Just when the pain in my soul hadn't recovered from "Transformers," the Hollywood executives at Paramount have decided to reach inside my chest again, pull out my lungs and piss on them in front of me.
G.I. Joe is to be released sometime next year, because Hollywood hasn't kicked me in the balls enough. Keep trying, Hollywood. I think I can still produce kids out of the left nut. A perfect target for when that He-Man movie is finally released.
Here is the synopsis for the movie, as reported by Variety: "G.I. Joe is now a Brussels-based outfit that stands for Global Integrated Joint Operating Entity, an international co-ed force of operatives who use hi-tech equipment to battle Cobra, an evil organization headed by a double-crossing Scottish arms dealer. The property is closer in tone to X-Men and James Bond than a war film."
What the hell does that even mean? G.I. Joe is supposed to be a reference to our Army, and the term "G.I." doesn't even have any significance outside of our borders. I can't imagine an international organization pandering to us like that. Also, the fact that it's based in Brussels and is an international squad kinda goes against that "Real American Hero" part. I mean, G.I. Joe being American is right there in the name.
And Cobra isn't led by a double-crossing Scottish arms dealer. It's a ruthless terrorist organization led by Cobra Commander (and later on, Serpentor, when things started getting really ridiculous).
The changes are being made because Paramount is concerned about whether or not they can successfully market a movie about the U.S. Military at a time when our military is viewed in such a negative light around the world. They openly admit that it will be a "tough sell" and so they're changing things up to assure that "as many people as possible around the world will want to see it. " My solution to this would be not making the movie, but I'm not a movie executive. I don't think that there's a huge demand for a movie about G.I. Joe, so I'm sure no one would miss it if it wasn't there. Or, you could just not make the changes, because after all, it's G.I. Joe, not U.N. Squadron.
There was also talk of including G.I. Joe's overseas counterpart, Action Man. Thankfully, they didn't do it, as it would have just become two versions of every character. By the time I got overseas, Action Man was just the G.I. Joe line with a new logo on it. Plus, Action Man was always a stupid name. Was that really the best they could do? It could be worse, though; they could have called it "Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles."
Wait, what? You're kidding, right? No, for real. "Hero Turtles?" I thought I just made that up.
Of course, what it all should come down to in the end is the characters and giving the fans what they want. I don't have much faith that they will, because after all, you saw what I thought about "Transformers." G.I. Joe was a show based in Reaganomics, Cold War America. There's was an emphasis on big guns, cool planes, and hardcore patriotic action stars. The kind of guys that chewed glass and liked the salty taste of their own blood. Like an entire group of Rambos that couldn't shoot, but things would blow up anyway.
This movie most likely won't be that way, but at least I won't have to worry about this movie focusing too much on humans and the government, because that's what this one is about. But no quote screams "failure" like the one from Paramount producer Lorenzo di Bonaventura: "My experience with beloved properties is that characters, attitude and tone are even more important than plot." Just the perfect attitude to dash the hopes of fans of a long-dead property. Reading between the lines, it says that they'll get all the catchphrases in the movie, which will be nothing more than a series of explosions. The hero will have a love interest. Roll credits.
With thinking like that at the helm, (it's directed by Stephen Sommers, director of "The Mummy," a series so bland, even The Rock couldn't make me like it) I can't wait for He-Man now. They'll probably make He-Man more slender, because they don't want to upset anyone thinking that he could be on steroids. Man-At-Arms will be his gay sidekick to promote acceptance.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Saturday, August 18, 2007
I Can't Believe I Rented It - Action Jackson
The only way this movie could be any more awesome is if they retroactively added “Eye of the Tiger” to the soundtrack and a training montage. That would take it off the scale of recordable words of human speak and into the realm of telepathy between dogs or the binary language of moisture vaporators. It’s got action, it’s got explosions, and it’s got both Vanity’s and Sharon Stone’s exposed breasts. I could end this review right now and you’d completely understand.
I never saw “Action Jackson” when it first came out. Even at the age of 10, I just didn’t like the look of the whole thing. I mean, he was a black guy, so naturally, his name had to rhyme? I seriously thought about these things as a child. I’ll tell anyone who will listen about how I never liked the Junkyard Dog or Roadblock from G.I. Joe because I couldn’t identify with their stereotypical antics, like dancing all time or talking in rhyme. So, I took a pass on “Action Jackson” assuming it would be more of the same.
Then, when I was visiting some friends back in Jackson, “Action Jackson” was put on and they all crowded around the TV to watch, because they loved this movie. I didn’t watch it all, but I did see one part that piqued my curiosity…Action Jackson ran down a speeding taxi on foot. I thought to myself, “This movie must be terrible. I have to see the rest.” So one day when I was in Wal-Mart, the Devil’s Store, I saw it in the five dollar bin. I bought it, and probably three or four other movies that I didn’t need to get.
That movie sat on my movie rack, in the plastic, for about two years. Then, yesterday came, and feeling the need to make fun of something, I decided to finally watch it. And you know what? This is probably the most awesome thing I’ve seen all day. And I don’t feel bad ruining it for you if you haven’t seen it, because the movie’s almost 20 years old. Personally, I’m hoping for a 20th anniversary DVD to be released, with updated pictures of Apollo Creed, who plays Action Jackson, so I can see if he’s still wearing eyeliner.
This movie has every 80’s action movie cliché. A disgraced, over the top, renegade cop that’s living on the edge, a police chief that’s breathing down his neck, a respectable businessman who’s actually a murderous scumbag, complete with henchmen, hot women who get naked, the monologue where the bad guy details his plot to the hero, the romance between the hero and his love interest, no matter how trifling or shady the girl actually is, and let us not forget, the clever quips during and after the fighting. Not to mention, in true 80’s fashion, explosions where there probably shouldn’t be explosions (because in the 80’s, gas tanks were protected by a layer of aluminum foil wrapped in dynamite) and the rotating cast of men that you will only recognize from other 80’s action movies. It’s possible that I have a genetic defect that won’t allow me to dislike this movie.
What else does it have? It also has a scene that is so ridiculous that it came through the mists of time to embed itself in my brain, slap it in the face, and force it to make me spend $5.88 on this DVD.
Sharon Stone (because I couldn’t be bothered to remember her movie name) and Action Jackson are crossing the street, when Sharon makes the mistake of asking out loud why he’s called “Action.” In movies, you just don’t do things like that, because the Spirit of Dramatic Irony will be forced to drop an anvil on you or make zombies come out of the sewers. In this case, he sent a guy in a taxi to run them over, right on cue.
They jump out of the way, and at this point, the computer in his head starts giving him options. He can A:) Make sure the girl is safe. B:) Call for back-up. C:) Chase down a speeding cab on foot. And in true 80’s action movie fashion, he decides to pick the most ridiculous option possible, but because he’s black, he has to give it some flavor. So for a good two minutes, he’s running alongside a car that’s moving at least 50 miles an hour, yelling at the guy to pull over. The guy just sneers that 80’s henchman sneer at him and keeps driving, so Action Jackson leaps off of the ground, onto the roof of a parked car, and soars through the air and lands on the roof of the cab.
The henchman starts to swerve to get him off, but Action Jackson has the Grip of Righteousness on his side, so he stays on. Then, the guy starts shooting at the roof of the car, but that never works and all it does is piss off Action Jackson, a mistake that he warns you throughout the movie that you should never make, because it gives him superpowers or something. So he punches through the wind shield, which he could do without slicing his hand to ribbons because he braced himself, and starts grabbing on the guy, who slams on the brakes.
Action Jackson flies off the hood and rolls about half a mile down the road, and without a scuffed knee or anything, jumps to his feet and starts screaming nonsense at the guy, who sneers again and slams on the gas. And just when you thought the ridiculous couldn’t get no more ridiculouser, Action Jackson leaps into the air, clears the car by at least three feet, does a flip in the air and sticks the landing, just as the cab somehow leaves the ground and crashes into the building at the end of the street. The only reason this doesn’t cause an explosion was because Action Jackson had to get down there and see that the guy somehow got away without a trace.
And right after that, Sharon Stone winds up getting killed by Coach (Craig T. Nelson), who is her husband and the main bad guy. Coach frames Action Jackson for her murder and that sets up another 80’s mainstay: Action Jackson is on the run for a murder he did not commit and must clear his name and expose the insidious plot. While he was on the run, he hooked up with Vanity, who is Coach’s mistress, and forced her to help him because Coach was trying to kill her, too. Vanity spent a good half hour trying to get Apollo to give her the business, but he didn’t, because he was trying to get ready for the fight with Rocky. Or keep them alive. I can’t remember which.
I fail to see how you could walk away from a movie like this without a smile on your face. The only person who probably wasn’t happy with the results was Vanity, who played the junkie with a heart of gold (and panties of imagination). She was finally exposed as someone should only be holding a mic if she’s handing it to someone else AND as an actress who should only be called in if the waitress at the café down the street gets hit by a bus. If she’s ever worked again, it’s proof to me that she gives really good head.
I still liked “7th Heaven” though. That’s probably the best nonsensical song I’ve ever heard. And I liked “Action Jackson,” too, even if they expect me to buy that this cop was so dangerous that they took his gun license away, yet kept him employed as a cop. Or if they expect me to believe that one can drive a Ferrari at top speed through a crowd of people without hitting anyone before going up two or three flights of stairs. Or if they expect me to believe that Coach is a threat to anyone except Stuart or Luther.
For all its faults, I still loved it. I think I loved it because of its faults, mostly because they just don’t make movies like this anymore, and if they do, they call those “direct-to-DVD,” and usually those are so bad that they make my skin burn. It was a nice little throwback to the days when you could invent drinking games based on the cast or the amount of explosions in the movie. Next time you and your friends get together, put this movie on and every time you see a guy that you saw in another 80s action movie, you have to name the movie he was in and take a shot. You also have to take a shot for every explosion. I expect to see more than a few of you in the ICU or a liver transplant list.
Watch this movie because I saw Carl Weathers in some commercial last week for a product I couldn't even name. He's about one stint in rehab away from winding up on "the Surreal Life." He could use our support right now.
I never saw “Action Jackson” when it first came out. Even at the age of 10, I just didn’t like the look of the whole thing. I mean, he was a black guy, so naturally, his name had to rhyme? I seriously thought about these things as a child. I’ll tell anyone who will listen about how I never liked the Junkyard Dog or Roadblock from G.I. Joe because I couldn’t identify with their stereotypical antics, like dancing all time or talking in rhyme. So, I took a pass on “Action Jackson” assuming it would be more of the same.
Then, when I was visiting some friends back in Jackson, “Action Jackson” was put on and they all crowded around the TV to watch, because they loved this movie. I didn’t watch it all, but I did see one part that piqued my curiosity…Action Jackson ran down a speeding taxi on foot. I thought to myself, “This movie must be terrible. I have to see the rest.” So one day when I was in Wal-Mart, the Devil’s Store, I saw it in the five dollar bin. I bought it, and probably three or four other movies that I didn’t need to get.
That movie sat on my movie rack, in the plastic, for about two years. Then, yesterday came, and feeling the need to make fun of something, I decided to finally watch it. And you know what? This is probably the most awesome thing I’ve seen all day. And I don’t feel bad ruining it for you if you haven’t seen it, because the movie’s almost 20 years old. Personally, I’m hoping for a 20th anniversary DVD to be released, with updated pictures of Apollo Creed, who plays Action Jackson, so I can see if he’s still wearing eyeliner.
This movie has every 80’s action movie cliché. A disgraced, over the top, renegade cop that’s living on the edge, a police chief that’s breathing down his neck, a respectable businessman who’s actually a murderous scumbag, complete with henchmen, hot women who get naked, the monologue where the bad guy details his plot to the hero, the romance between the hero and his love interest, no matter how trifling or shady the girl actually is, and let us not forget, the clever quips during and after the fighting. Not to mention, in true 80’s fashion, explosions where there probably shouldn’t be explosions (because in the 80’s, gas tanks were protected by a layer of aluminum foil wrapped in dynamite) and the rotating cast of men that you will only recognize from other 80’s action movies. It’s possible that I have a genetic defect that won’t allow me to dislike this movie.
What else does it have? It also has a scene that is so ridiculous that it came through the mists of time to embed itself in my brain, slap it in the face, and force it to make me spend $5.88 on this DVD.
Sharon Stone (because I couldn’t be bothered to remember her movie name) and Action Jackson are crossing the street, when Sharon makes the mistake of asking out loud why he’s called “Action.” In movies, you just don’t do things like that, because the Spirit of Dramatic Irony will be forced to drop an anvil on you or make zombies come out of the sewers. In this case, he sent a guy in a taxi to run them over, right on cue.
They jump out of the way, and at this point, the computer in his head starts giving him options. He can A:) Make sure the girl is safe. B:) Call for back-up. C:) Chase down a speeding cab on foot. And in true 80’s action movie fashion, he decides to pick the most ridiculous option possible, but because he’s black, he has to give it some flavor. So for a good two minutes, he’s running alongside a car that’s moving at least 50 miles an hour, yelling at the guy to pull over. The guy just sneers that 80’s henchman sneer at him and keeps driving, so Action Jackson leaps off of the ground, onto the roof of a parked car, and soars through the air and lands on the roof of the cab.
The henchman starts to swerve to get him off, but Action Jackson has the Grip of Righteousness on his side, so he stays on. Then, the guy starts shooting at the roof of the car, but that never works and all it does is piss off Action Jackson, a mistake that he warns you throughout the movie that you should never make, because it gives him superpowers or something. So he punches through the wind shield, which he could do without slicing his hand to ribbons because he braced himself, and starts grabbing on the guy, who slams on the brakes.
Action Jackson flies off the hood and rolls about half a mile down the road, and without a scuffed knee or anything, jumps to his feet and starts screaming nonsense at the guy, who sneers again and slams on the gas. And just when you thought the ridiculous couldn’t get no more ridiculouser, Action Jackson leaps into the air, clears the car by at least three feet, does a flip in the air and sticks the landing, just as the cab somehow leaves the ground and crashes into the building at the end of the street. The only reason this doesn’t cause an explosion was because Action Jackson had to get down there and see that the guy somehow got away without a trace.
And right after that, Sharon Stone winds up getting killed by Coach (Craig T. Nelson), who is her husband and the main bad guy. Coach frames Action Jackson for her murder and that sets up another 80’s mainstay: Action Jackson is on the run for a murder he did not commit and must clear his name and expose the insidious plot. While he was on the run, he hooked up with Vanity, who is Coach’s mistress, and forced her to help him because Coach was trying to kill her, too. Vanity spent a good half hour trying to get Apollo to give her the business, but he didn’t, because he was trying to get ready for the fight with Rocky. Or keep them alive. I can’t remember which.
I fail to see how you could walk away from a movie like this without a smile on your face. The only person who probably wasn’t happy with the results was Vanity, who played the junkie with a heart of gold (and panties of imagination). She was finally exposed as someone should only be holding a mic if she’s handing it to someone else AND as an actress who should only be called in if the waitress at the café down the street gets hit by a bus. If she’s ever worked again, it’s proof to me that she gives really good head.
I still liked “7th Heaven” though. That’s probably the best nonsensical song I’ve ever heard. And I liked “Action Jackson,” too, even if they expect me to buy that this cop was so dangerous that they took his gun license away, yet kept him employed as a cop. Or if they expect me to believe that one can drive a Ferrari at top speed through a crowd of people without hitting anyone before going up two or three flights of stairs. Or if they expect me to believe that Coach is a threat to anyone except Stuart or Luther.
For all its faults, I still loved it. I think I loved it because of its faults, mostly because they just don’t make movies like this anymore, and if they do, they call those “direct-to-DVD,” and usually those are so bad that they make my skin burn. It was a nice little throwback to the days when you could invent drinking games based on the cast or the amount of explosions in the movie. Next time you and your friends get together, put this movie on and every time you see a guy that you saw in another 80s action movie, you have to name the movie he was in and take a shot. You also have to take a shot for every explosion. I expect to see more than a few of you in the ICU or a liver transplant list.
Watch this movie because I saw Carl Weathers in some commercial last week for a product I couldn't even name. He's about one stint in rehab away from winding up on "the Surreal Life." He could use our support right now.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
I Can't Believe I Rented It - Godzilla
When I sat in the theater watching “Jurassic Park: The Lost World,” there was a scene where a T-Rex gets loose in New York City and starts rampaging all over the place, and I, like so many others, no doubt, had a revelation. No, not that I shouldn’t have gone to the movies to watch “The Lost World,” but that it was just a matter of time before they made another “Godzilla” movie. And in 1998, our worst fears came to pass.
I didn’t go see it, though, and the reviewers ripped it apart. It was one of those times I decided to listen to the critics. Time passed, though, and with the passage of time comes two things: forgetfulness and in some cases, dementia.
In 2003, I met a girl who had “Godzilla” on DVD. She said it wasn’t as bad as everyone said, but I didn’t believe her. I borrowed it from her because I wanted to see just how bad the movie was. I mean, this was a failure of “Waterworld” proportions. The summer of 1998 had “Godzilla” plastered everywhere. There were fast food tie-ins, soft drink promotions, video games, even toys. None of it sold and “Godzilla” became the poster child for summer blockbuster excess.
I started to watch that movie after 30 minutes, I was already doing something else, with absolutely no memory of what I had seen, but I never gave the movie back, because I forgot. Then, came a fateful night in 2007, when my dementia kicked in and I made myself watch the entire movie. What follows is the recollection of my horrible, horrible decision.
In thirty minutes, you should be able to tell if the movie you’re watching is going to suck. Except for “Transformers,” which despite a really good first hour, provided me with two blogs worth of material, every movie pretty much fits into that. After 30 minutes with “Godzilla,” it was pretty easy to see why it flopped. The movie purposely opens in the South Pacific for one reason and one reason only: So they could have an Asian man says “Gojira” on camera.
But besides making fun of the way Asian people talk, this movie was goddamn boring. There’s no other way to say it. I don’t know where moviemakers get the idea that we’d rather see regular humans and government interworkings instead of iconic characters, but “Godzilla” showed Ang Lee and Michael Bay the path that they would later walk with “Hulk” and “Transformers.” And both of those movies were terrible.
For what felt like at least three hours, we got to watch the excitement of a nerd biologist researching a giant lizard and how it got pregnant. Along the way, we got to meet the mysterious Frenchman, the mayor of New York who’s trying to get re-elected, the military guy who’s stuck with the mayor, the governor of New York, the other military guy who’s actually on the ground, a news cameraman and his girlfriend, and an aspiring reporter who just happens to be the ex-girlfriend of the nerd biologist. What do any of these people have to do with a giant lizard rampaging through New York? Except for the nerd and the guy with the guns, not a damn thing.
Honestly, I think the screenwriters forgot what movie they were writing at times, because there were whole hours that went by where they weren’t even talking about the eminent threat to Manhattan and by proxy, life on Earth. I mean, there was a failed relationship to talk about, or the re-election campaign, or the how the ex-girlfriend keeps getting screwed over by her boss at the news station. These are pressing concerns, people! We can’t be bothered with the giant lizard that’s trying to kill us all.
I swear, I thought I was watching Transformers again. Are you sure Michael Bay didn’t direct this?
No, we have the creators of Independence Day to thank for this one. I know this because plastered above the title of the movie is the statement, “From the Creators of Independence Day.” Thanks for telling us that, Dean Devlin and Roland Emmerich. Now, I know where to send the shit sandwich for letting this one get out, sucking harder than the virgin girl who’s dealing with her first ‘materhead. It was the sort of experience that makes old ladies drink and babies explode.
I can only imagine what it was like for the people who actually had to sit through this in the theater, because once you adjust for inflation, the people in 1998 would have paid at least $77 to watch this. At least the people who worked for Tri-Star back then were getting paid for this abuse. Which leads me to wonder…how much money would you accept to let someone kick you in the groin?
The special effects were good, and truthfully, I’ve got no problem with the way Godzilla looked, mainly because he wasn’t a robot Godzilla or a turtle with jets for legs or a giant moth. Clearly, there was no opium usage during the creative process. The short time that you got to see Godzilla actually rampaging through the city was pretty okay. Too bad there wasn’t more of it. But where the awe-inspiring moments left off, the ridiculous scenes took over. For instance…
The first time Godzilla comes into full view, he’s just breaking buildings, running all over the place, doing his thug thizzle. Then, he walks up on the nerd biologist (played by a “trying way too hard to be nerdy” Ferris Bueller), gets right up in his face, and just stares at him. And Ferris Bueller stares right back, with all the childlike wonder he can muster. In the background, the music from E.T. when he makes the bikes fly is playing. I swear it is. Now think about that for a second. The perfect killing machine is standing in front of you, wondering what you taste like, but the music is laying out a mood of magical wonder and jumping over the Army on your bike.
As stupid as that sounds, what’s stupider is…Godzilla just walks away. And what’s stupider than that is, the U.S. Army, who was standing right behind him, had to be told to fire on the giant lizard that just destroyed half the city. I guess they were waiting to see if Ferris Bueller and the lizard were going to share a touching kiss. And who would want to ruin the chance to see some “interspecies erotica?”
Godzilla goes running through the city, outruns the gunships that are firing all over the place, then hides somewhere in the city. I would ask how, but it might ruin the illusion of ridiculousness that this movie has worked so hard to create. Although, you probably should remember this scene of Godzilla running at least 150 miles an hour through Manhattan, because later on he’s unable to catch a cab that’s directly in front of him.
Nor could his babies catch the people that were on foot in front of them. Yes, Godzilla has babies. Much like Superman, Godzilla is apparently a “baby daddy.” And his babies are susceptible to Vaudevillian slapstick, because when the people are running from hundreds of mini-Zillas, they’re able to get away when Ferris Bueller pushes some basketballs and a gumball machine into their path. Dear God, Godzilla has given birth to the cast of a Hanna-Barbara cartoon. I think I saw that trick on “Jabber-Jaw.”
Of course, the lizards all die in the end, and the most incompetent military in history manages to get out of this mess without accidentally letting off their grenades in the truck or running over their feet with their tanks. But who was it who actually saved the day? The French guy. That’s right, New York got saved by a French guy. Sure, it was The Professional, but he’s still French. And we just can’t have that.
I’m sure most of you have gone through life not having seen this and I would just like to suggest that you keep doing what you’ve been doing. I have just laid my life and my sanity on the line to assure that you continue to do this. Never see this movie. If you have any respect for me at all, you’ll slap anyone across the face who owns this movie. Just do that for me. Now, I’m going to go throw up.
I didn’t go see it, though, and the reviewers ripped it apart. It was one of those times I decided to listen to the critics. Time passed, though, and with the passage of time comes two things: forgetfulness and in some cases, dementia.
In 2003, I met a girl who had “Godzilla” on DVD. She said it wasn’t as bad as everyone said, but I didn’t believe her. I borrowed it from her because I wanted to see just how bad the movie was. I mean, this was a failure of “Waterworld” proportions. The summer of 1998 had “Godzilla” plastered everywhere. There were fast food tie-ins, soft drink promotions, video games, even toys. None of it sold and “Godzilla” became the poster child for summer blockbuster excess.
I started to watch that movie after 30 minutes, I was already doing something else, with absolutely no memory of what I had seen, but I never gave the movie back, because I forgot. Then, came a fateful night in 2007, when my dementia kicked in and I made myself watch the entire movie. What follows is the recollection of my horrible, horrible decision.
In thirty minutes, you should be able to tell if the movie you’re watching is going to suck. Except for “Transformers,” which despite a really good first hour, provided me with two blogs worth of material, every movie pretty much fits into that. After 30 minutes with “Godzilla,” it was pretty easy to see why it flopped. The movie purposely opens in the South Pacific for one reason and one reason only: So they could have an Asian man says “Gojira” on camera.
But besides making fun of the way Asian people talk, this movie was goddamn boring. There’s no other way to say it. I don’t know where moviemakers get the idea that we’d rather see regular humans and government interworkings instead of iconic characters, but “Godzilla” showed Ang Lee and Michael Bay the path that they would later walk with “Hulk” and “Transformers.” And both of those movies were terrible.
For what felt like at least three hours, we got to watch the excitement of a nerd biologist researching a giant lizard and how it got pregnant. Along the way, we got to meet the mysterious Frenchman, the mayor of New York who’s trying to get re-elected, the military guy who’s stuck with the mayor, the governor of New York, the other military guy who’s actually on the ground, a news cameraman and his girlfriend, and an aspiring reporter who just happens to be the ex-girlfriend of the nerd biologist. What do any of these people have to do with a giant lizard rampaging through New York? Except for the nerd and the guy with the guns, not a damn thing.
Honestly, I think the screenwriters forgot what movie they were writing at times, because there were whole hours that went by where they weren’t even talking about the eminent threat to Manhattan and by proxy, life on Earth. I mean, there was a failed relationship to talk about, or the re-election campaign, or the how the ex-girlfriend keeps getting screwed over by her boss at the news station. These are pressing concerns, people! We can’t be bothered with the giant lizard that’s trying to kill us all.
I swear, I thought I was watching Transformers again. Are you sure Michael Bay didn’t direct this?
No, we have the creators of Independence Day to thank for this one. I know this because plastered above the title of the movie is the statement, “From the Creators of Independence Day.” Thanks for telling us that, Dean Devlin and Roland Emmerich. Now, I know where to send the shit sandwich for letting this one get out, sucking harder than the virgin girl who’s dealing with her first ‘materhead. It was the sort of experience that makes old ladies drink and babies explode.
I can only imagine what it was like for the people who actually had to sit through this in the theater, because once you adjust for inflation, the people in 1998 would have paid at least $77 to watch this. At least the people who worked for Tri-Star back then were getting paid for this abuse. Which leads me to wonder…how much money would you accept to let someone kick you in the groin?
The special effects were good, and truthfully, I’ve got no problem with the way Godzilla looked, mainly because he wasn’t a robot Godzilla or a turtle with jets for legs or a giant moth. Clearly, there was no opium usage during the creative process. The short time that you got to see Godzilla actually rampaging through the city was pretty okay. Too bad there wasn’t more of it. But where the awe-inspiring moments left off, the ridiculous scenes took over. For instance…
The first time Godzilla comes into full view, he’s just breaking buildings, running all over the place, doing his thug thizzle. Then, he walks up on the nerd biologist (played by a “trying way too hard to be nerdy” Ferris Bueller), gets right up in his face, and just stares at him. And Ferris Bueller stares right back, with all the childlike wonder he can muster. In the background, the music from E.T. when he makes the bikes fly is playing. I swear it is. Now think about that for a second. The perfect killing machine is standing in front of you, wondering what you taste like, but the music is laying out a mood of magical wonder and jumping over the Army on your bike.
As stupid as that sounds, what’s stupider is…Godzilla just walks away. And what’s stupider than that is, the U.S. Army, who was standing right behind him, had to be told to fire on the giant lizard that just destroyed half the city. I guess they were waiting to see if Ferris Bueller and the lizard were going to share a touching kiss. And who would want to ruin the chance to see some “interspecies erotica?”
Godzilla goes running through the city, outruns the gunships that are firing all over the place, then hides somewhere in the city. I would ask how, but it might ruin the illusion of ridiculousness that this movie has worked so hard to create. Although, you probably should remember this scene of Godzilla running at least 150 miles an hour through Manhattan, because later on he’s unable to catch a cab that’s directly in front of him.
Nor could his babies catch the people that were on foot in front of them. Yes, Godzilla has babies. Much like Superman, Godzilla is apparently a “baby daddy.” And his babies are susceptible to Vaudevillian slapstick, because when the people are running from hundreds of mini-Zillas, they’re able to get away when Ferris Bueller pushes some basketballs and a gumball machine into their path. Dear God, Godzilla has given birth to the cast of a Hanna-Barbara cartoon. I think I saw that trick on “Jabber-Jaw.”
Of course, the lizards all die in the end, and the most incompetent military in history manages to get out of this mess without accidentally letting off their grenades in the truck or running over their feet with their tanks. But who was it who actually saved the day? The French guy. That’s right, New York got saved by a French guy. Sure, it was The Professional, but he’s still French. And we just can’t have that.
I’m sure most of you have gone through life not having seen this and I would just like to suggest that you keep doing what you’ve been doing. I have just laid my life and my sanity on the line to assure that you continue to do this. Never see this movie. If you have any respect for me at all, you’ll slap anyone across the face who owns this movie. Just do that for me. Now, I’m going to go throw up.
I Can't Believe I Rented It - Elektra
Well, truth to tell, I didn’t rent it. It was on FX one weekend, and if you’re the least bit familiar with FX, you know that they can’t show re-runs all the time. There’s no way in Satan’s Hell that I would have spent money to see this movie. It’s not that it was bad. It just wasn’t worth the imaginary money that I wasn’t going to spend.
“Elektra” is a spin-off of a movie that’s only claim to fame is that Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner (Bennifer 2), met on the set. That movie would be “Daredevil,” a movie that was only allowed to be made because “Spider-Man” brought in $403 million dollars. It’s not like anyone was clamoring for “Daredevil”, so judging by that, there might have been about 17 or 18 people looking forward to this.
In the lead role, Jennifer Garner plays a Greek assassin who died, but didn’t die, in “Daredevil.” Instead of trying to get into a blind man’s pants or going after the Kingpin, the man who was trying to have her father and boyfriend killed, she goes after some guy and whispers in his ear from across the room. That leads her to find some kid breaking into her place, who develops a girl-crush on Elektra and tries to hook Elektra up with her dad. Because, you know, there always has to be a love interest in these movies. And because a PG-13 rating and child protection laws won’t let Elektra get down with the girl.
So she goes and has dinner with these people, and in one night, she becomes so attached to these perfect strangers who practice breaking and entering at her house, that when her next assignment is to kill those lovable prowlers, she backs out and risks her life to save them from ninjas.
That led to them going on the run and hearing some claptrap about a ninja clan called the Hand whose members are mostly known for getting killed by Wolverine. And since the ninjas weren’t enough to take down Elektra while she’s rescuing these people, the Hand decide to step outside of their own reality, pull The 8 Devils on Kimon from my “Ninja Scroll” DVD and bring them into this movie.
I swear, anyone who’s seen “Ninja Scroll” knows that all they did was change the names of those guys. Unfortunately, they left all of their excitement and coolness back in the other DVD.
Then, it comes out that the 8 Devils are after the girl, because she’s the treasure or something, which I think might just be a nice way of saying that she’s going to be introduced to the child sex ring in Asia. Apparently, one of the 8 Devils, Typhoid Mary, used to be the treasure, and caught so many diseases that now she can spread them at will. It must be cool to be able to mentally control your gonorrhea.
And after that piece of information is revealed, the girl reveals that suddenly, she is an instrument of destruction who has the fighting skills to shove “the glow” up Leroy Green’s ass. The girl is flat-out awesome. So awesome that she could have, you know, been of use when Elektra was killing herself trying to fight off a horde of ninjas or men who turn into stone all by herself. Apparently, it’s more dramatic to reveal that you can stomp ass when you’re not in any danger.
That led to the girl getting her ass in trouble anyway, the 8 Devils getting killed, and Elektra having a showdown with the son of the boss of the 8 Devils and beating on her just long enough to make the people who have never watched movies before think that she could lose. I hope that was the end, because I really don’t remember much else past that.
I won’t get into the mistake that is casting Jennifer Garner as Elektra, because I really try to temper my “Dork Side” when I write these things. I would question the wisdom of making a movie about a superhero that no one outside of the comic book store has ever heard of. At least Meteor Man was an original creation. I would also question making a stand-alone, spin-off movie for a character who’s only notable story involved all of the main characters from the movie she was spun-off from.
But, having said all that, the movie wasn’t good or bad. It just was. It came on, it had a couple of cool scenes, it didn’t make my blood pressure rise or throw anything at the TV, and it ended, roll credits. It was pretty much a B-movie from the 80s. It was generic as generic can get. If you had added some cats, you could have called it “Catwoman” and no one would have known the difference. And for those who are curious, no, I still haven’t seen “Catwoman.” Unless you count the first time it was released under the title, “Batman Returns.”
“Elektra” is a spin-off of a movie that’s only claim to fame is that Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner (Bennifer 2), met on the set. That movie would be “Daredevil,” a movie that was only allowed to be made because “Spider-Man” brought in $403 million dollars. It’s not like anyone was clamoring for “Daredevil”, so judging by that, there might have been about 17 or 18 people looking forward to this.
In the lead role, Jennifer Garner plays a Greek assassin who died, but didn’t die, in “Daredevil.” Instead of trying to get into a blind man’s pants or going after the Kingpin, the man who was trying to have her father and boyfriend killed, she goes after some guy and whispers in his ear from across the room. That leads her to find some kid breaking into her place, who develops a girl-crush on Elektra and tries to hook Elektra up with her dad. Because, you know, there always has to be a love interest in these movies. And because a PG-13 rating and child protection laws won’t let Elektra get down with the girl.
So she goes and has dinner with these people, and in one night, she becomes so attached to these perfect strangers who practice breaking and entering at her house, that when her next assignment is to kill those lovable prowlers, she backs out and risks her life to save them from ninjas.
That led to them going on the run and hearing some claptrap about a ninja clan called the Hand whose members are mostly known for getting killed by Wolverine. And since the ninjas weren’t enough to take down Elektra while she’s rescuing these people, the Hand decide to step outside of their own reality, pull The 8 Devils on Kimon from my “Ninja Scroll” DVD and bring them into this movie.
I swear, anyone who’s seen “Ninja Scroll” knows that all they did was change the names of those guys. Unfortunately, they left all of their excitement and coolness back in the other DVD.
Then, it comes out that the 8 Devils are after the girl, because she’s the treasure or something, which I think might just be a nice way of saying that she’s going to be introduced to the child sex ring in Asia. Apparently, one of the 8 Devils, Typhoid Mary, used to be the treasure, and caught so many diseases that now she can spread them at will. It must be cool to be able to mentally control your gonorrhea.
And after that piece of information is revealed, the girl reveals that suddenly, she is an instrument of destruction who has the fighting skills to shove “the glow” up Leroy Green’s ass. The girl is flat-out awesome. So awesome that she could have, you know, been of use when Elektra was killing herself trying to fight off a horde of ninjas or men who turn into stone all by herself. Apparently, it’s more dramatic to reveal that you can stomp ass when you’re not in any danger.
That led to the girl getting her ass in trouble anyway, the 8 Devils getting killed, and Elektra having a showdown with the son of the boss of the 8 Devils and beating on her just long enough to make the people who have never watched movies before think that she could lose. I hope that was the end, because I really don’t remember much else past that.
I won’t get into the mistake that is casting Jennifer Garner as Elektra, because I really try to temper my “Dork Side” when I write these things. I would question the wisdom of making a movie about a superhero that no one outside of the comic book store has ever heard of. At least Meteor Man was an original creation. I would also question making a stand-alone, spin-off movie for a character who’s only notable story involved all of the main characters from the movie she was spun-off from.
But, having said all that, the movie wasn’t good or bad. It just was. It came on, it had a couple of cool scenes, it didn’t make my blood pressure rise or throw anything at the TV, and it ended, roll credits. It was pretty much a B-movie from the 80s. It was generic as generic can get. If you had added some cats, you could have called it “Catwoman” and no one would have known the difference. And for those who are curious, no, I still haven’t seen “Catwoman.” Unless you count the first time it was released under the title, “Batman Returns.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)