Reviews by PvtCaboose91

1974's Mr. Majestyk arrived during the most lucrative period of actor Charles Bronson's career; a time when movie-goers attended cinemas to see actioners like Red Sun, Chato's Land, Death Wish and The Mechanic. 1974 was most likely the best season of all for Bronson, as Mr. Majestyk and Death Wish were running in theatres simultaneously. While Mr. Majestyk lacks the social commentary of the vigilante actioner Death Wish, the film nonetheless packs a wallop and remains an enjoyable, competent showcase for Charles Bronson's superhero cool. Most interesting about the movie is the fact that screenwriter Elmore Leonard managed to transform the subject of the mistreatment of migrant workers into a vehicle for Bronson's violent heroics.

Bronson's character here is the titular Mr. Majestyk; a solemn watermelon farmer in Colorado who does not take kindly to anyone messing around in his watermelon patch. With harvesting time upon him, Majestyk hires a crew of migrant workers to pick the watermelons, but a local weasel named Bobby Kopas (Koslo) shows up demanding that Majestyk hire his men. After opening a can of whoop-ass on Kopas, Majestyk ends up in the local prison where he runs afoul with mafia hitman Frank Renda (Lettieri). Predictably, Renda is furious, and vows revenge on Majestyk. Of course, the enjoyment from here on in is watching Renda and Kopas bullying Majestyk, but them being unaware of the danger they're wandering into by doing so.

Elmore Leonard penned the script for Mr. Majestyk, and the usual rhythms of his hard-bitten prose are evident throughout. No revenge/vigilante cliché was left unused here, too, with Majestyk's best friend being mortally wounded, the love interest being placed in danger, the police being wholly incompetent, etc. The list goes on. Fortunately, there's a welcome amount of tongue-in-cheek humour within the film, and plenty of opportunities for Bronson to showcase the capabilities of his usual "don't fuck with me" screen persona. It's enough to trigger a few big dumb grins from time to time. Thankfully, too, the filmmaking is of a high standard here; director Richard Fleischer proved competent at handling moments of tension in particular. Coming from the heyday of the 1970s, the action is low-tech by contemporary standards but the violence packs a realistic punch. The climactic shootout is a humdinger, and there are some impressive chase scenes as well. Old school truly is the best school.

Mr. Majestyk additionally proves that a Charles Bronson revenge movie can be made about practically anything. In the Death Wish movies, Bronson avenged the death of loved ones. In Mr. Majestyk, Bronson avenges the death of his watermelon crop. There is even a scene depicting a bunch of gunmen callously blowing holes in a massive watermelon pile. When Bronson sees that his melons have been blown to smithereens, he emotes more than he did in all of the Death Wish movies combined. Sure, he merely lowers his head in anger and clenches his fist, but, considering Bronson's usual acting standard, this moment represents Laurence Olivier-type shit. As for the rest of his performance, Bronson played Majestyk with his usual quiet, stoic toughness, and his line delivery is frequently contrived. Like John Wayne, however, Bronson's fans attended his movies to enjoy his badass screen presence, and Mr. Majestyk delivers in this respect. However, it's Al Lettieri as Frank Renda who truly stands out here. Renda is a vicious brute, and it's easy to root against him.

The only real problem with Mr. Majestyk is that the set-up is too sluggish and laborious. If the movie was solely about Majestyk fending people off of his land, it would have been far simpler, more focused and all-round superior. Additionally, aside from pacing issues, Mr. Majestyk never truly stands out in any aspect; it's just an enjoyable, by-the-numbers action movie you will likely forget about a few days after watching. Nevertheless, it's a fun watch, and fans of Charles Bronson cannot afford to miss it.

6.2/10

There are countless bad movies out there. Most of them end up fading into obscurity, as their downright awful nature renders them unbearable. But, every now and then, a terrible movie comes along that becomes a classic solely because of its staggering ineptitude. 2003's The Room is a textbook example of such a movie. As of 2010, this film has developed a massive cult following, and some regard it as the Plan 9 From Outer Space of this generation. In short, The Room is a film that's amazingly, unbelievably inept in every conceivable aspect. Experiencing the film is akin to stepping into an alternate universe devoid of recognisable human behaviour and where up is green. Financed, written, directed, produced by and starring Tommy Wiseau, The Room is the type of film that's unleashed upon the world when an incredibly overconfident, untalented narcissist gains access to filmmaking equipment.

A simple, terribly-realised story of love gone wrong, The Room stars Wiseau as a businessman named Johnny. His live-in girlfriend, Lisa (Juliette Danielle), is tired of their relationship and chooses to turn her attention to Johnny's best friend, Mark (Greg Sestero). Mark succumbs to Lisa's charms all too easily but regrets the affair due to his friendship with Johnny. Meanwhile, Johnny is oblivious to Lisa's infidelity and continues to shower her with chocolates and roses before taking her to bed. On top of this, Lisa's mother advises Lisa to marry Johnny because he's a good provider and a good catch, and it does not matter that she can no longer stomach him. The events that stem from this basic set-up can best be described as a ridiculous series of non-sequiturs.

Wiseau's screenplay is packed with half-baked ideas, out-of-place plot elements, laughably terrible dialogue, and countless screenwriting no-nos. Production blunders litter every single scene of the movie, with frequently out-of-sync dialogue, fucked up continuity, strange staging (Johnny and Lisa's television is situated behind a couch), hilariously bad chroma key effects, endless random establishing shots of San Francisco landmarks, bizarre sex scenes, and frequently out-of-focus cinematography which came as a consequence of the inexperienced director electing to shoot on both 35mm and HD on the same mount. Plot points about cancer, drug money and pregnancy are introduced but are never mentioned again. Meanwhile, characters come and go without explanation, most noticeably Johnny's psychologist friend, played by Kyle Vogt, who quit the film before his scenes were completed. It's hard to use words to describe the terrible acting in this movie, too. Wiseau is the most notable offender, as he delivers his lines as if he were reading the instructions on a tax form.

Although terrible in many respects, The Room is absolutely fucking hilarious from start to finish. It's best viewed with a crowd of people who can appreciate this form of atrocious cinema. Loads of fun can easily be derived by watching it with friends and picking out the plot elements that make no sense. For instance, four characters head outside to play football while wearing tuxedos for no reason - and the game itself consists of the people standing three feet apart tossing the ball to one another. Also funny to watch are the cringe-inducing sex scenes in which Wiseau is clearly unfamiliar with how the missionary position works. Meanwhile, the bizarre music never fits with what's happening on screen, and the abysmal dialogue is a constant source of amusement. Added to this, the meaning of the title is never explained. It's called The Room, but it's set in many different rooms. The hilarity of this film is never-ending.

What truly distinguishes The Room from other legendary cinematic turkeys is Wiseau's narcissism, which is on screen for all to see. A mysteriously-accented, sleepy-eyed figure who emanates the polar opposite of charisma, The Room exudes an intense amount of self-absorption. During the movie, characters constantly state that Johnny is a great guy, yet there is no evidence to corroborate this. Viewers are expected to believe Johnny treats Lisa "like a princess", but the writer-director's understanding of relationships is so poor that Johnny is only seen doing the bare minimum (flowers, declarations of love, and so on). Meanwhile, Lisa is depicted as a slutty, malicious bitch who betrays Johnny out of spite rather than any dramatically credible reason. Wiseau is also crazy enough to believe that viewers will want to see his creepy naked form in the agonisingly long, weird sex scenes.

While one can laugh at The Room constantly, there are still dead spots, and the cinematography is, at times, so ugly that the film is difficult to watch. When it's funny, it's funny, but when it's boring, it's boring. Additionally, as with all bad films, it's truly fascinating to think that Wiseau had a vision so strong and clear that he could actually see the film through to completion and believe he made something good. Thus, Tommy Wiseau must be admitted into the directorial pantheon that also includes Ed Wood. What's also highly amusing is that Wiseau does not mind people thinking that The Room is bad. On the matter, he said, "People should feel free to laugh, cry and express themselves. Just as long as they don't hurt each other." The guy's a certified nutcase. God bless him.

4.8/10

After Steven Seagal began his promising action career by starring in films like Under Siege and its sequel, the star squandered this potential by featuring in a handful of dreadful movies that revealed he has gradually gotten fat, slow and philosophical about nature. 2001's Exit Wounds was intended to be career resuscitation for Seagal - it's a theatrical Hollywood blockbuster that ended the star's straight-to-video purgatory period, and it was produced by Joel Silver. For better or worse, Exit Wounds is exactly the type of action film you'd expect to find Seagal in: it's big, dumb and boisterous. Alas, it's also a bland, poorly-written hodgepodge of countless action film clichés. The film was based on John Westermann's novel of the same, but it would appear that screenwriters Ed Horowitz and Richard D'Ovidio merely used the synopsis on the back of the book on which to base their script.

For this particular venture, Steven Seagal plays Detroit Police Detective Orin Boyd. Another rogue cop in the Dirty Harry mould, Boyd spends the movie's opening scene saving the life of the Vice President whose motorcade is attacked by a bunch of unnamed terrorists. After Boyd kills all the terrorists and blows up a helicopter with his handgun, he is subsequently demoted and sent to work at the city's worst precinct. See, the Chief of Police believes that Boyd used excessive force despite his heroic actions, because these kinds of contrivances are pivotal for getting the ball rolling in action movies of this ilk. Eventually, the plot degenerates into the usual police corruption yarn involving drugs and gangsters. And, of course, Boyd rapidly comes to the realisation that not everyone can be trusted.

Exit Wounds admittedly begins well enough with an exciting shootout, yet the movie endures a huge decline in quality from this point onward. In particular, the film suffers from a lack of identity, as it veers from genre to genre in an erratic fashion. It appears to be a drama, a comedy, an actioner and a karate flick rolled into one, with a little "who can you trust?" thrown in for good measure, but none of the respective elements were pulled off with any degree of talent. The dialogue is frequently uninteresting, the characters are boring, and the plot is hackneyed. You'd be a lot happier fast-forwarding through the dialogue to get to the action scenes. Also, what is it with "movie cops" like Boyd? At no point does Boyd appear to have an actual job or an assignment to carry out; rather, he just wanders the streets encountering crime and following it up on his own time. That's Hollywood screenwriter thinking for you, I guess.

Talented cinematographer Andrzej Bartkowiak made his directorial debut with Romeo Must Die, and managed to afford Exit Wounds with a slick look. Admittedly, the action is fun enough to watch, but the "in-between stuff" and the plot are glaringly subpar. The problem is not with Bartkowiak's handling of the material, but the material itself. The screenwriters pulled out every cliché known to action films: gunfights, cars blowing up, car chases, motorcycle chases, kung-fu fighting, helicopter chases, absurd twists, and so on. The film liberally borrows from Heat, the Lethal Weapon series, every buddy cop film ever made, and far too many other films to mention. The storyline is just a tired redoing of every cop film you've seen. Of course, there's no problem with borrowing if done right, but Exit Wounds was done wrong. Added to this, it's difficult to make sense of the convoluted plot most of the time.

Steven Seagal is essentially the poor man's Sylvester Stallone. With his sleepy-eyed stare, his pinched-up, confused facial expression (note the lack of an "s" at the end of "expression") and dull line delivery, it's as if Seagal was perpetually stoned throughout filming. The second strike against the actor is that it looks as if he always hit the refreshment table between takes. The slow, podgy action star waddles throughout the proceedings at the speed of a broken down car. While the camera twirled around him in an attempt to make his fight moves flashier, it's obvious the years have not been kind to Seagal's fighting skills...or his waistline. Admittedly, Seagal lost a bit of weight between this film and his last role (1998's The Patriot), but Seagal looks less and less impressive in an age where Jet Li can move at lightning speed without the aid of special effects. Alongside Seagal, the performances are fairly routine and forgettable. The only two standouts are Tom Arnold and Anthony Anderson, both of whom managed to bring a welcome amount of comic relief to such a stale creation.

Even with its flaws in mind, Exit Wounds is not a total waste as you can derive some (guilty) pleasure from the action set-pieces. There are a few laughs to be hard as well, with the most substantial laughs arriving at the end credits during a hilarious chat-show send-up featuring Tom Arnold and Anthony Anderson. Despite these strengths, the film as a whole remains disappointingly subpar. There are countless other action stars more talented than Seagal in this day and age, making Exit Wounds look lacklustre in comparison.

4.3/10

Over the years, the popular American television program Saturday Night Live (SNL) has helped to launch the film careers of countless comedians and comedy writers, including Bill Murray, Chevy Chase, Billy Crystal, Eddie Murphy, and tonnes more. In the late '80s and early '90s, Mike Myers and Dana Carvey got their big break on SNL, and the roles they portrayed on the show functioned as the basis for the 1992 film Wayne's World. In this day and age, the notion of a movie inspired by Saturday Night Live sketches is groan-worthy due to more misses than hits, yet Wayne's World stands as one of the best SNL feature films. It's also one of those films that was purely and simply made for fun, and should not be critically analysed too closely. Sure, Wayne's World is largely predictable and it delivers more of a succession of vignettes than an actual story, but the characters are endearing and the film is a consistent delight due to a terrific mix of physical and verbal comedy.

In the film, Wayne (Myers) and his slightly insecure best friend Garth (Carvey) produce, co-host and broadcast a youth-culture chat show entitled Wayne's World on local public access television. Filmed in Wayne's parent's basement, the duration of the show is spent discussing women, music, the latest goofy inventions and whatever else may be on the hosts' minds. Soon, a slimy Chicago television executive named Benjamin (Lowe) discovers the show and wishes to exploit it; hiring the boys to feature in a big-budget network television version to use it as a promotional tool for a Chicago-area arcade. This causes the show to lose touch with its audience, however, and triggers a degree of friction between Wayne and Garth. Added to this, Benjamin takes an interest in Wayne's new rock star girlfriend Cassandra (Carrere), and begins pursuing her with promises of fame and fortune.

Wayne's World is infectiously funny at times, with the energetic performances of Mike Myers and Dana Carvey always ensuring the film is enjoyable despite the occasional lulls in pace. The overzealous efforts of the two lead performers additionally reflect the absurdity of the movie and its meandering plot. From time to time, the two directly address the audience and break the fourth wall; highlighting that the movie is indeed meant to be taken with a grain and salt, and that one should view the film with the understanding that its absurdity and irrelevancy is key to its success. As a matter of fact, in some of the best scenes, the movie pokes fun at its own contrived nature, with subtitles such as "Oscar Clip" and "Gratuitous Sex Scene". To round out the film and to further demonstrate the wink-and-nod approach, a trio of different endings are played out one after the other, each of which is bursting with intentionally obvious clichés.

Similar to many parody movies, Wayne's World contains moments which poke light-hearted and at times scintillating fun at the popular culture of its time. However, with so many years having passed since its theatrical release in 1992, a number of these jokes will provoke fewer laughs since the timeliness has evaporated. Thankfully, though, Wayne's World contains a solid selection of timeless lampooning as well. Among the best and most enduring moments features Wayne and Garth condemning Hollywood's sell-out mentality and pointing out the wrongs of product placement while gleefully placing Pizza Hut pizza, cans of Pepsi, and other assorted products directly in front of the camera. They even incorporate the classic, overly-enthusiastic salesmanship smile into the segment. Meanwhile, another memorable scene depicts Wayne, Garth and their crew singing along to Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody in a car. It has zero impact on the plot, but it's great.

Mike Myers and Dana Carvey are perfect for the roles of Wayne and Garth. In top comedic form, the two actors managed to add depth to characters that could have easily been shallow caricatures. As a result of their amiable nature, Wayne and Garth emerge as people you want to spend time with, and their troubles become your concerns. Their performances also remind us of a time when the actors were both relevant and funny (i.e. before Myers committed career suicide with The Love Guru and countless Shrek sequels, and before Carvey faded into obscurity). It's fortunate that the duo is so good, too, because the remainder of the performances are merely adequate. Rob Lowe is fine as the sleazy television executive, but is never in the same comedic league as Myers and Carvey. Meanwhile, Tia Carrere (star of such critically disclaimed but fun action films as Showdown in Little Tokyo) is somewhat strong as Cassandra, but is nonetheless disposable.

To the credit of those behind Wayne's World, the movie never feels like a Saturday Night Live skit dragged out to feature-length proportions (this is more than what can be said for other SNL features). Thanks to the brilliant scripting and a delightful comic energy, the film possesses an identity separate from its television counterpart. It's not in the same league as The Blues Brothers (let's face it, not much is) and it's nothing substantial (it is fluff), but it's still eminently watchable, funny and quotable. This is high praise indeed for a film of modest origins that's comprised of a meandering series of vignettes loosely tied together by a generic plot. Wayne's World never tries to be anything more than the sum of its parts, and that's good enough.

7.3/10

2010's Death at a Funeral is the American remake of the long-forgotten, years-old 2007 movie of the same name. That's correct - by the time this remake entered multiplexes, barely three years had elapsed since Frank Oz's British original hit cinemas and found cult success. The twist (if it can be called as such) is that this American version features a primarily African-American cast, who were given the almost exact same script as the 2007 picture to act out. However, one word springs to mind while describing this American version: why? Why remake a three-year-old British film (which was in English) and redo the exact same gags? It might work for those unfamiliar with the original, but even that is debatable.

The plot, as with the original film, concerns the funeral of a family patriarch which is being held in his large home by request. Eldest son Aaron (Rock) has taken care of all the arrangements, but becomes faced with all the bills and domestic headaches that come with a family gathering. Added to this, Aaron lives in the shadow of his successful brother and best-selling author Ryan (Lawrence). If this isn't bad enough, Aaron's wife Michelle (Hall) wants to conceive a child, mother Cynthia (Devine) is overwhelmed by grief, and a cavalcade of family acquaintances (including Saldana, Glover, Morgan, Marsden, Glass, and many others) have arrived with their own problems to disrupt what was intended to be a peaceful celebration of life. Also spoiling the funeral is a mysterious dwarf named Frank (Dinklage, reprising his role from the 2007 original) who has plans to blackmail Aaron.

For this Death at a Funeral remake, the biggest mistake was to retain Dean Craig's original screenplay. Aside from a few groan-worthy pop culture references and the occasional new or slightly altered line, this version is practically a gag-for-gag, word-for-word replication of the 2007 film. In order to work, this American version needed the very thing that Craig's sturdy script was unable to provide: a new voice. The best remakes in history are able to offer a fresh take on a premise as opposed to a word-for-word recreation of somebody else's work. The Departed, Ocean's Eleven and Peter Jackson's King Kong are all examples of good remakes. 2010's Death at a Funeral, however, is just flat and useless. The original UK version was a solid, understated black comedy, but when Americanised by an inadequate cast & crew, Death at a Funeral feels weak and forced. The laugh lines seem like precisely that: laugh lines. In a dark comedy like this, it's less amusing if the actor is in on the joke.

Furthermore, Death at a Funeral embodies everything that's wrong with Americanising a movie. The 2007 original was hardly highbrow, but it was not stupid, nor did it assume its audience would be. But the team behind this remake clearly assumed that its audience would be complete morons who can't understand a joke unless the punchline is over-exaggerated, and who cannot laugh at physical humour unless it's overplayed. See, the film wastes time hammering home points that need not be hammered home. At the beginning, for instance, the undertakers deliver the wrong coffin to the family home. In the 2007 original, the joke is low-key and brisk. In this remake, the joke is dragged out, and we see that the man in the coffin is actually an Asian, which underlines the notion that this could not possibly be part of an African-American family. Thus, whereas the British film was excellently nuanced in the acting department and relied on understated wit to generate laughter, 2010's Death at a Funeral is notably louder and stupider.

Chris Rock (The Longest Yard) is usually a supremely talented comedian and a supremely likeable presence, but in portraying Aaron he was restricted to playing the level-headed protagonist, and thus seems miscast. Who would want Rock to play the straight man, anyway? Alongside him, there are a few decent performances, most notably from Zoe Saldana, James Marsden and Ron Glass. The standout in the cast is Danny Glover who's a hoot as the misanthropic, wheelchair-bound Uncle Russell. One of the best lines in the movie is of Glover remarking "I'm too old for this shit"; referencing his Lethal Weapon years. If he replaced the word "old" with "good", he'd be a lot closer to the mark.

To its credit, the film moves forward amiably enough - it's never truly dull thanks to an unexpected energy, but never is the movie hilarious or genuinely good either. Death at a Funeral provides three or four scattered laughs, but not nearly the same quantity or quality of its predecessor, which is strange considering the almost identical screenplay. Additionally, aside from the British original, 2010's Death at a Funeral is strangely reminiscent of another film: Gus Van Sant's 1998 remake of Psycho. In both instances, talented people were squandering their talents and energies on a needlessly restricted project, denying them the opportunity to offer a completely fresh take on another movie.

4.2/10

Only the English filmmaking industry could successfully employ the concept of a sombre funeral service as a foundation on which to construct an eccentric black comedy. A clever, lively creation, 2007's Death at a Funeral is the latest comedy to be helmed by American director Frank "voice of Yoda" Oz, whose past hits include Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and Bowfinger. Despite having been directed by an American, Death at a Funeral retains a distinctly English flavour, as it's blessed with an English country setting, populated by predominantly English actors, and supported by a witty screenplay courtesy of Dean Craig. While clichéd, at times predictable, and occasionally more awkward than funny, Death at a Funeral is an energetic, wily motion picture. Eschewing flimsy gags and flashy special effects in favour of strong comedic performances and a brisk pace, Oz has crafted a top-notch black comedy.

At the centre of Death at a Funeral is real-life married couple Matthew Macfadyen and Keeley Hawes playing Daniel and Jane; the film's straight men who exist to navigate through the madness that is to come. As the film opens, Daniel is trying to get a funeral underway to give his deceased father a dignified send-off. Daniel is soon joined by a cavalcade of family and friends who are gathering to pay their respects. Plenty of chaotic events unfold throughout the course of a few hours as the eccentric supporting cast are introduced, each of whom have their own troubles to deal with.

The stories of the respective characters play out simultaneously, with the camera leaping from one to the next. It's chaotic, to be sure, and some of the characters are not given enough to do, but this permits a glorious fast pace. With the oddball scenarios, the frenetic antics and the protagonist's struggle to maintain normality, Death at a Funeral is at times notably reminiscent of the classic UK television series Fawlty Towers, except it's without the manic genius of John Cleese. On that note, Death at a Funeral is not as funny as it had the potential to be. It's more of a mild torrent of hilarity than an all-out laugh-fest from beginning to end. Worse, there are flat jokes, with situations that are dark and uncomfortable rather than funny. Due to this, Death at a Funeral received a fairly mixed reception. One's taste for black comedies will determine whether you're a fan, a hater, or somebody in between.

Expanding upon the lack of laughs, Death at a Funeral demands patience, as the first half is lacklustre in the humour department. There are a few laughs, sure, but the pickings are slim for the better part of 40 minutes. Fortunately, though, even during its barren stretches, Death at a Funeral remains watchable and entertaining. Director Oz and screenwriter Craig managed to infuse the film with a pervasively affable atmosphere that effectively compensates for the less-than-hilarious nature of the film's first half. Added to this, the filmmakers managed to do something rare: build momentum. The nearer the film gets to the end credits, the faster and more furious the jokes come. Granted, there's a bit of unnecessary bathroom humour and nudity, but the movie never sinks into the realm of bad taste. Oz and Craig even inserted a eulogy towards the film's end that's heartfelt and touching without seeming forced, tacked-on, or out of place.

Admittedly, the picture is populated with the type of stock characters one would expect to see in a film like this: the cad, the comic relief, the invalid, the favourite son, and so on. Yet, these roles were brought to life by such an ideal cast that it barely matters. Matthew Macfadyen is a terrific straight man capable of delivering side-splitting dialogue without ever seeming in on the joke. Meanwhile, American actor Alan Tudyk (of Firefly and Serenity fame) steals the show here as a character who ingests a potent LSD mixture and gets involved in hilarious shenanigans as a consequence. Veteran character actor Peter Vaughan also deserves full props for effortlessly pulling off the role of Uncle Alfie; a handicapped old man who has a profane expression for every situation. Adding to the insanity is Andy Nyman as the hypochondriac who's constantly left to deal with Alfie, a rubber-faced Ewan Bremner who spends his time at the funeral trying to win back his now-engaged former love interest, and a funny Rupert Graves as Daniel's well-respected brother, just to name a few. Frankly, I feel bad leaving some of the cast members out, as all of the actors are just terrific. Had John Cleese wandered into this funeral, he would have been right at home.

Death at a Funeral is most definitely a black comedy in the traditional sense, as humour is mined from grim situations. It's not perfect, but the positive aspects far outweigh the negatives. With a uniformly strong cast complementing the witty script, this is a lively, enjoyable and sophisticated piece of filmmaking. It's not as laugh-out-loud funny as it had the potential to be, but at least it at no point grows tiresome or aggravating, and that's more than what can be said for most contemporary comedies. Unfortunately, an American remake of the film was released in 2010, and the results were predictably dire.

7.3/10

Over the years, the Sci-Fi Channel has built up a rather solid reputation for consistently delivering bad made-for-TV movies (see Boa vs. Python and Pterodactyl). Another film can now rest in this compost heap: Lake Placid 2, a name-only sequel to the awful 1999 creature feature Lake Placid. Apparently the original Lake Placid developed into a minor cult classic and has a number of fans, though I've yet to meet any. However, it's doubtful even the mysterious fans of the original would appreciate Lake Placid 2, which was helmed by David Flores (Boa vs. Python), scripted by a couple of reality-TV writers, and was first aired on the Sci-Fi Channel. This killer crocodile action-adventure is a croc of shit, and it's unable to even replicate the few charms that the original possessed.

Essentially a remake of its predecessor produced on a budget that would barely cover the cost of a DVD, Lake Placid 2 takes place in Maine a full eight years after the events of the original film. In these eight years, the giant crocodile incident has apparently been forgotten and dismissed as a myth. (Not like a prehistoric crocodile attack would've been well-documented...) Added to this, a few more giant man-eating crocs have appeared since the first film, and have started feasting on the local population. The plot of Lake Placid 2 is set in motion when (much like in the original) a crocodile attack leaves a man dead, and the local sheriff (Schneider) is alerted to potential danger. He heads to the lake accompanied by a Fish and Wildlife Services representative (Lafleur) and a big-headed hunter (McMurray), along with a few other unimportant supporting characters. Meanwhile, Cloris Leachman stars as the sister of Betty White's character from the first movie. Cloris, too, is feeding the crocodiles, and is woefully underused in a film desperate for comic flourish (indeed, some of Leachman's lines are the funniest in the whole picture).

You might have noticed I used the plural term "crocodiles", as there is more than one croc residing in the lake. How many is there in total? Fucked if I know. An additional croc seems to be added every few scenes.

At every turn, Lake Placid 2 is banal, generic, tedious and unbelievably cheesy. The screenplay is comprised of a merciless torrent of bland exchanges, limp quips, and stunningly terrible banter. Seriously, the dialogue is brimming with lines such as "After a while, crocodile". As punishment for penning this tosh, the scripters deserve to be rectally impaled with a painful writing implement. Furthermore, the film panders to its target audience by providing senseless female nudity and forced gore, while the characters are one-dimensional stick figures not worthy of any emotional investment. Added to this, the acting is not even solid enough for it to be called merely flawed - the performances are flawed in their entirety. Betty White's character from the original has even been replaced with a full-on lunatic and murderer. Worse, the film is meant to take place in the same location as its predecessor, yet the locations in this sequel look completely different. Series continuity does not exist.

I wonder how many minutes on Microsoft Paint it took to draw this thing...

The majority of the movie's runtime is dedicated to a repetitive series of set-ups and kills, with the absurdly unconvincing CGI crocs constantly popping up. It honestly seems as if the filmmakers were not even trying for most of the film. At times, completely futile ancillary characters show up briefly for the sake of watching them get offed in semi-gruesome ways. For instance, two topless models and their photographer get eaten five minutes after their introduction. The randomness and the laziness of this scene is mind-boggling, and those watching the film may wonder if they changed the channel to watch another bad movie for a few minutes. To make matters worse, the editing is appalling - the cuts do not match with the special effects, and continuity is often an issue (most amusing is that the underwater shots of the lake were obviously filmed in a chlorinated pool). Meanwhile, the croc action scenes are absurd and rely on contrived character stupidity. In one scene, a croc chases a couple of characters up to a house. It even bangs on the door before giving up once the door is shut.

The CGI crocodiles in the original Lake Placid were terrible, yet the eight years separating that film and its sequel have only brought about a decline in the special effects department. In Lake Placid 2, the shoddy special effects are a constant source of amusement - in comparison, the CGI of its predecessor looks positively Oscar-worthy. To be fair, Lake Placid 2 is at times so terrible it's funny, and star John Schneider appears to be enjoying himself. But for every fun spot, there's twenty minutes of terrible filmmaking to endure. As a result, the unintentionally funny patches are scarce, and as a whole this movie is just bland and stale. It earns the most problematic of horror movie adjectives: it's boring.

2.1/10

Lake Placid is a stupid, jokey, abjectly forgettable member of the creature feature horror subgenre. Directed by Steve Miner (Halloween H20) and written by David E. Kelly (TV's Ally McBeal), the film was apparently intended to be a horror-comedy since the filmmakers constructed it with their tongues firmly planted in their cheeks. However, the intentional camp is frequently ineffective, and the emphasis on comedy hopelessly hinders what had the potential to be a decent crocodile flick. With little humour to laugh at and even littler horror to scare genre fans (or anyone else), Lake Placid is not so bad that it's good; it's just so bad that it's really, really bad.

In terms of plot, here's the deal: while swimming in a Maine lake, a scuba diver is torn in half and a reptilian tooth is discovered embedded in his corpse. Following the incident, New York palaeontologist Kelly Scott (Fonda) is dispatched to Maine to examine the tooth. Upon arrival, she meets with local game warden Jack Wells (Pullman) and the town sheriff Hank Keough (Gleeson), along with an entourage of deputies. When they head to the lake (which is not even called Lake Placid, by the way), the team are unexpectedly joined by mythology professor Hector Cyr (Platt). Soon, it's ascertained that a giant, 30-foot-long Asian crocodile (which leaked in from the ocean) has taken up residence in the lake. While Hank and Jack set out to eliminate the croc, Kelly and Hector are inclined to capture it alive.

Thus, the stage is set for a showdown between beast and man. Mayhem ensues, and a few major stars (who, contractually, cannot be eaten) are placed in danger. And this denotes the primary flaw of Lake Placid: it's unable to scare us because literally no characters can be eaten (except for faceless supporting characters played by unknown actors). With the exception of the first victim, nobody is willing to enter the lake's dank, black waters. Thus, the characters can only be in peril if they do something stupid - and they end up doing stupid things on a regular basis. Since the screenwriter only used character stupidity to bring about croc attack scenes (rather than conceiving of anything creative), it's not long before the only viable option is to root for the crocodile. After all, people this dumb should not be allowed access to the world's oxygen supply. To top things off, not only were the characters given below normal intelligence, but so was the crocodile - in one scene, it stares at its potential food for a great length of time, but only attempts to attack once the person is safe.

It's fortunate that Lake Placid runs a mere 80 minutes. Both the dialogue and the characters spouting said dialogue are equally stupid, and dead spots abound. Even worse, the movie attempts to get sentimental about the man-eating beast. As a direct result of this ill-advised sentimentality, it appears that the only villains in the movie are the protagonists hunting this giant crocodile which is simply trying to live its life and maintain a diet of moose, cows and grizzly bears. Former Golden Girl Betty White even points out in one scene that nobody lives on the lake, so it's not much of a threat. Meanwhile, director Steve Miner's execution of the script is terrible - Lake Placid is unmistakably cheap-looking. Admittedly, the animatronic crocodile (courtesy of Stan Winston's team) is highly realistic, but the computer-generated images of the crocodile are beyond cheesy. Once the croc clambers out of the water in all its CGI glory, what's revealed is not the type of monster to strike fear into the heart of a movie-goer.

Despite its flaws, there are at least a few laughs to be hard, intentional or otherwise. For instance, one scene depicts the crocodile attacking a large helicopter. Not only is the concept preposterous, but the character reactions are hilarious. There's also a decapitation that's fairly amusing due to the hopelessly incompetent filmmaking. In the cast, meanwhile, Brendan Gleeson and Oliver Platt are an amusing coupling whose rivalry generates a few notable instances of laughter. Yet, these strong points constitute barely 10 minutes of the film's runtime. Watching clips on YouTube is a better option than enduring this mostly banal creature feature in its entirety. As a horror-thriller, Lake Placid is unable to generate even a slim moment of tension. It's dull and plodding, with nary a decent scare. The only genuinely horrific thing about Lake Placid is that the cast and crew might have believed that they were making a good movie. Also terrifying is that the Sci-Fi Channel produced a few sequels, starting with Lake Placid 2 in 2007.

3.2/10

Piranha 3D is a comedy-horror flick that delivers precisely what it promises on the label: bikinis, boobs, gore and killer fish. A comfortably-budgeted update of the 1978 Roger Corman film, this late-summer instance of schlock cinema is a sensorial assault which stretches out of the screen via 3-D effects to inundate audiences with enough blood and gore to make George A. Romeo's zombie films look positively tame. In essence, the makers of Piranha 3D took the general idea of killer fish attacking members of the human populace, and joyously cranked up the carnage level as high as they could (or as high as the MPAA permitted them). The script is credited to Peter Goldfinger and Josh Stolberg (Sorority Row), but, frankly, it would be surprising if the script was jotted down on anything other than a napkin.

The slender plot unfolds during Spring Break at the fictional Lake Victoria in the Arizona desert, where thousands of scantily clad college students are gathering for a week in the hot sun of getting drunk, getting naked and partying. Keeping all the rambunctious young party animals in line is Sheriff Julie Forester (Shue), who learns that an earthquake has opened up the bottom of the lake. Said earthquake has permitted a swarm of prehistoric piranhas the opportunity to feast on the party animals. A few additional subplots aside concerning characters you probably won't care about, that's all there is to Piranha 3D. Literally, the film feels like it entirely eschews a third act, as it instead ends with a cliffhanger to signal that a sequel is coming down the pipeline.

To be sure, Piranha 3D is thematically vacant and completely surface-level. Every character is a stick figure, the dialogue is bad, and the acting is cheesy, yet these elements are campy enough to let the viewers know that the filmmakers were in on the joke. For B-movie fans, there's little that the film fails to provide. On the other hand, those who prefer more straight-faced horror will likely be irritated by the at times campy disposition. However, with that said, director Alexander Aja still found time to employ shock tactics. Thus, there are portions which seem intended to be taken seriously, but there's still plenty of humour and winks nonetheless. Most interesting are the armada of Jaws references (for those unaware, the original 1978 Piranha owed a lot to Jaws). Underwater shots depicting the POV of the piranhas are present, while strains of John Williams' iconic Jaws music were used, and Richard Dreyfuss makes a cameo. Dreyfuss' role is not Matt Hooper (like in Jaws), but he is named Matt and he does sing Show Me the Way to Go Home. Sly dialogue references are present, as well.

Because the gaggle of characters are as deep as a typical Uwe Boll movie, the first half of Piranha 3D is admittedly too slow-going. Once the prehistoric piranhas begin to attack, though, the film at long last hits its stride. The remaining forty minutes or so are a no-holds-barred, action-packed parade of gore, boobs, spilled guts and severed body parts. Clearly, Aja had an absolute ball devising countless unthinkably gruesome ways for people to be eaten. Meanwhile, a bunch of the film's best moments involve Aja relying more on tension than gore - the murky underwater shots afford the material a genuinely creepy atmosphere. However, the shock value of hot young bathers being reduced to fish food at times overshadows the campy sensibility of the enterprise, especially because veteran Howard Berger's make-up effects are all too convincing. It would appear that Berger and the digital effects artists were not in sync, as the CGI is constantly shoddy, cheesy and cartoonish. The results are baffling, as several of the piranha attack sequences are disturbing rather than light-hearted and satisfying.

Of course, it would not be Piranha 3D without the 3-D aspect, but it would be more enjoyable and easier on the wallet. Once again, a 2010 release has been visually damaged by a shoddy 3-D conversation (though the film was always intended to be a 3-D release). As a result of the conversion, the opening credits are virtually unreadable, and there are scenes that are blurry and indistinct. At least it's not as bad as Clash of the Titans, mind you.

A primary strength of Piranha 3D is Christopher Lloyd's scene-stealing role as the excitable fish expert who's called upon to explain the prehistoric piranha infestation. Lloyd threw himself into the role of a crazed professor with glee; chewing up his lines with every bit as vigour as the on-screen nasties. Echoes of Doc Brown from Back to the Future are evident as well. It's also worth noting that the film contains a scene in which Ving Rhames kills a tonne of piranhas using a boat propeller and a shotgun. It's pretty badass. All things considered, Piranha 3D is a generally fun, ridiculous gore-fest. It's far from perfect and could have been tweaked in a few areas, yet it's still a great ride.

6.2/10

Based on the six-part graphic novel series by Bryan Lee O'Malley, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is a hard movie to explain. In essence, it's a cheesy young adult novel mixed with a kung fu movie that's been spiced up like an MTV music video, and the entire narrative proceeds with the visual logic of a Nintendo video game. For daring audiences, this audacious, refreshing, hilarious late-summer blockbuster provides plenty of eye candy to enjoy, yet more cynical or traditional movie-goers may feel that the film is akin to experiencing an acid trip. Similar to 2010's Kick-Ass, Edgar Wright's Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is bold enough to be original in this cinematic age governed by brainless big-budget blockbusters, but its meta disposition made it a tough sell at the box office.

The titular Scott Pilgrim (Cera) is an unemployed 22-year-old Toronto native whose biggest accomplishment is playing bass in a punk rock band called Sex Bomb-Omb. While he's dating cheerful 17-year-old high schooler Knives Chau (Wong), Scott meets and instantly falls head over heels for the elusive, sarcastic, beautiful, seemingly unattainable New York transplant Ramona Flowers (Winstead). Though at first highly stand-offish towards Scott, Ramona fast grows weak to Scott's understated charms. However, when Scott finally convinces Ramona to go on a date with him, he discovers that he's in way over his head. A happy romance with Ramona will come at a price: he must battle each of Ramona's seven evil exes, all of whom have joined together in a league and are out to get Scott.

This plot synopsis barely scratches the surface of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World and does no justice to the film's outlandish narrative detours, yet that's a good thing because the movie should be experienced firsthand rather than spoiled. Your response to the film will either be giddy enthrallment or baffled exasperation, depending on your taste and tolerance for this form of postmodern abandon. If, for instance, you perpetually wonder how the socially awkward Scott is able to defy physics like Superman and fight as gracefully as Bruce Lee, you're in the wrong place for entertainment. Simply going with the flow is required; otherwise you'll be ridiculing the movie for the wrong reasons. However, it's a tad disappointing to report that the film is more of a frenetic overview of O'Malley's graphic novels rather than a fully-fledged adaptation. Perhaps the graphic novels should have been adapted into a couple of movies, as opposed to all six books being compressed into a single two-hour motion picture. As it is, there's not enough depth to the characters - most of them are just ushered in and out of the film far too rapidly to make an impact. Fortunately, though, the main players are allotted a commendable amount of effective character development, and consequently end up feeling like fully-fledged humans rather than caricatures.

In all likelihood, the more familiarity one has with video games (particularly those from the '80s & '90s) and comic books, the more one will appreciate everything that Scott Pilgrim vs. the World has to offer. After all, the story does concern a geeky young adult living out his life in a world governed not by the laws of physics but by the laws of Marvel/DC and Nintendo. All of the battles disregard gravity and logic, with characters confronting each other using blazing swords and unexpected superpowers before the opponent bursts into a shower of coins. The always-reliable Edgar Wright (director of Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz) was an ideal choice to translate O'Malley's graphic novels to the screen. Wright's brilliant, highly creative mise en scène is bursting with all the tropes from the last twenty years of pop culture - there's 8-bit music, video-game logic, funny-book captions and wacky sound effects. In fact, the all-but-the-kitchen-sink approach feels more authentically 3-D than all of the actual 3-D failures Hollywood has recently inundated us with. Furthermore, Wright even had fun with the film's profanity. In order to deliver a PG-13 product, amusing ways were concocted to censor the word "fuck" without eliminating it.

After attempting to display a certain degree of range in Youth in Revolt, Michael Cera has returned to his comfort zone: the typecast part of the geeky, awkward dweeb. The persona fits the actor comfortably, though, and it works in this particular instance. Cera's detractors will no doubt complain that he's merely playing himself again, but Scott Pilgrim could be the definitive Michael Cera role. In fact, Cera's wide-eyed innocence and dry line deliveries have never been more appropriate. And in the role of Ramona, Mary Elizabeth Winstead is fabulous. The beautiful actress is a perfect fit for the role, and it's easy to believe Scott falling in love with her at first sight. In the supporting cast, Kieran Culkin is endlessly watchable as Scott's roommate Wallace, whose straight-shooting personality is the only straight thing about him. Meanwhile, Ramona's evil exes are portrayed by a range of colourful, famous actors, including Brandon Routh and Chris Evans. Jason Schwartzman is a particular standout as Gideon, while Mae Whitman is authoritative and funny as Ramona's lesbian fling. Honestly, the name-drops and compliments could go on and on for one of the strongest ensemble casts of 2010.

With all of the stylistic choices in mind, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World could have been a garish, tonally confused, tedious mess, but it's not. With the boundlessly talented Edgar Wright at the helm, the picture is infectiously energetic and well-balanced between the earthbound reality of the story and the anything-goes flights of fancy that Scott undertakes to win Ramona. Sure, it would have been better if the graphic novels were adapted into a couple of movies, but complaining about the nature of the adaptation seems like too much of a critic-ey thing to do - taken as a standalone piece of summer entertainment, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is more than satisfying; it's very enjoyable and very, very funny.

8.5/10