Day of the dead: When there is no more room in Hell, the crappy remakes will walk the Earth

Before I begin with this, let me start off with a couple confessions.  The first will come as no surprise to my regular reader (all one of him):  I love George Romero.  I consider myself a fan of zombies in general, and Romero’s work in particular.  Having said that, I come to Confession 2: I was not at all enamoured by the third in his trilogy, Day of the Dead.  After two solid works of horror (Night and Dawn), both of which did a fair job moonlighting as social satire, Day was like the red-headed stepchild.  Rather than equal parts fear, humor and satire, with Day, Romero seemed to rely only and completely on a decent premise and lots of gore to carry the feature.  The idea was sound and interesting, but the story seemed to lack the elements that made the first two films great.

Perhaps because of my overall disappointment with Romero’s Day of the Dead, I didn’t approach the 2008 remake with my usual trepidation about such things — especially when I recalled that the Dawn remake of 2004 was actually pretty damned good, all things considered.  I can’t tell you what I expected when I decided to give this movie a chance.  I’ve seen too many remakes to have actually expected an improvement on Romero’s pic.  I do know that I approached this movie with a wide-eyed optimism.  I expected it to not be great. 

But this was a travesty.

First, I’ll discuss the good.  This shouldn’t take long.  The movie starred Mena Suvari, who, in spite of her roles in the American Pie movies (if film has a retarded kid brother, it is the “teen sex comedy”), is actually very talented (see American Beauty).  She and Ving Rhames, who had a bit role, actually did very well in this movie, and sold the plot as well as they possibly could.  Veteren actor Ian McNeice (Sci-Fi’s Dune) plays a pot-smoking, anti-government DJ who is actually a pretty likeable character.  Though the other actors aren’t as well-known, they actually do very well.  Indeed, if anything could have saved this film, it would have been the acting by the principals. 

Aside from the acting, there were some fairly cool effects, but they served mostly to highlight the weaknesses in the movie.  And what are those weaknesses?  Well, actually, the zombies are.  Not the makeup, or the gore effects, which were all very well-done — but as characters. 

I don’t usually consider myself one to get caught up in mythology, but there are certain things you have to account for if you’re going to go off the reservation in an established genre.  Like the fact that these dead, diseased corpses seem to rot immediately after death (not just start to rot — but the second they revive and become the living dead, they develop open sores).  Or the fact that the zombies “retain part of who they were,” but are still, for the most part, flesh-eating monsters — but who are able to think and reason (in our second encounter with a zombie, we discover he has hidden the bodies of his parents after dining on them — and then later pretends to be dead in order to get the jump on his next meal).  Finally, though the creatures are dead, and brain function is supposed to be at a minimum, they appear to have gained superhuman abilities, like jumping at abnormal heights and distances, wall-climbing, etc. 

The zombie problem only compounds the various plot holes, which become more apparent at the end of the movie. 

Caution:  What follows contains spoilers.  Do not read, if you intend to watch this movie.

I think, even more than the hyper-animated corpses, what really got to me about this movie were the wide open plot holes.  For example, before our hero survivors head for the old army bunker, they go to the military roadblock.  The one that’s supposed to quarantine the town.  Nobody is alive — and what soldiers there are have been turned to zombies.  Yet, at the end of the movie, we learn that, in a very short period of time, the plague has been contained.  How?  There was no effective barracade.  Nobody was dealing with it once the heroes left town.  Sure, they blew up a bunch of zombies (did you know that propellants could completely incinerate the human body in mere seconds?  Me neither.), but there were a lot more. 

Then you have the fact that the hero, Sarah (Suvari) is very concerned about Bud, who she refuses to kill even before being certain that he won’t eat her (he’s a vegetarian and has a crush), has no such qualms about running down her mother like a dog in the street.  “It’s not her,” she tells her brother.  Even though Bud, evidently, is still very much Bud.

What’s really annoying here is that this movie had the tools to be great.  They had a good idea from Romero, a pretty decent starting point, the opportunity to improve on the original, a decent cast and good effects.  But the writer botched the hell out of the script, and the director was just not able to overcome its deficiencies.

Another Zombie Flick (that I’m gonna have to see)?

Sony Pictures has an answer, it seems, to George A. Romero’s “Diary of the Dead.”  “Quarantine” follows a TV news reporter (Jennifer Carpenter) embedded with a local fire unit.  They are called to assist at an apartment building, and find police already there, answering a call about screams coming from one of the apartments.  Before the news team can leave, hey discover that the building has been quarantined to contain an unknown virus, which has hit some members of the community, causing them to attack people. 

When the quarantine is lifted, in a moment that is more “Blair Witch” than you’d expect coming from a major motion picture house, rescuers cannot find any resident, and the only evidence left is the tape from the reporter and her camera man.  It’s like “The Blair Witch Project” meets “Night of the Living Dead.”  In other words, it’s a great deal like “Diary of the Dead,” it would seem, only in an apartment building.

But, in the spirit of “just because it’s derivitive doesn’t mean it will suck,” I’m actually looking forward to seeing what they do with this.  (You may remember a certain guilty pleasure I’ve mentioned in the past, regarding zombie flicks.)  Anyway, here’s the trailer.  It’s pretty vague, plotwise, but, damn, can Jennifer Carpenter scream.  Enjoy.

Leave Pavarotti Alone!!

I’m fighting the urge to go Chris Crocker on CNN et al for their recent slow-news-day hits on opera great Luciano Pavarotti.  Sadly, I’m neither skinny, gay nor annoying enough to pull off a convincing Crocker.

The upshot is, the guy who conducted Pavarotti during the Olympics in Turin (Luciano’s final performance) says that, due to the pain caused by his pancreatic cancer, Pavarotti lip-synced during that performance.  Oh No! 

More annoying than the fact that major news agencies consider this news, is headlines written by people like the asshole who wrote, “Luciano Pavarotti: His Lips Did Lie,” as though one of the most talented male opera singers to approach to genre deserves to be likened to Milli Vanilli or Ashley Simpson.

I don’t know why the news orgs have to hate on Pavarotti.  The man’s already dead.  Even if he somehow managed to piss off Ted Turner (which, I suspect, he must have done),  I can’t imagine that a minor besmirching of his name postmortem is the “fate worse than death” that the media evidently wishes to inflict. 

Next thing you know, they’ll be claiming his eyebrows were fake.

Leave Pavarotti alone, you bastards!

My New Favorite People

Okay, I admit it: I have a bit of an anarchist streak.  I get a peculiar joy out of people causing random chaos.  Rush Limbaugh’s Operation Chaos amuses the hell out of me, for example.  An Englishman who dressed up in gold lame’, wore a mask, and called himslef the Angle Grinder Man will forever be one of my favorite real-life superheros.  And, the second I learned about Flash Mobbing, I wanted to be part of one.  But there stands a group now who takes the simple flash mob and elevates it to an art form.  That group is Improv Everywhere.

This group sets up “missions” in public places in which they do some performance piece, slightly disrupting and altering the days of those who witness it.  The first of theirs I saw was the by now well-known Grand Central Station freeze:

 

And among their latest is a totally out-of-nowhere musical performed by people who had, until they started singing, seemed like normal mall workers and patrons. 

 

Sheer brilliance.
(h/t to rifftrax for showcasing the musical)

Why the Knight Rider TV movie didn’t suck

Knight Rider, the 2008 TV movie, has been graciously provided by moviesfoundonline.com, and thanks to them, I was finally allowed the chance to see it.  This “backdoor pilot” (so-called because it may lead to a TV series, but wasn’t necessarily designed to) stars Justin Bruening (One Life to Live and All My Children) and Deanna Russo (The Young and the Restless). 

The movie was a touch over-acted (what else do you expect in movie carried by soap opera stars?), but the cameos and supporting cast did much, both to temper the acting dynamic and to stave off the annoyance that comes with it.  Character actor Bruce Davison was well-chosen for the part of K.I.T.T. creator Charles Graiman.  But the real coup for the producers was getting Val Kilmer to give voice to the car.

Only in television do you find A-list stars playing ventriloquist to machinery while younger and less experienced ensemble actors carry the show.

Still, those familiar with mid-80s action-adventure television, and specifically with David Hasselhoff’s work in it, should see the minor overacting in this one as more of an homage.  Indeed, the whole tone of the show was remeniscent of the genre, and did it well. 

Other things to like about it: the car is much cooler, if you can get past the minor annoyances regarding the bad science involved in camoflaging said vehicle.  Kilmer really does make a good KITT, though I’d have like to see better lines written for him.  The orginal KITT really had some pretty good lines, and I’d have like to see something similar for the new one — as was, it was almost a waste of their A-lister.

The opening credits did make me smile, however.  As the familiar opening keyboard gave way to the house/industrial makeover, I even smiled wider.  Okay, I enjoy house/industrial.  Sue me.  Oh, here’s the opening sequence, if you’re interested.

 

One final reason the movie didn’t suck.   Two words: The Hoff.  As the movie progressed I realized how very, very disappointed I’d be if Hasselhoff failed to make an appearance.  Especially once it had set up as a sequal instead of a reimagining, and that, further, Michael Knight was the main character’s father.  If he hadn’t shown up, the producers would have required a firing first, and then perhaps being hung by their fingernails in the Chinese Hell of the Crappy TV Movie Producers.  Fortunately, though in very wide demand in Germany, Mr. Hasselhoff was both available and able to be persuaded to make a cameo appearnance. 

Good on you, producers.

If you haven’t seen it, it’s worth checking out.  I even almost hope they go ahead with the series.  God knows, Bruening and Russo could stand to move on from Soap Opera stardom.

Establishing my Browncoat Cred: Firefly Companions and then some

Last week, I finally picked up the “Firefly” Official Companion — both volumes.  Point of interest: you can get both for a pretty decent price over at Amazon.  Had a bit of money left over, so I also got the comic, “Serenity: Those Left Behind,” which, for fans who haven’t read it, goes a bit further into what happened between the final episode of “Firefly,” and the beginning of “Serenity” — including why Shepard Book left the ship.

The Companions (a word which, as a Browncoat, I have some trouble saying in reference to a book) are mostly comprised of some concept art, photos and scripts (if you have both books, you get scripts for every single episode, which is great).  Also included is some production trivia and commentary which, though it doesn’t further your journey into the “Firefly” universe, is a great way for fans to get better acquanted with the thought processes of Joss Whedon, the producers, writers, actors and staff.

Fans may have hoped for a little more concept art, and perhaps a bit more commentary, but what you get is still great.  For one, it’s nice to be able to read the translations of the Chinese spoken throughout the shows and finally be able to know just what it is the characters are saying.  That itself is both enlightening and, often, hilarious.

Personally, I’d have liked a bit more insight into the “Firefly” universe, though the books do a pretty good job with it.  One thing I’d have liked to see is the official rules for “Tall Card.”  In the DVD commentary, Adam Baldwin mentions that there were official rules, though according to the Firefly Wiki (linked above), that may have been an error on his part.  But still.

In short, the Companions are great for any Browncoat.  Personally, now that both volumes are available, I wouldn’t bother getting one without the other.  For one, Volume II completes an interview with Joss Whedon started in Volume I.  For another, you can get both for about 30 bucks, and a fan who reads the first volume will miss the completion of the second.

The comic, “Serenity: Those Left Behind” is a great addition to the Firefly story, as I mentioned above.  The most eye-opening thing about it is the furtherance of Book’s character, and the near-dissolution of his relationship to Mal.  The book, much like anything produced after the show, was created for fans — and like everything else, the care with which it was crafted shows the depth of Whedon’s appreciation for them.

Though there are many other items that any Browncoat would love to have, such as books of essays on the philosophy and universe of “Firefly,” documentaries, etc., these three volumes are a heck of a good way to start your collection.  Well, these, and an “I aim to misbehave” t-shirt.

The Cult of Film I: “The Last Shark”

To explain the 1981 Italian hack-job known as “L’ Ultimo Squalo (The Last Shark),” I would direct the reader’s attention first to a pretty bad Bob Dylan impersonator, to be found within about 30 minutes of the movie: a similar sound, but zero substance.  The same could be said about this film, in relation to its source material: “Jaws.”

Before continuing, a note on the title.  “L’ Ultimo Squalo” appears to be the result of an Italian misunderstanding of American misuse of English.  Though we Americans (in our usual, language-bastardizing fashion) often use the word “Ultimate” to mean “best,” “greatest” or something in that vein (for example, The Ultimate Fighter), the root of the word, and the word itself actually mean “Last,” or “end.”  I suspect the Italian filmmakers attempted to appeal to an American audience with a movie about “The Ultimate Shark,” but, rather amusingly, and similar to everything else about this movie, it was lost in the translation.

The movie, made by people who have obviously never bothered to even read a book about sharks, is a blatant “Jaws” rip-off.  The filmmakers never even bothered to hide the fact (although, with characters like a novelist named Peter Benton, they may well have been trying to pretend it was an homage rather than theft –though it may just indicate the exact lack of creativity suggested by the rest of the script).  The plot itself if more full of holes than the surfboard at the beginning of the movie, and you don’t even have to be a particularly careful observer to note the several oddities and inconsistancies in the action — like how a giant Great White is able to swallow a 200-lb man in two gulps, but has trouble with a 20-lb morsel of meat.

Still, the movie is fun for the reasons all bad movies are fun, in an MST3K kinda way.  For this reason, and just because it’s so darned hard to find, it’s certainly worth a look.  Its cult status is due largely to the successful suit brought by Universal, which shut down all exhibition and release of the film in the US.  This has made it available mostly as bootleg or Japanese laserdisc.  Fortunately for us, though, our friends at moviesfoundonline.com have found a copy and made it available for everyone’s — er — enjoyment.

Guilty Pleasure 3: Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter (novels)

Vampires, ultraviolence and explicit sex.  Yup.  Sounds like a Guilty Pleasure to me. 

I picked up Laurell K. Hamilton’s “The Laughing Corpse” almost by accident at the local library.  I quickly followed that up with “Lunatic Cafe,” “Circus of the Damned,” and “The Killing Dance.”  And more followed.  Maybe when I have the chance to look at them again, I’ll actually read them in order.

The Blake series follows an “Animator” — that is, somebody who riases people from the dead for the purposes of gaining information, who moonlights as a vampire hunter.  I don’t know if Ms. Hamilton realizes she’s writing for post-adolescent boys in 30-year-old bodies, or if she honestly believes she’s writing for women — but it is just a damn cool series.

Speaking of Guilty Pleasures, that is also the name of Hamilton’s Anita Blake comic series, published by Marvel.  I also didn’t know this existed until today.  Frick.  ‘Cuz I have all kinds of disposable income. 

Guilty Pleasure, number 2: Zombie fiction

I’ve considered my reasoning for enjoying zombie fiction from every angle.  The truth is, I’m not that big a fan of gore.  There are plenty of gory movies I enjoy — but I don’t watch them for it.  In fact, I’ve often thought I’d have enjoyed George Romero’s “Day of the Dead” a little more had it been less gory.  Strange, considering the subject matter.  So, what, ultimately, is it about zombie movies (and books) that I find so fascinating?

Well, if I’m going to continue my self-psychoanalysis, I suppose I ought to also reveal that I don’t like movies or literature all that much in which the walking dead in question actually talk.  To some extent, I guess, this spoils the concept for me.  I think what it is, is that I find the concept of a soulless human interesting.  I believe in the human soul.  I think it’s part of what makes us who we are.  In fact, I believe it is who we are.  Without it?  Animals, giving in only to instinct.  Hence, the zombie.

 Plus, I just love the hell out of camp horror.

All that said, I am, as you can imagine, waiting with much anticipation the release of the latest Romero film, “Diary of the Dead.”  I still, oddly, haven’t seen “Land of the Dead…” maybe I can make it a twofer.

Obligitory American “Idle” Post for 2008

Okay, first a quick lesson in honesty and political correctness.  This is what happens when Truth is traded for self-esteem:

Look…. I know it might sting, but if your friend really sucks, don’t tell him he sounds like a younger, hipper Frank Sinatra.

Having said that, I’ve decided to throw my hat in the ring, not as the next American Idol, but as the next Simon.  The way I look at it, the guy can’t be long for this world.  You just can’t be forced to sit next to people with next-to no taste telling some snot-nosed reject from a drag choir that, yes, his rendition of Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful” is exactly the sort of thing this competition needs – and not have serious heart problems.  I mean, no wonder the guy’s such a cranky bastard.

So, since Simon’s heart is bound to give out before too long, I would like to offer my services as the sarcastic and mean old man of the show, charged with the task of injecting at least a semblence of taste into the den of mediocrity that is American Idol. 

And so, as an audition of sorts, I have listed some of the kinds of things I could be expected to say to the horrendous auditioners that are both the plague of Simon and (coincidentally, of course) the only reasons I ever deign to watch the show:

“No, you can’t have another try.  Listening to you suck twice won’t make me change my mind.”

“If the worst thing I’ve ever heard before today is a 1, you’re a negative nine thousand eight.”

“Congratulations… your voice is officially the single worst sound on the planet.”

“Oh, your friends said you sound just like Mariah Carey?  And did these denizens of taste and culture happen to mention whether they were talking about before or after her trip into the bowels of hell?”

“I think you need better friends.  A real friend would do everything in his power to keep you off this show.”

“Have you ever seen one of those commercials where they ram a car at 45 mph into a brick wall?  You sound almost exactly like a bird being eaten by a cat being eaten by a dog being eaten by a hyena that failed to move out of the way of that car.”

“Say… did you ever perform in Jonestown?  Because that might explain a few things.”

And, finally, the ever popular, “What… the … hell … was that?”

And so, when Simon finally is driven to his grave by the vast amount of suck aimed in his general direction, I, Randy “R2″ Streu, humbly offer myself in his stead.