Archive for the ‘Sci-Fi’ Category

Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) review

August 26, 2008

I kind of want to say George Lucas raped my childhood with his CGI animated version of The Clone Wars, but he didn’t. He just… disappointed my childhood, like he couldn’t even properly brutalize my good memories of Star Wars. It’s a little like expecting to be molested by your drunken stepfather, but then realizing he likes your brother better. You’re kind of glad you didn’t get what you thought you were going to get, but you still feel a little rejected and confused.

Of course, I’ll probably still watch the TV series, because I’m still hopelessly a Star Wars fan, but the love in my heart for Luke and Leia and Chewie isn’t what it once was.

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The X-Files: I Want to Believe (2008) Review

July 26, 2008

Jump THIS shark, fanboy!

Jump THIS shark, fanboy!

I love The X-Files. From the first season until I went off to college, I watched the show religiously, no matter what time it was screened or what day of the week it was shown on. I saw the first movie on opening day; I have a couple of X-Files tee shirts somewhere in my closet, and even have the soundtrack album of music inspired by the show. I’m a fan, and as a fan I want the movie to be as successful as possible because I think the show ended too early thanks to David Duchovny thinking he could be a movie star.

The film opens with Mulder (Duchovny) standing outside Joliet State Correctional Institute with a suitcase in hand. Pulling up in an old police car bought at auction is Scully (Gillian Anderson). After a quick trip to James Brown’s church in Chicago and a long talk with Cab Calloway, the two decide to get the band back together and save the orphanage in which they grew up.

Oh wait, that’s the plot of The Blues Brothers. Sorry.

Here’s the plot of The X-Files: I Want to Believe, as well as a review.

Image found: here.

Class of 1999 Part II (1992) Film Review 4/5

December 29, 2005

It’s not a well known fact, but Mr. Movie Jesus Troy Anderson and myself not only attended the same high school, we also graduated in the same year. As the last class to have a cool double-digit numerical abbreviation (at least until 2099), we were fortunate to avoid the ugly double zero of our progeny and the non-unique ’98 of our predecessors. Unfortunately (or rather, fortunately) “Class of 1999 II” is not a documentary about my days at Louisville Male High School, but a movie about… well, let me get into it now.

Sasha Mitchell, TV’s Cody from “Step-by-Step,” is not just a retarded surfer guy who lives in a van parked in Suzanne Somers’ driveway. Before he ever put on the biceps-concealing sweater and loose flannel combination, it turns out Sasha was an ass-kicking karate guy nonpareil. I guess with a name like Sasha, you learn to beat up your tormentors pretty early in life.

Not that I’d ever make fun of him for his name, as he’d kick my ass seven times before I hit the ground bleeding, though he’s never struck me as the type of guy who was violent (or even struck me).

Speaking of beatings, I’d like to clear up something once and for all. Sasha Mitchell is not a wife-beater. I’ve seen other reviews of things he’s in make reference to him beating his wife, but if those lazy hacks would do a little research, they’d see his wife needed to have her ass kicked, because she was hooked on drugs and beating their kids. Believe me, if he was a wife beater, it’d be the sole component of this review (see my review of “Jeepers Creepers” for my take on pederast and future castrati Victor Salva), but as it stands, she gets five supervised visits with the kids per year, and if CALIFORNIA won’t let a woman see her kids, she’s a fuck up.

This is one of those movies in which you don’t have to see the original to get the sequel, because it’s explained to you in the first five minutes of the movie, and it’s not like the plot matters anyway. In the original “Class of 1999,” some government killbots were reprogrammed as teachers to beat the kids of America back into line. Needless to say this works well for about five minutes, then all the robots go crazy. Perhaps the robots weren’t all destroyed…

John Bolen (Sasha Mitchell) isn’t your ordinary substitute teacher. For one thing, he’s clean, well dressed, and not drunk. Oh yeah, he’s also a serious badass, like that slightly crazy history teacher/Vietnam veteran who you didn’t want to ‘sneak up on’ because he might snap and break your arm. Late to class? Get your ass kicked. Smoke in the bathroom? Ass kicked. Write in your book? Ass kicked. Needless to say, he makes “Lean on Me” principal Joe Clark look like Elmo.

You don’t even want to know what happens when some local toughs kill a kid and threaten hottie teacher Jenna McKensie (the lovely Caitlin Dulany and her excellent rack) with unpleasantries. John doesn’t like that sort of thing, as he’s an English-teaching, rampaging murderer with the soul of a poet (and a book of actual poetry he reads in between watching Jenna get down sexually with her boyfriend Emmett [Nick Casavetes] from the front porch). Suffice it to say, things get out of hand as John starts showing what may or may not be the symptoms of love, or at least lust, only to have his nascent robot emotions heartlessly twisted, like a yak’s testicles caught in a box fan.

This movie has all the makings of a Living Corpse Classic. Karate guy action supplemented by awesomely bad one-liners, a hot chick with hotter funbags, and robots teaching the Humanities to glorified prisoners? It doesn’t get much better than this, folks, and even the out of nowhere, Deus Ex Machina ending cannot put a dent in the awesome, bloody, and satisfying spectacle of B-movie goodness that is “Class of 1999 II.”

They don’t really get much better than this, gang. They definitely don’t get any better than Sasha Mitchell killing people while spouting war poetry. This is a movie that satisfies all the requirements.

The Dead Hate The Living (2000) Film Review 1/5

March 15, 2005

I do believe, with the foul-smelling, runny bit of cinema excrement streaking the insides of your computer via this review, that Living Corpse has now found itself a second enemy. That’s right, another addition to the THINGS WE HATE list that we haven’t made yet, even though we all hate the same things. Everyone, say hello to Sarah calls metatext, and what I call “self-referential pseudo-“Scream” bullshit that is not original anymore and wasn’t original when it was new.”

That’s what we’ve got here. I knew I was in trouble from the very beginning, when we cut back from a pretty hot scene of an undead hunk and a recently-dead, blood-splattered coroner chick dry humping on an autopsy table to, of all things, a film crew. Son of a bitch, if I hadn’t already paid for this rental, I’d go get my money back. The box said NOTHING about yet another “we’re filming a horror film but a real life horror film breaks out!” shit-festival.

You know the characters already if you’ve ever seen any of these sorts of films. Up and coming director Eric (Eric Clawson, brave of him to use his real name), his two sisters Sherry (Wendy Speake, the nice one) and Nina (Kimberly Pullis, the bitch). Throw in a pothead cinematographer, a geeky special effects guy Paul (Brett Beasdslee) with a crush on Sherry, and “the obviously going to be final girl because she’s the only blonde who isn’t a cunt” production assistant Topaz (Jamie Donahue). Long story short, the zombies are lead by a guy who looks like a skinny, not dirty, Rob Zombie (Dr. Eibon, played by Matt Stephens.)

This movie references a shit-load of horror movies, most of which are obvious to any fan of the genre, but not only does it reference the films (“This is gonna be better than Fulci!”), it goes that extra mile that only the dedicated march; they rip off the very movies they talk about. They find a gate of evil that’s a “Phantasm”-style portal to hell, they tie a zombie down and have a chat with him like in “Return of the Living Dead,” and of course the undead go looking for pussy.

Toss in some mediocre special effects, some really bad CGI, one decent plot twist that they use to get past the evil zombies, a zombie fist fight, groin-assault, lame goth kid jokes, and an extremely gay theme-song that can only be described as “fag metal,” poor acting, and you’ve got a film that is lame even by my generous standards of what counts as lame and shitty. Sigh, and the cover looked so cool.

You know, this was a Full Moon picture, but I expected a lot more out of it. Maybe they should stick to making movies about killer puppets (which look better than anything scraped together in this flick except for Sherry). This is a step down for good ol’ Full Moon. Better luck next time, me.