And we're back. So my wife and I are kind of watching but mostly re-watching all of Elvis's movies. I'm going to be randomly reviewing them as we go along, especially when they are weird or just very, very special. Check out Part 1 if you missed it.
I've never taken a Valium before but I believe that Paradise, Hawaiian Style from 1966 is exactly what it feels like to take one, maybe. In this nearly plotless travelogue, Elvis plays Rick Richards, a pilot fresh out of the Air Force that starts an island-to-island helicopter taxi/sightseeing service in Hawaii with his pal Danny (played by James Shigeta (Die Hard)). Of course, Rick is a horny fool with a girl on every island and pretty much screws up everything. And there's a love interest in the form Suzanna Leigh (Lust for a Vampire) and a goofy kid character as well: Danny's daughter Jan (played by Donna Butterworth).
Rick's other love interests are irritating at best and are played by Marianna Hill, Irene Tsu, Linda Wong, and Julie Parrish. They act sexy and then angry. There you go. Hill gets the most screen time but her character is such a jerk that you just want to beat her to death with a cocoanut. Fans of obscure horror films, like myself, will slap their foreheads with this bit of trivia: Marianna Hill starred in the weird and wonderful apocalyptic zombie film, Messiah of Evil in 1973.
Overall, I really dig Paradise, Hawaiian Style. Unfortunately, there's no guitar porn (one of the band members has a pretty cool looking hollow body electric but that's about it) and the kid character may get on your nerves though she wasn't a deal-breaker. The main thing I noticed is how relaxing all of the scenery and most of the music is. It just lulls you into a happy state with only the machinations of the story occasionally getting in the way.
Standout scenes:
An air hostess (that's what they called them back then!) says the title of the movie in the first 2 minutes.
Elvis flying a helicopter with a pretty girl and a cockpit full of mentally disturbed dogs.
When it comes to Elvis Presley's music, I'm a little ignorant. I know he wrote "Hey Jude", "When the Levee Breaks", and that "Allison" song or whatever. But when it comes to the movies he starred in... Well, what can I say? That's my shit, "Hound Dog"! I am going to just randomly talk about Elvis movies I've seen in a few installments. Be sure to Tweet if you like it or Snapchat or something! :P
Clambake is a wonderful of example of Elvis not giving a fuck anymore. There are several scenes in this film where his emoting amounts to a drowsy stare that gives me the creeps. The plot in one sentence: The son of a wealthy oil tycoon trades places with a water ski instructor to see if he can make it on his own, impress a girl, and win a boat race.
Between the aforementioned abysmal Presley-acting, Bill Bixby playing a villain we're supposed to kind of like(?), hippie happening-esque moments in the vein of "Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In", boring boat racing, and a horrifyingly schmaltzy musical number called "Confidence" -think of it as the worst rendition of "High Hopes" you can imagine but worse- this movie is all over the place. The insane cuteness of Shelly Fabares (I'll be getting back to her in Girl Happy and Spinout) and the eye candy from the female extras kind of win me over, truth be told.
Fans of cool cars, Fender guitars, wacky situations, garish cinematography, and above all, bad friggin' movies, need only apply. Don't get me wrong, this one is staying in my collection because it is so enjoyably bad. Even the DVD from MGM looks like no one gave this movie a second thought. This has one of the poorest transfers I've seen an Elvis movie get so far. Pretty sad.
This is a movie challenge featuring Brad and Richard choosing movies for each other to watch.
This could get ugly.
Round 3
Richard: Like you, I was not a fan of musicals. The whole concept of song and dance numbers in movies used to piss me off. Luckily, my wife showed me that there are good musicals out there. Top Hat was the first Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers film that I saw and I have yet to find one of their collaborations that I love more. (Don't listen to the fans who claim that Swing Time is the best because it's only okay AND it has a cringe inducing black-face number that ruins everything.) Just one thing I hope you'll find in the Astaire/Rogers movies is the surreality of it all: the clunky parts of the plot and the bizarre setpieces that are there literally just so there can be another excuse to dance and sing. And damn it, Top Hat just makes me happy! That's entertainment.
Brad: If you are trying to trick me into liking musicals, it is working. I love the balance between the songs and dances and the screwball comedy. Fred Astaire is a much better actor than I thought he was, very charming. Ginger is quite the looker too! The supporting players are top notch as well, the valet in particular was hilarious. Taken in as small booster shots, I can see rethinking some of the musical genre. Thanks!
Brad: You need to see Brutal Massacre: A Comedy because it is the Christopher Guest style mockumentary for horror films. It has quite a few horror film icons, Ken Foree steals the show and David Naughton proves he was no one trick werewolf. I dare you to not laugh.
Richard: Talk about an easy sell. A dark comedy about an independent horror movie production spinning out of control? Count me in. I vaguely remember hearing about this movie a few years ago and being excited about it. Of course, it slipped into my vaguest of half-remembered movie queues and I was glad you encouraged me to check it out. This movie is often very funny and I found it charming even when it wasn't. The pacing is a little off and I was ready for Brutal Massacre to be over before the running time was up. Other than that though, I really dug this movie.
Every journey, even a purple one, has to come to an end. After subjecting ourselves to the terror of Graffiti Bridge and the accidental masterpiece that is Under the Cherry Moon, my friend Nafa and I had to complete the Prince film cycle. The thing that worried us the most was that Purple Rain would just be a good movie. How the hell are we supposed to deal with Prince just being in a good film? Before we could know the answer to that, we dug on Sign 'o' the Times.
So anyway, I was fully prepared to rename this film to Sigh… No… The Times(?). But I’ll be damned if this isn’t one of the best concert films ever made. It starts off all artsy fartsy like Graffiti Bridge and then it soars into a funk explosion sensation. As I’ve stated before, I don’t like funk but I caught my foot tapping all by itself throughout nearly all of Sign ‘o’ the Times. Oh my God, that bass solo. Nafa, rewind that. Thanks to this film, I finally understand what the hell all the fuss is about.
The artsy stuff I mentioned are dramatic scenes featuring members of Prince’s band acting out some lame ass poetry/dialogue. The funniest of these is when the guy in the fuzzy hat complains about his woman to the bartender. What’s his beef? Well, his woman wants old fuzzy hat to talk to her. Oh wow, poor guy. Who talks to their women, seriously? And the weird thing is that the bartender totally understands! It’s moments like these, hidden inside this wildly entertaining concert flick, that threaten to ruin everything. But if you think about it, Prince’s overwhelming pretentiousness is part of the reason why his films are so amazing.
Since we watched Graffiti Bridge back in January, Nafa and I have developed a perfect method for viewing Prince’s films. I walk over to Nafa’s place from my apartment around 5:30 and go out to Zaxby’s. This is fine dining at its finest. Once we are stuffed with chicken and fries, we go to Wal-Mart. I’m not sure why but I think it’s to get cheap snacks and drink. For Purple Rain, I got some grape Faygo (though I really wanted Mountain Dew Distortion) in order to have something purple to drink. The only other soul joining us on our funk sojourn is Nafa’s cat, Buddha.
There are SPOILERS all up in this bitch, yo.
So Purple Rain begins and in the fabulous and infectiously energizing opening montage, we get to see Morris Day picking out his outfit. Immediately, I realize what was wrong about Sign ‘o’ the Times: NO MORRIS OR JEROME! Well, this movie fixes that. Thank Jesus. I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that Prince’s world is centered in Minneapolis. Once again, the lunacy of Prince’s world is that his band is always competing against Morris Day and The Time. Yeah I know, I’ll talk more about this later. Oh yeah, Prince’s name in this movie is The Kid. Oh fuck. Not again. Hey, Jerome just threw a woman in a dumpster because she was annoying Morris.
Apollonia shows up wanting to sing in The Kid’s band. She gets introduced to the man himself and he just fucking stands there staring at the back of her head. When she finally gets the courage to speak to him, he’s gone. Unbelievable. The club owner (this morbidly obese black dude in a track suit) wants to ditch The Kid because he doesn’t draw a big enough crowd. Sigh. What the hell? So The Kid goes home and his dad is beating the crap out of him mom. His dad is played by one of the most intense black actors in film history: Clarence Williams III. Now I didn’t even spot this until IMDB pointed out this insanely obvious fact to me: The Kid’s mom is played by Olga Karlatos from Zombie. Holy crap, y’all. This is nuts. The Prince and Lucio Fulci connection is finally established. They said it could never happen.
“You have to purify yourself in the waters of Lake Minnetonka.”
This movie has a potty mouth! There can be no swearing in a Prince film. Wait, why is Apollonia riding on the back of The Kid’s motorcycle? Did I miss something? Are they dating now? The Kid convinces Apollonia to strip and jump in the lake. This caused a minor explosion of screams from me. First of all, NUDITY IN A PRINCE FILM!?!?!? Secondly, Apollonia has a superb rack. I mean, like outrageously nice. I could go on and on but I won’t. Great rack. I mean it. Even if you don’t want to see this movie, you have to check her bobbins out.
So what happened to Prince in his other films? Did he mistake aloofness for charm or something? I mean, The Kid is a total dick in Purple Rain. He smacks around Apollonia and he treats his band like shit. Especially when Wendy and Lisa want to share a song THEY WROTE. The nerve of some people! If I wrote a song and The Kid was talking to me with ventriloquism, I would be all like “Yeah, why don’t you go back to your parents’ basement, you fucking dick!?!” Yet, Prince is still charming as hell in this movie. Something that he would lose by the time he got to Graffiti Bridge. So yeah, The Kid’s home situation is pretty bad. His dad is a failed musician and he is insane. He beats his mom and then shoots himself in the head.
The Kid nearly loses his mind and even has a vision of hanging himself. Geez duder, do you have to be just like your old man? He takes the music that the girls wrote and combines it with his dad’s music to make the song “Purple Rain”. So on the night of nights at the club, he has to prove to the club owner that he has what it takes to rock the joint. Morris Day teases him about his dad shooting himself but then feels really, really bad about it. Holy shit, Morris can act! So The Kid and the band get on stage and he surprises them all by busting out “Purple Rain”. This is pretty much one of the most perfect moments in any movie ever. They play the song and practically the whole band is crying. It’s nuts. Then The Kid comes back from cooling off backstage and tears the place apart with funk. Pure brilliance.
So what’s my problem with this movie? It’s the same thing that’s wrong with Graffiti Bridge. (Okay, EVERYTHING is WRONG with Graffiti Bridge.) The fact that Prince has to compete with Morris Day for two things: 1) the headlining gig at a nightclub and 2) a woman. Give me a fucking break! How is this even remotely possible. I’m not saying Morris isn't ugly and I’m not saying that Prince isn’t short. And they’re both equally freakish in their own respective ways. But Prince is obviously a hotter duder and his music eclipses anything The Time ever did. So aside from the fact that the plot hinges on something that doesn’t make any dang sense, Purple Rain is totally great.
Okay, Nafa and I agree that it's time to watch Graffiti Bridge again. Who's with us?
Thanks to my wife, I have actually seen some decent musicals and Gigi is one of them. The film is charming, funny, beautiful, and totally disturbing. Here, let me show you. First things first, turn of the century France is a dangerous and terrible place. Then Maurice Chevrolet shows up and talks about how great little girls are. He says he means when they grow up but I think he's a pedobear. He casually mentions that the story we are about to see is about Gigi (played by Leslie Caron). Not Gigli. That's a different sicko freakfest. No, Gigi, my sweet. You are damned. You must run. Don't let the sugar magnate catch you.
Gigi is a happy go lucky schoolgirl with a miserable old biddy grandma for a guardian. Her name is Mamita and she sends Gigi to an old crone named Aunt Alicia who is training Gigi to be a classy lady (whore) because Gigi's mother is too busy with her acting (whoring) career to deal with her own daughter. Aunt Alicia wears a choker because she has to hide all the scars on her throat. So many assassination attempts... This old snobby slut feeds Gigi some dead sparrows and makes her chew on the bones. Aunt Alicia instructs her to look down her nose at everyone and instills in her an unhealthy appreciate of jewelry. Wow, Gigi's life really sucks. The whole point of all this is for her to land a man. Not for marriage though! This is just so she can be some duder's mistress. Nice job setting your eyes on the prize, ladies.
Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself. That man-whore Maurice Chevrolet has a nephew (man-whore in training) named Gaston (Louis Jourdan) who is a rich and spoiled son of a sugar billionaire or some shit, I don't know. He thinks everything is a great big bore. But you know what? He's right. This is frickin' France. It is B-O-R-I-N-G! Gaston, please do us all a favor and fucking kill yourself.
"An ugly black cigar is love," Gigi says. She doesn't understand the Parisians. Don't worry, babe, no one else does either. Gigi and Gaston are like second cousins once removed or something like that. She cheats at cards but that's okay because Gaston is dating Eva Gabor (not the one that slapped the cop) so he's not all that bright in the first place. Eva Gabor is cheating on him with a rollerskating instructor (no, I'm not making that up) but he sees right through her lying Hungarian eyes. To keep his stupid male pride, Gaston confronts his woman about screwing Disco Stu. Through all this crap, we get to see the social structure of Paris back in the early 20th century. Holy shit, it's like The Crucible! All of these losers deserve a painful death involving white hot knives going into orifices that normally don't accept white hot sharp objects.
What is Maurice Chevrolet's advice to Gaston? What else would a man-whore tell a man-whore in training to do? Go screw every woman (and a couple of dudes) in France. That'll make you feel better! Gaston gets bored after a while and shows up at Mamita's place. They get Gigi drunk on champagne, sing a song about it, and then it's off to the seaside. Gaston and Gigi play in the water and ride donkeys while Chevy meets up with Mamita and they reminisce about when they used to get it on. So yeah, as I suspected, Maurice Chevrolet was a fucking dickhead scumbag (no, he hasn't changed at all) and he just barely realizes that maybe, just maybe, he screwed up the only good and real thing that has ever happened in his life. Does he change his ways? No, he's a lecherous bastard the rest of the movie. Big shocker.
Later...
Aunt Alicia: What the fuck, bitch? You took Gigi to the seaside with Gaston?
Mamita: Yeah, so?
Aunt Alicia: So... Did you ever think that Gigi...
Mamita: Gigi, what?
Aunt Alicia: That Gigi could be our little meal-ticket to Gaston's sugar fortune? All we have to do is dress her up like a Parisian whore and he'll totally go for it.
Mamita: Hey, good plan! Let's do it.
So these stupid old jerks intensify Gigi's training so that she can be Gaston's mistress. Notice how they're not even trying to get him to marry her. Ugh, the French are such sickos. Anyway, Gaston pays a visit and flips his lid when he sees Gigi dressed up like an adult. You see, he wants Gigi to stay a little girl forever. Heh heh heh heh. Mamita lets him know that Gigi is on the market and he flips out... again. Gaston then sings a song about how Gigi is still a baby and a tot. Then he realizes she's a hottie. "Oh, what miracle has made you the way you are?" It's called puberty, dumbass. So he comes back and says "Uh yeah, I was just kidding, she's totally old enough."
They work out a financial arrangement for him to take Gigi to his bed. Mamita explains everything to Gigi and she's all like "Oh thanks, asshole, now I'm going to be Gaston's whore." Gigi flips out, understandably, and refuses Gaston. It gets worse when he admits that he loves her. We get more bullshit between Gigi and Gaston, Maurice Chevrolet sings a song about how he can't get it up anymore, and then Gigi gives in.
They go on their big date and things go wrong when Gaston realizes that that dumb idiot Mamita and perilous beyatch Aunt Alicia have totally screwed Gigi up. She acts too much like Eva Gabor now, damn it! As an added bonus Maurice Chevrolet is there and he's like "Nice job, I likes 'em young, too." Gaston drops Gigi like a bad habit and runs off to reflect for a while. Then he goes back to the apartment and asks Mamita if he can marry Gigi. Whoa, what a great guy! Although, I suspect that he just did it because it's cheaper to marry her then pay for an apartment where he can keep her chained up for sex and stuff. God, I love this movie! It teaches values that are lost on today's generation.
There's gonna be spoilers but you know you don't care.
Back in January, my life changed forever when Nafa put on Prince’s Graffiti Bridge as a joke and we ended up watching the whole thing. It turns out that the joke was on us. Last week, I demanded that we watch Under the Cherry Moon. You see, Nafa is an ardent Prince fan but he hadn’t until recently given his full attention to The Funky One’s films. I used to think Prince was cool but then he scared me off with that hat with the friggin’ gold chains obscuring his face. Plus, I despise funk music. Okay, I appreciate the musicianship and the opportunity to be a music nerd about it but I promise you that I am not a funky person. At least not in a musical sense.
In Under the Cherry Moon, two Miami sleazeballs, Christopher Tracy (played by Prince), a complete douchebag ladies’ man and his partner, Tricky (Jerome Benton), scam the rich ladies of the French Riviera to pay the rent. When Tricky learns of an heiress (Kristin Scott Thomas) who is set to inherit $50 million dollars, the two creeps move in for the kill. However, Tricky falls for Mary the heiress and ends up competing with Christopher for her affections. Their biggest obstacle (besides each other) is Mary’s father (Steven Berkoff), who has his own scheme in place for his daughter’s money. Throw in some murderous clowns and a doomsday device and you’ve got a right kerfuffle! Yeah, I made up that last bit.
The first thing I noticed about Under the Cherry Moon is that (and this was from just the first few seconds) it doesn’t completely suck. For a second there, I was enraged. How dare Prince make something that wasn’t insanely terrible and disastrously un-entertaining? I was accustomed to the atomic strength irony or unthinkable sarcasm that I felt when viewing Graffiti Bridge so I was taken aback by the similarities UCM has with real movies. I mean, God help me, I really liked this film. Hold up. Wait a minute. Just because it isn't a total turd doesn't mean this movie isn't awful in its own way. The lines of what is meant to be a joke and what is meant to be taken seriously are so blurry, you'll get a migraine.
Get ready for the biggest piece of trivia about this film: before Prince took over the direction of UCM, Mary Lambert was the director. Wait, why is that name familiar? She directed Pet Semetary and Pet Semetery II. But here comes the big one: Mary Lambert directed Halloweentown II: Kalabar’s Revenge! My mind is swirling now. Lost in the abyss. That’s the one where people’s Halloween masks become their real faces. Doesn’t this explain everything? I’m channeling Joe Pesci in JFK with this one, kids. No? Okay, let’s move on.
The spotlight, which is supposed to be on Prince, is stolen by Jerome Benton. Not only is this guy a charismatic and handsome dude, he is also blessed with perfect comic timing. Every scene he’s in makes the movie worth watching. He and Prince are a righteous comic duo and are totally fearless when it comes to getting a laugh. The gay over/undertones are jaw-dropping. I think Prince and Jerome are better in this movie than Morris Day and Jerome are in Graffiti Bridge. Even Kristin Scott Thomas gets in on the gags and she is totally brilliant. For example, ‘Wrecka Stow’:
I determined that Graffiti Bridge was heavily influenced by Solarbabies. Well, UCM wears its filmic inspirations on its frilly sleeve. I see lots of Charlie Chaplin and Groucho Marx in here. Plus, the place reeks with Fellini’s 8½. One thing that really helps the film with its faux-classic vibe is the fact that it was shot in color but was released in black & white. The cinematography by Michael Ballhaus is incredible and even more incredible is Steven Berkoff. Both Nafa and I were wracking our brains trying to remember where we’d seen this guy before. After the movie was over, IMDB told us it was the evil guy from Beverly Hills Cop. I was pretty embarrassed. How the fuck could I have forgotten that? Oh yeah, I’m trying to forget Eddie Murphy ever existed.
One part where the film fails miserably is Prince's and Kristin Scott Thomas' total lack of kissing chemistry. The minute these two lock lips, it's all over. It looks like Prince is trying to eat Thomas' face. Maybe that’s not entirely accurate. He looks like he’s trying to knock her unconscious with his beautiful lips. God help her, she's trying to keep up. I usually don't talk about a dude's kissing style but Prince, duder, you need to work on that action. These are seriously uncomfortable scenes to watch. Speaking of discomfort, where are the fucking musical sequences? This movie only has three, I think. Lame.
The fatal flaw however comes during the final ten minutes or so when the pacing takes a total shit. Instead of ending gracefully, we get a hokey boat chase. Mm... Hokey boat chase. Sounds delicious. When all seems lost, Prince goes for the tragic hero bit and it is a god damned riot. When he falls to the ground after getting shot, we see that the son of a bitch has been wearing high heels during the entire film. Un-fucking-believable. This was probably the most important moment and not just in the film. I’m talking about IN MY LIFE. Let’s put Robocop and Repo Man aside for a second here, Prince waits until the final moments of the film to reveal his footwear. Was this predicted in the book of Revelations 69:69 or what?
So what the hell is this movie? I’ll tell ya. It’s a serious arthouse farce that shouldn’t be taken seriously, seriously. Or maybe it’s a documentary. This is what Prince’s life is like every fucking day. Now I really want to believe that Graffiti Bridge is a documentary. If it was, I might be able to find peace (not funk) before I die. I will say a couple of things on Prince’s behalf. First of all, I can’t wait to watch this movie again. And secondly, the scenes in Under the Cherry Moon not graced by the presence of Prince nor Jerome Benton are lifeless and lame. It’s like those connecting bits in Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers’ movies where neither of them on the screen and everything comes to a complete standstill. So… hottest couple of 1986: Prince and Kristin Scott Thomas? WRONG! The answer is Prince and Jerome Benton, y’all.
I feel like shit. So why not punish everyone? I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you guys. You're good people. You're just sitting there, lampin', and I'm being a hater. Hate the hater not the game, yo. I was just thinking about what I'd rather be doing than sitting here on an hour and a half of sleep and feeling my blueberry muffin churning around in my guts. Well, it's not boogie boarding! I would rather be watching movies. And for some reason, I want to talk about my current favorite non-horror flicks. Why? Because my wife LeEtta was talking her top 5 favorite films last night and I want to beat her to the punch. It's the blog form of spousal abuse. Actually we were watching the Rotten Tomatoes show and Alexis Bledel was talking about her favorite movies of all time and Forrest Gump was one of them. WTF?
If you had asked me 8 or 9 or 10 years ago what my favorite movies were, I would have said (without hesitation) Repo Man, Bottle Rocket, Buffalo '66, Rushmore and Last Tango in Paris. Ouch. Now Repo Man is still golden but I don't even own a copy of it right now. That tends to happen when you stop watching a movie you spent years of your life memorizing. I'll return to it someday. And I'll always have Last Tango in Paris. Pass the butter. Why I used to be so obsessed with Wes Anderson is a mystery to me. I think I mentioned my emo-ness in my last Wednesday Ramble. But yeah, I'm 33 and I'm a totally different person now. (Not really.) Most of this list is populated with things that my wife has introduced me to. Her influence is profound (as you'll soon see).
Hey, it's not Wednesday and I'm rambling anyway. Shit. I am insanely tired. So my current list of five favorite non-horror movies looks a lot like this.
5. Up in Arms (1944)
Up in Arms isn't the best Danny Kaye movie out there but it is pretty good. The biggest problem is that this one is a wartime comedy so there's a bunch of propaganda (tolerable (some actually played for laughs)) and an unfortunately racist portrayal of Japanese soldiers (not tolerable). Luckily, those things are brief and the rest of the movie is silly madness. This film is also one of Dinah Shore's few movie appearances and she is underwear-soilingly hot. Well, in a 1944 kind of a way, I guess.
Here's the dreamy musical number I want to live inside forever:
4. Bewitched (2005)
I passed on seeing Bewitched in theaters with my wife. Instead, I went and saw Land of the Dead. This was a good decision. But then we bought Bewitched and we've watched it over and over again since then. An oddly restrained Will Ferrell and a kooky Nicole Kidman in a box office flop about a TV studio that accidentally hires a real witch to play Samantha in a remake of "Bewitched". Huh? How does that work? How does that NOT work?!?!?! This movie is charming as hell. Gee, I'm as shocked as you are.
Did I say restrained? Never mind. Skip to 45 seconds...
3. The Music Man (1962)
Well, this is a surprise (maybe). Another musical? I avoided The Music Man for years because I assumed it was some shitty ass shit like South Pacific or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Wrong. This is a colorful, clever, over-the-top, wholesome (ugh) and pitch perfect (hey-o!) musical with a lotta heart. How many movies mentioned on this blog have 'a lotta heart'? The count is now up to one movie. We gave the version of The Music Man with Matthew Broderick a try but it was a sickly piglet compared to the original. Robert Preston rulez!
And THIS is one of the finest musical numbers of all time:
2. Get Over It (2001)
Searching for the perfect teen comedy? It's been found and it's called Get Over It. Yeah, I know. This list is taking you inside a part of my brain that I'd rather you didn't know existed. No turning back now, homey. LeEtta and I are crazy over Ben Foster and this film is why. He takes the lonely loser hero and propels it to a level of greatness. The film also has Martin Short as a drama teacher. Plus, Get Over It features Kirsten Dunst before she... Well... I guess Dunst is still Dunst. I'm so not complaining. Before I get too off track here, if you have a thing for silly teen flicks, Get Over It has some twisted and genuinely hilarious moments hidden in there. Watch repeatedly.
Here's the trailer (in FRENCH for some reason):
1. Josie and the Pussycats (2001)
And last but not least, Josie and the Pussycats! I hope you didn't think that Get Over It was going to be the only teen comedy on this short list. If you had told me back in 2001 that one day I would LOVE Josie and the Pussycats, I would have slapped your face off. But this film has a secret: it's funny as hell. It is much smarter than I thought it would be and it has hot chicks. I don't expect you non-believers out there to follow my lead on this one but it's true. When you run out to buy this on DVD (and I know you will), make sure you pick up the PG-13 version. There is a family friendly PG one out there that isn't that much different but come on, that's just dumb.
And the trailer (not too flattering):
The key factor in all of these (girlie) films is that they get better with repeat viewings. So if you cringe at the thought of sitting through Bewitched or Josie and the Pussycats, keep in mind that I'm watching them over and over and over again. It's a sickness but this is where I'm at. When it comes to non-horror, I go all the way. It could be worse, I could be watching The Godfather three times a day. Or Children of Men. Or Footloose. Ewwwww... I don't even want to go there. Have a super weekend, y'all.
Jason. Freddy. Michael Meyers. Prince. The halls of horror just got a little more purple. What am I talking about? Ask yourself this: 'What is Richard not talking about?' Graffiti Bridge is one of the most aggressively terrible and hurtful films I've ever watched. It's an ego-maniacal fairy tale in a horrible land where funk is source of life. The fact that Prince wrote and directed this movie frightens me. The best thing you can say about this movie is that it is a collection of music videos tenuously connected together with filler material. WRONG! The parts in between the songs are some of the most bizarre, childish and quasi-religious (Funk is God(?)) load of claptrap and tepid symbolism I've ever been stupid enough to sit through. Do you remember that scene in Batman where The Joker and his cronies trash an art gallery to Prince's "Partyman"? Imagine that scene stretched for a half an hour film but with some PG-13 sex thrown in.
As you can tell, I love this friggin' movie. All I could think of was that this is Prince's Solarbabies. Okay, now I'm confusing myself. In Graffiti Bridge, Prince and Morris Day are competing for ownership of a club called Glam Slam and the affections of Aura (played by Ingrid Chavez), a poetry-writing angel. For some reason, Prince thinks the audience gives a triple fuck about this story. We don't. Why? First of all, how are we to believe that discerning nightclub patrons in Funk World (a post apocalyptic (not really) Minneapolis) would allow Prince's nightclub to falter when he's putting on a show? Morris Day and The Time marches in and steals Prince's fan base. How is this even remotely plausible? The fact that George Clinton has his own club begs the question: why the fuck isn't he the king of Funk World? Isn't that funk heresy?
There are no fat people in Funk World because Prince's drummer eats anyone who stops dancing, even if it's only for a second. And Prince may look like an alien but Morris Day looks like something that MC Hammer coughed up. How would a woman, even one of the wretched 1990s, have trouble figuring out who to sleep with? And Ingrid Chavez has a penis. There's a scene in the film where she's in the men's room in Glam Slam and she stands up to pee. Okay, that didn't happen but the sex scene she and Prince share is a clothed one. Yes, that's right. Prince humps her on his bike (or a brick wall or both) and they have their dang clothes on! I can't believe Prince couldn't go R for at least one scene in his movie.
If you are looking for your cult movie; something so unfathomably awful that you will scream at your TV and giggle until you shit your pants then check the $5 bin at your local Big Lots or Wal-Mart for Graffiti Bridge. If you hate movies like I do, then you will fucking love this. If anyone ever questioned Prince's sanity, this will be the one that puts him away. And if this is how (the artist formerly known as that symbol who is now) Prince (again) sees the world then he is clearly not a functioning member of society. Did I mention that I don't like funk? The genre, I mean. It's better than blues music, I guess. So yeah, my name is not Prince and I am not funky.
Turner Classic Movies plays some badass shit once in a while and the 1938 classic Vivacious Lady starring Ginger Rogers and Jimmy Stewart is truly badass. This film is funny, sweet, quirky and only mildly racist. Um yeah, there's a couple of black characters (played by Hattie McDaniel and Willie Best) who are not painted in the most favorable ways. Sometimes the person delivering a joke is also the butt of the joke. Not cool. Well, it was 1938 and Hollywood was full of racist dickheads, what can you do? People tell me that Swing Time is the best Fred Astaire musical. Really? There's a black-face number! Are you fucking kidding me? That's just depressing. (Besides Top Hat is better.) My mother-in-law had a good point though. It is better that these scenes exist so that no one can forget how things used to be. Very wise. Anyway, I'm getting off track here. Despite a couple of glaring 'why did they have to go there?' moments, I loved Vivacious Lady. Now let's go to hell.
Talk about your totally mismatched double features! It is so unfair of me to have started Blue Skies right after Vivacious Lady. This film is so awful because it is almost good. If this had been hilariously bad, we might have survived. I tried to heckle this fucker but no, Blue Skies just sucks all the life right out of the room. It's movies like this that give musicals a bad name. I'm not a big Bing Crosby fan, no sir. But I do like High Time, the one where he's a big time business owner who decides to finally go to college even though he's in his 50s. Now that is an awesomely bad and just plain weird movie. Forget Back to School, you gotta dig on High Time.
So this movie has Fred Astaire and Bing Crosby competing for the love of Joan Caulfield. Wait, who in the hell is Joan Caulfield? Look, I am not an expert on old movies. In fact, I only just started really mining TCM for their good stuff but after watching Blue Skies, I still don't know who this woman is. The minute it became clear to me that this dullard was going to be the love interest that Astaire and Crosby throw their lives away over, I almost turned the movie off. ALMOST! I really should have gone with my instinct on that one. I'm dumb! So we have this bland woman inspiring all this passion and despair in these two guys who are so out of her league it's just bizarre. However, Bing Crosby is ugly. He's got those tiny little freakish doll-sized ears on an oddly shaped head. And he's got that boxy physique! Duder has no waist! His legs start at his armpits. The fuck is up with that? Maybe Joan Caulfield isn't such a bad catch for him after all.
Blue Skies has one of the worst numbers I've ever seen. Astaire and Crosby go through their old vaudeville routines for some reason and it sucks and it goes on forever and maybe it was supposed to suck and holy shit I don't know! <--- Run on sentence! Hey look, here it is:
Really there are only three reasons to torture yourself with Blue Skies. Don't do it but if you're going to anyway... First up is Billy De Wolfe, he plays Crosby's right hand man and is perfect comedy relief. He has this weird comedy routine in the middle of the movie where he imitates a middle-aged married lady getting plastered at a bar. Very strange. Second reason to watch this movie is the lovely Olga San Juan. She is just adorable in her musical numbers and should have been the love interest for the two big stars. Her character does end up with De Wolfe's in the end so there's a spoiler for you. I could have watched an entire film just about those two's romance. And finally, the third reason is this:
In case you didn't notice, it is Monday. Instead of relating my totally not interesting experience of seeing the new Harry Potter, I thought I'd ramble on about some of the movies I watched this weekend. Okay, one thing about the Potter. We had a pretty good crowd on Sunday; no crying kids, no idiots talking through the movie, etc. However, right when the closing credits came up this old chicken bag about two rows behind the wife and I goes, "Well they SCREWED UP another one of the books!" And I couldn't help but feel pity for this friggin' idiot. I've never read the books so the movies are a magical wonderland for me and I never feel cheated. Heh heh, sucker.
Friday night
I had been hearing a lot of good things about Jack Brooks: Monster Slayer and I certainly wasn't disappointed. This Canadian horror film has great pacing, atmosphere, and a big old chip on its shoulder. And the monsters were incredible. Looks like there is already some plans for a sequel. Awesome.
I never give Matilda a fair shake. I had decided to call it an early night so LeEtta picked this one to watch. As I was wussing out, I couldn't help but sit and watch at least some of this surprisingly dark and hilarious flick. The first time I watched this film all the way through I was kind of embarrassed by some of the schmaltz which has since stopped bothering me. I also have an aversion to Danny DeVito. The duder bothers me. Sure I loved him in Throw Momma from the Train but then came the whole Penguin thing and Jack the Bear. Anyway, I'm starting to like the guy again. The funniest part of Matilda is how cynical and horrible most of the adults are.
Saturday night
The crazy Pang Brothers directed Re-cycle, a fine fantasy horror flick. While it was a little overlong at 108 minutes, the film is so beautiful and strange that it is easy to forgive the length. I did doze off a little during this one but I think the Pang Brothers wanted it that way.
I might as well out myself right now and confess my love for musicals. Now this is not some unrestrained love where I squeal in delight at the thought of sitting through South Pacific or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. I am actually quite picky and they have to be at least a little off in some way. Maybe I'll do a list of my favorites one of these days.
Anyway, neither LeEtta nor myself had seen Love Me or Leave Me starring Doris Day and James Cagney and we were both surprised. This is one depressing ass musical and neither of us ever want to see it again. While it is beautifully filmed in CinemaScope and lushly designed (some shots looked like they were out of a Mario Bava flick), the story (partially biographical account of the life of Ruth Etting) was a total downer and an emotional roller coaster. However, all of the songs are great and I don't think Doris Day ever looked sexier than in this flick.
Sunday
(Some nudity in this here trailer.)
Whoa, What a perfect way to follow up Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince! Lady Terminator is an Indonesian piece of complete trash from the same director responsible for the nutty Mystics in Bali. Though it has a supernatural spin on things, this film shamelessly rips off The Terminator even going so far as to lift much of the plot and even dialogue from the 1984 film. The dubbing is so dang terrible that it actually makes the brainless script funny as hell. Highly recommended.
I still can't believe that Venus in Furs, a Jess Franco jazz, horror and kinky sex freakout showed up on Turner Classic Movies last week. This was sitting on my DVR and I was very impressed by how languid and strange this movie is. It moves along and its own pace (SLOW!) and delivers the Euro-trash vibe that my weekend had been missing. I'm not a huge Jess Franco fan and being very choosy about which of his nearly 200 films I watch has been very beneficial.
Last but not least, the amazing Zorro the Gay Blade graced our TV once again. LeEtta picked this one and while I really wanted to shower, shave and head off to bed, I just had to catch as much of this friggin' perfect flick as I could. Everyone in the world needs to watch this George Hamilton classic every day of the week.
Before you all make fun of me for being such a pussy going to bed early all the time, I have to let you know that I am reading before I go to sleep. And what am I always reading (besides Henry Miller and horror Manga) before nodding off? Horror and cult movie research materials! That's right, while you all are out playing Bar Golf, I'm in bed reading about zombie movies. This is my sacrifice to the world. Thank you.
