Cyborg

"The muscles from Brussels" is indeed one of my favorite action stars. His action isn't exaggerated or falsified. In a time where action moguls (Tony Jaa, whom I love) rip the screen with unprecedented acrobatics, Van Damme was still printing enjoyable film after enjoyable film with insane plots and ridiculous dialogue that led to another fight scene, each better than the last. Cyborg is a film that markets the term "Cyborg" with the face of a battered Van Damme. For those who've seen this film, we all know that this film has very little to do with a Cyborg.


Gibson Rickenbacker is a hired martial-artist/bodyguard that is seeking vengeance on a dread locked gang leader of a group called "Pirates". His quest will lead him to saving the life (er...) of a Cyborg carrying the cure of the plague that has destroyed most of humanity. Most of the humanitarian aspect of this film has been sacrificed for gun fights and high jump kicks. Where they could have taken the escort mission far, the plot is squandered for cheap thrills, but they do satisfy.


Director Albert Pyun had been busy directing both Spiderman and Masters of the Universe 2. When the copyrights to both Mattel and Marvel became void, the recycled sets and such became home to a script dubbed Cyborg. The rest is history. Well, as historical as a less-than-memorable science fiction/action film can get. The enchanting asset to Cyborg is how young Van Damme looked at the end of the 80s. After watching Cyborg, It dawned to me just how well he would have fit into a role as Peter Pan. He might have even brought unspeakable entertainment to such film.


Cyborg is by no means the definition or even the guideline of a classic. The action is indeed well filmed but the "good overpowers all" cycle is easily tiring. In fact, I couldn't recommend this film for anything other than Van Damme kicking dirty people repeatedly in the face. The Dystopian genre has been plagued, not from a mysterious illness, but from shoddy film making that is cleverly hidden so that the recycled plot/script isn't too noticeable to the fans of both Jean-Claude and fans of post-apocalyptic scenarios.

-mAQ

Long Weekend

I once set out to see the film Picnic at Hanging Rock directed by Peter Weir because I heard it was very atmospheric in nature. I have found very few films that have the ability to prove an engaging atmosphere from the film's opening to close. After watching Picnic at Hanging Rock I felt cheated. Despite the film's sometimes beautiful wilderness settings, the film ultimately failed in what it set out to do. It was not until I saw the “horror” film Long Weekend did I feel that I got my fill of mysterious Australian nature.


In Long Weekend, a married couple in a deteriorating relationship set out for an Australian beach in hopes of fixing things. The couple is fairly cosmopolitan and seems to lack any type of roots with nature. By littering and hurting animals, they show their arrogance towards the outdoors. The man in the relationship attempts to feel and display power by shooting off a fancy rifle for no logical reason. It is not until things start getting on the Australian coastline does the couple realize the power of nature over man.

Long Weekend has one of the most beautiful settings I have ever seen in a film. The Australian beach featured in the film looks like it has yet to be tampered by the corrosive hands of man. The water is of a pure dazzling blue that looks quite inviting to anyone that enjoys swimming. If someone were to flip through television channels and catch Long Weekend for a second, they might think that they are watching a nature documentary. The cinematographer of the film was not goofing around trying to shoot another “B” grade “nature attacks” film while shooting Long Weekend. The aesthetically pleasing nature of the film works in splendid contrast to the anti-nature attitude of the married couple.


The woman is found out in the film to have an abortion. Not only has the couple denied the law of nature, but the reality of their own nature. The couple are the quintessential products of abstractive intellectualism and rootless cosmopolitanism. They are products of the death of western culture and the decline of civilization. It is no surprise that the birthrates of Europeans and people of European descent are dropping with each generation of the world. When one no longer feels their roots, their purpose of existence ceases to be. The married couple in Long Weekend are incapable of creating a family (let alone staying together), shun respecting natural law, and cannot sustain themselves without material objects. In a sense, nature puts them out of their misery.


I was reminded of Long Weekend recently after watching the exciting and intense British horror film Eden Lake. The couple featured in the latter not only lack a connection with nature but also the sometimes viciousness of the man of nature who has yet to be deracinated from his “backwoods” roots. Both Long Weekend and Eden Lake feature a couple's demise due to their killing of an animal(s). Although man has dominated animal, it seems that man forgets that he is also an animal. It only takes a long weekend (or a few minutes) for a man to fare against nature and its various exotic creatures.

-Ty E

Vacancy 2: The First Cut

Let's go over the finalizing details of 2008 and the reincarnation of the DVD studio within early 2009. Let's take our first breath. The Lost Boys 2: The Tribe, Rest Stop 2, Vacancy 2: The First Cut, Pulse 2: Afterlife, Pulse 3: Invasion, Feast II: Sloppy Seconds, Joy Ride 2, Reeker 2, Without A Paddle: Nature Calling, Anaconda III, Alone in the Dark II, Boogeyman 2, Starship Troopers 3: Marauder, The Eye 3, and many others. This list is representative of Hollywood taking a steep clique change. Where as remaking J-horror was the only function they had acquired from experience, alas, they now know how to milk a family for all it's worth.



Allow me to tell you a secret. I've never seen Vacancy, nor do I plan on giving it a chance. On the topic of the Hollywood myth of snuff material, 8mm was raw, coarse, and a damn fine film for that matter. I don't need a Luke Wilson vessel for a shady-business type deal. Besides, what kind of snuff film is one with little-to-no sexual activity. If I wanted to watch people being murdered without intercourse or fetishist values, I could open up a new tab in the wonderful browser of Firefox. 3 words in a search engine could get me my fix of boring sensationalism.


With only one character of the predated sequel (paradox?), Vacancy 2: The First Cut doesn't do much for the viewer who hasn't seen the original. The character of Smith is the only returning character which means that most of the villains are mere fodder. The idea of a snuff film is tossed around within the origin, but the whole scheme is so laughably conceived that it's incredibly hard to believe. "So wait. You're telling me people buy videos of people getting murdered? Well hot damn! Why didn't we think of this sooner?" Vacancy 2: The First Cut attempts to establish an "Argyle" character shortly within but falls short of steam.


For being apart of the Straight to Video DVD sequels that are squelching & soulless, Vacancy 2: The First Cut is an alright horror film. Well, not even really a horror film. The idea is suspense in itself. Devoid of strengths and lacking weaknesses, this prequel to Vacancy simply exists. At times it's enjoyable and acknowledgeable but at other times, the film is tedious, stuffed with clichés, and lacks nudity and violence. And we all know if all else fails, these "stocking stuffers" do strengthen a film.

-mAQ

Guyver: Dark Hero

The Guyver is an instant cult icon in any category that you wish to throw at it; horrible melodrama, quirky action, even arterial slashings. The fact that Kaiju, Sentai, and American kung-fu films can all be meshed in an explosive Venn diagram only adds to the enormous entertainment that Guyver: Dark Hero adds. The perfect fusion of Western settings and Japanese art has been created with this sequel.


Guyver: Dark Hero has been hailed as "Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers" but with an R rating. This is a highly correct assumption that we have no choice but to agree with as soon as the film opens with the slaying of an innocent security guard and the New Guyver slashing the culprit's throat with his BAD ASS arm blades - reminiscent to the monstrosity that was Baraka (Mortal Kombat II). The sequel to The Guyver follows the manga/anime much closer thus dissolving a proximity issue. This is almost spoiled when the horrible acting dawns upon the viewer, but it is highly forgivable. By the end of this film, it will even be cherished.


A horrible sub-love plot involving an archaeologist bogs down most of the script which serves as a pleasant entrée to fans of cryptozoology, like myself. The theory of werewolves and other entities being Zoanoids is a welcome addition to the psyche of a skeptic or conspiracy theorist. It adds this realism to an already outrageous adventure of discovery and soap opera love. The tortured character of the Guyver is portrayed by David Hayter. His performance is so cleverly disguised as amateur work that is pleases all senses, both mapped and unknown. There lies a deep satisfaction behind this film and the zany action and horrible production sets.


Here's a fun fact. The actor that you criticize? David Hayter? Well he's actually the writer for the Zack Snyder directed Watchmen feature film. This is one I'm heavily anticipating seeing as how the novel is one of the greatest pieces of literature ever crafted by an elitist Brit. Guyver: Dark Hero is a spotlight for incredible monster action mixed with often-violent outcomes. For any fan of science fiction, this is a must-see of the genre. I'm torn between hating David Hayter for his predicted destruction of Watchmen. Seeing as how he wrote The Scorpion King, the chances aren't looking too bright. Guyver: Dark Hero is basically essential viewing for any organic life form. That's the only real way to put it.

-mAQ

Adoration

What inspires a man to kill?
Is it a right of passage?
Does it make a “man” of a man to kill a man?
What about killing a woman?
Why kill something beautiful and innocent?
Why kill something you swoon over?


Japanese cannibal Issei Sagawa killed and ate a young woman that he was obsessed with. While studying in France, he met a young Dutch girl. The short and Asian Issei Sagawa had a questionable obsession with this tall Aryan woman. Apparently, Sagawa has described himself as a "weak, ugly and small man." It is obvious that a man that would describe himself in such a manner lacks the confidence to obtain a beautiful European woman. Instead, Issei decided that killing and eating the object of his lustful desire would be the only way of obtaining an intimate moment with the unfortunate lady.

The Body of Sagawa's victim

Belgian experimental director Olivier Smolders directed a powerful short film about Issei Sagawa and his victim. The beautiful 1987 short Adoration features scenes of black and white brutality worthy of a certain degree of “adoration.” Director Olivier Smolders added a couple fictional elements to give the short a more “poetic” feel. The young women featured in Adoration is even shot during the reciting of poetry. Sagawa wastes no time dissembling the young woman’s limbs and putting them to his mouth so that he can “absorb her energy.”


With Adoration, Olivier Smolders accomplished creating a film that combines both depravity and an unsettling calmness. Adoration is not a glamorized look at murder and sexual gratification, but a view into the life of a pathetically perverted individual. Issei Sagawa fainted after cowardly shooting his victim in the back of the neck. After regaining consciousness, Issei raped her dead body and then proceeded to eat the flesh off of the victim's hips. Nowadays, Issei Sagawa is living the life of a “minor celebrity” in Tokyo, Japan. He writes restaurant reviews, acts in films, and is a published author.

-Ty E

Petey Wheatstraw

Petey Wheatstraw is blessed with an acute personality and surreal aesthetics that set it apart from the other self-funded 70s films that defined a genre. The set direction can only be borrowed from hallucinogenic masterpieces such as Julian Roffman's The Mask or José Mojica Marins' Coffin Joe anthology. The single greatest compliment to 70s blaxploitation is the creation of The Devil's Son-in-law. While many blaxploitation titles were far-fetched, few would cross boundaries such as Dolemite's own Petey Wheatstraw.


In a similar "-sploitation + Underworld" vein of The Dragon Lives Again, our favorite comedian finds himself in hell after his execution from rival comedians. Since his birth during a hurricane, Petey Wheatstraw was born a 12 year old with an affinity for ass kicking. It's these special skills that allow him to reign supreme in all of his characters. Petey Wheatstraw might be an accurate biopic on the life of Rudy Ray Moore. After promising Lucifer to wed his hideous daughter and create a spawn, Petey decides to steal his magic cane and hastily work towards outwitting the devil (by leaving town). The main thing here is that Petey becomes no ones bitch but his own.


Petey Wheatstraw is one of Rudy Ray Moore's greatest achievements. His addition to cinema can be steadily overlooked as just another accidental spoof film but the layers are feathered deeper than presumed. With its incredible art direction of a 70s surrealist creation and nutzoid script ridden with laughable plot holes and awkward editing, Petey Wheatstraw even organizes time in a way to cleverly insert racial caricatures of the iconic "hood niggas" parodied in such timeless cartoons of ye olde' Disney. Such scenes as two Afrocentric Negroes on a porch sharing some delicious watermelon. Their only response is "Dis sho' am good!" and this is prior to the boy getting shot.


Racism intact; Dolemite has inspired roughly two generations of rap music with his jive talk and constant rhyme scheme. His other outings swap circumstance with chance and inspire visual artists. There isn't a doubt in my mind that films like Petey Wheatstraw and Disco Godfather (Both experimental Rudy Ray Moore films) inspired the post-blaxploitation classics like Pootie Tang and infused the African philosophy of art that Spike Lee attempts to use in many of his brash and crass films of an anti-white nature. I'm sorry Mr. Lee but Eastwood won the race battle on this one with his personal piece, Gran Torino.


Months before Rudy Ray Moore's tragic death, he had posted a Myspace blog explaining his recent decision to never say the word "Nigger" again. After creating an entire culture based on the versatility and counter-versatility of this word, his resignation of his own cultural movement proved to be of a shock. While many supported him, his protege's would not listen to reason. Snoop Dogg, who would be nothing without Dolemite, continues to use the word freely and even rather loosely. Whereas Dolemite films would express the term to a selected class of African-American, modern rappers use this term to describe an average Joe.


In Petey Wheatstraw, many continuity errors and problematic space/time conundrums occur. In one example, a thug wearing a sleek fedora gets rocked in the face causing his hat to fly off. The next edit leaves the guy getting punched again with his hat on. The reaction time for the thug to grab his hat and fit it back to his head is impossible which creates a quirky environment. One in which Petey grabs a 6 foot ladder to scale a multiple story building, but I guess art is art. Had Lucifer prevented the slaughter that occurred from ever happening, how did Leroy & Skillet acknowledge that Petey should be six feet deep? Ravenous hearts run rampant in Rudy Ray Moore's films. In most cases, you can expect a downbeat ending that serves as a PSA to urban youth.


When the credits finally roll, you'll see that death takes its toll. In the case of this futureless setting, it seems ole' Petey will continue with the wedding. Petey Wheatstraw doesn't go far from raising the blaxploitation bar. Devil ho's and magic canes aside, you'll enjoy the hell out of this motherfucking ride. The rhymes grow thin, the room starts to spin, How could Petey ever hope to win? You barter with the Devil and you've sunken to his level. Rest in peace: The true pimp Dolemite. Even if your films are a bit anti-white.

-mAQ

Seven Pounds

Seven Pounds has been released theatrically long enough so that I feel comfortable divulging certain aspects of the film, both appreciated and loathed, that could be deemed as "spoiling" to the experience that is Seven Pounds. A unanimous amount of movie goers have been terminally stricken with a case of the sub-viral marketing that Seven Pounds has launched. Perplexing trailers with very little plot line were revealed over the course of months. Advertising for this film was frustrating cause I didn't know what was going on and let's face it, This is no Cloverfield advert.


Italian director Gabriele Muccino, widely known for his other Will Smith collective The Pursuit of Happyness, attempts to recreate the feeling of a Shakespearean tragedy with this enigma of a film. Reviews have generally been mixed towards this film which only made me want to experience this on my own. Critics are generally someone you cannot trust. Just ask Ben Lyons about that one time he called I Am Legend "Greatest movie ever made". As filmdom goes, the term "sleeper" is applied to films that are critically received negatively for false reasons, or just no received at all. In this case, Seven Pounds is a sleeper drama hit that will score well with adults.


My curiosity has been piqued, so what next? During the time I spent absorbing Seven Pounds, I found many admirable assets and fewer facets worth nit-picking over. Regarding Will Smith's career? It's been a variety of over-the-top performances in many summer blockbusters. In fact, juxtaposing Will Smith and blockbuster would be a conundrum had he not starred in the most profitable of the bunch. Fresh Prince to Bad Boys, ID4 to Wild Wild West. Smith has been our charming star of most of the ridiculous action films with a racial twist. I can't think of a single genre that the Prince hasn't marked with his irrevocable humor. With such blatant unapologetic propaganda, it's hard not to be swayed by his onscreen swagger.


Seven Pounds is one of his most surprising performances to date. Quick switch from a tragedy to outlandish moments of depression; It's hard to take this film seriously 100% of the time. I even forgot that what I was watching had the sole intent of making me cry. One of the few weaknesses that plagues this film is that Seven Pounds is doomed to be considered just and only good. The character of Ben Thomas is invasive to a degree such seen in Pay It Forward. Valiantly although recklessly charging in the midst of peoples problems for a Shakespearean version of redemption. The cost is flesh and there lies the theme. The key camera angles through fences, windows, and other outlets provide more of a "flesh" to the themes of invasion. Seven Pounds is a homely experience with many personal feeling strewn about.


Seven Pounds is a story that quite literally unfolds. Literally as metaphorically as it can be. During Seven Pounds, you will undoubtedly attempt to unravel the plot and piece the premature puzzle together, Try as you might but you will not foresee the final scenario until it is too late. Seven Pounds brings to flesh the idea of the rules of a theatrical tragedy, but with shameful CGI jellyfish. I wouldn't call this "most depressing" but with a gifted script with flips, twists, and turns, Seven Pounds accelerates past its prime and into a sub genre of film that caters to those looking for an emotional ride. With sacrificial aesthetics and an adequate cast (I despise Rosario Dawson), Seven Pounds is indeed about birth. Cinematic or organic; you decide. What a joyous time to be a crippling depressive.

-mAQ