as a melee weapon. And then there’s the climactic scene in the mall which is invariably listed as one of his best stunts ever.

Other movies have offered stunts of similar caliber, but what stitches Police Story together is the comedy that happens (mostly) when people aren’t flying across the screen or getting punched. Chan’s character, unlike the square jawed and humorless action heroes with which we are all familiar, seems remarkably approachable and believable, a man just trying to get through his day rather than someone who lives to stomp the wicked and spew bullets towards villainy.  Even when he’s doing things that humans shouldn’t be able to do, he seems the underdog and his success in no way seems inevitable, creating not only sympathy but tension for the viewer.

I don’t knock Jackie Chan’s American offerings. The Rush Hour films were enjoyable and I even liked The Medallion and The Tuxedo. But it’s his work done in China, the one’s where he’s operating without a safety net, by which all his other work must be compared. He may never outdo himself, but even 19 years after it’s release, Police Story shows that he’s got nothing to prove.

And around here, that gets a movie a B+

When people tell me that a movie was bad, it peaks my interest. I accept if not enjoy that my movie tastes are different than the mainstream and different from even some of the people who I can geek out with. But every once in a while, something tests my boundaries, pushes me too far and I have to say, yes, that was a bad movie.

And this is how my fascination ended with the movie Meet The Feebles.

I was psyched to see this movie. It’s directed by none other than Peter Jackson, Oscar winning director of The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. When a friend insisted that all of us at her birthday party sit down and watch it, I was up for it.  Five seconds in I was shrieking internally “They gave this guy Lord of the Rings?” I felt a little part of all that was good and right in the world dying. I thought I was going to vomit. And then, it got worse.

The story in Meet the Feebles takes place behind the scenes on a children’s television program, much like unto The Muppet Show. Also like The Muppet Show, the fuzzy animal actors and plush actresses are not mere puppets, but just as they appear on screen. A hedgehog comes to join the cast and soon is pulled into a world of sex, corruption, drugs and violence.

No, really.

While in and of itself, the concept attracted me rather than turned me off, the execution is what made me physically ill. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with the direction or the acting, it’s that they went straight past gross and dove head first into the repulsive. Jokes are made in broad swaths of feces and  vomit, followed by senseless tragedy and gore. Every place they could push the limits they did, from the sex scenes to the finale involving a depressed Hippo and an M-60 machine gun.

I couldn’t finish this movie. And I saw Howard the Duck twice on opening night.

Some of the characters are cute when they’re not being disgusting. There’s also a neat moment where they parody the Russian roulette scene in The Deer Hunter. That’s about as much as I can say positive about this cinematic abortion.

Occasionally the limits of good taste need to be pushed, lest we take ourselves too seriously. But even that in mind, there are things that should probably never be committed to celluloid. A good many of those are in this movie.

Meet the Feebles has the dubious honor of being the first movie I give an F.  While I’m sure that this will make Peter Jackson cry and blow his nose on a 100 bill, I tell you don’t go see this movie. If you fail to heed this warning, bring a strong stomach, an airsick bag and remember that what you see cannot be unseen.

The world of visual entertainment is changing. Not the way that we thought it would in the early 90’s, with interactive movies and virtual reality, but more in how we receive our media. It’s unlikely that if you’re reading this blog, you’ve not streamed video or downloaded a movie to your computer. Despite this, the industry that produces those neat moving pictures has not really altered how it makes it’s movies in light of the new viewing technologies.

What may herald the next generation of visual storytelling is a viral project called Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog.

Many things set the tale of Dr. Horrible apart from other films. First of all, it is a production that was meant to be seen on the web first, before DVD or the big screen.  Second, it was a pretty low budget piece with name actors (Joss Whedon, director and producer, said that it was in the “low six figures” to make). And it’s advertisement was primarily by word of mouth.

The story itself is a catalog of B Movie staples that could have rendered it a horrid steaming pile of cliche’s but instead, by virtue of the talents involved, turned it into something amazing. Our story begins when would-be, big time supervillian Dr. Horrible (played by Neal Patrick Harris of How I Met Your Mother) plots his entry into the world’s premier group of supervillians, the Evil League of Evil. His chief obsticle is superhero and consumate jerk named Captain Hammer (portrayed with cheesy goodness by Nathan Fillion of Firefly and Slither). Also complicating matters is Dr. Horrible’s love for Penny (brought to life by actress Felicia Day), a kind hearted woman who doesn’t seem to know that he exists.

Clocking in at 45min or so total,  this story has everything you’d expect from most feature length movies and more than some TV shows have in a whole season: drama, romance, revenge, violence, comedy and singing. Oh yes, the singing. The music in this story is incorperated well, neither detracting from or overtaking the spoken dialogue, but instrumental in establishing the mood and pace of the story. The music from the second installment alone was enough to make me want to accquire the soundtrack.

Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog doesn’t give you a lot of time to overexamine it, which is good because if there’s anything that can be checked off in the “suck” column for this one, it’s that it requires a fair suspension of disbelief. It’s a four color comic book world we’re dealing with, which could be hard to get into for people not already familar with the feel and absurdity of such a setting. It might be easy to lose the passion and emotion of the characters when you have to first accept that Dr. Horrible’s current project is a time stopping freeze ray.

But if approached with even the slightest allowance for nonsense, Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog is the very definition of awesome. Starting with the absurd task of making something moving out of the spare time of a few entertainers and a shoestring budget, Dr. Horrible achieves and exceeds every expectation.

Keep in mind that people were buying it off of ITunes when it was still available for free on the internet. For that matter, people are buying it on DVD, though in truth that may have something to do with the special feature Commentary: The Musical.  Whedon has said he’d like to do more Dr. Horrible and I can only hope that he gets the chance, as I can use more things to put a B+ on.

Just like I’m putting on this installment of the story; Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog is a B+ feature and if you haven’t checked it out, I recommend taking the time to do so.

In fact, here’s the link: Watch it!

When I was but a lad of six years old, my babysitter wanted to take me to a movie. I was very okay with this and we shuffled off to see Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Alas, Close Encounters wasn’t quite out yet, so we decided to watch the movie that was playing.

This is how I ended up seeing, in the theatre, The Kentucky Fried Movie.

Besides being an argument for expanded parental guidance warnings, The Kentucky Fried Movie is a series of short bits, most of which have nothing to do with one another. The film hit on themes of the day and 70’s pop culture references, including the energy crisis, kung fu movies and cheesy porn. The humor is driven by puns, sexual innuendo and weird sight gags.

The movie was under-financed and this may be both part of its charm as well as it’s downfall. Watching it thirty years later (pause for a moment while I cry a little) the humor is still there, but is a little stale in the 21st century. The pacing of the film is a few degrees off, something a little extra editing might have fixed. The actors, pretty much anyone the could grab to work for next to nothing, do a respectable job but the lack of Oscar nods to this pictures stars is not without reason.

If I were to do this movie justice, I’d rate each skit on it’s own, but as I’m not trying to write a novel here, I’ll just mention the hightlights:

• Fistful of Yen- The center of the film is a spoof of Enter the Dragon. This is the best bit in the film and if you’ve seen Bruce Lee’s classic, you’ll laugh. If not, you’ll still laugh.
• Catholic High School Girls in Trouble- A trailer for a fake porn movie, it has genuine giggle generating moments even if it’s not really that far off from a real porno ad.
•  The News Bulletins- If anything ties this picture together, it’s the news announcer coming on and saying “Film at 11″. If anything dates this picture, it’s the bad suit that the announcer wears.

Is this movie worth renting? Yes.

Is it worth watching all at once? Not so much.

The reason this format wouldn’t fly post Y2K is that we have YouTube now. Admittedly, you can’t show boobs on YouTube but if you overlook that, The Kentucky Fried Movie is like a prototype of the internet’s best time waster. Funny video clips are visual equivalent of a bag of Reese’s cups: one or two and you’re satisfied, three or four seems indulgent, but more than that and you start feeling a little sick.

Despite fond memories of my babysitter trying to shield my eyes with a popcorn box once she realised what it was we were watching, I have to give the Kentucky Fried Movie a C. If you find this one on special it might be worth having, but I wouldn’t consider one’s life unfulfilled if you miss it.

(Unless you’re me. Then you’d be sad for not having had gone out with a really pretty 18 year old girl, even if you were only six.)

Usually when I talk about B+ Movies, I’m referring to pictures that never made it to the big screen in America. Usually, the weird and interesting stuff just doesn’t get the funding or press or interest it takes to end up a major motion picture. There are, of course, some exceptions.

Take for instance 1989’s UHF.

For those six or eight of you that have never heard of the film’s star, Weird Al Yankovic is a musician who parodies popular songs and has been doing so for around 30 years. He brought this spirit into the realm of film, writing the story of a dreamer who can’t hold a job but who through a bit of happenstance ends up the manager of a UHF TV station.

Now you may be asking yourself “what the hell is UHF”. I’m glad you asked. UHF was the TV equivalent of AM radio. You got it through an antenna, it had crappier reception and almost no one actually tries to use it. It was local cable before local cable existed.

In the story, Weird Al’s station is expected to tank and nearly does until one day, Al puts the janitor on air, a character played by disgraced comedian Michael Richards. The station starts getting some viewers, causing the Network Affiliate to get angry and take steps to run the station out of business. Hilarity ensues.

The film is full of pop culture references to the 80’s with nods to Rambo, Conan the Barbarian and Geraldo Rivera. The comedy in the story is complimented by a host of wacky characters, including a reporter played by Fran Drescher, a midget camaraman and Al’s girlfriend, played by SNL alumni Victoria Jackson

This movie opened the same summer as Batman, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and Lethal Weapon 2. As a result, it did pathetic box office but remained a favorite of fans of Al’s music. It got critical approval, just hit the theatres at the wrong time.

Like a number of 80’s movies, it’s pacing feels very slow to modern audiences, at least modern audiences including me. The film’s jokes are a little cliche now, but that’s mostly because they are the very source of those cliches. When I saw it in the theaters, it was hold-my-sides laughing, now it’s good for a smile and a chuckle.

For that reason, I give UHF a B, not a B+. It’s still worth watching and is still a fun movie. It will make you believe that a man can teach a poodle how to fly. Or not.

A common misconception regarding Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein is that it that “Frankenstein” is the name of the monster. The monster’s name is actually Adam, Frankenstein being his creator. This has not stopped people from adding “Franken-” to the beginning words to evoke the imagery of neck bolts, assembled body parts and things that should not be.

Examples include Frankenberry, Frankenweenie and today’s movie review subject: Frankenhooker.

Frankenhooker was made by the same minds that brought the cult horror films Basket Case and Brain Damage.  In the same over the top, stomach unsettling fashion, we are entertained with a tale of a young inventor who loses his girlfriend to a horrible accident involving a remote control lawnmower of his own design. In order to fix this, our mad scientist protagonist decides he will resurrect his love by the means of an estrogen based reanimation fluid and parts from the bodies of a collection of hookers.

Seriously, this is plot.

This movie is kind of a horror movie in-joke, the sort of thing you’d laugh at if you weren’t up to watching ReAnimator or From Beyond for the fourteenth time.  It’s humor rolls towards the macabre, occasionally taking a detour into the disturbing yet silly. The movie manages to take decapitations, crack cocaine, prostitution and a guy who relaxes by drilling holes in his head and make it all into a kind of slapstick nightmare.

Unearthed Films , a  distributor that specializes in obscure and over the top films (such as B+ Movie Rock and Rule ), released this on DVD in 2006. I’m not sure I’d watch it again, but I find it interesting that there’s enough of an audience for it that someone decided to carry this on into the 21st century.

But how do I grade it… sadly, I give it a C. The movie is a niche picture for a sub-category of fans, not something that really touches a wider audience. This isn’t to say it is without charm, just without remorse and maybe without taste. If you walk into it eyes open, knowing that you’re going to be smirking at the screen one moment and then kind of ill the next, it’s worth checking out.

Me,  I rented this twice in 1990. The imagery was enough to stay with me 18 years later and disturbing enough that I think I’m probably not going to need to watch it ever again.

There was a time not too long ago when the news was full of chatter about preachers and the controversy they caused. I’m not referring to anti-American sentiment or protecting a governor from witchcraft. I’m talking about a more pedestrian form of scandal, that of savings eating superchurches and the piles and piles of cash they rake in. Someone in the 80’s thought that the concept was funny enough to make a feel good movie about people fighting back at this opportunistic pulpit abuse, a picture now only to be found in VHS format.

The movie is called Pass the Ammo.

This flick did not want for recognizable faces. Annie Potts (Designing Women) plays the tall haired, gospel singing spouse of a corrupt, unctuous and unrepentant clergyman played by Tim Curry (if I have to tell you who Tim Curry is, stop reading my blog, look up his resume on IMDB and come back after you’ve watched a dozen or so). Bill Paxton (Aliens, Titanic, and B+ movie Near Dark) plays a would-be Robin Hood who, trying to get his girlfriend’s inheritance back, ends up kidnapping the preacher and his wife in their church/tv studio. From there, we get a few dramatic moments and a few sappy moments and a lot of 80’s flavored laughs.

The jewel in this film is Tim Curry whose acting brilliantly balances between a reality we can despise and a parody we can laugh about. The veteran actor brings a genuine smugness and condescending attitude to the character that makes you really want him to get what’s coming to him. The other performances in the film are worthy, but if you have a taste for Curry, this movie might be worth seeking out for his performance alone.

Bill Paxton’s performance wasn’t exactly Oscar material, but he does give us someone to sympathize with and the rest of the cast does their job well. In addition to the movie’s dry laughs, it has romance and a lot of characters really learning something about themselves (much as every other character in the 80’s did if they weren’t using a machete or an M-60).

I wouldn’t take its depiction of ecclesiastical finance as documentary, but if you ever thought about Jim Baker or Benny Hinn and sneered, you too may find something to relate to in this movie. The movie does share a great deal in common with other underdog-sticking-it-to-the-man movies of the Regan Era without completely disintegrating into pattern and formula.

I wouldn’t break my arm to see Pass the Ammo again but I would stop to watch it on cable and that’s enough to make me take out my “B” stamp and touch it to the screen.

Place your hand on the screen brothers and sisters. Feel the power of the B.

When I walk into a film, I want to know as little about it as possible. Usually, I only need the film’s title and genre, the name of the lead actors and the name of the director. I’ve been in doubt about many projects until I hear a good producer is attached. Sometimes a writer alone is enough to put me off.

Take, for instance, Luc Besson. I want to like his work.  Leon: The Professional was amazing, even if creepy in its pedophilic moments. I feel The Fifth Element was flawed but at least pretty. The Transporter and its sequel were entertaining, but only at the popcorn and soda, Saturday matinee, don’t-think-about-it-things-are-blowing-up level. But then there are the movies Kiss of the Dragon and Unleashed, which seem to have all the right ingredients for an omelet filled with kick ass (good concept, good cast) but curdle because of too much herb de Besson.

Such is the flaw to his otherwise notable screenplay Wasabi.

Wasabi starts with a French supercop, played by Jean Reno, finding out that he’s got an 19 year old daughter, the product of a 20 year old affair with a Japanese spy. Reno’s character goes to Japan (while on suspension, like most movie cops are) to seek out the daughter, played with frenetic excellence by Ryoko Hirosue. Once there, things get blown up and people get pummeled as the father tries to figure out how to relate to his daughter while at the same time how to save her from a deadly plot to which she is key.

This movie has some great moments. There are slapstick fight scenes that would make Jackie Chan proud, particularly one in which Reno is beating the crap out of people who are tailing his daughter as they shop for clothes, delivering the smackdown without his daughter seeing a thing. It’s got some fleeting moments of warmth and tenderness, like when Reno is correcting Ryoko’s French. It also has a taste of drama as they both deal with the loss of the woman whose death brought them together.

The movie is hard to pin down to one genre because it has elements of so many. And that’s where it comes up just short of greatness.

This movie makes the mistake of trying to be all things to all people. It wants to be an action comedy, except when it wants to be gritty action drama. It will try to get you to be scared of the villains while simultaneously trying to get you to laugh at how they’re being implausibly stomped by one man with a pair of golf clubs. The movie starts to look tense and thrillerish, but then turns all buddy film on you without warning. It seems to want to be many so many different stories that it fails to do any of them justice. This movie had cult classic written all over it and should have been phenomenal. Instead, it turned out fun but forgettable.

Except maybe for the scene with the transvestite bank robbers. That will stay with you.

Wasabi ranks a strong C, which is sad because with a bit more focus, this really could have been a B+ Movie.