"Movies are so rarely great art that if we cannot appreciate great trash we have very little reason to be interested in them." - Pauline Kael
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Coming Soon: 'Puppet Master vs. Demonic Toys'
It's got an adult Corey Feldman in it. What could go wrong?
"Santa's Slay" - Zach's Take
The only thing worse than a truly awful film is one that that thinks it knows it's awful and tries to wink at the audience. Santa's Slay is such a film. Maria and I had pretty high expectations, I mean, casting a wrestler as Santa Claus? Awesome. But not when you have him spouting off one-liners fit for junk like Epic Movie or Meet the Spartans. Sadly, that's what this film really ends up being.
It's all over the place in terms of tone. It goes from using dumb dick and fart jokes to attempting to have actual emotional moments between the characters. Honestly, it's just a collection of cheap, easy gags with moments of bafflingly stupid drama.
If you took out the violence and gore (which isn't even well-done) this would be a TV movie for the Disney Channel. It's that level of cheese (the wrong kind to be entertaining, in fact) that permeates throughout this whole film. One of the worst aspects is the cast. At first, when I saw Chris Kattan in the opening scene, I smiled. Not because I'm a Chris Kattan fan (do those actually exist?) but because I was amused at how low his career has come. Then Fran Drescher popped up. Then Rebecca Gayheart. Then, I shit you not, James Caan. James. Caan. After that, I realized somebody had called in a few favors and the producers who thought they were making a fun, ironically bad movie had ended up making a plain old bad piece of shit.
Seriously, this should have just been called Paycheck: The Movie.
The whole cinematic calamity is underscored by the fact that it was produced by Brett Ratner. The man is like the reverse King Midas of cinema -- everything he touches turns to crap.
If there's one thing to be learned from 'Santa's Slay' it's that Brett Ratner should not be making movies. If there's two things to be learned from 'Santa's Slay' it's that it is doubly-embarrassing to make an intentionally bad movie that fails at being as good or entertaining as an unintentionally bad movie. Avoid this thing at all costs.
It's all over the place in terms of tone. It goes from using dumb dick and fart jokes to attempting to have actual emotional moments between the characters. Honestly, it's just a collection of cheap, easy gags with moments of bafflingly stupid drama.
If you took out the violence and gore (which isn't even well-done) this would be a TV movie for the Disney Channel. It's that level of cheese (the wrong kind to be entertaining, in fact) that permeates throughout this whole film. One of the worst aspects is the cast. At first, when I saw Chris Kattan in the opening scene, I smiled. Not because I'm a Chris Kattan fan (do those actually exist?) but because I was amused at how low his career has come. Then Fran Drescher popped up. Then Rebecca Gayheart. Then, I shit you not, James Caan. James. Caan. After that, I realized somebody had called in a few favors and the producers who thought they were making a fun, ironically bad movie had ended up making a plain old bad piece of shit.
Seriously, this should have just been called Paycheck: The Movie.
The whole cinematic calamity is underscored by the fact that it was produced by Brett Ratner. The man is like the reverse King Midas of cinema -- everything he touches turns to crap.
If there's one thing to be learned from 'Santa's Slay' it's that Brett Ratner should not be making movies. If there's two things to be learned from 'Santa's Slay' it's that it is doubly-embarrassing to make an intentionally bad movie that fails at being as good or entertaining as an unintentionally bad movie. Avoid this thing at all costs.
Santa's Slay-Maria's Take
This movie was a heaping, steaming pile of film excrement; it reeked so intensely of its own self-referential irony and misplaced self-love that it made the other movies we have reviewed look like the utmost pinnacles of movie-making.
And yet, it was still the best thing Brett Ratner's ever stamped with his seal of approval.
This movie disappointed me to say the least. I was so excited with the prospect of a truly awful Christmas slasher flick--it had everything I look for in a film: the holidays, cheesy catchphrases, horribly miscast celebrities, and gore out the wazoo. Yet, it was one of the worst things I have ever sat through, and I saw "The New Guy"--twice.
When I discussed Tommy Wiseau's cinematic failure, "The Room," I explained my views on what makes a truly magnificent bad movie; there has to be honest to goodness sincerity and true devotion to the work. This piece of crap had neither. It masqueraded as a parody film, but instead felt like it was cruelly mocking a genre I hold very dear. When I watch a slasher film, I want a monster, someone sociopathic with a melodramatic backstory that can somehow garner a response from the audience. I want young actors before their prime paying their dues, their bloody, hilarious dues. I don't want winks and nods to the audience.
This film just can't find its footing. "Santa's Slay" fails on so many levels. It meshes melodramatic murder scenes with wacky Disney-esque characters. It makes stupid jokes that are somehow supposed to entertain, but instead pissed me off. This movie pandered to an audience I hope does not exist.
It also brought Dickens into the whole mess, and that's when shit got personal.
I wouldn't be so harsh if this movie wasn't trying so hard to be bad. It was on course with that awful "Meet the Spartans" level of movie-making. Zach and I cherish those which try to succeed and fail so miserably. We are here to mock, not to condone. We don't take kindly to those who try to be bad, we cherish those who try and fail; that's the American way.
And yet, it was still the best thing Brett Ratner's ever stamped with his seal of approval.
This movie disappointed me to say the least. I was so excited with the prospect of a truly awful Christmas slasher flick--it had everything I look for in a film: the holidays, cheesy catchphrases, horribly miscast celebrities, and gore out the wazoo. Yet, it was one of the worst things I have ever sat through, and I saw "The New Guy"--twice.
When I discussed Tommy Wiseau's cinematic failure, "The Room," I explained my views on what makes a truly magnificent bad movie; there has to be honest to goodness sincerity and true devotion to the work. This piece of crap had neither. It masqueraded as a parody film, but instead felt like it was cruelly mocking a genre I hold very dear. When I watch a slasher film, I want a monster, someone sociopathic with a melodramatic backstory that can somehow garner a response from the audience. I want young actors before their prime paying their dues, their bloody, hilarious dues. I don't want winks and nods to the audience.
This film just can't find its footing. "Santa's Slay" fails on so many levels. It meshes melodramatic murder scenes with wacky Disney-esque characters. It makes stupid jokes that are somehow supposed to entertain, but instead pissed me off. This movie pandered to an audience I hope does not exist.
It also brought Dickens into the whole mess, and that's when shit got personal.
I wouldn't be so harsh if this movie wasn't trying so hard to be bad. It was on course with that awful "Meet the Spartans" level of movie-making. Zach and I cherish those which try to succeed and fail so miserably. We are here to mock, not to condone. We don't take kindly to those who try to be bad, we cherish those who try and fail; that's the American way.
Friday, June 18, 2010
C Me Dance - Zach's Take
Well, what do you say about a film whose producers are clearly batshit insane? Not insane like Tommy Wiseau insane. No, I'm talking Earth is 6000 years old, Jesus walked with dinosaurs, fundamentalist Christian insane.
The great thing about C Me Dance is just how earnest it is. It plays with all the worst and goofiest aspects of Christian mythology with a totally straight face. It unflinchingly introduces Lucifer as a honest-to-badness physical being -- he's not a metaphor or an idea. Nope. He's a fucking ugly dude in a black trench coat. Lucifer threatens Sherri (rhymes with Marie...yeah, I know) and her father with empty words but never actually does anything besides stand around looking like a reject vampire from an episode of 'Buffy.' Sadly, Satan's screen time in the film is essentially non-existent, which makes it even more baffling why they even decided to make him a real character in it to begin with. Not that the film contains any actual characters anyway... *HIYOOOOOOOOOO*
But seriously, this piece of junk was shot on RED and somehow manages to look worse than family videos shot on a consumer handicam.
More perplexing is the absence of any kind of conflict or drama. I mean, Sherri's entire character arc occurs within the first act! She learns she has cancer, has a crisis of faith, the cancer goes away somehow and her faith is completely restored within the first 30 minutes. The next hour depicts Sherri becoming some sort of prophet who doesn't need to speak in order to convert people...but delivers a final speech anyway.
Writer, director, and star Greg Robbins claims in an interview that the film was not produced for fellow Christians, instead, he insists that C Me Dance was made in order to convert non-believers. Well, Mr. Robbins, this film hasn't made me a Christian, but it has certainly made me a disciple of your cinematic travesty.
The great thing about C Me Dance is just how earnest it is. It plays with all the worst and goofiest aspects of Christian mythology with a totally straight face. It unflinchingly introduces Lucifer as a honest-to-badness physical being -- he's not a metaphor or an idea. Nope. He's a fucking ugly dude in a black trench coat. Lucifer threatens Sherri (rhymes with Marie...yeah, I know) and her father with empty words but never actually does anything besides stand around looking like a reject vampire from an episode of 'Buffy.' Sadly, Satan's screen time in the film is essentially non-existent, which makes it even more baffling why they even decided to make him a real character in it to begin with. Not that the film contains any actual characters anyway... *HIYOOOOOOOOOO*
But seriously, this piece of junk was shot on RED and somehow manages to look worse than family videos shot on a consumer handicam.
More perplexing is the absence of any kind of conflict or drama. I mean, Sherri's entire character arc occurs within the first act! She learns she has cancer, has a crisis of faith, the cancer goes away somehow and her faith is completely restored within the first 30 minutes. The next hour depicts Sherri becoming some sort of prophet who doesn't need to speak in order to convert people...but delivers a final speech anyway.
Writer, director, and star Greg Robbins claims in an interview that the film was not produced for fellow Christians, instead, he insists that C Me Dance was made in order to convert non-believers. Well, Mr. Robbins, this film hasn't made me a Christian, but it has certainly made me a disciple of your cinematic travesty.
C Me Dance-Maria's Take
I tried to go into this film with an open mind. That lasted about five minutes. See, I was just plumb excited to watch a good ol' fashion wholesome Christian film; instead, I got this God-forsaken piece of cinematic crap. From the moment the leading lady, Sherie is introduced as "Sure-Ree," I was done with this movie.
Here's the thing, this isn't a film like "The Room" which is well-known for its craptastic filmmaking, rather, this film is actually watched...by Christian fundamentalists. It follows teenage dancer (wholesome ballet, not like the Devil's damned ballroom nonsense,) Sure-Ree, who, upon collapsing discovers she is in the late stages of leukemia. After the first mention of her terminal disease, it is only briefly re-mentioned when necessary to continuing the plot. Anyway, Sure-Ree has cancer and gets magical powers; she can bring people to God using the power of her mind. Confused yet?
Oh, it gets so much better.
Sure-Ree's dad, who looks like a majorly bloated Beau Bridges, helps Sure-Ree gather a flock to shepherd into God's loving hands. Of course, all this Jesus-lovin' pisses off Satan. Satan wears contacts and a trench coat. The trench coat proves he's evil.
Long story short, Satan tries to stop Sure-Ree, but *spoiler* fails. God triumphs over everything, peace and love, blah, blah, blah.
People eat this shit up like it is candy. This movie was so saccharine and full of meaning it hurt. I wanted to love this movie for all that it was, but I just couldn't. Where "The Room" made me laugh and even inspired me a little bit, this film really pissed me off. It uses film to manipulate. Any attempt at art is overshadowed by its overwhelming sentiment.
Here's the thing, this isn't a film like "The Room" which is well-known for its craptastic filmmaking, rather, this film is actually watched...by Christian fundamentalists. It follows teenage dancer (wholesome ballet, not like the Devil's damned ballroom nonsense,) Sure-Ree, who, upon collapsing discovers she is in the late stages of leukemia. After the first mention of her terminal disease, it is only briefly re-mentioned when necessary to continuing the plot. Anyway, Sure-Ree has cancer and gets magical powers; she can bring people to God using the power of her mind. Confused yet?
Oh, it gets so much better.
Sure-Ree's dad, who looks like a majorly bloated Beau Bridges, helps Sure-Ree gather a flock to shepherd into God's loving hands. Of course, all this Jesus-lovin' pisses off Satan. Satan wears contacts and a trench coat. The trench coat proves he's evil.
Long story short, Satan tries to stop Sure-Ree, but *spoiler* fails. God triumphs over everything, peace and love, blah, blah, blah.
People eat this shit up like it is candy. This movie was so saccharine and full of meaning it hurt. I wanted to love this movie for all that it was, but I just couldn't. Where "The Room" made me laugh and even inspired me a little bit, this film really pissed me off. It uses film to manipulate. Any attempt at art is overshadowed by its overwhelming sentiment.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
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