The Mad Evil Supernatural Psychiatrist Will See You Now

You almost expect for a sequel to take a step down in quality from the original. Take the classic Predator; it starred Arnie and was directed by John Mctiernan at the top of his game. The sequel had Danny Glover. Yep Danny Glover...but it was still cool beans.

The same can be applied to House On Haunted Hill, a glossy, but ever so crap horror movie starring the mighty Geoffrey Rush with Famke Janssen, Brigette Wilson, Taye Diggs and Ali Larter. So if the original shouldn't be watched again...what about the sequel?

That's correct...it shouldn't be watched. It's got a TV reject cast...that bloke from ER, that bird from The OC and that kid from Primeval. In fact, the most intriguing aspect is tring to work out if the professer bloke is, in fact, actor Stephen Pacey, who plyed Tarrent in Blake's 7 in 1980 (it was).

There's some nonsence about how the events of the first movie were caused by a satanic idol...which give it a Z-Movie, Raiders rip off vibe...but don't let that encourage you to see this.

The Frog Bros Present: Vampire Jack Bauer

Up until the arrival of Blade in the early 1990's, I never really 'got' the appeal of vampires in pop culture. Lost Boys didn't help either.

It's a movie of two halves. There's the serious teen-vampire movie with Jason Patric's braindead, new-to-town jock falling for vampiric cutsie Jamie Gertz, who's part of pointy-toothed rebel Keifer Sutherland's gang. AS a metaphor for teen angst and parental rebellion it's rather dull stuff. Director Joel Schulmacher gives it his usual flair (glossy extravagence and a rather cool pop soundtrack) but it's all a bit dated now.

The other, more entertaining side, has the two Coreys (Haim & Feldman), battle the undead with humourous consequences. The one halve never really gels with the second. I could argue that it's a case of style over substance but I've never agreed with that arguement. Instead, let it be said, that I've never cared for Schulmacher's style (from Flatliners to Batman and Robin.)

Best moment goes to Barnard Hughes who ends the movie with a killer statement. Pity you've gotta endure the whole movie to get to the twist.

Perfection In Perfection

Following in the shadow of Amblin Entertainment features, which had broad audience appeal combined with a high concept, arrived Tremors, a Jaws on land monster movie.
And just like the Amblin flicks, its got imagination that doesn't exceed its budget, enough action to fill a mega-budget blockbuster, and a collection of weird and wonderful people you wanna spend an hour and a half with.

The cast are great. Kevin Bacon and (an always under-rated) Fred Ward are Val and Earl, a couple of bickering, best friend, modern day cowboys. Without their banter, the movie would sink a notch. With them is a great ensemble including Reba McIntire and Michael Gross as a couple of survival nuts.

The effects are flawless, back in the days when CGI was rarelky used. It relies on some amazing go-motion work plus some fine floor FX to bring the Graboids to life.

Not many movies can pull off monsters, action, humour and thrill, but Tremors does it with ease. The script is rock solid, chucking some excellent one-liners to Bacon "mother-humpers" and Ward "pardon my french".

There was a studio-system philosophy in the early '90's that less mega-budget should be made as greater rewards could be earnt from high quality medium budget films, of which Tremors is one. Surprisingly, in the midst of the current financial crisis, Hollywood studio's are intent on creating more expensive and dumber blockbusters (Wolverine / GI: Joe / G-Force). Perhaps someone ought to show a studio executive something like Tremors. It's a stretch, but they might like it...

Bigga Badda Boomstick

Some of the greatest aclaimed directors of recent movie history have started off in shlock horror. Peter Jackson moved from Bad Taste to Lord Of The Rings, James Cameron from Pirahna 2 to Titanic. And there's Spider-man's Sam Raimi who produced the Evil Dead series in his youth. The third of that series, Army Of Darkness, displays Raimi's unique cinematic sensibilities.

Like director Joe Dante's stuff, Army Of Darkness is a live-action Looney Tunes cartoon. When it hit's its stride...from the insane windmill sequence onwards, it's a collection of surreal, humorously violent set-pieces as Raimi relentlessly tortures his star, Bruce Campbell.

To say Campbell is the star is an understatement. He's in every scene and even gets to fight the leader of the Deadites...himself. There's some unforgettable quips "Hey, she bitch. Let's go!" and some side-splitting physical comedy (Ash swollowing boiling water to kill the mini-Ash inside him).

The cheap effects (the obvious rear projection / the stilted animatronic skeletons ) actually add to the charm of the movie...not detract. It turns the legendary Jason And The Argonauts skeleton fight on it's head making Ash's opponants dumb, Wile E Coyote, puppets-to-the-slaughter.

I still prefer the theatical ending over the directors cut. While the future ending is true to form, give hero Ash lots more grief...the S-Mart ending provides the best bit of the movie. Despite his incompetance, Ash is still an arrogent nob. And what better weay to show it than an off-it's-breasts finale.

Hail to the King, baby. Hail to the King.

Love, Vengence and Fart Gags

Consider, if you would, the above poster for Sylvester Stallone's Avenging Angelo.
If you're advertising a thriller you make the poster dark and serious. Oh, and there must be weaponery, preferably a gun. Add to that the title and you've got a humourless mafia revenge flick. And that's a movie I can't be bothered to see. Seven years not bothered due to it appearing just like Stallone's other tired gansta revenge movie; the Get Carter remake.

So when I finally gave in, that's when the romantic comedy aspect crept up on me. Avenging Angelo is a silly, old fashioned, frothy, romantic gangster themed dramedy.
The nearest comparison is if Skin Deep/Pink Panther director Blake Edwards had made this. It's got Edward's 60's style visuals, a Bill Conti score that's reminicent of Mancini's classier works, mixed with Edward's trademark humorous absurdity and sharp comic timing.

However, like Edwards work, this isn't perfect either. Many gags fall flat; for every sucess (the Brute aftershave joke that runs through the film) there's crap ones (the farting squirrel / farting corpse jokes).

Stallone tries his hand at comedy again, but isn't quite up to it. Fortunately, he's the straight man. Madeline Stowe get the plum role of the girl Stallone's been assigned to protect from afar, all his career. She's spoilt, eratic, skatty, impulsive, neurotic and completely adorable in the role, that reminds one of Teri Hatcher in Lois & Clark or Cybil Sheppard in Moonlighting.

And hot too. I know the movie was filmed back in 2002 but Stowe, wherever she is these days, is a righteous honey. Viva la Stowe!!!

Where's The Pause Button?

REC was one of those movies that everybody else in the universe has seen...except me. People would either encourage me by saying "Come on mate, It's brilliant!" or "The girl in REC is really cute!". Perhaps expecting the same old, same old, I put it on the shelf for a rainy day.

Well that rainy day finally came and REC is stunning. In the tradition of Blair Witch and Cloverfield, it's shot from a first-person perspective with a video camera crew filming a TV show 'While You Are Sleeping' with the programme's attractive presentor. It sets up the story slowly, getting to see the energetic personality of host Angela and the firemen she'll accompany later.

On arrival at zombie central, the mystery and suspense is built, only breaking for breif and shocking moments of violence. Epically long steady-cam shots maintain the anticipation of scares while unpredictable situations and characters are thrown into the mix to spice things up. The movie steps up the intensity in the final twenty five minutes, while the finale delivers a frenzied, viceral horror that is practically unrivaled.

Like Cloverfield, the hand held technique puts the viewer into the heart of the story, forcing themn to consider how they'd react under the circumstances presented.

After careful consideration, soiling oneself is a dignified, and entirely proper option, given the occasion.

So Long And Thanks For All The Rockwell

It was with mixed feelings that I approached the movie adaptation of The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Galaxy back in 2005. Primarily, I was concerned the producers would f#*k up my favorite book; its quirky, very English with some of the most amusing and perfectly formed sentences commited to paper. On the positive front, the film was produced by Jay Roach, a talented comedy film-maker, had a decent hollywood budget and was co-written by the book's author, the late Douglas Adams.

The result, while not perfect, was at least a satisfactory adaptation. The biggest obstacle the movie had to overcome to achieve production status, was to appeal to a large contemporary international audience. See Hitch-Hiker's is a very, very English affair; the humour is both Monty Python daft and drier than all the hosts of 'Have I Got News For You' combined.

The cast are variable. Zooey Deschenel is adorable as Trillion, Mos Def makes for unexpected, but spot-on casting while Alan rickman doesn't come off as well as the voice of Marvin the paranoid android, as Stephen Moore did in the radio play. Martin Freeman is adequete in the lead role of Arthur Dent...but his modern interpretation of the stubbornly middle-class englishman from the book drains a lot of the humor's sharpness. Standing head over heals above everybody is Sam Rockwell as Zaphod Beeblebrox. He perfectly capture the stellar arrogance, stupidity and zest for trouble that embodies the rock-star persona of the President of the Universe.

The film-makers make good choices in the designs from Jim Henson's globular Vogons, the spaceship Heart of Gold and Deep Thought...the second most powerful computer ever. There's a definete Terry Gillian vibe which does the movie no harm at all.

Where it falls down is where it varies from the book. The detour to meet John Malkovich, whilw weird and never dull, slows down the story and detracts from the laughs. Whenever it's being faithful, such as Stephen Fry's beautifully timed passages from the Hitch Hikers Guide, it's stunning.

So not bad, but not great. Perhaps it needed a bigger budget (they kinda cheat Zaphod outta his second head) and bigger balls. The opening sequence, involving a musical number sung by dolphins, is a bizarre creative choice that puts a grin on the face. Then again given the quirky nature of the material, it's a miracle the movie got made at all.