Unknown Origin: B
The guy who played Robocop is an 80’s Wall Street goon who is plagued by a giant rat (note: the rat’s actual size fluctuates between small dog to large rat) in his posh NY crib. This guy is such a pussy. He has so many opportunities to kill the fucking rat during this 80’s horror Roadrunner cartoon style B-movie, but, like a little white-collar bitch, he RUNS FROM THE RAT multiple times. There are escalating rat shenanigans that begin as minor annoyances and evolve into violent mayhem in which the viewer can’t help but be impressed by the rat’s problem solving skills.
The catharsis comes when he finally mans up and dons a leather vest with full catcher-gear and smashes his house up while hunting the rat. Wielding a spiked Louisville Slugger, our protagonist finally slays his enemy, who has taken refuge in the cellar (of course) in a to-scale model of the house. In a painfully transparent allegorical ending, Robocop smashes the model house and the rat to smithereens just in time to welcome his rotten white wife and kid home from vacation. Shannon Tweed’s first film.
Here, we have one of those films that tries to tap a very niche audience by taking a classic horror concept and making it extremely XXX sexual.
Alexis Texas is a voluptuous porn star in real life who plays a voluptuous lab worker who aggressively wags her ass around at her myopic boss until they can’t help themselves and they start pounding away in an office building which also houses a laboratory that is conducting some classified genetics-tampering weapons campaign.
In some of Ms. Texas’s other films, this would be what the whole movie is about and then it would end. But this is the 80 minutes long Bloodlust Zombies, so they have to have some other stuff in there besides that pounding.
The Alexis Texas pounding was an inevitable part of the movie that showcases her talents from adult film, but the scene is also brilliant foreshadowing for the magnitude of irresponsibility of people who work in this fucking building. The scientists fuck up and accidentally release a virus and Alexis Texas’s colleagues turn into “bloodlust zombies,” very cheap-looking undead with an appetite for brains and (I’m serious) sex. They are sort of like the zombies in Shivers but they are more biters than they are rapers.
Alexis Texas runs around and screams while zombies try to molest and/or eat her for about an hour. There are some bad jokes. That’s pretty much it.
There is some Teen Ape level production and some extremely feeble carnage. The zombies succeed with some hideous (because of how cheap it looks) molest-murder combos and Texas does her job: scream, squirm in terror, and work up the courage to start chopping up zombies. You probably expected her to suck in this movie, but she is actually no worse than many actresses who play her archetype.
F, but I have seen much worse. Just watch the trailer and you can probably skip the movie…
Dear Reader, I feel blinded by my own rage. I find myself, straining as if against the full force of the arch-fiend and a legion of his most terrible ghouls, straining to an extraordinary degree to fathom a motion picture more entrenched in the realm of predictability, more predestined to be perceived as a pathetic cash-grab prequel. Dare I invoke the lamentable specter of “X-Men Origins: Wolverine”? Or, heaven forbid, “The Scorpion King”? Alas, “The Thing” (2011), in its pitiable attempt to instill dread through unexpected assaults from the entirely computer-generated Thing, wallows in a mire of abject failure. It was only through the most passionate restraint that your humble Keeper did not pierce both of his eyes with red hot pokers!
Gone, oh how painfully gone! is the disquietude and the provocative political allegory that adorned Carpenter’s original masterpiece. Absolutely gone without a blasted trace! In their stead, we are subjected to a barrage of hollow jump-scares and an unyielding void of substance. The so-called scientists inhabiting their Arctic fortress are swiftly confronted by the Thing’s shapeshifting ploys, plunging headlong into the same maddening and deadly chess game that their predecessors from the far superior 1982 film once played. One must tell friend from alien foe to survive: Futile attempt follows futile attempt with the doomed scientists each succumbing to various deluges of CGI-induced torment.
And what of pacing for our chilly arctic thriller?! Here, in the festering anus of 2011 cinema, the frenzied pace obliterates any semblance of genuine suspense or building tension. The supposed “scares” amount to naught but a relentless onslaught of computer-generated nonsense absolutely bereft of the insidious art of psychological and cellular infiltration. And lo, at intervals of approximately twenty minutes – a cruel stretch of time between each sequence of excruciatingly insipid dialogue and mind-numbing exposition! – we are graced with a mandatory jump-scare! A jump-scare drenched in Nintendo-like visual effects, Dear Reader!
I spoke before of my own contemplation of blinding by iron, but during this wretched viewing, I was blinded by celluloid rage! My eyes, blurred by a potent mixture of fury and disillusionment, strained to find solace in the CGI-infested monstrosities. There is a complete absence of Carpenter’s enchanting touch! Do we not reminisce, with a heavy heart, the animatronic marvels that once graced our screens? The decapitated spider-heads and the contorted caterpillar-torsos, dancing on screen like enchanting sugar-plum fairies before being engulfed in the flames of Kurt Russell’s captivating prowess and sizable flamethrower? There is nothing to see, Dear Reader. Only darkness to strain into until death. All who dare to explore the abyss of “The Thing” 2011: Brace yourself for an inexorable descent into this visual desolation.
Yes Dear Reader, the special effects on display invoke the woeful standards set by the “Anaconda” franchise, but what of this story? Alas, the screenplay, laden with the banality of a pedestrian soap opera, fails to evoke even a modicum of artistic merit. Indeed, I dare say, I have endured greater suspense while partaking in the mundane affairs of “General Hospital,” a favorite of my dear mother’s, which I often watched intently by her side. How maddening it is to behold even the trailer for this film, wherein three characters succumb to the insidious clutches of the Thing, thus rendering any semblance of surprise within the film itself utterly nonexistent. In all fairness, I must concede that the scribe of this dreadful mistake of a film did also pen the screenplay for the fantastic film “Arrival,” and because of this, I extend to him my respect and admiration despite this unfortunate 2011 lapse.
As one who deeply loves Carpenter’s film, I cannot help but ponder the hypothetical scenario wherein those involved in the production of this film exhibited even a microscopic regard for the source material from which it was derived. Alas, I can only envision a director, perhaps a disciple of Michael Bay, striding onto the set on the fateful days of filming, with a dismissive remark of the likes of, “So, this creature, is it akin to a monstrous blob of sorts? Well, this will be cake, old chaps! Let’s be quick, now!” before rolling the cameras and commencing desecration. Such a despicable image haunts my tortured mind. It is a ghastly reminder that the film, despite its R rating, adheres to the soulless structure of a cookie-cutter PG-13 profit-generating apparatus, surpassing even the Playstation 2 “The Thing” video game – a favorite of my dear mother’s, which I often played intensely by her side – in its absence of cogitation and labor.
I cannot say I recommend this film to any sane man who hopes to retain the will to draw breath.
When will people learn that putting “revelations” after your movie title will not generate mystique for your piece of GARBAGE? There aren’t even any fucking revelations in this movie!
Two bros (Nico and Steve) from upper-middle class suburbia head to Mexico to abandon their unfulfilling lives of privilege, drink brewskis, and to see a donkey show. Instead, they find the Hellraiser puzzle box and force the audience to watch half of the film through the perspective of their shitty handi-cam that they took with them on their road trip. Both bros are subjected to the extradimensional erotic torture of the cenobites who are led by a Pinhead who has three chins and looks about as scary as a substitute teacher. In between dimensions, the pair slaughter hookers in Mexico for a while, including a Filipino girl who might be 13 in real life. One of the bros betrays the other in a “twist” that is so predictable it will somehow make your dick hurt. Or fallopian tubes or whatever.
Back in America, Steve’s sister is molesting the puzzle box (who cares how she got it), summoning a now demonized Nico (disguised as Steve; how? Shut up) to his parents’ house just in time to interrupt a swanky dinner party and torment both bros’ families. Nonsensical Scooby-Doo-esque panic ensues while the yuppies attempt to get to the bottom of the boy’s strange return. The phone malfunctions, the cars disappear, and the viewer suffers through soap opera acting and absolutely nothing even close to being scary or interesting.
Forget about emergency cell phone calls or the internet or anything else based in logic as you watch this movie. The stranded family begins to learn the truth and finally, the cenobites appear and murder/meat-hook people. I counted three faces being ripped off, one throat being ripped off, two faces getting hooked, a shotgun to the guts, and four off-screen implied kills. I’m not counting any of the stuff we saw in handi-cam vision because it looked how you would expect Blair Witch 5 to look and was a pathetic grope of the “found footage” trend.
The film was supposedly made in two weeks, but I would believe you if you told me two days. Once again, saved from a UV because of how amusingly pathetic it is.
Strap yourself in for the same elements of kidnapping by seduction that results in torture for the amusement of the wealthy elite, but with watered down suspense/gore compared to the other two Hostel films.
Four bros enjoy a bachelor party in Vegas that turns from a titty-fest to a torture-fest real quick. There are some minimal butt cheeks and side-boobs, but nothing world-changing if you had high expectations for the seduction part of the movie, you goddamn pervert.
The torture scenes start off kind of promising when the Zack Morris looking bro gets his face cut off, but they decline steeply when a woman’s insides are devoured by CGI beetles and and another bro is terminated by a point blank, physics-defying, crossbow shot.
There is only an actual hostel in the film for about the first five minutes; the rest of the film takes place in Vegas on the strip and in a somehow unnoticed and secluded desert torture compound that is – you guessed it – rigged with explosives. The main victim-harvester looks like a flawed Tim Lincecum clone and he uses a flip cell phone from 2001 and rocks the bowl-ett (bowl-cut/mullet hybrid), a haircut that would have gotten him laid in 1988. Everyone else looks like Sears catalog models and their acting is what you would expect.
Recycled/amusing butt cheek shots and making fun of broskis is pretty much what saved this movie from an F.
The classic tale of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is experienced from the perspective of the doctor’s maid, Mary Reilly. If you don’t think about it, that sounds like a cool premise. But, think about it: why would I want to experience a story that already has a lot of the action cropped out of it from the perspective of a character who is even more peripheral? Jekyll is always blacking out when he turns into Hyde and part of the story deals with him filling in the horrifying blanks. In this movie, they switch the point of view, but it is pretty pointless because she is a goddamn supporting character.
Maybe I’m biased: I’m not into Julia Roberts, but I’m not going to go into that here. She’s America’s Sweetheart, but she ain’t my sweetheart. She isn’t awful, but she is really hit r miss for me, personally. However, I love Malkovich, so maybe my biases cancel out.
The movie is boring. That is the best word for it. It is just glacial in every way. Hyde gets into some murderous shenanigans, almost getting caught like fifty times by various flat characters with really really fake accents. Julia Robert breathes through her mouth a lot and her eyes get really big. Wow, what a talented actress. She views most of the movies excitement from around corners or sort of hears it from the other room. Fucking WHY? Such a pointless film.
There is some shameful CGI when Malkovich morphs; it makes the snake from Anaconda look like real life. The only reason it doesn’t get an “F” is because it is worth watching so you can see Malkovitch prance around like a sexual werewolf. He’s pretty funny. If there’s some paint drying anywhere in your home, you might want to watch that instead. But just glance at the paint from around the corner and occasionally gasp and go “oh dear!” in your worst British accent.
If you went to this movie expecting to see something better than the original Evil Dead, what were you thinking? Have you not seen the remakes of Texas Chainsaw Masacre, Friday the 13th, or Nightmare on Elm Street? It really grinds my gears when people have skyscraper expectations for these remakes of films from another era. The remakes probably won’t be as good. Even if they are awesome, your own nostalgia has probably set up an unrealistic, untouchable expectation. So if you were expecting Bruce Campbell’s spasming eyebrows: get over it.
That being said: This movie was great. Tons of blood, gore, monsters, and all the iconic stuff you love about the original film. There were 1st person camera shots, severed appendages, choral deadite voices threatening to swallow souls, a Necronomicon, and, of course, the trap-door cellar.
There was comedy, but nothing like Evil Dead 2. I wouldn’t call it a splat-stick. The makeup was rad and the kills were fantastic. No off-screen cop outs or gratuitous CGI; you get to see beautiful teenagers smashed and slashed. I can’t remember the last time I saw this much blood in a movie. I’ll say there is even more than Dead Alive.
BLOODCRYPT 