Archive for 2004

Into the Sun

Friday, December 31st, 2004

Howdy boys,

It’s been a while since I wrote anything for The Ain’t It Cool News. But the time has arrived. Once or twice, maybe three or four times a year, however often it is that Steven Seagal comes out with a new straight to video picture, it is my sworn duty to give you boys a holler. As you know I am one of North America’s leading Seagalogists, and I have found that your place is a good forum for sharing my initial findings as the new works are rolled out for study.

The new one coming February 15th is INTO THE SUN, a Yakuza thriller set in Japan, which is often a good place for Yakuza thrillers in my opinion. This is by no means a comeback for Seagal (he’s been here for years, etc.) but it does have a couple things that make it rise above the recent batch of OUT OF REACH, OUT FOR A KILL, and THE FOREIGNER (also BELLY OF THE BEAST but I won’t lump that in since it’s probaly the craziest and most entertaining of them):

  1. Production value. It feels more like a real movie. The opening scene alone has five elephants and a helicopter. Just 3 elephants probaly cost more than that whole pen pal movie OUT OF REACH. It’s filmed on location in Japan and Thailand and some of it even looks good. There’s one real good shot of Seagal walking through a pachinko parlor and also a real artful overhead shot of a sword fight.
  2. Decent cast. Most of them speak horrible English, but they’re better than the euro-trash cheeseballs he’s been fighting in some of the recent ones. Ken Lo is one of the bad guys. William Atherton is in there, for whatever that’s worth. And there’s kind of a Seagal’s Angels thing going on here with a trio of hotties – a young sword fighter that for some reason volunteers to be his “shield,” a CIA/FBI/orsomething covert operative named Jewel, and Seagal’s strip club owner fiancee (more on that later, that’s good). Chiaki “Gogo Yubari” Kuriyama is also in it as the governor’s daughter. Her part is, she is standing on a balcony next to the governor for about 15 seconds. (At least they didn’t put her on the cover.)
  3. Speaking of which, this is his best cover in years. Okay, so it has nothing to do with the movie at all. There is no scene in the movie where Seagal struts cockily away from a gigantic fiery car explosion with a novelty oversized machine gun strapped to his back. But it’s a nice badass gesture, better than those generic collages with the CIA logos in the background. Good to see some yellow in there, anyway.
  4. Seagal seems to have his heart in it more. He wrote the story and co-wrote the script (his first story credit since his very first movie, ABOVE THE LAW) and he puts some of his favorite things in there. In the opening scene he blows a big CIA drug smuggler bust to stop a woman from being assaulted, just like in OUT FOR JUSTICE when he blew a bust to stop a pimp from beating a hooker. His character sells Japanese swords (something Vanity Fair says he is actually an expert in), he gets to speak more Japanese than ever before, and he gets in a good swipe at CIA disinformation (another ABOVE THE LAW similarity). There’s even a reference to his daughter, Ayako Fujitani, when he slaughters a roomful of gangsters while they’re watching one of her Gamera movies. And it took me a minute to figure it out but on the end credits, sure enough, that’s Seagal singing! I mean I gotta be honest, there is alot of focus on the Japanese characters, and long stretches that are completely Seagal-less. So he is probaly still only working part time. But at least he seems like he’s trying when he’s on screen, and I didn’t notice any parts dubbed over by other actors.
  5. More energetic, less gloomy. The director is mink, who if anybody had ever heard of him would be known for his lower case letters and for directing the Busta Rhymes movie FULL CLIP (Check my review here!!!). IMDb says Christian Duguay directed it but what do they know, anyway. Point is, the look and feel are much more involving and professional than, well, mainly the last one.

(more…)

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Ocean’s Twelve

Friday, December 10th, 2004

OCEAN’S 12 is a sequel to OCEAN’S 11 (the 2001 version [not the movie 2001, I am referring to the year 2001, the year the movie OCEAN'S 11 was made {the remake, not the original, that is why I brought up this year thing originally}]) so this will be the sequel to my review of that movie.

It turns out that the eleven do NOT die horribly as I predicted. But their past (the other movie) does catch up with them, and the sequel is all about them doing various heists in order to pay back the money, plus interest, that they stole the first time around. So that means that Ocean’s 11 actually have a net loss across the two pictures. I mean, think about that. That’s terrible! What does that say about the current state of doing a job right? You want to do the impossible, so you bring in 11 of the greatest experts from around the world, you pull it off, you win back your ex-wife, and you have a fun time doing it. And your reward is horrendous debt and threat of life and limb. That’s how this world rewards you for ambition, talent and dedication.

That’s kind of a bummer in a caper movie where you expect each one to be a bigger and better heist. But it’s nice to be able to have another ending that’s not one of the standard caper movies endings (A: they get away with it and are last seen chilling on a beach somewhere; B: they almost get away but die tragically, probaly ironically.) At the very least this movie will probaly be a big inspiration to those of you with large credit card debts.

As you know from my original O11 review, I was already ready for a sequel. And I always pictured it as a tighter version of 011, maybe a little harder. As much as I enjoyed that movie it was no THE LIMEY or OUT OF SIGHT which are the movies that really told me this Steve Soderbergh was capable of a top notch crime picture. I thought they would follow the same basic formula of Part 11 but with the characters already introduced, they would be able to have a more detailed and realistic look at a heist, maybe some gritty everything-goes-sour type business, who knows. But with the same charismatic cast and bouncy sense of humor and funky David Holmes soundtrack. (more…)

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Full Clip

Wednesday, December 1st, 2004

NOTE: I sent this one into The Ain’t It Cool News, but they never ran it. Almost as if they didn’t give a fuck about a new straight to video movie starring Busta Rhymes. I don’t know what the deal is.

Howdy fellas,

Vern over here on the direct to video beat again, looking for flecks of gold in a mountain of crap. Well that’s my excuse most of the time but this time I’m doing a little bit of research. My last review on here was OUT OF REACH starring Steven Seagal, and I found out that some of the individuals over on steven-seagal.net were pretty upset at me for saying Seagal “looks like Bigfoot wearing a bad Dracula wig.” So to make it up to them I’m doing some footwork for them, looking into this director called “Mink” who is supposed to be directing Seagal in an allegedly theatrical Yakuza themed movie called INTO THE SUN. (Note the three word title again.)

Before that “Mink” did this little DTV rapper vehicle FULL CLIP which puts Busta Rhymes into a very basic blaxploitation kind of story. That sounds pretty bad but this one actually has a decent pedigree for DTV, because it’s written by this guy Kantz who directed LOVE AND A BULLET, one of the more surprisingly watchable straight to video movies I’ve reviewed on here.

When it hit the opening credits, I thought this one might be on the LOVE AND A BULLET level of not that badness. The opening has Busta walking through a building with two guns, massacring everybody in sight like some video game that would be popular with the people who read this sight but that I wouldn’t know about until they made it into a movie. It just seems mindless but then the first line in the movie is a voiceover where Busta says, “In case y’all wonderin, I didn’t start this shit. But I’m sure as hell gonna finish it.” Then it goes to the credits and to the story leading up to the massacre. Seems promising. (more…)

National Treasure

Friday, November 19th, 2004

Well you gotta find something to be proud of your country for, and right now reality sure as shit ain’t doin’ the trick. As I’m writing this we’re lookin down the barrel of four more years of Bush. There are signs of vote fraud starting to peek their heads out, but since it wouldn’t necessarily change who the president is, everybody seems to figure eh, screw it. They just massacred the shit out of innocent people in Fallujah, only to move the rebels into Mosul and Baghdad, so now there will be more massacres. Meanwhile, Bush continues to stick an electrode up the ass of the concept of accountability, promoting everybody he can think of who has fucked up bad. National security adviser has destroyed our national security? Make her secretary of state! White House lawyer wrote the infamous memo arguing that torture is great and the Geneva Conventions are for pussies? Make him attorney general! As we speak they are trying to track down Joseph Hazelwood to head up the EPA and Mothers Against Drunk Driving.

I mean I love my country. But my country is being a real bitch right now. Don’t worry, I never hit a country in my life. But my country is getting up in my face trying to provoke me right now and I guess I just gotta leave the apartment for a while to cool off.

So I head to the movie theater because if there’s one man who knows how to blow smoke up America’s ass, it’s Jerry Bruckheimer. Now I’m not stupid. I seen Armageddon and a number of these other shitpiles this individual is responsible for. I knew what I was in for and I can take my lumps like a man. But this one sounded so god damn retarded it seemed like it would be worth my time. I guess. Well, it seemed to make sense at the time.

The ads tell us NATIONAL TREASURE is “from director John Turteltaub,” who it turns out is some dude who directed 3 NINJAS and COOL RUNNINGS. But in the tradition of Dick Cheney, the real man in charge here is Bruckheimer, who just Bruckheimers the shit out of this movie. Not in the sense of quick cuts and fetishistic gazing on heat trails and sunsets and crap. More in the sense that he takes the dumbest possible premise and is sure to tell it in the way that is most annoying and insulting to the audience. (more…)

Seed of Chucky

Friday, November 12th, 2004

Well judging from the low turnout for this picture in its first couple weeks, I might be the only one. But DAMN if I don’t love BRIDE OF CHUCKY. THat was the amazing slasher sequel landmark where the former Hong Kong director Ronny Yu knocked the CHILD’S PLAY series off into a weirdo direction where the killer doll suddenly gets a killer doll wife and it turns into a silly comedy, but with occasional moments of visual poetry courtesy of future oscar winning cinematographist Peter fucking Pau.

Now if you’re like me you remember the very end of BRIDE OF CHUCKY, suddenly a little sharp-toothed baby chucky pops out. It’s like the traditional sudden-jolt-ending used in every horror movie since CARRIE, but at the same time it’s a funny joke because you just KNOW it means we’re gonna get a SON OF CHUCKY some day. Or SEED OF CHUCKY it turns out due to the ambiguous gender of the baby.

SEED OF CHUCKY is the first movie in history to open inside Chucky’s penis, in a computer generated sequence about the actual Seed of Chucky having a go at the Egg of Tiffany, then growing into a baby. Then we skip forward and find the baby at the World Ventriloquism Championships in London. It turns out some random British punk rock fake-ventriloquist found the seed of chucky in the cemetery after BRIDE OF CHUCKY ended. The poor little doll is now living a Charles Dickens style childhood in a cage in London. His name is Shitface and he has the voice of LORD OF THE RINGS hobbit Billy Boyd as he tells us about his sorry existence in a hilarious voiceover.

It turns out the Chucky and Tiffany dolls have been somehow repaired (no explanation needed or offered) and are being used as puppets to star in a movie about their lives. The baby Chucky finds out and journeys to Hollywood where he accidentally does a voodoo spell to resurrect them, and also speaks Japanese to them (long story). (more…)

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The Polar Express

Wednesday, November 10th, 2004

THE POLAR EXPRESS 3-D IMAX SPOOKARAMA

A few years back I wrote a piece called FINAL FANTASY: THE SPIRITS WITHIN (working title: BORING: THE MOVIE). It is available on this web sight as well as in my collection 5 On the Outside. In the piece I talked about the wrongness of computer animators trying to create photorealistic human characters. I argued that no matter how real they looked they would never look completely real, because they wouldn’t be able to walk quite right, or have a human soul, etc. I guess I didn’t mention it in that piece but there was a scene in the movie where two realistic human characters kissed, and it was like watching mannequins go at it.

(For your information, there’s a porno called REAL DOLL: THE MOVIE where pornographic professionals like Ron Jeremy stick their penises inside ten thousand dollar silicone sex dummies. That movie is disturbing in a different way from FINAL FANTASY because the dolls are not moving and their faces don’t look alive. So it looks like these guys are having their way with dead bodies. But picture two of the dolls going at it with no animate objects involved. Then picture a rated PG version of that. That’s the scene in FINAL FANTASY, I guess. It’s not natural.)

Well nobody seemed to care back then but now many of the ideas I presented in that piece have worked their way into the mainstream, as reviewers of the new computerfied Robert Zemeckis Christmas fantasy THE POLAR EXPRESS have criticized the creepy, dead eyed look of its overly realistic computerized cartoon characters. Japanese roboticists have even expanded on my theories, calling it “the uncanny valley” where your ability to relate to a robot or cartoon character suddenly plunges as it gets closer to humanity. So Mickey Mouse is our buddy but final fantasies give us the willies. (more…)

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Garfield

Sunday, November 7th, 2004

the asshole cat

Man, what a fuckin week. On Tuesday Bush got either “re”-elected or re-”elected,” and I’ve been stumbling around muttering to myself ever since. Stabbing at my porridge with my spoon, staring blankly out the window, mouthing the word “why” to myself over and over again. One thing I know, there are some things in this world that just cannot be explained. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. Sometimes people vote for a president that couldn’t be trusted to put on his own pants. And sometimes a guy gets the blue state blues, walks around town in a daze, suddenly finds himself at home having rented the movie “GARFIELD,” not really knowing how or why. I know for a fact this happens because you’re lookin at the guy who it happened to. Me. It was weird.

What this is is a movie based on the popular comic strip from the 1980s called Garfield. Like all comic strips it is not funny and about a talking animal. This is a cat called Garfield who is orange. The thing about Garfield, he is real fucking fat, he eats lasagna. That’s funny because real cats eat cat food, but this one also eats lasagna. Also he says “I hate Mondays” at the beginning although this does not turn out to be important. But it is that sort of detailed characterization that makes him, you know, Garfield. I guess.

I mean, think about it. Why the fuck is a cat gonna hate mondays. Especially this particular cat, this Garfield. What he does, he sleeps, he eats, etc. For a cat, even a talking, dancing asshole cat like this, he is not gonna give a fuck if it’s Tuesday, Thursday, the 12th of February, anything. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have to work. He doesn’t have to get out of bed. Every day of the year is the weekend to him. There is no beginning of the week for a cat with that particular lazy asshole cat type of lifestyle. Even when he is expected to eat a mouse, he just fakes it. There is no fuckin reason this cat even knows what Monday is, let alone hates it. And yet he says it explicitly that he hates Mondays. You see. That is why it is funny. Because why would he hate Mondays. Oh, that Garfield the asshole cat. He hates Mondays. (more…)

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ANGRY DISPATCH FROM THE UPPER LEFT CORNER

Friday, November 5th, 2004

Somewhere in the blue-colored upper left corner of the map, under a horrible black cloud, we find Vern, chewing on his fist.

Well, shit.

Let me start by saying to the rest of the world, IT WASN’T ME, MAN. I had nothing to do with this. I can’t justify this but please don’t think this is all of us. It’s nobody I know, none of my friends, none of my family. It’s nobody that writes to me. Whoever these people are who are rewarding that type of behavior, who saw 4 years of horror and corruption and said, yeah, give me more of that… I seen some of them on TV but that’s it.

You know, I was really hoping to travel to other countries some day in my lifetime without having to look over my shoulder thinking, is that guy looking at my head? Does that guy want to cut off my head? And now these people go and make it look like America approves of Bush. It’s like when you’re sitting at a bar (not me, I don’t drink anymore) and you’re making small talk with the guy next to you, somebody you never met before. And you’re having a good conversation, then all the sudden the guy throws in some joke about jews or koreans or something, maybe uses the N word, talking real loud. And everybody thinks this guy’s your buddy, so you get real uncomfortable and try to either end the conversation or talk loudly about how great it is to meet the guy for the very first time ever. That’s what these Americans are doing. Guilting us by association. Thanks alot, assholes.

I’m sorry, other countries. I know you don’t like living under the all seeing eye of the naked butt pyramid. And neither do I. This is a dark fucking week. My first instinct was to pick up and move to New Zealand. Maybe there is a hobbit hole available on that property Peter Jackson owns. But then I cooled down I realized no, I’m staying. They’re the ones who should move. They’re the ones who don’t believe in the Constitution. They’re the ones with the offshore tax shelters too. Wait for them to move to some island resort somewhere. This is my land. (more…)

pathetically optimistic column written just before the axe came down on the supple neck of our democracy

Tuesday, November 2nd, 2004

Well here we are friends. Right on the edge of the cliff looking down. Pretty sure we can jump all the way to the other side, but not COMPLETELY sure. Very soon we could be having a celebration like the “ewok” aliens used to have at the end of the movie RETURN OF THE JEDI before the footage was mysteriously lost under suspicious circumstances. On the other hand we might find ourselves throwing flaming garbage cans, rolling SUVs or, you know, rolling up in a ball in the corner sucking our thumbs. We, as a nation, might have to start drinking again. We might have to fly our asses to Washington to protest the inauguration. Eggs would be in such high demand that protesters would have to start bussing in thousands of free range chickens to pump out enough eggs to catapult at the presidential limo from behind the protest barricade 200 miles away. Hopefully it won’t come to that. No, it won’t come to that. We’re gonna do it.

We’ve come a long fucking way to get to this day. We have journeyed courageously while the economy trickled down from the sky, dripping all around us but somehow never hitting anybody. We have seen the wonders of the world, from the abandoned caves of Afghanistan to the naked butt pyramids of Abu Ghraib. From Enron Field to Halliburtonland. From the plane hitting the fucking Pentagon to Governor Bush getting his ass whooped in all three debates even while wearing a fucking earpiece. And they tell us somehow the race is still close!

(Yeah, I said it. The fucker was wearing an earpiece. And he should be ashamed of himself not coming up with a better story than “poorly tailored shirt.” Okay, so I’ve never had a shirt tailored in my life, but I think I got a pretty good idea what is and isn’t possible in the tailoring of shirts. For example, I think it is NOT possible for a tailor to accidentally sew a large rectangular box into the back of a shirt. If there in fact IS a tailor that bad somewhere in this world, you would think he would not rise to the level of presidential debate shirt tailor. Okay, so these people are completely inept at pretty much everything they’ve ever tried to do. So maybe they’d promote somebody like that. And yeah they’d probaly hire some oil executive to be the tailor and he wouldn’t know what the fuck he was doing. But still man, how do you EVEN sew a large rectangular box into the back of a shirt? Even if you’re trying? I don’t care who you are, that is some BAD god damn tailoring. And if you get that kind of poor service from your tailor, what you do is, YOU DON’T GO ON LIVE INTERNATIONAL TELEVISION AND DEBATE WHILE WEARING IT. I’m supposed to believe this asshole only has one shirt? And even after the first debate, he wore it to the other debates too? Doesn’t it get uncomfortable being up there in the hot lights, trying to answer difficult questions, wearing the most poorly and freakishly tailored shirt in the history of tailoring? And did this preposterously bad tailor at least get a talking to for accidentally reinventing the shape of the human shirt? Or does the lack of accountability we’ve seen with Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, everybody, etc. extend all the way down to the White House tailor? What sort of bizarre lump would you have to sew into that shirt to get fired? I mean really, this brings up so many questions. I could go on all night.)

Remember the Y2K scare? We were all worried that some assholes had fucked up programming computers, forgot to put an extra digit somewhere and now our whole society was gonna go Mad Max on us. When the clock struck midnight nothing happened, but I think we really got our Y2K problem later in the year. We thought what we needed was one more digit, what we really needed was one less corrupt Supreme Court judge. (more…)

2004 presidential debates

Thursday, October 7th, 2004

I don’t know about you but I’ve been enjoying these “debates.” It’s hard to call them “debates” without quotes because there are so many damn rules they might as well just play dungeons and dragons or something. I thought one of them was gonna get a balk.

(baseball technicality where a pitcher has stepped too far away from the mound and the batter gets to walk to first)

The best was definitely the first one, unofficially titled Kerry Unambiguously Whoops Bush’s Bitch Ass Part 1. I was a little nervous before the whole thing because you never know what’s gonna happen. Obviously Kerry had a good chance of doing well, and Bush had a very high chance of looking like a complete jackass. We all know the man can’t stand there and answer actual unplanned questions. We’ve seen it many times before, from the campaign 2000 interviews to the Meet the Press interview to even the handful of fake ass scripted “Press Conferences” he’s had. Even when the deck is stacked, he loses all his money.

What I’m saying is, the president is a fucking retard. I love America and all that, but the president is a fucking retard. Quit pretending.

Still, that has nothing to do with anything. If Bush went up there wearing his pants backwards and spent the whole time talking about his Yu-Gi-Oh cards, the media could still probaly pass it off as an impressive showing by a strong, decisive leader. He was just showing that he was down with the people. When his dad was president he was so out of touch he hadn’t apparently been inside a grocery store in 35 years. This Bush though, this guy is with it, he collects Yu-Gi-Oh cards. Just like the hard working, God fearing, homeland securing NASCAR dads and security moms and juggling uncles and commemorative coin neighbors and all the other embarassingly obvious fictional demographics he represents.

But about two minutes into the “debate,” it was clear there was nothing to worry about. This was a hilarious 90 minutes of television. It really seemed like some reality show where they told Bush he was going to be auditioning for an updated MY THREE SONS sitcom, then when he asked to use the bathroom before the pre-interview, they directed him down a hallway that led onto a stage on live television where he had to debate John Kerry. (more…)

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