Unseen Terror 2017: Day 2

After spending the day with his girlfriend Sarah, promising schoolteacher Johnny Smith heads home for the evening. Due to stormy weather, however, he is involved in a car accident that leaves him in a coma. Five years pass, and Johnny is awoken by the hospital's neurologist, and he is informed that during this lengthy state of unconsciousness, Sarah has not only married but also bore a child. More surprising, however, is that the now-former educator has the ability to see a person's thoughts and visions through physical contact. While recovering, he attempts to rebuild his life, though the residents of his hometown all seem to have varying opinions on this man who claims that he can read your mind and potentially even see things that you cannot. In fact, there are some who feel as if his newfound ability can come in handy, be it for solving crimes, or preventing far worse ones from occurring in the near future.



This year officially marks the earliest time that Stephen King has made an appearance during my marathon (2013 had Brian De Palma's Carrie as my third entry). What happens to be more surprising is the fact that this was the very first time that I sat down to watch 1983's The Dead Zone, which as of this writing, is the only collaborative effort between the Maine author and well-respected filmmaker David Cronenberg (Videodrome, The Fly, The Brood). It also stands as one of actor Christopher Walken's most well-known movie efforts, and along with The Deer Hunter and True Romance, can be considered an essential viewing for fans of the quite kooky performer. One can make a very strong argument that this is one of the aforementioned director's most accessible pieces of work, but more on that later.


Walken does indeed deserve all of the praise for his portrayal of Johnny Smith (King sure could have picked a better name), as he keeps the character grounded and feeling human throughout its very brisk running time. For someone who has been gifted/cursed with the ability of second sight, he makes the former schoolteacher feel as if you could know a person like this in your daily life. The science fiction aspect of his powers and entire scenario is also perhaps the most realistic that I've seen in a motion picture in quite some time, as he doesn't overuse his abilities and we focus on the variety of people throughout; our protagonist may not even be the most fascinating human being stuck in this bizarre interpretation of Castle Rock, Maine. Martin Sheen is also splendid to watch as a slimy, overconfident local politician with delusions of grandeur and dreams of ascending to the oval office. He does have moments where he hams it up, but it's all in good fun and works to help give you the feeling that this is not as kind of a world as one would imagine it to be.


The actors' portions aside, I feel as though we have to go back to David Cronenberg. Many fans such as myself tend to affiliate the Canadian director with the fear of losing control of one's own physical being. In nearly every effort of his that I've seen, there is this inherent and all-too-real sense of dread that we are not in control of our bodies, and in fact will deteriorate in more ways than we can imagine once something very basic has been altered. The decaying and transformation themes found in The Fly are a perfect example of this, and though The Dead Zone is a largely normal motion picture compared to his more grotesque and....well, icky releases (save for one moment involving a pair of scissors that can make even the most hardened person shudder), there is still this sort of morbidity that permeates from Johnny every time that he shakes the hand of another individual. He directs Walken and his co-stars in such a way that they truly feel remorseful and often frightened (a fine example is when Sheen first shakes hands with Walken) that this can not be prevented after his accident. Cronenberg understands that just because you've inherited a unique power doesn't mean that you will see everything that you want to see.


It goes without saying, but David Cronenberg's ninth entry into his very impressive filmography is absolutely worth adding to your watch list this year. It's filled with some solid, creepy suspense, and chocked full of enough emotionally-driven performances to help it stay above the rest of the (admittedly) hit-or-miss Stephen King adaptations out there. Much like yesterday's entry, the influence of The Dead Zone can clearly be seen on pictures from through the following decades, including Frailty and the Final Destination series. Unlike those gems, the classification of this as a "horror" movie is up for debate, but it's a damn fine flick regardless. The Dead Zone is available for purchase on DVD in most retail outlets that still carry physical media, and was even re-released on home video recently for about the same amount that you would pay for a happy meal at McDonald's.



But heck, perhaps if you had Johnny's second sight, you could ensure that you receive the correct toy that you were searching for.



Tomorrow, we make the decision to stick around in the 1980s, and pay a second visit to an old friend with a shiny, silver sphere...

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 21 & Day 22

As a military vehicle is transporting the dangerous gas known as Trioxin from town to town, a single barrel breaks loose from the back of the truck, and falls into a nearby river. Soon afterwards, a young boy named Jesse is coerced by two bullies to venture into the nearby cemetery, where all three stumble across the aforementioned tank. Though Jesse warns that they should not tamper with it, the others are far more ambitious, as they decide to lock their "victim" inside of a vault in the hopes that he will no longer disturb them. Though he is eventually and accidentally freed by a trio of grave robbers, it is too late to stop his curious comrades from messing with the Trioxin, which has effects that are worse than anything that they ever could have imagined. Within no time, the dead rise from the ground, and they are craving only one thing: BRAINS!



Before going into my review for this little ditty, I have to apologize and correct myself for a huge error that was made not too long ago: Unseen Terror was started in 2011, NOT during the year prior to that. How was I able to recall this you may ask? Well, it is because my premiere choice for the very first entry came from Dan O'Bannon's The Return of the Living Dead, a 1985 horror-comedy that is wisely and justifiably adored for its great sense of humor, killer soundtrack, blood/gore, and a very keen ability to not take itself too seriously. So, as luck would have it, I was able to stumble across one of its many sequels from throughout the years. Having also previously seen the follow-up to this picture, but not the actual finished, whole product itself, I felt that a proper viewing was in order. Plus, this is officially my three-hundredth post on here, so I said why the hell not?


I have often heard from fans and critics that the ROTLD series can be categorized as "Punk Rock Zombie" flicks, and after having seen at least three of these pictures, I don't believe that they are completely wrong. In terms of the music department, Part II isn't nearly as impressive as its predecessor, but it does an admirable job at being able to stick out in a sea of sequels with a killer soundtrack, featuring artists like Anthrax and Leatherwolf playing throughout. Tragically, also like the film before it, being able to obtain a cut of the movie with every artist's song featured in the initial theatrical run is nearly impossible thanks to copyright issues, and unless you are willing to settle for the French audio track on the DVD release, you are most likely going to have to track something down at a nearby horror convention. There are also a good number of other technical aspects found throughout this follow-up worth smiling over, including some very colorful gore and the return of the (now) iconic Tarman zombie (though he looks far more comical this time around and gets even less screen time). All of the crew in the makeup department knock it out of the park with some hilariously silly-looking deceased beings, including a woman with worms constantly sticking and wiggling out of her face, and a corpse who gets blasted into two pieces but somehow keeps functioning. Unlike the 1985 release, Part II is definitely played more for laughs, and it comes closer to being lumped into the subgenre known as "comedy-horror" rather than "horror-comedy." "Wait Ryan, what is the difference between those two?" Trust me, if you sit down and watch it yourself, then you shall understand what I'm saying.


Now, while I am absolutely satisfied with the bloodier and louder ends of the spectrum, I would be remiss not to bring up the other aspects of ROTLD Part II. While the creativity behind those in the realm of the undead certainly makes for a memorable experience, other portions of this entry just leave you feeling kind of disappointed. As is the case with most sequels, a majority of this motion picture feels like recycled or redundant material. The most apparent, obvious case of this comes from the casting of James Karen and Thom Mathews as two of our leads. Because it was essentially impossible for their characters from Part 1 to return to the big screen (my apologies for the spoiler), it just feels odd to see them pop back up again, and their new roles feel like carbon copies from that picture in question. Come to think of it, the two even go so far as to make a joke about the similarities and near-duplication towards the middle of its running time, which begs the question of why would you watch this tale instead of its three-year-old ancestor?


Astonishingly, ROTLD Part II is currently sitting at a disastrously-low rating of zero percent on website aggregator Rotten Tomatoes. Perhaps it is the bias of a horror fan that is coming out to say the following, but to imply that this is far worse than something truly wretched like Meet the Spartans or Fantastic Four is just wholly, stupidly wrong. Much like another undeservedly-trashed sequel to a bigger film, it is far from a perfect product (a good half of its cast or crew have been outspoken about their dislike for the picture and feel that it's a blatant cash grab), but it's a watchable sequel with oodles of cheese and enough charm and pizzazz to help it stick a decent landing. I'm uncertain as to how memorable it will be for you in the long run, but for the time being, it is a fairly acceptable way to kill 90 minutes. Currently, the DVD is relatively inexpensive to purchase, and it can be viewed for free if you have a subscription to Starz and/or access to their on-demand library.



So, since this was a follow-up that took me by pleasant surprise, let us see if we can duplicate that magic outside of the realm of zombie movies.......

To say that 1995's Italian production Cruel Jaws makes for a particularly fascinating watch is one colossal understatement. The movie was marketed and released in many areas across the globe as Jaws 5: Cruel Jaws, and reuses themes and footage from a number of other, superior pictures (there's even teases of the beloved theme from Star Wars) involving these killer beasts of the ocean. In fact, for that reason alone, the movie has been extremely difficult to track down and is ineligible for a proper DVD or Blu-Ray release (though there always is the bootleg circuit).

Which leads me to utter the following: I have always been told that if you can't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all. Of course, that would make me a huge hypocrite given all of the trashing that I have done of lesser flicks from throughout the years, but I really do not care at this point. Regardless, I can comfortably say that the best aspect of the Grade-Z Cruel Jaws (outside of one of the lead actors appearing to be a doppelganger for professional wrestler-turned cultural punchline Hulk Hogan) was that it ended, and was mildly less torturous to watch than Up from the Depths. And even then, I will be debating with myself for a quite a while about such a statement.

....that's it though. No more is being said or typed. Nope. Let's just move on to tomorrow's entry, shall we?

Speaking of that, let's just say that my "theatrical" choice for this year's Unseen Terror was unlike anything that I have ever sat through...

Don't Breathe (2016) Review

Three young, small time criminals spend most of their time breaking into various homes, stealing only what is requested of their superiors or employers. Despite seemingly enjoying what they do on a regular basis, at least two are growing frustrated with this profession, longing to leave this life behind and begin anew. When one receives a tip about a residence that supposedly contains upwards of $300,000 in cash stashed inside of a basement, the group agree to one last heist. While on stakeout, they discover that not only is this abode inhabited by one, older man, but that the homeowner is blind. Later that evening, as the break-in is commencing, the solitary resident is revealed to be nowhere near as defenseless as he may appear to others, and that this dilapidated dwelling houses some very sinister secrets.

"I'm sorry, but North America just doesn't produce any good horror films anymore." 

As a movie lover and reviewer, if I may be able to request one thing these days, it would be that such a statement as that be put out to pasture. Over the last six years, we have been lucky enough to receive a large number of motion pictures that serve as not only adoring love letters to the fanbase and the genre's past, but a good chunk of releases, be they released to on-demand services or cineplexes, that have also managed to gather the necessary testicular fortitude to push it into a daring, new direction. Yes, there are still a myriad of unnecessary remakes and reboots that seem to come out more frequently than even I would expect, but they rarely affect the legacy of the originals, and are often forgotten about within a staggeringly short amount of time. Naturally, the response to some of the previously mentioned pictures in mind has been rather divisive, but that is expected from nearly anything to come along these days. To say that cynicism and hints of nihilism is a large problem in the communities of nearly everything that I personally like would be an understatement. However, with something as prominent as the "home invasion" sub-genre occasionally being forgotten about (save for gems such as Adam Wingard's You're Next), taking a risk by switching things up and having those who are burglarizing end up as the victims instead, is an opportunity that I believe is vital for the genre's survival.

As it turns out, 2016's Don't Breathe, written/directed by Fede Alvarez (Evil Dead 2013) and distributed by Robert Tapert and Sam Raimi's (Army of Darkness, Spider-Man) Ghost House Productions (Drag Me To Hell, 30 Days Of Night), is one of the best theatrically-released horror films that I have seen in recent memory. Heck, even though I am typing this in the month of August, I would not be shocked whatsoever to see this end up in my own personal "top ten" list towards the end of the year. A horror/thriller piece that is ripe with this much tension throughout its eighty-eight minute running time deserves all of the praise that is bestowed upon it. If you are the type of fan that pays good money to see horror flicks with the intention of being scared, or at least feeling so nervous that it could potentially induce nausea, this could be like discovering that the finest bottle of sake that you normally would go out of your way to seek is suddenly available right down the road. What a rather glorious feeling. What is sure to elicit the most amount of recognition during this feature's run over the course of the next month or two will be the wonderful cinematography and lighting, which is powerful enough to make the most claustrophobic and nyctophobic of people want to soil themselves. Unfortunately, that rules out the possibility of my own father ever viewing Don't Breathe, but you can't please everyone folks. It also packs a creepily effective score courtesy of Sexy Beast's Roque Banos, who knows not to be overbearing or obnoxious with a project such as this.

One of the wiser choices from somewhat-new heads sitting in the director's chair, as well as up-and-coming casting directors such as Rich Delia (Dallas Buyers Club, 2017's It), is to choose relatively unrecognizable faces as both heroes and villains. With this, Fede Alvarez manages to conjure up some exceptionally well done acting from our relatively minuscule list of performers. Evil Dead alumni Jane Levy is back after what seems like an eternity of absence from the big screen (hey, three years can seem that much longer in a horror fanatic's world), and reminds folks yet again about why publications and websites such as Forbes and Complex were so high on the very talented woman and her future in the world of entertainment. Her other companions, portrayed by Goosebumps' Dylan Minnette, and It Follows' Daniel Zovatto, are also in very fine form, with both adding more humanity to Don't Breathe to help keep it grounded and interesting. Quite often, you can pick out a weak link among any sort of ensemble, no matter the size, but that is far from the case in Don't Breathe. Admittedly, I have complained multiple times in the past about my personal gripes with how some characters act in situations such as these (it was my main reason for being unenthused with 2006's Them, a.ka. Ils), but when you consider their circumstances, personalities, and disappointing lives outside of their profession, being cross at them for taking certain actions becomes far more understandable.

Of course, what is a good horror movie without a diabolical reprobate? Avatar's Stephen Lang delivers one hell of a nerve-racking performance as The Blind Man (if my memory serves me right, our trio of robbers never learn his real name), and he is easily the most unique foe to come along in one of these films in several years. The aged citizen is cold, creepy, and underneath it all, assuredly deranged. While you do feel more than a few ounces of sympathy for the elderly gentlemen throughout the first half of the film's running time, its twists and turns slowly remind you that even handicapped individuals such as this one can keep terrible, awful mysteries hidden from the general public. At the risk of minor spoilers, to say that you experience a complete 180 degree turnaround on your opinion of the man, especially if you are a woman, is the most obvious statement of the year. It makes the events surrounding these poor souls, and Don't Breathe as a whole, that much more demented and daring. The Blind Man is also accompanied by a rather intimidating, relentless pet Rottweiler, who at times, manages to disturb and freak you out more than his own master can do. After witnessing the crazed canines in this year's Green Room, I think it may be safe to say that assorted writers in Hollywood have been doing a damn fine job of reminding audiences that man's best friend can be more difficult to deal with than you would think.

Don't Breathe is an often quiet, firm, yet exhilarating piece of suspenseful horror that both respectful devotees and casual fans of the genre will greatly be able to appreciate, while never feeling like it has to be desperate and scare the audience with cheap thrills and predictable cliches found in releases that are of lesser quality and take very few chances. No, it is well aware that have paid good money to be thrilled and frightened, and that after barking for so long that you "deserve a better class of fear," it is going to do the very best to stand and deliver on that request. As I have stated multiple times before, if you are willing to let yourself be sucked into a movie's world, absorbing every necessary detail and looking at these human beings as something more than just characters stuck in a scary movie, I am more than convinced that you can have just as fantastic of a time as I did. After all, when a sizable gathering of moviegoers* are eliciting several audible moans, gasps, and flat-out "NO!"s during a majority of the right moments when you are supposed to, you know that you have done your job as a filmmaker particularly well.

Now, perhaps if it isn't too much to ask for, can we hire someone to write a new character for Stephen Lang to play in the Marvel Cinematic Universe? Perhaps a "Reverse-Daredevil," ala the antagonist for the CW's adaptation of The Flash? Yes, I know that the actor is not legally blind, but one can dream, can't I?

......Wait, there are TWO OTHER individuals in the Marvel Comics world for him to potentially tackle? Well, I suppose that can suffice...for now....

Note: I only say "sizable" because, and I hate to say it, some moviegoers will venture into every picture in this field with the worst of intentions; sporting a defiant, arrogant attitude that says they lack a willingness to be scared. Don't be that person. Let your guard down. Be afraid. Be very afraid. :)

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 27

40--year-old idler Juan seems to be fairly content with his life. He may not have a real, full-time job, but that doesn't prevent him from making ends meet or from killing time with his best friend Lazaro. While fishing on a small raft one day, the two accidentally snag a human carcass that comes to life and attempts to attack them. Lazaro manages to put it down, and they think of it as nothing but a random, isolated incident. Not long afterwards, things slowly start to go awry in Juan's neck of the woods, with numerous other reanimated corpses, being mistakenly identified by the media as products of America, swarming the republic and devouring anyone in sight. Disposing of several more "dissidents," the duo storm up an idea that won't just rid people of their undead problems, but may also make them quite a bit of money on the side.



You know, now that I have had a little bit of time to think about it, I don't recall ever seeing a zombie film set in or around Cuba. Even in the printed publications Fangoria and Horror Hound (where I first heard about this particular picture), they couldn't remember the last time that something has been set there, especially in terms of ones that deal with this fantastical, supernatural subgenre of horror. Then again, writer/director Alejandro Brugues' Juan Of The Dead (translated from Juan De Los Muertos) is apparently the first independent production to come from the country in quite some time, and it has the backing of a good number of notable Spanish and Cuban industries as co-producers on the project. Personally, I am all for film expansion from any and every country imaginable, since I believe that language barriers should not hinder one's enjoyment of a fun flick. If you are still bothered by having to read subtitles in 2015, you need to examine your head. Or better yet,

Yes, the irony of posting a Shaun Of The Dead clip in a review for a movie with an eerily similar-sounding title is not lost on me. Let's move on.


Thankfully, Juan does provide for a decent amount of fun considering that it was most likely not blessed with the largest amount of money at its disposal. And while the horror aspects of the production don't have anything too spectacular to discuss (save for one or two random occurrences towards the middle and final act), its sense of humor manages to keep the audience from getting bored. The titular character (portrayed by Alexis Diaz de Villegas) plays everything with a relatively straight face, melding slacker apathy with the hidden desire to do better for that one special person in their life (in this case, it's his estranged offspring). Yes, that aspect has been seen before in far too many flicks that I can name, and he may not be as easy to relate to as some of the other heroes that we've come across on this year's marathon, but he does have some semblances of humanity that keep the viewer from wishing he was gone. His interactions with close chum Lazaro (Jorge Molina) provide for some of the feature's more memorable moments, as do some of the more subtle nods to zombie films of prior years such as Lucio Fulci's Zombi 2. Most of the film's top laughs come from when is it at its zaniest or for when things quickly go south, such as when the group of survivors first attempt to decipher what the hell is going on, using various methods in the hopes of determining what fictional being is causing trouble and why every single person is morphing into "dissidents."


Not all of the humor hits though, and some of it just comes across as a bit on the mean and maniacal side. There's a crossdressing character named La China (who explains that this was chosen because you can't put up any walls around her) whose whole schtick seemed to be acting like a prude, and even when she isn't present, there does seem to be a bit of homophobia that permeates throughout the other characters' dialogue. Juan's equally lazy friend Lazaro also seems to have a tendency to attack the occasional familiar face over paltry things, and even resorts to beating innocents to death because they owe him money. Having never been to Cuba, I don't know if these are common to hear and witness down there, but I felt a bit more disappointed than I wanted to be.


By no means will Juan Of The Dead change the game when it comes to movies that deal with combating legions of the undead, but it doesn't appear that such a thing was its original intention. Thankfully, it still manages to get by on some charm, the amusing penchant to poke fun at its own protagonists' warped sense of morality, and a fair, clever way to disguise a lower budget (not to mention a nice use of Sid Vicious' "My Way," which is the first time that I've heard it since Goodfellas) . If you're feeling cheeky and up for a quick watch during your occasional day off, this newer entry into the horror-comedy genre is available to rent on sites such as Youtube and Amazon Prime, and the DVD/Blu-Ray from Focus Features can be purchased here.



Tomorrow, we have another Academy Award winner on the blog (our first since Halle Berry). Will she leave a lasting impression in the 2011 entry? Well, to throw in a hint, we have to talk about that...

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 4

Relatively straight-laced officer Roger Mortis and his loudmouthed partner Doug Bigelow are called to the scene of a jewelry store robbery, and find it shockingly hard to kill the violent criminals responsible. Visiting a friend of Roger's, who also happens to be a coroner, they are informed that the two culprits had previously passed away before their act at the location had occurred. Discovering a preserve chemical found in the bodies of the deceased, the two trace it to a strange company that has been ordering it in bulk for a small amount of time. When things go awry during their investigation at the facility, Roger is killed. However, before his partner and friends can mourn for too long, they discover an unusual machine that is seemingly capable of bringing the dead back to life...



Choosing an entry for 1988 proved to be far more difficult that I had expected it to be. Mind you, it wasn't due to a lack of quality movies, but rather due to what I had not previously watched. There were many works of wonder released to theaters during that year, including Pumpkinhead, The Serpent & The Rainbow, The Blob, Killer Klowns From Outer Space, and many more that you should have already seen by now. For reasons unknown to even myself, I chose Mark Goldblatt's lone directorial effort, the action/comedy/horror project Dead Heat, which stars many people who I had legitimately forgotten had careers at one point in their lives. Perhaps that long-term memory loss was a good thing.


For a flick filmed and released twenty seven years ago, Dead Heat actually looks like it was from thirty seven years earlier instead. The color schemes and editing scream late 1970s, with even some of the dialogue and shootouts seemingly lifted from programs that are often looked back on with an almost ironic love by some of those "I Love The *insert decade*" shows. Heat's classification as a horror picture was slightly puzzling to me for its first thirty minutes or so, and its first truly horrific and memorable moment doesn't occur until the officers make a stop by a butcher shop (ran by legendary Chinese-American actor Keye Luke), wherein they are attacked by the reanimated corpses of some staples typically found in an Asian-themed restaurant. Truth be told, that was also when my doubt of it being a horror-comedy was erased, albeit while producing chuckles more than full-fledged laughs.


Speaking of staples, our officers are, for better or for worse, relics of their time. Treat Williams (Hair, The Phantom, 1941) seems like he's mostly being confined and held down, unable to let loose or have fun with what has transpired. Sure, he does eventually start to develop some sort of personality outside of being the prototypical good cop character in every motion picture or television show from the past four decades, but gosh does it take far too long. While blandness will almost always lose out to other's traits in pictures like this, it's far superior to the flat-out irritation from costar Joe Piscopo (Saturday Night Live). I won't lie when I will tell you that it was indescribably difficult to try and find a way to not repeatedly type "Shut the FUCK UP Joe Piscopo" for my review. There's a certain negative charisma to the guy, reeking of a certain pungent stench that just makes it impossible to laugh with (or even at) the guy. Eh, I guess that I shouldn't harp on this too much longer, so I'll just conclude with:

Despite a really fun supporting role from Vincent Price (who kills it even when he's on autopilot), and an admittedly fantastic finale (mostly due to minimal screen time from Piscopo and an excellent decaying sequence), Dead Heat is just such a tossup for me. It's a great idea (one of which would be slightly retooled for 2013's dreadful R.I.P.D.), but its execution is insanely frustrating. For every time that I was starting to enjoy the experience, something would just swoop in and steal the smile from my face. I suppose that I can say it's worth a try solely based on that previously mentioned third act and conclusion, but heed my advice and prepare for many moments that could make you grimace more than you may have wanted to this season.



Tomorrow, I decide to explore one of the more (purportedly) underrated gems from the slasher genre, wondering if we really will see Bruce Campbell and Renee Estevez in starring roles that were advertised to the home video market. I suspect that I may have been lied to again though.....

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 1

To quote one of my favorite podcasts, happy days are here again! My yearly collection of assorted viewings in the realm of horror cinema has returned, this time for its sixth year. If you aren't familiar with how I do this, I handpick at least thirty one different films that deal with horror in some way shape or form, and watch them across the span of thirty one days. I know, this isn't exactly the most unique concept when you peruse the internet (most notably Youtube), but this is just for my own amusement and potential torture. This year, however, I've added a very special twist: within a little more than a week, I shall be celebrating my thirtieth birthday. To commemorate this, I've specifically chosen films released between the years of 1985 and 2015, with at least one film released during that year to serve as said daily entries. We'll dive into the glorious pickings of the late 1980s, suffer through some rather difficult viewings of the late 90s, and scratch at our heads at some of the works of the mid 2000s.

Without any further stallings, let us commence the journey into my ramblings disguised as reviews.

The world has been ravaged and torn apart by a zombie apocalypse. Anyone who is not infected is an uncommon attraction among the millions of dead that plague the planet. Still, two groups of survivors have taken refuge underground, only to surface if supplies or food are becoming scarce. The first band of people is a troop of soldiers, lead by the brash, if not slightly ill Captain Henry Rhodes. The other is mostly comprised of scientists, who are a more optimistic pack of individuals, with one even going so far as to experiment on the deceased, believing they can be tamed through the right means. As tensions mount between the two, the undead evils above ground grow closer and closer...

Given that I absolutely love the original Night of the Living Dead and enjoy Dawn Of The Dead a good amount, you would have figured that I had seen George Romero's third entry into the zombie genre that he helped make into the juggernaut that it is today. Shockingly, I had not. Hell, I actually purchased a copy from Anchor Bay (THIS one with a velcro cover to be exact) nearly a decade ago with the intentions of watching and most likely adoring it. Again, that amusingly did not happen. Why you might ask? No reason. Well, perhaps laziness, but that can be my excuse for most things in my own personal life.


But after having finished Day Of The Dead, I really do need to remedy these problems disguised as mere procrastination. While I don't feel that the third entry in Romero's initial zombie trilogy is his strongest project, it does have a lot of impressive aspects to it. For starters, there is an immediate sense of dread and hopelessness that is set in stone from the very beginning. The barren cities (for what we see of them) give you the impression that something rather serious has occurred, making the world of modern day zombie tales such as The Walking Dead seem paltry in comparison. Accompanying it is a rather wonderful score by Mr. John Harrison, whose previous work on noted cult favorite Creepshow was also solid, if not a bit sillier at times. It almost makes up for the disappointment of realizing that Dawn composers Goblin and Dario Argento aren't back for the ride this time around. Almost.


Director George Romero has always seemed to have a knack for getting memorable performances, be they excellent or hilariously bad, out of his cast, even if the subject matter at hand was far from top notch material (Monkey Shines comes to mind). Joseph Pilato's Captain Rhodes is obviously the first person that will come to mind for previous viewers and even first time watchers such as myself. He's delightfully psychotic, but still somewhat sympathetic during select moments. The rest of his personnel came across as too cartoon-like for my taste, especially given the terrible situations that these people are in. Perhaps it was delusional behavior that was meant to hide how they really felt living in a society overrun by zombies, but maybe I'm looking into this too much. I couldn't help but be amused by Anthony Dileo Jr's character though, as he plays the supporting boyfriend to star Lori Cardille, but sounds like he's about to cry in every scene that he appears in. When the time comes for him to actually let out legitimate wails of anguish and pain, you just want to tell him to try harder since it seems like he used up all of his energy earlier in the film. Lead expert Dr. Matthew Logan, aka "Frankenstein," seems like he graduated from the Jeffrey Combs school of "matter of fact" acting, though that is far from a complaint given that the latter is one of the most underrated actors of the past three decades.


I suspect that what will keep people coming back to repeated viewings of Day Of The Dead will be its notorious scenes of violence, gore, and dissection. With each installment, the pure insanity and outrageousness has gone up exponentially, turning from Night's initial shock, to Dawn's slight disgust, and finally settling into Day's pure, unadulterated horror. Though I am certainly not going to spoil if anyone in particular or rather notable dies during its two hours running time, I can say that the final act is the movie equivalent of an early Cannibal Corpse or Dismember record. The legendary Tom Savini (Dawn Of The Dead, Friday The 13th) is at the top of his game here, being assisted by future juggernaut Greg Nicotero (The Walking Dead, Misery), and every single kill is just a sight to behold. It was no wonder that the former was given a Saturn Award in 1985 for his work on the set and makeup.

"Ey fam, check out my mixtape."

It's easy to just gush like a fanboy about this wonderful little gem, and honestly, I'm not sure that I've even said much that hasn't already been uttered by horror connoisseurs and experts across the continent. Day Of The Dead's influence is mighty, seen in underground follies like Fido (the idea of domesticating or controlling a zombie) and the Resident Evil series of flicks (there are far too many to count). I don't know if I can fully back George Romero's statement that he believes this is his best work, but it's a great specimen and example of the genre that is often overcrowded with lackluster or unimaginative efforts. If you're a fan of the people vs. people vs. zombies formula of a certain modern television show that draws higher ratings than most other programs, you may want to find a cheap copy to buy (and if you have the money, do a double screening with another little zombie classic from 1985 that I've reviewed before!).



Oh, you're broke you say? Well, it's also available on Netflix's instant streaming service. So there you go you cheapskate.




Tomorrow, we're diving into two entries for 1986. One choice will deal with the vehicular side of horror. The other takes us back into the realm of H.P. Lovecraft. What do they have in common?



....you're not paying attention if you ask that question....

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 10

Unconfident and overly stressed, Keiko, the daughter of a world famous chef, runs from her father after feeling that she can not deal with his strict training regime on how to better her preparation of dishes. Soon thereafter, she finds herself working in a rural hotel doing menial work, constantly bullied and maligned by her superiors and the frequenting guests. When the president of a pharmaceutical company and his entourage stop in for dinner, a former researcher for the man also decides to pay a visit, vowing revenge for his ousting years prior. This retribution comes in the form of a serum designed to bring dead material back to life.


Do you remember what I said about select motion pictures being immune to criticism and legitimate reviews? Well, this statement can be applied to nearly every work spearheaded by eccentric Japanese oddball (and former adult movie director) Noboru Iguchi. Outside of the porn industry, his filmography primarily consists of works that are clearly not meant to be taken seriously, and mean to just entertain its audiences through sheer insanity. In that sense, works such as The Machine Girl and his horror-comedy Dead Sushi are closer to foreign versions of Troma Entertainment movies. And that's exactly what the latter does in wonderfully wacky fashion.


And in terms of what does this certain Japanese picture help stand out and earn the definition of being called "wacky?" For starters, before the carnage kicks in (and even during it), we're treated to several legitimate fight sequences between our head chef and several antagonists that aren't cooked with rice or fish. These scenes are remarkably well-choreographed when you consider that this is supposed to be a cheap, dumb little splatter picture. Though they may hail from different countries, it wouldn't surprise me whatsoever if Iguchi-san is secretly a fan of Stephen Chow or Jackie Chan, since every battle feels as authentically funny as it does look cool. Oh, I did say cheap above, did I not? Well, unlike a lot of other pieces in this field, Dead Sushi's lackluster CGI and often cheap-looking stop motion animation often make up part of its charm.


In between this crazed food frenzy (I know, I know), there is almost a heart beating underneath. Female chef Keiko's plight and frustrations with never being able to live up to expectations from her family are completely identifiable, if not a tad bit exaggerated when you see the training that she has to go through in order to become a true expert at constructing the cuisine (if this is how it's actually done, then I am very sorry). Before you get too easily led astray, the narrative doesn't forget about your wants and needs, and gives us moments such as a man eating a (literally) spiked tuna roll and another person's skin being torn from both sides of his face by a squid and tempura roll. Director Iguchi seems completely intent on not just filling in the blanks with a few gross or over-the-top pieces, but with one-upping himself after every few minutes or so. It makes for charming stuff, though it does begin to run out of steam towards the climax. It goes into full blown "anime" mode, and while as equally entertaining (if not a bit asinine), it feels like taking several shots of espresso after coming down from a very drunken, painful high.


During one scene involving the intercourse of two pieces of sushi which produces a mass explosion of sushi "babies," one survivor manages to utter the sentence "Things have reached the point where they don't make sense!" If that isn't this movie to a tee, then I don't know what is. It will either convince you to start living a vegan lifestyle, or make you more hungry for seafood than you've ever been in your entire life. After watching an extra on the DVD, wherein a tiny Austin, Texas crowd gathered at the yearly Fantastic Fest for a sushi-eating contest involving often-maligned (and quite frankly disgusting) ingredients, I'm willing to bet it could be an odd mixture of both. Still, it's watchable, and a lot of fun for those with a demented mind and a big group of likeminded friends.



After all, anything with a piece of egg salad sushi that sings and spits acid has to be worth at least a quick glance.

Alcoholic police officer Ciaran O'Shea is unhappy with his newly assigned partner Ms. Lisa Nolan, a workhorse who has transferred to his remote Irish island. After receiving a distress call about numerous whale corpses having washed ashore, and later with the disappearance of numerous townsfolk, the Gardai, alongside an English marine ecologist, discover the culprits of these attacks: giant blood-sucking beasts that have emerged from the sea. Whilst dealing with the monsters and wondering how to protect the island, the team come to a rather peculiar conclusion thanks to the "town drunk" on how to fend off and repel these invaders, and it may involve mass consumption of a familiar substance.


Speaking of taking shots, if Dead Sushi was today's selection for dinner, then Ireland's Grabbers serves as a fairly nice dessert. No, wait, it would be more appropriate to call this a strong pint or three to go along with your meal. I first became aware of this oddball horror-comedy thanks to the now-defunct, brilliant, and sorely missed Spill.com. A mention of this being the foreign equivalent to the 1990 monster flick Tremors caught my attention almost instantly, though I've heard that statement more times than I've ever cared to. True, that also drew me to a movie I like and now own in The Burrowers, but in the end, I feel that I will forever be a natural skeptic.


Even to the blind and/or deaf populace, it's fairly obvious that Grabbers was strongly influenced by Tremors, and unabashedly more so than the American-made The Burrowers ever was. It wears its adoration for the cult movie on both sleeves, and don't be offended if you can pinpoint specific scenes that were structured to be eerily similar to the franchise that introduced us to the underground creatures dubbed "Graboids." Hell, even the nickname given to the beasts is similar! But as I've said before, this isn't a ripoff as much as it is a love letter. Helping out is the recollection that the Irish possess a very underrated (and often unappreciated) sense of humor. Because of this, and I'm going to sound just a wee bit blasphemous, I actually found Grabbers to be slightly funnier than its forefather. *gasp*


Cast-wise, there aren't as many people that you'd have to worry about caring for since most of the film focuses on the duo of Ruth Bradley and Richard Coyle (who could be mistaken for Andy Serkis in another life). The latter doesn't lack any wit or intelligence, even if he is often mistaken as just a typical, sad drunk who lost most of what made him happy in life. His partner, the lovely Ruth Bradley, is fairly plain jane until the time comes for her to partake in drinking (around the latter half of its running time), thus breaking her free from a life of sobriety. After that, many of the movie's best and more memorably hilarious lines come from her slurring, silly childish charm. Don't worry though, because despite the fact that it is clearly stated that beer and whiskey help stave off any harm from these tentacled nightmares (don't get angry, it's in the bloody description box on Netflix), I'm almost certain that this movie does not encourage rampant drinking or alcoholism.


My gosh does it encourage wanting a baby grabber toy though. Well, that's what I came away with. Mind you, I don't care to own the real thing, since they'll try to feast on you and suck your blood. But a plush toy sure would be grand. Oh crap, I got sidetracked for a moment there. Well, erm, where was I? Ah yes. Grabbers certainly isn't going to go down as a classic by any means, but it's the furthest thing from bollocks and I could see some of the more uptight modern horror fans (the ones who claim that there's nothing good out there anymore but aren't looking hard enough) enjoying it too. Jon Wright's alcoholic monster mash makes for a jolly good time considering how much was done well with a paltry budget.



And perhaps I'm biased, but any motion picture that suggests feeding a priest to a monster because "unless it eats shit, it'll choke to death" gets an automatic three stars from me.



Tomorrow, it's time to enter into a two-on-one match with wrestling-themed horror films Overtime and See No Evil!

Heaven Is For Real (2014) & God's Not Dead (2014) Movie Reviews

Oh boy, a double dose of Christian-based motion pictures that clearly aren't marketed towards someone of my background and (lack of) beliefs? This could make for a rather interesting experience. Mind you, "interesting" could turn into "infuriating" within a shockingly short amount of time, but I tend to approach any film, no matter the genre, with an open mind. I'd also like to mention that I'm not an atheist (I lean towards agnosticism), so I will try my absolute best to refrain from bringing up anything in the realm of arguments based around organized religion. Hell, I'm willing to think that if parts of the tables were turned in these films, it would still mean that my opinions stay largely the same. Instead, I will try to judge these solely as movies, nothing more, and nothing less.

Keep in mind, I did say "try."

Nebraska native and pastor Todd Burpo lives a relatively good and calm life. In between time spent preaching at Sunday services, he plays softball with his friends and other churchgoers, takes his family for fun trips in and out of town, and is generally loved by all around him. One evening, his youngest son, Colton Burpo, goes in for sudden and unexpected emergency surgery. Once out, Colton begins to describe events of seeing Jesus Christ himself, and even brings up knowledge from Todd's own past that was never disclosed to his son. Perturbed and amazed, the pastor attempts to understand and share his son's unbelievable, yet possibly true story with the rest of the world.

If you aren't familiar with the concept and reportedly "true" story behind the rather oddly-titled Heaven Is For Real, you'd assume that it's actually a hilariously-titled Christian Hip-Hop record. Sadly, I think that idea would have made for a more compelling result than what I ended up watching recently. True, Heaven isn't necessarily a terrible film, but it drowns under its own layers of schmaltz, topped with a heaping dose of utter boredom.

Of the two pictures I'm choosing to talk about today, I feel like this one contained the more relevant of casts. For starters, Academy Award nominee Greg Kinnear plays Pastor Burpo (try saying that character's name and refrain from laughing. Trust me, it isn't particularly easy), and while he certainly seems to be trying his best for a motion picture with a very niche fanbase, he speaks like he was kicked out of a TED Talks taping because he was constantly spouting gibberish and nonsensical jargon. When he isn't busy acting like an odd fellow, he acts like an ignorant asshole, even going so far as to flat out say to a gathering of people that his son was most likely seeing things, and thusly could not have caught even a slight peek of the afterlife. This wouldn't be such a big issue had his son not been in the same room and it wasn't in HIS OWN CHURCH while these statements were uttered. Furthermore, it doesn't help that most of his supporting cast seems to have learned how to act by pulling their lessons out of a Cracker Jack box. And oh boy, if you'd like to talk about acting, I was absolutely perplexed by Thomas Haden Church's presence in a film like this. Perhaps this was karma and/or payback for 2007's Spider-Man 3? Again, Church is a fine actor (and also a fellow Academy Award nominee), and is also attempting to salvage what he can, but he doesn't have much time to show that his character, a man who has been Burpo's close friend for many years, has any layers, or even evolves or devolves with certain events going on around him. Kelly Reilly of Sherlock Holmes and Above Suspicion fame plays Kinnear's wife, and what the English actress lacks in screen time, she more than makes up for by emoting far too much or too little, and the woman loses her American accent towards the final act. All of this negativity and mediocrity seems to affect son Colton as well, and there are times when the young man looks legitimately embarrassed to be in a movie that even the Lifetime Network would have hesitations with airing. 

Let's move on to the main gist of Heaven Is For Real. I felt like it just doesn't do much in the way of interesting plot elements and even moves at a rather sluggish pace. The most amount of excitement we receive is during the act when young Colton goes in for surgery, and one glance at the poster or plot synopsis from any site on the world wide web gives away anything that could have been truly rousing. Even the brief glimpses of Jesus himself remind you too much of the constantly disguised and hidden body of villainous Dr. Claw from the television series Inspector Gadget, though according to writer and director Randall Wallace, who previously helped write the infamous Pearl Harbor, the lord and savior looks like the absolutely sadistic and demented Kruger from Elysium (post-upgrade). Instead, the most intriguing element of this flick comes from the blatant shilling of another popular franchise. Throughout the entirety of this "true" story, an absurd amount of Spider-Man references can be found. This includes a closeup on an action figure during the aforementioned surgery and hospital sequence, numerous utterances of the character's name from Kinnear himself, and even a poster of his debut comic, "Amazing Fantasy #15," in Colton's room. You might be asking why this is a big deal to someone like me. Normally, the geek in me wouldn't have felt so besmirched by such a thing, but this Christian drama piece is distributed by Sony Pictures, the company who helped release The Amazing Spider-Man & The Amazing Spider-Man 2. I get that you have to help appease your masters, and I understand the need for advertisement in dire times, but considering that a trailer for the latter prefaced the DVD that I rented from the Redbox, it came across as incredibly juvenile and just plain annoying. It borders on Transformers-levels of douchebaggery and shamelessness.

So yes, I wasn't exactly fanatical about Heaven Is For Real, but save for my complaints about the shilling of ol' webhead and his own movie franchise, it did very little to anger me or register itself on the infamous "worst of" list. It mostly just drags on and on, and unless you're incredibly devout, I could see you getting just as frustrated for its lack of pacing and constant "maybe he did, maybe he didn't, maybe it was DMT" exchanges. Okay, the latter part of that quote isn't directly discussed, but it would make for a more logical explanation than anything else out there. I'm honestly shocked that this didn't go straight-to-ABC Family or even just the bargain bin and walls of giant corporate chains such as Walmart. I'll give credit where credit is due though: if you have friends, be they religious or not, it could make for a rather fun "riffing."

Ten points to whoever spouts this Heathers quote first.

And now, I feel I must take on a different, although only slightly brighter font, in order to put focus on part two of these reviews.

Josh Wheaton, a new college student and outspoken devout Christian, signs up for a philosophy class taught by the notoriously staunch and hardened Professor Jeffrey Radisson, an outspoken atheist. During the first day of class, Radisson requires that his students sign a paper which proclaims that "God Is Dead." Not surprisingly, Josh refuses, stating that he believes this is wrong and radically inaccurate. With his insistency that he is right and the new, young man is incorrect, the professor schedules a series of debates, in which the students will decide on whether the popular deity is real, or just a figment of our imagination.

Remember when I said that I was going to try and keep discussion of religion out of these two reviews? I am afraid that my promise from so long ago shall not last. It's a shame too, because I believe it is nearly impossible to judge God's Not Dead as a film by itself, solely because distributor Pure Flix (one has to wonder what they specialize in) are subliminally telling you that it isn't a movie at all. While Heaven Is For Real wasn't completely trying to force its own beliefs down the viewer's throat, director Harold Cronk's product which insists that the viewer should "never stop believing" is one of the most utterly disgusting and awful motion pictures that I have laid eyes upon since I became a legal adult. And I'm going to be twenty-nine within a month and a half.

Within the first ten minutes of God's Not Dead, you can count the cliches of Right-Wing Evangelical thinking, even if your own eyesight is faulty. First, there's the anti-Muslim rhetoric, based around a young woman attending college who is afraid that her father, and even her own family, will disown and possibly physically abuse her (which does occur) should they discover that she secretly yearns to become a Christian. This utterly stupid and naive ideology is made out to be even more ridiculous by her brother catching her reading scriptures on her tablet. She reacts in the same manner as you would when a parent catches you masturbating…..not that such a thing has happened to me of course. There are several occurrences of bashing liberals and animal rights activists, which includes an appearance by one of the cast members of Duck Dynasty (who have made it nearly impossible to live in the south if you're of the bearded variety), nontheism, and even cultures who aren't exposed to religion whatsoever (a young college student from China who has never heard of any of this balderdash). How incredibly classy!

I won't waste much time talking about the acting, because clearly they weren't making any of the performances the main focal point. If I can summarize it in two separate sentences, it would be these: if you ever dreamed of watching Superman (Dean Cain) and Hercules (Kevin Sorbo) play a pair of smug atheists with ill will and awful consciences, then dive right in. I personally didn't think it was possible for these two to sink lower than Meet The Spartans and The Dog Who Saved Christmas, but they surpassed my expectations with flying, vibrant colors. In terms of the actual characters themselves, there is not a single likable or realistic human being to be found, and more subplots that leave the viewer either confused or irritated, since all it essentially ends up being used as a giant advertisement for concert by the somehow popular christian rock band called "The Newsboys," who all resemble graduates of a camp that "prays the gay away." Even Josh, your so-called student "hero" of the picture, comes across just as smug as his atheist rival (Sorbo) once the debating begins. Thusly, I'd like to tell him to go stick his opinions, they of the "same old, same old" variety and repetitious apologist nonsense, so far up his ass that it comes out of his mouth. And ending your final debate with the question of "Why do you hate God?" is the ultimate middle finger to an audience with a remote amount of intelligence on either side of the argument.

Speaking of intelligence, I would love to hear about what inspired these writers (it took THREE MEN to write a script that any single individual could have written just by sitting down and reading one book in a public library or watching a video from apologist John Lennox) to come up with lines and exchanges that unintentionally captures the same aura and awkwardness of cult classics like Tommy Wiseau's The Room. Then again, two of these men also helped co-write the 2001 television remake of Earth Vs. The Spider, so expecting quality from this collection of human beings may have been like expecting gourmet pizza from Little Caesar's. Upon further thinking, there is a possibility that most of the dialogue was ghostwritten by Billy and Franklin Graham, with supervision by the thankfully rotting Jerry Falwell. Its blatant "Christians good, Atheists bad!" message is less subtle than being beaten over the head with a bible by a sweater-clad man with Christopher Hitchens' and Richard Dawkins' faces X'd out on the front. Afterwards, this same man proceeds to throw holy water into your eyes until you've gone blind. By the time you have recovered from your injuries, you're dealt a larger blow in the form of the main character's ostensibly offensive statement of "evil is the main weapon to be used by atheists against Christians." Oh dear lord. You're down again, but not before you shout this at the top of your lungs.

The only positive thing that one person such as myself can say about God's Not Dead is that in a very warped way, it did actually inspire me. I craved motivation to write more reviews, be they good or bad, as focus on work and my own personal issues had been delaying me more often than not. Thankfully, God's' own sheer idiocy and arrogance could be the cure for anyone suffering from writer's block, no matter your field. It is the first film that I've ever seen that made me wonder out loud "Gee, maybe those two movies I watched all of those years ago with the Insane Clown Posse as the leads weren't so bad after all!" My goodness, I really do loathe this film and every single human being involved in it.

Well, except for the two guys who hit Kevin Sorbo with their car in the final ten minutes. That was kind of awesome.

A Double Dose of WWE Studios: The Call (2013) Review & Dead Man Down (2013) Review

It occurred to me the other day that we're past the halfway point of 2013, and this blog has been conspicuously empty for the most part. As I pointed out in my Pacific Rim review, however, I just haven't been thrilled by the release schedule this year when it comes to major motion pictures. That won't stop me from attempting to catch up to fellow moviegoers though. So one trip to the Redbox later, and BAM! We're back on track. I'll work on further reviews in the coming days as well, but for now, we have two pictures with the backing of WWE Studios (yes this is a real thing) to tackle.

Six months after a traumatic incident in the past drove her from her profession of several years, a veteran 9-1-1 operator receives a call from a recently kidnapped teenage girl. Hoping to prevent a repeat of the past, she takes the call and thus begins an effort to save the young lady.

First off, a big wag of the finger to WWE Studios for not using the Mr. McMahon theme a single time throughout its ninety minute running time. Let's be honest, it would have fit in perfectly at any point, regardless of the subject matter.

In all seriousness though, The Call has the potential to be just another motion picture that could have been rejected by the Lifetime Network. It has all the makings of one of their films:

-Evil male antagonist? Check.
-Girl(s) in danger? Check.
-Needless and pointless side characters, including one played by jobber David Otunga? Check.
-Dialogue that belongs in an evening crime drama show? Check.
-Tacked on "Girl Power!" message? Check.


Shockingly, however, something about The Call works. At least, by rental standards. That something could be the surprisingly decent performances from Halle Berry and Abigail Breslin. I feel somewhat bad for the former, as her stature in Hollywood has certainly been knocked down a few pegs over the years, and she's proven to be a capable actress when she needs to be. The script calls for her to be tense in all the right moments, and unsure of herself at all of the others. While her character does seem to rebound rather quickly after the film's initial kidnapping sequence/murder (and I'm not talking about the six month gap), it doesn't take you out of the film. Breslin plays kidnap victim #2, and spends most of her time looking panicked or acting terrified. To be fair, if you were in her shoes, you'd most likely be acting the same way. I've never heard of a kidnap victim acting remarkably calm, and chances are that if they were, they'd be in on the act itself.


For the first two thirds of The Call, the film has the viewer's attention, even with its obvious flaws and fairly predictable outline. This brings me to the collective turd in the punchbowl: its third act. I've never seen a thriller take such a dive in terms of quality so quickly. I wonder if this may have been tacked on from another unfinished project, as it feels like a completely different film altogether and delves into the realm of the absurd. Our resident scumbag kidnapper is played by Michael Eklund, who looks like Ethan Hawke after serving hard time for a drug bust. There are attempts to humanize the guy along the way, but I don't think any of them worked particularly well, and all seemed somewhat unnecessary. Couple that with some absolutely ridiculous twists that unravel over time related to the character, plus a rather abrupt (and out of character) ending, and it ends up turning the third act into contrived garbage that is derivative of better thrillers.


Hmm.....perhaps it isn't too radically different from a Lifetime Channel film after all, save for the additional moments of surprising violence and the occasional vulgar word (hearing the little girl from Little Miss Sunshine call someone a "motherfucker" is quite amusing). Well, regardless, this is a fun rental or future Netflix viewing, but I can only recommend it with caution.


Maybe a more well known cast can bring me out of the funk that the last third of The Call left me in...

Victor, a crime boss' right hand man, finds himself intrigued by his female neighbor, who wishes for him to assist in exacting revenge on the man who scarred her in a car accident. After she attempts to blackmail him into committing the hit, she slowly discovers his past, and we learn that all is not what it seems, with Victor's position within the crime syndicate holding many secrets.



Why do you do this to me Colin Farrell? Every time you get back on my good side with a picture like Seven Psychopaths, you end up dumping a mess like Dead Man Down in my lap. *sigh* If that plot synopsis sounds a bit on the basic or simplistic side, it may be because describing this picture without spoiling anything is nearly impossible. For that matter, piecing together the actual film itself can be a real task. I contemplated if the writers had snorted too much cocaine while writing the initial draft, and when they came down from their high, they forgot to add logic, interesting characters, or action.


For starters, nothing in Dead Man Down seems like it could have existed in the real world, despite it trying to be somewhat based in it. There is a sequence of Colin Farrell opening fire in an open area from above that brings about no consequence, and no police. This also leads to an action scene involving a building and several murders, and yet again, nothing. Noomi Rapace's character is the subject of a very odd side plot involving her character being physically scarred from a car accident so badly, that all the neighborhood kids taunt (and even throw rocks at) her, calling her a monster. This wouldn't be a problem if Rapace still didn't look like an attractive woman, and if her scars were more visible. But they aren't. It just seemed like an awkward plot device that doesn't really go anywhere and is just plain badly used. She also points out in the beginning act that it legitimately hurts for her to smile, which they also seem to forget about rather quickly.


Speaking of the talented Ms. Rapace, she and Dominic Cooper seem to be the only ones really trying to get the best they can from this mess of a script, even if the latter's character did feel like a reject from The Departed. As for the others, Farrell just has nothing to work with, and neither does Terrance Howard, who I'm sure is still regretting not choosing to continue on as James Rhodes/War Machine in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. As cruel as it may sound, don't be shocked if within a few years, the man starts appearing in Asylum films like Sharknado vs. Gatorquake. In Farrell's case, you just feel bad for the actor himself rather than his character, since we've seen types like Victor in nearly every type of thriller/crime movie out there.


There are two lines halfway through Dead Man Down (coincidentally when it attempts to finally give the audience an explanation for any confusion we've been witnessing) that can perfectly sum up the film better than I ever could:

CF: Now you know everything.
NR: No. No, I don't.


Ultimately, this one was way too slow and pieced together too awkwardly for me to recommend, even to diehard fans of these actors. Hell, even wrestler Wade Barrett doesn't have much to do, especially during the "too little, too late" final action sequence. Stick with any other revenge thriller released within the past few years, like I Saw The Devil, Taken or even Quentin Tarantino's recent works.

Evil Dead (2013) Review

Five friends travel to an abandoned cabin in the woods, in order to help one of them go cold turkey. Soon, they discover a strange, and seemingly evil book, the Necronomicon, and proceed to read an incantation from its pages. Almost immediately, demonic presences are awakened, and soon the inhabitants find themselves fighting for their lives (and fighting each other) in hopes that they may escape in one piece.

When the news broke that we were set to receive a reboot/remake of Sam Raimi's classic 1981 horror film Evil Dead, I cringed. While I don't wholly hate the idea of remaking films, I detest unnecessary ones. Then, when news broke that Diablo Cody, whose previous writing credits included Juno and Jennifer's Body, was set to write the script, I was convinced all hope was lost. However, there was still the light at the end of the tunnel. Sam Raimi and original star Bruce Campbell, were signed on as producers, and essentially, were told to oversee the entire project, to ensure that nothing would go awry.

I'll just come right out and say it: Evil Dead is the best horror remake I've seen since 2004's Dawn of the Dead. Hell, I think it actually surpasses that film. While it doesn't add anything to the original trilogy, you could argue that it will help more than harm its legacy. It is an overall fantastic, and above all, entertaining experience. Time is of the essence as of this review's typing, so I'll just move on to what I enjoyed about this picture.

The cast is all rather strong, with lead actress Jane Levy, playing the junkie Mia, easily stealing the show (and potentially this bearded reviewer's heart). She's able to go through nearly every emotion possible without any of them seeming weak, and pulls off being possessed better than any recent actress I've seen. I'm not sure I'd ever seen Shiloh Fernandez in anything prior to his role as David, Mia's brother, but his feelings for his sister's well being seem genuine, and he's the furthest thing from an Ash clone, whose traits seemed to be mixed in with most of the cast rather than one individual. Same with Eric, played by Lou Taylor Pucci, who must be the most durable human being on the planet. All the tossing around and pain endured by the original trilogy's performers seems to be nothing compared to what this poor bastard goes through. Come to think of it, everyone here gets a thorough beating, and they (or rather, their stuntmen/women) must be commended for it.

If you're a gorehound, there is a lot to gush over in 2013's Evil Dead, pun possibly intentional. There's a plethora of scenes that will make even the most hardened of individuals cringe, including scenes of dismemberment, tongue defilement, and many more. True, the remake's tree rape sequence doesn't seem as horrific as it did in the original, but tree rape is tree rape after all. Major props must be given to the effects crew, who decided to go with traditional effects work rather than rely on the easier, and more often despised choice, of CGI. True, there are some CGI shots peppered in here and there, but they're barely noticeable, and don't detract from the fun.

Now here's where everyone expects me to find some faults, as I can do with nearly every film (even my favorites). But, with maybe the exception of a finale that did feel obviously written by Diablo Cody, and a somewhat slow beginning act, I can't think of anything to truly dislike about this film. Hell, there's even homages to the original trilogy that don't seem forced, and it gets the vibe of the first film down fairly well.

To those who are still nervous or are forever naysayers, I say give this a chance. It won't surpass the original film by any means, but it is far from a bad movie, and one example about how to do a remake properly. I wouldn't be opposed to owning this in my DVD/Blu-Ray collection someday, and I won't hesitate to recommend this to any horror fan.

Unseen Terror 2012: Day 24

While cutting class one day, high school friends Rickie and J.T. make their way to an abandoned mental hospital. After some digging around, they discover a naked woman chained to a table in the basement. Rickie suggests they get the poor woman out, but J.T., through some "experiences" with the woman now nicknamed "Deadgirl," discovers that she is also incapable of dying, and has other plans in mind.


A quick message to my friends reading this: If I ever get this desperate for pussy, please lock me up and throw away the key.

You know how some movie posters immediately catch your attention and can never quite leave your mind? Deadgirl's has always stuck with me since I first saw the image while working at Hollywood Video. Unfortunately, our only copies at the time were rented and never returned, so I had to wait for some time to finally get around for a viewing. And the final verdict? S'alright.

The two leads...actually, scratch that, damn near every character, aren't particularly well written, and I never got the feeling that these two were ever friends to begin with, even if some forced expositional dialogue in the final twenty minutes tries to tell you otherwise. Jenny Spain is our title "creature," and even through she's speaking in nothing but grunts and the occasional scream, easily steals the show from everyone around her. She's probably the only living being (using that term loosely) worth rooting for here, as this doesn't really have too many likable characters to speak of. Even Rickie, our hero, comes across as a bit too weird to identify with, and Shiloh Fernandez's flat acting certainly isn't helping him. Makes you nervous for how he's going to do in the Evil Dead remake, doesn't it?

It is very likely that Deadgirl's ending will divide a lot of folks, seeing as how it does contain a complete 180 from what was previously established, but I'd say it made perfect sense considering some of the last words that are uttered by a certain character. It's one of those "Fuck You!" conclusions, but with an additional "No, Fuck YOU!" towards the very end. A bit confusing, but satisfying in a sick sort of way.

Deadgirl is an absolutely flawed film, and I think it could have been handled extremely well in the hands of a more experienced director, but the final product really isn't all that bad. If you're sensitive about rape in horror films, this could get under your skin. Doing back-to-back screenings of this and the previously reviewed The Woman will probably leave you hating the human race for the remainder of your day.

Tomorrow, we're still stuck in 2008, and this time make a trip to Canada with PONTYPOOL.