Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"Everton is the dominant species. I am Everton."

Despite the presence of James Cameron's long-time producing partner Gale Anne Hurd, Virus is a far cry from the likes of The Terminator and The Abyss. Whereas those movies were cerebral sci-fi with a hint of action, this 1999 blockbuster is just a dumb action film, using a nifty concept to craft a straight-ahead action fiesta without even a hint of nuance, subtlety or complexity. It's also more or less a mishmash of plot ideas and action scenes from other superior motion pictures, from The Terminator to Aliens. Add to this the fact that the film was directed by a special effects technician, John Bruno, and that nobody in the cast seems to care about anything other than their paycheque, and the result is a movie that's easy to hate from a serious critical standpoint. Despite this, Virus is surprisingly entertaining thanks to its top-flight special effects. It's ninety minutes of brainless fun - nothing more, nothing less. If this sounds appealing, have at it. If not, your loss.

Following a vicious storm in the middle of the ocean, the crew aboard the tugboat "Sea Star" find themselves in trouble, as their vessel is in need of repairs. Led by the borderline psychotic captain, Everton (Donald Sutherland), the crew happen upon a vast Russian vessel adrift in the high seas which is completely deserted, as if everyone suddenly abandoned ship. Sensing the opportunity for riches, Everton seeks to bring the ship back into port, where they can claim a salvage fee and become supremely wealthy. As the crew - which also includes navigator Kit Foster (Jamie Lee Curtis) and engineer Steve Baker (William Baldwin) - explore the ship, they find a sole survivor in the form of scientist Nadia (Joanna Pacula). Nadia warns Everton to shut off the power and leave the ship post-haste, explaining that an alien life form has inhabited the vessel. The aliens see the human race as a virus and look to extinguish it from the universe.

Narratively, Virus is similar to 1998's Deep Rising, another movie that involved a group of unsuspecting characters boarding an ostensibly abandoned vessel in the middle of the ocean to find that the crew were killed by something sinister that cannot be allowed to escape the ship and reach civilisation. But whereas Deep Rising was boosted by colourful writing and great casting, Virus is not as successful; the script is a cacophony of tin-eared, clichéd dialogue, and it takes itself far too seriously considering its preposterous nature. The film is actually based on a series of Dark Horse graphic novels that were initially written as a screenplay by Chuck Pfarrer before being turned into a comic book due to the limitations of cinema at the time.

A special effects technician, Bruno directs Virus in a workmanlike fashion, opting very much for a simplistic "point and shoot" approach as opposed to something more sophisticated or artistic. As a result, this is a watchable blockbuster with decent production values, but it's not the blast of pure adrenaline that it might've been in defter hands. Certainly, the film is no Speed in terms of pacing or tension. Nevertheless, Virus does boast some spectacular special effects, as to be expected since Bruno also worked on the likes of Titanic and Ghostbusters. Mixing animatronics and CGI, the alien robots are convincingly brought to life here, with the reported $75 million budget being put to good use. The action sequences are fluid, too. However, acting across the board is extraordinarily flat. Curtis admits in interviews that she thinks the movie is dreadful, and her lack of enthusiasm shows in a very mundane performance. However, Sutherland does seem to be having a fun time here, hamming it up to extremes. It's unintentionally hilarious to see Sutherland transformed into an alien cyborg.

Virus is a B-movie at heart, but it was given A-grade production values, reminding us of a bygone era when studios still put time and money into R-rated blockbusters. If this same script was produced in 2013, it would be a micro-budget SyFy/Asylum movie with unconvincing CGI and a horde of terrible actors. But Virus was made in 1999, and one gets the sense that the crew actually put in an effort to make an entertaining flick. If you enjoyed the likes of Deep Rising, Event Horizon and Deep Blue Sea, then there's a good chance you'll enjoy Virus, but it's by no means an essential watch.

5.2/10

"I shut down the third world, you win they lose. I shut down America, they win, you lose. The more things change, the more they stay the same."

Arriving fifteen years after the low-budget cult classic Escape from New York, 1996's Escape from L.A. is the very definition of fun, trashy entertainment. See, whereas the original 1981 movie was a bleak, gritty post-apocalyptic tale, this follow-up is a campy, deliriously over-the-top actioner, and the result is better than most critics are willing to admit. Unfortunately, the movie entered cinemas to little fanfare, and earned only $25 million at the box office, a disastrous amount considering its $50 million budget. Even though Escape from L.A. is far from perfect, it's enjoyable enough, and action fans should find it worth at least a rental.

In the year 2000, a gigantic earthquake desecrates Los Angeles, severing it from the mainland and reducing it to an island. The President of the United States (Cliff Robertson) declares that L.A. is no longer part of the country, turning it into a deportation region for the country's least savoury citizens. Hence, L.A. becomes a lawless zone populated by murderers, psychos and criminals, and a one-way trip to the island is equal to a death sentence. In the year 2013, the President's daughter, Utopia (A.J. Langer), steals a remote control unit for a doomsday device and absconds to L.A. to hand the device over to a guerrilla leader. Criminal Snake Plisskin (Kurt Russell) is captured by the government but offered a full pardon if he agrees to enter Los Angeles and retrieve the device. Although he refuses the assignment, he's forced to do it - he has been injected with a virus that will kill him in ten hours, and he will only be given the antidote if he completes the mission.

The screenplay by Russell, Debra Hill, and director John Carpenter essentially rehashes Escape from New York, following an almost identical narrative trajectory, right down to Snake having his cooperation forced by being injected with a virus (as opposed to a bomb, like in the original) that will kill him in a matter of hours. The difference is, this time the action takes place in the City of Angels. Luckily, Carpenter takes full advantage of the change of scenery. Escape from L.A. takes satirical jabs against L.A.'s entertainment industry, and sets its sights on plastic surgery too. Moreover, the fact that this is a typical copycat sequel seems to be a sly act of satire in itself. Well played, Mr. Carpenter. Luckily, the film is full of killer dialogue, with Plisskin again having a field day with one-liners (after being told that the United States no longer permits smoking, drinking, drugs, sex, guns, foul language or red meat, Plisskin sarcastically quips "Land of the free..."). Meanwhile, the ending is absolutely kick-ass, as it's unexpected and shocking in all the right ways.

Whereas Escape from New York was a low-budget movie, Escape from L.A. was produced for $50 million, no small chunk of change in 1996. It's therefore bewildering that the visual effects are so astonishingly inept, often going beyond cheesy to become outright embarrassing. The CGI is obvious and lacking in detail, not to mention the integration into the live-action elements is completely slipshod. Production values are otherwise strong, however, with expansive set design which makes the most of the Los Angeles setting. Indeed, Carpenter gives us a tour of L.A.'s ruins, showing changed geography and the desecration of recognisable sites. The action set-pieces are frequently solid here, too. As good as it was, Escape from New York does suffer from pacing difficulties, a flaw that Carpenter himself has even acknowledged. Escape from L.A. rectifies that flaw, as Carpenter fills the movie with big, colourful action sequences. It's a lot more fun than its predecessor as a result, but it does lack the enthralling atmosphere of New York. Also worth mentioning is the terrific music. White Zombie contributed a song to the soundtrack, and there are some enjoyable compositions courtesy of Carpenter, too. The main theme is very catchy indeed.

Russell has publically stated that, out of all the characters he has played during his career, Snake Plisskin is his favourite. Luckily, he slips back into the role with ease here. Russell is again a muscular badass who accepts no-nonsense, speaks in a raspy Clint Eastwood-like voice, and shows complete disrespect for authority. If anything, the fact that Russell is fifteen years older here is a benefit, as he looks even more badass. He's a huge asset to the film, and he's the reason why Escape from L.A. is as entertaining as it is. The supporting cast, meanwhile, is pretty packed, though none of the actors actually appear for very long. Most notable is Steve Buscemi, who's as strange as ever playing the role of "Map to the Stars" Eddie, while Bruce Campbell shows up for a single scene as a big-shot plastic surgeon. It's unfortunate that Campbell was not given more to do, but he does get a few laughs. Also present here are Peter Fonda, Pam Grier, Stacy Keach, and several others, but this is really Russell's show.

Taken as a film, Escape from L.A. is pretty bad, littered with cheesy effects and driven by a corny screenplay. Taken as pure beer-and-pizza entertainment, though, the movie is good enough. It's not even a classic in its genre, but it is a fun watch with its low-rent CGI and deliriously enjoyable action. Reportedly, Carpenter and Russell had planned to create a third Snake Plisskin adventure, Escape from Earth, after completing Escape from L.A., but the film's staggeringly low box office numbers unfortunately spelt death to that plan. It would have been very interesting to see further adventures of Plisskin, especially due to the way this film closes, but at least we will always have the first two movies to enjoy. Taken in the right mindset, Escape from L.A. is a hoot and a half.

6.1/10

"I don't give a fuck about your war... or your president."

With its restrained direction and deliberate pacing, 1981's Escape from New York may be a tough sell to contemporary viewers accustomed to fast-moving, exciting action flicks. However, it's hard to express just how badass and enthrallingly atmospheric this movie truly is, which is a credit to John Carpenter's abilities as a cinematic craftsman. Added to this, Escape from New York is built on a solid foundation of intelligence and innovation, with the screenplay by Carpenter and Nick Castle (which was initially penned in 1974) containing social commentary and reflecting society's anxieties of the period. It's one of Carpenter's timeless gems - while not on the same level as Assault on Precinct 13, Halloween or The Thing, it deserves to be seen by a wide audience.

In 1988, a third world war breaks out and crime rates rise 400%, leading the American government to transform the island of Manhattan into an enormous federal prison. Prisoners are dropped in, but they are never returned to the outside world. There are no guards or rules; the city is ruled by its population of violent criminals who have developed their own depraved society. In 1997, a group of radical socialists hijack Air Force One, crashing it into New York City in the hope of killing the conservative President of the United States (Donald Pleasence). The President survives by ejecting in the escape pod but lands in the middle of Manhattan at the mercy of psychotic criminals. Low on options, police commissioner Bob Hauk (Lee Van Cleef) chooses to send Snake Plissken (Kurt Russell) in to save the President. A one-eyed special ops veteran, Snake is on death row after a failed bank heist, but he's the best hope they have. Although reluctant to accept the assignment, Snake is forced to cooperate, as explosive charges are planted in his bloodstream and will only be removed when he returns with the President. With a timeframe of less than 24 hours, the very pissed-off Snake is sent into New York, where he navigates the dark streets and deals with the variety of crazies inhabiting the broken city.

As to be expected from a John Carpenter movie, Escape from New York is classic sci-fi, and one of the most creative action movies of the '80s. It's high-concept action, with Carpenter supporting the violence and gunplay with a genuinely ingenious premise. It's actually a well-structured movie as well, taking its time to establish both this dystopian world and the plot before Plissken is thrown into the streets of Manhattan. Subsequently, Carpenter provides an engrossing walking tour through the ruined streets, and though there are not a lot of big set-pieces, the pacing is methodical and sure-handed, making for gripping viewing. On top of endowing Escape from New York with a dark dystopian vibe, Carpenter also finds time for political commentary, giving the production a welcome sense of intelligence. The script is cynical about Reagan-era world leaders, and Plissken openly questions just how free the American people truly are.

Making the most of the rather small $7 million budget, Carpenter portrays a gritty post-apocalyptic vision of New York that's hellish and eerie, where you feel that some crazed lunatic might pop out of any manhole. The majority of the flick was not actually shot in NYC but rather in a burnt-out section of downtown St. Louis, giving Carpenter and director of photography Dean Cundey (who also shot Halloween) plenty of nightmarish urban terrain to fill the widescreen frame. Escape from New York is a dark movie bathed in shadows, and a lot of the atmosphere is derived from the lack of polish in the visuals. To create the special effects, Carpenter enlisted the help of Roger Corman's production company who specialise in cheap exploitation films and knew how to create effective illusions on a dime. The special effects are very good, considering the limitations. Future filmmaking wunderkind James Cameron actually worked on this production, contributing to the matte paintings and miniatures. But it's perhaps the score by Carpenter himself that constitutes the definitive touch. It's an insanely catchy synthesiser score, adding to the film's texture and generating tension. Escape from New York is often criticised for being comparatively low on action, and it might've been nice to see Plissken engaged in more shootouts since he's such a fun character, but it's not too big of a deal.

Without a doubt, Snake Plissken is one of the greatest antiheroes of the 20th century. Mixing equal parts Clint Eastwood and John Wayne, and with an arsenal of witty one-liners, Plissken is one hell of a character, and everything about Kurt Russell as Plissken is extremely cool. Formerly a child actor and a Disney movie nice guy, Russell unleashed his inner badass here, a move that defined his career. And on top of being badass, Russell also displays smarts and a nice sense of humour. It's a tricky role, and Russell hits it out of the park. In the supporting cast, Ernest Borgnine is the most notable, putting in a colourful performance as a New York cabby, while Isaac Hayes is sublimely nasty and tough as the Duke. Also in the cast is Lee Van Cleef, who previously starred in the iconic Clint Eastwood western The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. Cleef is predictably good here, while Pleasence is amiable enough as the President.

By modern standards, Escape from New York is slow, with the occasional action beats surrounded by deliberately paced scenes of Plissken touring a derelict NYC. And nobody will ever mistake this for a contemporary CGI-laden blockbuster. Nevertheless, Escape from New York is a winner because every single cent of its budget is visible on-screen and the movie was manufactured with genuine heart. There's something enthralling about watching an '80s film in which a resourceful filmmaker could create a sci-fi dystopia on a tiny budget, using sheer innovation to achieve his vision. The film works on multiple levels: it's both a fascinating action-adventure and a creative political commentary that captures the era's anxieties, not to mention it introduces one hell of an antihero. It may be a B-movie at heart, but Escape from New York is a B-movie with style, brains and attitude, thus it's not surprising that it's such an esteemed cult classic.

8.2/10

"Beautiful, don't you think?"

A long-gestating pet project for director and co-writer Alfonso Cuarón, Gravity is one of those rare motion pictures with the potential to appeal to both critics as well as average Joe movie-goers. See, the reviewers will gush over Gravity since it's a well-made feature with tremendous artistic merit, but it's also accomplished enough to play as an action blockbuster for the masses without insulting one's intelligence. Without a doubt, this is a landmark motion picture that will be discussed for years to come - its use of seamless CGI, proficient sound design and gorgeous cinematography is genuinely unprecedented. In fact, Cuarón was compelled to delay the movie until 2013 because he had to wait for cinematic technology to advance far enough to convincingly realise his vision. Large in scale yet intimate and emotional, Gravity is a rollicking space thriller with the power to awe due to its technical wizardry and affecting character drama. In a word, it's amazing.

On her first mission into outer space, Dr. Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) is assigned to work on the Hubble Telescope, overseen by confident veteran Matt Kowalski (George Clooney). While Stone is anxious as she struggles to adjust, Kowalski does his best to keep spirits high, regaling both his crew and mission control (voiced by Ed Harris) with goofy stories. But when debris from a Russian satellite enters their path, it accosts the crew, shredding their shuttle and leaving Stone and Kowalski as the sole survivors. Without an easy means to get back to Earth, the pair of astronauts begin moving through the debris field, hoping to reach another orbiting space station to find a pod that can provide safe passage back home. Making matters worse, power and oxygen in their suits are running low...

Gravity is a model of storytelling economy, painting a terse but effectual portrait of Stone and Kowalski before plunging them into mortal peril. Following this, the film, for the most part, amounts to one thrillingly sustained action set-piece, observing the astronauts defying the odds as they move from one piece of debris to the next. The real eloquence of the screenplay (written by Cuarón and his son) is the way that the characters are further developed through the action. And even though the frenzied pace is interrupted at times, Gravity doesn't contain a single inessential frame, as the more leisurely scenes are necessary for introducing thematic depth, which renders this more than just a simplistic exercise in visual moviemaking. Dialogue is another strong suit, as the characters speak in naturalistic bursts of verbiage punctuated with believable technical chatter. It feels like we're listening to real flesh-and-blood astronauts. But despite the astonishing attention to detail, a few aspects of Gravity do not entirely gel. For instance, Stone's hair seems unaffected by zero gravity; while navigating through space stations, her hair remains perfectly combed. And there's an awkward moment in which Stone is running lethally low on oxygen and needs to reach an airlock, yet seems content to move slowly and without much purpose despite the urgency of the situation. But most bothersome is a deus ex machina of sorts which emerges during the third act. None of this cripples the movie, but it does stand out.

Although sound effects were used in promotional materials, Gravity depicts space as it is: without sound. The notion may seem unappealing, but it works like gangbusters, as the subtle sound design merged with Steven Price's hauntingly ethereal score draws us into the experience, complementing the visuals in an effective fashion without actively drawing attention to itself. While Cuarón is not exactly perceived as an action director, action is actually one of his biggest talents (see Children of Men). Cuarón also has a flair for extended tracking shots, and he pulls off some stunning work here, using a flawless mixture of CGI and live-action elements to execute magnificently detailed shots that run up to several minutes. Gravity actually begins with a bravura 13-minute unbroken take, observing the astronauts at work before chaos ensues. The opening mayhem is wondrous to behold, gripping and terrifying in equal measure. In this day and age, we have become so used to seeing visual effects that we can usually tell what's digital and what's live-action, no matter how competent the filmmaking. But in the case of Gravity? It's impossible. I genuinely do not know how they pulled off this movie. Nothing looks digital. It's an astonishing feat, making this a shoo-in for the 2014 Academy Awards in several categories.

3-D is now perceived as a needless gimmick due to overexposure, but Gravity's extra-dimensional presentation is heroic, giving breathtaking depth to Cuarón's depiction of outer space. It's possible to lose yourself in the dazzling cinematic environs for long periods of time, forgetting that you're in a cinema as you'll feel like you're actually floating in cold, desolate space alongside the astronauts. Gravity was reportedly converted to 3-D in post-production, but it looks as if it was shot natively in the format, as it possesses a gracefulness that even some native 3-D titles can only dream of.

Another aspect of Gravity that elevates it above its less skilful blockbuster brethren is the fact that Cuarón is a superb director of actors. Clooney and Bullock may seem like lazy choices for easy box office dollars, but they really give it everything they have. The big revelation is Bullock, a wild card who's frequently awful in dramatic roles (despite her Oscar, Bullock's performance in The Blind Side was grating). This is career-best work for the actress, who immerses herself into the role with such assured conviction that you forget you're looking at Bullock. For long stretches of time, we watch Bullock by herself, delivering only minimal dialogue. This might sound like a recipe for disaster, but it actually works. Equally remarkable is Clooney, whose performance feels completely natural. He's a superb Kowalski, as his effortless cool and charm makes him both a charismatic presence and a believable pick for the role of a seasoned veteran able to remain calm under pressure.

Gravity is a simple, familiar premise, but great things grow from these humble seeds. In the hands of Alfonso Cuarón, this is a white-knuckle rollercoaster of a thriller, beset with memorably rousing set-pieces and enough moments of downtime to develop the protagonists as human beings. Cuarón also underscores that our existence on Earth is a miraculous thing, as well as emphasising how much one life can truly mean. And with a tight 85-minute runtime, the movie doesn't outstay its welcome. There will probably not be anything quite like Gravity for a long time to come.

8.4/10

"I can't have that sort of thing going on in my motel. It gives the place a bad name."

The decision to create so much as one sequel to Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho was risky, but the crew behind 1983's Psycho II made it work, resulting in a strong follow-up that also stands as a terrific thriller on its own terms. Another sequel was seriously pushing it, and it's unfortunate to report that 1986's Psycho III is a tremendous step down in quality. Although Psycho III is built on an interesting conceptual framework and further develops the story of Norman Bates, the execution is mediocre at best, resulting in a 90-minute slasher that feels closer to a Friday the 13th instalment. Nevertheless, it's a blessing that the picture is not as idiotic or as insulting as it might have been in less deft hands, and one must admire Anthony Perkins' courage to both star in and direct the movie despite having no filmmaking experience.

Taking place about a month after the events of Psycho II, Norman Bates (Perkins) is still the sole caretaker of the Bates Motel, living in his family's ancient house which stands adjacent. Falling back into mental instability, Norman keeps the rotting corpse of his “mother” in her room upstairs, and she is prone to murdering the motel guests if they do not sit right with her. Norman seeks to hire another pair of hands to help with watching over the motel, recruiting wily wannabe musician Duane Duke (Jeff Fahey). Meanwhile, a new patron has moved into the motel; troubled former nun Maureen (Diana Scarwid), who strongly reminds Norman of one of his victims, Marion Crane. As Norman and Maureen grow closer and feel a mutual attraction to one another, Norman's mother grows unhappy with their relationship. Complicating matters further, tenacious reporter Tracy Venable (Roberta Maxwell) begins snooping around, determined to uncover proof that Norman is responsible for the recent disappearances of several people.

From the very outset, we know that Norman is a schizophrenic murderer again, with writer Charles Edward Pogue providing a behind-the-curtain glimpse of Norman conversing with his dead mother and preparing to kill. In theory it's interesting to see this side of Norman, but Psycho III is low on surprises. Psycho's ending was groundbreaking, while Psycho II also packed a handful of shocking twists, but Psycho III's conclusion is unsurprising and rote, making little impact. It's clever to turn this instalment into more of a character study, but Pogue and Perkins do not take full advantage of the set-up. Furthermore, Psycho III was never going to live up to Hitchcock's film in any capacity, but it keeps inviting comparisons. Psycho II worked because it found its own voice while subtly paying homage to the Master of Suspense, but Psycho III takes things a step further, with murders that visually recreate the death scenes in the 1960 original. It's too awestruck with Hitchcock's film, and as a result it's not bold enough to try anything innovative. In fact, it's so awestruck with Hitch in general, as Perkins even stages a homage to Vertigo to open the picture. Psycho III is at its best when it introduces its own creative, twisted moments, including a marvellous scene in which the sheriff eats from the motel's tainted ice machine. In another perfect moment, Norman as Mother is on a rampage, but decides to straighten up a painting while pursuing his victim.

The true horror of Hitchcock's Psycho was its “less is more” approach, necessitated because Hitch had strict censorship guidelines to adhere to, else his movie would not be released. The Master of Suspense took the limitations in his stride, resulting in a very classy horror movie. A knife is never shown piercing the skin, with the death scenes creatively shot to compel us to mentally fill in the blanks. Psycho III, on the other hand, was created in a different time period, when gratuitous '80s slashers were rampant, hence on-screen nudity and explicit violence was not only allowed but encouraged. Perkins (bless his heart) gives it his all, but his directorial approach is too obvious and unremarkable, and consequently Psycho III lacks scares and chilling moments. It's all a bit rote, and one must wonder what a Hitchcock-inspired virtuoso like Brian De Palma could've made of this project. That said, there is one aspect of Psycho III that really works: Carter Burwell's terrific synch score. It's a far cry from Bernard Herrmann's music, but Burwell's work is nicely atmospheric.

Even if the film is marred by several issues, Perkins' performance as Norman Bates is as brilliant as always has been. Norman represents an ideal antithesis to slasher movie icons; although he does commit unspeakably brutal acts of murder, he's morally conflicted about it, coming across as a man-child unable to control his mental state. You feel genuine sympathy for Norman, and though you know that he needs to be locked up again, you do not want him to be caught or arrested. Also good here is Scarwid as Maureen, while Fahey is wonderfully sleazy as Duke.

Psycho III is not essential viewing, and, like Psycho II, it's unable to recapture the artistry and ingeniousness of Hitchcock's original film. Psycho really did not need any sequels, and it doesn't help that this is pretty much a run-of-the-mill '80s slasher. Still, it's a worthwhile enough continuation of Psycho II, and those interested in the Bates mythos should find it to be a fun watch.

4.9/10

"If you want your own fucking island, and your boss tells you to go take a beating... Go out there, take the beating, come back and say, "Do you need me to do it again?!""

2013's Runner Runner might as well have been a straight-to-video flick, as its unspectacular script and subpar direction renders it forgettable and unremarkable, not to mention overly slight with its scant 90-minute runtime. In fact, this is the type of unsophisticated thriller narrative that we would expect to see featuring a washed-up action star like Wesley Snipes or Steven Seagal. Exactly why it was even given the theatrical treatment is a mystery. Directed by Brad Furman, Runner Runner is hard to care about and even harder to find yourself immersed in, as it never shifts out of first gear. One-note in terms of intensity and suspense, it's middle-of-the-road from start to end, rapidly devolving into boredom despite its flashy presentation.

A student at Princeton University, Richie Furst (Justin Timberlake) works as a recruiter for online gambling sites, receiving money for enticing students to sign up and drain their bank accounts. Facing impossible tuition bills and being forced by the dean to cease his gambling affiliations, Richie decides to bet his entire savings on a game of online poker. He loses all his money but soon discovers that the site actually cheated him. Low on options, Richie hops on a plane bound for Costa Rica, planning to confront the site's owner, Ivan Block (Ben Affleck). To Richie's amazement, Block is receptive to his complaint, reimbursing him for his lost money and offering a great-paying job. Taking the bait, Richie becomes swept up in Block's lavish, wealthy lifestyle while also developing feelings for his boss' advisor/girlfriend Rebecca (Gemma Arterton). Into the mix soon steps F.B.I. Agent Shavers (Anthony Mackie), who reveals Block to be a fraud and wants the frightened Richie to act as an informant and lure Block back into U.S. jurisdiction.

Scripted by Brian Koppelman and David Levien, it's hard to tell whether or not Runner Runner's issues can be attributed to incompetent writing, as their work might've been savaged by the editors under orders to keep the finished product under 90 minutes. There are massive leaps of logic here, including the glaring question mark of how Richie manages to afford a trip to Costa Rica, as well as accommodation, despite having literally zero dollars to his name. The lack of complexity here is truly heartbreaking, too; Runner Runner could've been an intelligent examination of the world of online gambling, but it abandons this approach in favour of a trite plot we've all seen done better a million times before. This is a superficial and two-dimensional experience; the characters are all cardboard constructs, and they're given no room to emerge as actual flesh-and-blood people. And Richie might be the ostensible hero of the film, but he's not given enough development, and it's hard to like him as he makes unwise decisions and acts in an unsympathetic manner. He's not interesting or charming; he's just greedy.

Runner Runner seems to have been designed to be a popcorn thriller, but the pacing is languid and sluggish, not to mention the film is dangerously low on narrative momentum and, most critically, it lacks a sense of threat. To the credit of Furman and cinematographer Mauro Fiore (Avatar), this is an attractive-looking flick, and the sense of workmanship makes it at least watchable, especially with the beautiful locales and fairly competent production values. But this aside, Runner Runner is just not an overly involving watch. There's no sense of escalation or build-up to the proceedings - rather, the film segues from one scene to the next, following a drab, uninspired rhythm, until the final scene suddenly comes out of nowhere. Sure, the movie climaxes with a double-cross and with Block being inevitably arrested, but none of this stuff feels as important as it should be. Furthermore, Runner Runner is astonishingly low on R-rated firepower. It carries an R rating, yet it plays out like a PG-13 endeavour, low on violence and harsh language. Here was a golden opportunity to craft a memorable R-rated thriller, and Furman completely squandered all potential.

Timberlake is not an inherently bad actor, but he completely founders unless he's playing a fully-formed character under the direction of a genuine auteur. He was brilliant in The Social Network, but he's a fairly vanilla presence, making him an uninteresting action hero. The character of Richie is so thankless and personality-free, giving Timberlake nothing to work with. And since he doesn't have the authoritative on-screen presence of someone like Arnold Schwarzenegger or John Wayne, he's hopeless here. Equally flat is Arterton, who makes no impression, while Mackie is completely interchangeable as the trademark F.B.I. agent. Faring mildly better is Affleck, in a rare villainous role. He took the part and ran with it, turning Block into a Bond villain who even has pet crocodiles. Affleck is clearly bored out of his mind, though, going through the motions for a paycheque and the opportunity to sit back after working so hard behind the camera to salvage his career.

If you were channel-surfing in the early hours of the morning and nothing interesting was on, then Runner Runner might prove to be a decent enough recliner diversion. Despite how forgettable it is, it's still somewhat watchable, but that's still not much of a recommendation - there are far better thrillers out there, and this one is not essential viewing.

4.2/10

"Just, don't let them take me back to the institution."

It's one thing to create a sequel to an unremarkable blockbuster like The Fast and the Furious, but it's something else entirely to attempt a follow-up to one of the most legendary, acclaimed movies of all time. For all intents and purposes, Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho didn't need a sequel; it's in the same league as films like Lawrence of Arabia, hence a follow-up sounds like madness, especially one released 23 years after the 1960 original. Robert Bloch, who wrote the Psycho novel on which Hitchcock's film is based, actually penned his own sequel novel in 1982, prompting Universal to pursue their own follow-up. Psycho II was apparently planned to be a television movie with Christopher Walken as Norman Bates, but Anthony Perkins eventually came aboard to reprise his iconic role, and the production became so overwhelmed with press coverage and interest that the studio execs pursued a theatrical release. The bad news is that Psycho II is nowhere near as good as its lightning-in-a-bottle predecessor. The good news? It was made by a crew who cared about the project and wanted to honour Hitch, and the result is a lot better than expected.

Opening 22 years after the end of the first film, Norman Bates (Perkins) is declared to be cured of his insanity, and of sound body and mind. He is released back into society, despite the passionate pleas of Lila Loomis (Vera Miles), the sister of one of Norman's victims, who's convinced that the rehabilitated madman is going to kill again. Returning to his family home next to the Bates Motel, Norman takes up a job at a local diner, where he meets kindly young waitress Mary Samuels (Meg Tilly), who becomes homeless after a harsh break-up with her boyfriend. Feeling sorry for Mary and not wanting to be alone, Norman invites her to live with him. Norman sacks the new manager of the Bates Motel, and looks to fix up the place and return it to its former glory. But try as he might, Norman cannot shake the feeling that something is not quite right, as he begins receiving notes and phone calls from his "mother". Making matters worse, people begin to go missing around the motel...

Although Psycho II ostensibly looks like a needless cash-in sequel, it's a solid motion picture in its own right, a well-made and suspenseful thriller that rises above the grim standard for most horror sequels. Much of the credit has to go to writer Tom Holland, a newcomer at the time who went on to script Fright Night. There's a lot of head-slapping ambiguity during the opening act, as Holland and director Richard Franklin toy with us like a devious cat messing with a hapless mouse. The question looms about what exactly is happening, and if Norman really is insane again. Eventually, Psycho II begins revealing itself layer by later, leading to a shocking climax beset with surprises. Also beneficial is that Psycho II functions as a sensitive character study, observing the relationship between Norman and Mary which advances Norman's story in a fascinating way. Even if the film is not on the same level as Hitchcock's masterpiece, it's surprising just how intelligent and clever this sequel truly is, as it plots its own fresh path and doesn't try to recreate its predecessor.

Director Richard Franklin is a self-described student of Hitchcock; he worshipped the man's work, and even met him on the set of Topaz. He does lack Hitch's brilliant artistry and ability to generate shocks and chills, but Franklin's efforts are nevertheless effective. Recruiting Halloween's director of photography Dean Cundey, Psycho II is a handsome motion picture, exhibiting Hitchcockian influence in its lighting, framing, deliberate pacing and subtle clues about the true nature of what's going on. Nothing here is as masterful as the iconic shower scene, but Franklin stages a number of note-worthy set-pieces, using eerie shadows and creepy production design to enhance the mood and atmosphere. One huge misstep, though, is using the shower scene from the original film to open the picture. It feels like a cheesy gimmick, something one would see in a TV movie. Added to this, the score is not as chilling or memorable as Bernard Herrmann's remarkable contributions to Hitchcock's film.

The role of Norman Bates haunted Perkins throughout his career, and his performance here is one of the chief reasons why Psycho II works as well as it does. Bates is completely unlike '80s horror icons like Jason Voorhees and Freddy Krueger; whereas we enjoy seeing those characters kill and maim, we don't want to see Norman lose his sanity and kill again. Perkins is so utterly pathetic, yet heartbreakingly sympathetic as well, and we feel that he's earned the right to live peacefully after such a hard life. It's painful to watch this easily likeable man try to maintain his sanity, question what is real, face temptation, and even wonder if he's mentally stable. Perkins also brilliantly keeps us guessing; we wonder just what exactly is happening, and even when things slowly become clear at the end, even then you might not be sure. Alongside him, Meg Tilly (sister of Jennifer Tilly) provides great support; she brings a sense of innocence to the role of Mary, and she's beautiful, making for an ideal counterpoint to Bates. Even though Perkins reportedly tried to get Tilly fired after she revealed herself to have no knowledge of the original film or of Perkins' legacy, the pair share great chemistry, and their interplay is engaging. One of the movie's standout scenes is the climax involving Norman and Mary that's both thrilling and emotionally powerful.

Apart from Perkins, the only other returning cast member from the 1960 film is Vera Miles as Lila Loomis (formerly Lila Crane). Alas, her inclusion is one of the aspects of Psycho II that fails to sit right. She serves a purpose at the beginning of the movie, actively petitioning against Norman's release, but she has more than a cameo. Where the script leads her is frightening and unnecessary, turning this smart character into an idiotic, overwrought, revenge-minded harpy. Miles delivers a strong performance as Lila, but the proceedings here tarnish the character's name.

If Psycho II were a standalone thriller with no ties to Hitchcock's timeless masterpiece, it would be an exceptional movie, and perhaps would be more fondly remembered. But as a follow-up to one of the most "untouchable" movies of all time, it loses a few points, due to the fact that it simply is not Hitchcock's movie, and a few aspects are questionable. Still, Psycho II is much better than it had a right to be, further developing Norman's character, providing plenty of twists and chills, and staying true to the spirit of its predecessor. Not to mention, it's head over heels superior to a lot of horror sequels.

7.2/10

"My time as a human was over. But I've never felt more alive."

Heavens above, they finally did it. After four failed Twilight movies ranging from unwatchable to barely tolerable, the cast and crew behind the franchise have at long last figured out how to make this bullshit palatable. See, the past four films strived to faithfully adapt Stephenie Meyer's turgid novels with a straight face, but that all changes with 2012's The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 2. This time, returning director Bill Condon and the long-suffering cast seem to embrace the fact that the material indeed sucks, giving this final picture the chance to be the ludicrous joke that the fanbase doesn't seem to realise that it is. Cranking its ridiculous aspects up to eleven, Breaking Dawn - Part 2 is quite simply hilarious, one of the funniest and most enjoyable movie-watching experiences of 2012. It's a brilliant parody of itself, and the end result, ironically, is more entertaining than the parody film Vampires Suck.

With Bella (Kristen Stewart) having finally made the transformation to vampire, she begins to feel her new powers and deal with her thirst for blood with help from her husband, Edward (Robert Pattinson). Meanwhile, the couple's newborn daughter Renesmee (Mackenzie Foy) is growing at a rapid rate, and Bella is compelled to confront the fact that werewolf Jacob (Taylor Lautner) has imprinted his everlasting (paedophiliac) love on the infant. Word of Renesmee soon reaches the leader of the Volturi, Aro (Michael Sheen), who assumes that the Cullens have actually turned a child, which is against the rules and will apparently lead to the downfall of their kind for reasons that are never adequately explained. Because Aro has been seeking an excuse to kill the Cullens since the beginning of the franchise, he begins planning for war while Edward's family recruit as many bloodsuckers as possible to help in the impending battle.

From the very first scene, it's clear that Condon and the actors are finally in tune with the material, finding the campy tone that we've wanted all along. Part 1 showed evidence of hilarious camp at times, but Part 2 embraces it entirely, giving us scene after scene of uproariously bad dialogue and stiff performances that are amusing as opposed to flat-out boring. Not having read Meyer's books, I cannot comment on the quality of the adaptation, but the dialogue here is absolutely killer. In an early scene, Jacob reveals that he has nicknamed Bella's newborn "Nessie," to which Bella angrily responds with "You named my baby after the Loch Ness Monster?!" Tears of laughter were shed. In another scene, Bella discusses the fact that she and Edward can have consistent sex 24/7 since they will never get tired. Furthermore, an early reveal of Bella the blood-thirsty vampire, hunting for animals to kill, is side-splitting. Couple the dreadful CGI with the campy cinematography and performances, and the end result had this reviewer on the floor gasping for breath. There's also a bizarre arm wrestling scene that defies explanation.

Unfortunately, the delirious hilarity of the first act begins to wane as the dramatic stuff kicks in, leading to a midsection that drags and only provides a few laughs here and there. It's during the second act that the missteps of the prior Twilight movies begin to emerge yet again, with mundane dialogue and uninteresting proceedings, crying out for better-judged pacing. Luckily, it's almost worth enduring the dreariness for the climax when we finally get to the payoff. The ending of Meyer's novel was insultingly anticlimactic, but Condon and screenwriter Melissa Rosenberg rejig the climax, leading to a tremendous battle sequence that must be seen to be believed. Vampires with X-Men-esque abilities and vicious werewolves absolutely go at it; many bloodsuckers are decapitated, central characters are killed without remorse, one character opens up the ground to reveal a pit of goddamn lava, and Dakota Fanning is mauled by a fucking wolf. Best of all, Condon handled this sequence with utmost confidence. The digital effects remain terrible, but there's no lazy shaky-cam; it's easy to follow the mayhem. Believe me, it's awesome! But then Rosenberg literally introduces the "it was just a dream" conceit, which kind of undercuts the experience. If only the movie stuck to its guns and let that battle actually exist, Part 2 would've been even better. How ironic that this is an average movie that actually envisions a better version of itself...

To cap off the series, Breaking Dawn - Part 2 closes with a montage that recaps the prior movies, just to remind us about the journey we've taken. It's meant to be an emotional, weepy moment to allow the fangirls to reflect on their memories, but it's actually funny because of how slight the montage truly is, validating yet again that nothing ever happens in these fucking motion pictures and showing just how little really has occurred over the franchise's ten-hour lifespan. It also fails to be moving. As a matter of fact, the final scene surrounding this montage is total fucking bullshit, finding the actors spouting woefully cheesy dialogue and staring at each other.

At this point, one has to pity the actors, who probably took the job not knowing exactly what they were in for and wound up being contractually bound to the goddamn franchise. To their credit, it genuinely looks as if the cast wanted to take the piss this time around, gleefully hamming it up and no longer taking the material with a self-serious disposition. Stewart is frequently uproarious, but it's Pattinson and Lautner who walk away with the show this time. Pattinson has openly stated that he hates Twilight and doesn't understand the love for Edward, and he seems to incorporate this hatred into his performance. He's very, very funny. Likewise, Lautner ostensibly knows that this stuff is total shit and loosens up big time. Plus, again, he's only shirtless in one scene. Holy shit! But the standout is Michael Sheen, who's very much aware of the film that he's in, and completely goes for broke. His performance is a whole lot of fun.

Let's get this perfectly clear: I am not endorsing Twilight: Breaking Dawn - Part 2 because it's a legitimately good motion picture. On the contrary, it's pretty poor, and it's especially awful if the filmmakers actually intended to make a straight-faced franchise closer. But Part 2 is a whole lot of fun in the same vein as The Room, and for the most part, plays out as if the cast and crew wanted to give a great big "Fuck you!" to the fans, who (ironically) probably won't be unable to see the humour in the production and will take it with a straight face. Consummate trolling. Twilight haters, believe me when I say that Breaking Dawn - Part 2 is the Twilight movie that we've been waiting for since the beginning. It's a total blast. And it's even better that it finally spells the end of the Twilight franchise. It's over. It's actually over. Praise the film Gods!

5.9/10

"No measure of time with you will be long enough. But we'll start with forever."

It has become the new "in" thing to hate the Twilight saga, to the extent that it would almost seem the fans are actually in the minority. The hate is also very justified. Unlike unfairly bashed great movies like James Cameron's Titanic, those involved in creating Twilight just do not seem to care; the writing is poor and unfocused, the characters are superficial, the dialogue is beyond awful, and all of the directors who have helmed a Twilight instalment exhibit minimal grasp on critical filmic concepts such as pacing and narrative momentum. And here we are yet again, with 2011's The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 once more demonstrating that this stillborn franchise is still not worth a damn. Once again scripted with detrimental fidelity by Melissa Rosenberg, this fourth Twilight film is livened at times by moments of unintentional hilarity, but for the most part, it's an agonising bore.

After three movies of brooding stares and playing hard to get, Bella (Kristen Stewart) and vampire Edward (Robert Pattinson) are at long last set to be married, but this upsets angsty werewolf Jacob (Taylor Lautner), who still clings to the hope that he has a shot with the girl who rejects him all the time yet takes every opportunity to teasingly lead him on. Following the disturbing ceremony, the newlyweds set off on their honeymoon to the Cullen's private island (?) in Brazil (??) for the long-awaited sexual intimacy. Bella unexpectedly falls pregnant, leaving the family bewildered and stressed, especially as the unborn grows at an exponential rate and seems to be attacking its mother from the inside (yes, these moments are every bit as hilarious as you can imagine). The werewolf clan decide to kill Bella and the baby for reasons too vague to go into, which prompts Jacob to take Bella's side, wanting to protect the manipulative whore who continually shows that she doesn't care about him.

The first three instalments in the Twilight saga gave Stephenie Meyer the opportunity to spread her Mormon (moron?) propaganda about abstinence, but Breaking Dawn actually begins with Bella and Edward tying the knot, meaning that the couple can at last engage in coitus (never mind that one of them is a walking corpse). Thus, the abstinence lecture has been replaced with anti-abortion propaganda. See, Edward wants Bella to terminate the baby and even recruits Jacob to help convince her, but Bella is determined to martyr herself for the sake of the unborn foetus, for no reason other than because Stephenie Meyer is against abortion.

Because the Twilight movies have proved so lucrative for Summit Entertainment, and because they wanted to milk the cash cow for everything it was worth, Breaking Dawn has been split into two features, a decision that only renders the experience excruciating rather than epic or rich. With the studio-mandated two-hour runtime in mind, Rosenberg and director Bill Condon slacken the pace to focus on superfluous dialogue and insignificant details that could easily have been excised. The dialogue is particularly subpar here, lacking so much as a modicum of wit. As with every Twilight movie, nothing happens in Part 1 until the last ten minutes. Okay, so some stuff does happen, but the events of this feature could have easily been compressed into a 30-minute opening act of a single cinematic adaptation of Breaking Dawn.

The Breaking Dawn novel is actually regarded as the instalment that even the fans dislike, as it's no longer a brooding high school romance but rather a convoluted fantasy-horror story that's also completely crazy. For those unaware, this is a story involving vampire-on-human sex (which leads to the bed breaking), an undead vampire being able to impregnate a human female (lol), and Edward giving Bella an emergency C-section with his fucking teeth. Such lunacy had the potential to make for a riotously campy motion picture, but because this film is PG-13, everything is muted and boring. At the helm here is Bill Condon, who has actually made some good movies in the past, but he clearly phones this one in. Breaking Dawn is visually drab and flat, carrying the look and feel of a low-rent television soap opera as opposed to a big theatrical release. To his credit, Condon does get comic mileage out of several scenes (intentional or otherwise), but there is only so much a director can do with this material. This is why the Twilight films are doomed with this set of producers and writers: a director is forced to include hundreds of pensive stares and as much cheesy dialogue as possible, forbidding them from producing their own spin on the story. Boldness is thus renounced in favour of bland fidelity because it guarantees more bums in cinema seats.

The comedic highlight of Breaking Dawn - Part 1 is easily a scene in which CGI werewolves talk to each other, with Jacob being defiant, raising his voice and bickering with the others. It's one of the most unintentionally hilarious scenes of 2011, with the studiously hyperbolic voice acting, the awfully phoney digital effects, and the fact that the wolves are apparently speaking telepathically (???) since they aren't mouthing the words they say (???). Another highlight is the "birth" scene, when the infamous C-section occurs, brought to life with cinematography and editing to retain the PG-13 rating that winds up looking like an LSD trip. Similarly, Bella lapses out of consciousness, and the sight of Edward simply pushing into Bella's chest yelling "Come on!" looks completely, hilariously pointless. But the crowning achievement is the moment in which Jacob falls in love with Bella's infant daughter. It's such an unmotivated, WTF moment, and Condon executed it with maximum comedic impact, to the extent that the CGI newborn actually acknowledges Jacob's attraction. This reviewer was sobbing with laughter.

Against all odds, it would seem that the Twilight performers are only getting worse with each new film, sticking by the same old acting chestnuts and refusing to learn from their mistakes. Typical high school drama productions feature more convincing acting than the "performances" glimpsed here. Stewart and Pattinson were a real-life couple during production, yet they still don't feel like credible lovers. They share no chemistry, and it doesn't help that the actors have seriously limited range, unable to properly convey emotions through facial expressions. Canines are more expressive, for fuck's sake. Lautner, meanwhile, continues his downward spiral, hitting rock bottom with this terrible performance full of forced intensity and blank expressions. Miraculously, Lautner only removes his shirt once during the entire movie. Progress at last! None of the other actors are worth mentioning, really. Everyone in the cast is so awkward and flat; they seem like aliens trying to impersonate human behaviour, spouting the most woeful dialogue imaginable in a forced fashion. It's also amusing to note that despite the intrusive score and the amusingly self-serious performances, this reviewer was utterly unaffected by everything; at no point did anything move me to tears or even provoke goosebumps. It only prompted me to sleep.

Arguably, Breaking Dawn - Part 1 is the most tolerable Twilight movie so far, but only due to how unintentionally humorous it is at times. It's also exciting that with four pictures down, there is only one more agonising Twilight movie for this reviewer to endure. Still, Part 1 is appalling, and it quickly becomes a chore to sit through with its monstrous running time. You'd be better off watching a few clips of the film's funniest moments as opposed to suffering the entire thing. In the right hands, Breaking Dawn could have been a beautifully campy treat, but Condon can only give the picture life at times, and even then, it's difficult to ascertain whether or not he expected any of this shit to be taken seriously. Then again, nobody can take this shit seriously, and if any filmmaker expected such nonsense to be taken with a straight face...they failed.

2.8/10

"We're gonna need a bigger chopper."

As bad as movies from The Asylum normally are (and believe me, they are terrible), the studio's output often falls into the "so bad it's good" category, as they're pitched at the right tone to render them sufficiently enjoyable. Sharknado seemed like a can't-miss prospect, with its cheesy premise possessing the potential to become an enormously entertaining B-movie. What a shame, then, that the finished product is a total bore, implemented with staggeringly inept filmmaking and featuring a cast of actors who just don't seem to care. It would be foolhardy to expect quality from a film called Sharknado, but it's almost completely unwatchable, lacking the B-movie charm present in other films of this ilk.

When a freak hurricane hits the California coast, hundreds of sharks begin moving into the flooded streets, terrorising the populace and eating anyone in their path. Former world champion surfer Fin (Ian Ziering) feels that something is amiss, closing his bar and rounding up his friends - including ditzy ex-wife April (Tara Reid) and his daughter Claudia (Aubrey Peeples) - to get to safer ground. Unfortunately, the high-speed winds soon lead to the formation of several tornadoes, which pass through the schools of sharks and render them airborne. Thus, the stage is set for countless man-eating fish to be thrown onto the bad actors.

Sharknado is dreadful from the very first frame. The opening is baffling, with director Anthony C. Ferrante exhibiting no interest in properly establishing atmosphere or place. We immediately see sharks being sucked into a tornado when a more skilful filmmaking team would ease into it. It's more disastrous than you would imagine, as it denies us the time to get invested in the film and get in tune with it. The problem is only exacerbated by the tone-deaf editing, which is often harsh and jarring, in need of a proper rhythm. It's also difficult to discern what day it is at any one time, as the colour palette often changes. In one shot, it's grey and cloudy, and in the next shot, it's sunny and fine. It also looks as if stock footage was used, compounding this issue. It's bewildering that no editor failed to notice and didn't even try colour correction to fix the issue. Then again, I doubt anybody involved in Sharknado really cared; the makers probably wanted to excuse all of the picture's glaring faults by saying, "It's meant to be bad!" Unfortunately, it's not that easy to make a fun bad movie. Films like The Room and Plan 9 From Outer Space were the product of directors with visions who tried their hardest but obliviously fell short of the mark.

The digital effects team clearly did not care, either, and probably spent no more than two minutes on each VFX shot before moving on. Most dreadful is the interaction with the live-action elements, as sharks do not often cause ripples in the sea, and splashes are poorly integrated with the live-action water. It comes with the territory, to be sure, but the best B-movies at least make an effort; last year's Bait 3D mixed practical sharks and halfway convincing CGI beasties to decent effect. Here, the over-reliance on blatantly awful CGI detracts from the experience. Hell, it's impossible to discern what types of sharks we're actually looking at. Aside from the terrible filmmaking, Sharknado also flaunts a cast of actors who've clearly given up on life. The only actor enjoying himself here is John Heard, who's woefully underused and exits the film in a sequence that's more uncomfortable than funny. Heard was in Home Alone and other recognisable movies, hence his short screen-time is a real bummer. Meanwhile, former Beverly Hills 90210 star Ziering is horrendous, while Reid put in zero effort. It's clearly stunt-casting for the novelty, but this novelty wears off quickly.

At times, Sharknado does deliver in the "so bad it's hilarious" department, but most of the time, it's just plain bad, especially a ridiculously stupid scene during the climax involving a man leaping into a shark's mouth that provoked nothing but face-palming from this reviewer. Oddly enough, there is an art to creating good bad movies, but Sharknado falls woefully short. It's a tremendous waste of time and promise, and though it's destined to become a cult curiosity, it will not have the same legacy or reputation as something like The Room. Sharknado actually received a minor theatrical release, which is ludicrous. I feel gravely sorry for anybody who paid actual money to see this piece of shit in a cinema. It's maybe forgivable when broadcast on television since one can change the channel, but trapped in a cinema, doomed to endure 85 minutes of unwatchable guff? A suicide pill is more enticing.

1.9/10