The Franchise Collection

Although I’ve missed a couple of updates due to other commitments, I do hope that people have been enjoying the Late Show and finding the reviews useful. I try to cover a wide range of geek-favorite genres, both the more mainstream releases (although I usually focus on vintage and genre stuff) and the more offbeat, grindhouse and drive-in fare. If there’s something in particular you’d like to see more or less coverage of, let me know in the comments, and I’ll do my best to accommodate you folks.



It’s been a busy, busy month here at Stately Mills Manor, and it seems that no matter how many discs I spin, the stack to be watched just keeps getting higher. Now, I’m not complaining – a tall stack of DVDs and Blu-Ray Discs truly warms the cockles of this unrepentant cinephile’s black little heart – but it does make this job more difficult. So, in a certainly futile attempt to curb the growth of that aforementioned plastic monolith, here’s the latest batch of capsule reviews from the Late Show:




TRANSPORTER 3 (Blu-Ray)
2008, Lionsgate

As it happens, I’m an action movie junkie and a fan of the balding badass Brit known as Jason Statham. For my money, he’s the only action star currently working who’s worthy of that noble appellation. He is the sole legitimate successor to the blood-encrusted legacies of Eastwood, Bronson, Schwarzenegger, and Norris, and his films are real favorites here at the Late Show, as they manage to honor the no-holds-barred, balls-out action genre perfected in the 80’s… and keep it alive. I’m particularly fond of the Transporter series. The first entry was a fun blend of kung fu and car chase flix, with plenty of explosions and a suitably iconic protagonist. The second upped the ante, with even more outrageous stunts and sly wit, and now Lionsgate brings the third (and hopefully far from final) entry in the Transporter franchise to DVD and Blu-Ray Disc.

Once again written by producer Luc Besson (Leon, The Fifth Element) and Robert Mark Kamen, this latest installment of the series has another delightfully ludicrous plot: Frank Martin (Statham) is forced by a nefarious villain to drive a beautiful young hostage (fetchingly freckled newcomer Natalya Rudakova) across the European countryside. If he attempts to stop or leave the car, a bracelet on his wrist will detonate and blow him to hell. This set up makes for a bunch of interesting situations and action sequences, including a fantastic bicycle chase and some outrageous – and completely ridiculous – car/train stunts. In other words, it’s awesome.

Director Olivier Megaton (!) is new to the franchise, but delivers a creditable job, keeping the pace brisk and imbuing the film with a slick, hip look. My only complaint is that he edits the action scenes and fights with the same ADD, hyperkinetic cutting style so in vogue today (see my review of Quantum of Solace below, for more bitching on this subject), instead of letting shots play out and allowing the audience to track and enjoy the efforts of the highly-paid and talented stunt teams.

Lionsgate’s Blu-Ray of Transporter 3, looks and sounds fantastic, with a razor-sharp, hi-def 2:35.1 widescreen transfer and both Dolby Digital 5.1 and DTS-HD audio. The package also includes a standard definition "Digital Copy" of the film (does anyone actually use these things? I don’t, and I resent paying for them.) There are a number of bonus features, including a commentary track by Megaton, various featurettes, and several BD Live applications.

If you’re a Statham and/or Transporter fan, number 3 is definitely worth picking up. And, if you’re HD equipped, the Blu-Ray is the way to go. Recommended.



QUANTUM OF SOLACE
2008, MGM/Fox

Daniel Craig returns in his second outing as James Bond 007 in Quantum of Solace, the latest installment of the long-running spy franchise.

Before I get into this, let me be clear – I am a gargantuan James Bond fan, and have been since I was fifteen, when I first saw Goldfinger on HBO in 1978. My first Bond film in the theater was Moonraker, and I’ve only missed one opening weekend since then. In high school and college, I was so obsessed, that I collected multiple copies of all the Ian Fleming original novels, bought the John Gardner continuation novels in hardcover, and tracked down the original pressings of the soundtrack LPs. I like something about every movie in the series, and Quantum is no exception. But still, I found the latest movie to be incredibly disappointing, and consider it to be one of the worst in the series, even if the box office grosses don’t agree.

Quantum of Solace opens literally minutes after the conclusion of its predecessor, Casino Royale (2006), and continues Bond’s hunt for the people behind the events of the previous film and his determination to avenge the death of Vesper, the woman who he’d fallen in love with and who’d betrayed him. This leads him to the discovery of an international criminal organization called Quantum, and a rather unimpressive Eurotrash villain named Dominic Greene (Mathieu Almalric), who’s out to – um – corner the Bolivian water supply.

The film opens with a car chase that’s so incomprehensibly edited that it took me four viewings to determine exactly how many cars were involved. All of the action scenes in the movie – and they are many – are cut the same way, and it’s just infuriating. Director Marc Forster also seems to be determined to craft the first James Bond "art film," with excessive cross-cutting between his already incoherent action scenes and other locales… and it’s frankly exhausting trying to follow it all. He does handle the drama well, though, and pulls excellent performances from his cast; I have no complaints there. Nor do I with David Arnold’s fine musical score.

I do have a complaint about the filmmakers’ current take on the character of James Bond, though. All this talk of bringing the character back to the Ian Fleming original conception all sounds fine, but it bears no resemblance to what they’ve done to the character. He’s no longer the suave, slightly snobby secret agent serving Her Majesty’s interests and defeating international malefactors with style and cool efficiency, he’s now simply a thug. He's brutal, arrogant and indiscriminate in his use of violence; much more Mickey Spillane than Ian Fleming. Sigh.

Oh well, you’ve probably already seen the film, and have your own opinion, so I’ll discuss the 2-disc Special Edition DVD. In a word, it’s fine. There’s a beautiful, 2:35.1 widescreen anamorphic transfer, and 5.1 Dolby Surround and DTS audio options. The first disc includes several theatrical trailers and a music video of Jack White and Alicia Keyes’ theme song. Surprisingly, there’s no commentary track by the director.

Disc 2 contains a slew of behind-the-scenes and production featurettes, most originally prepared for British television. They’re the usual, self-congratulatory fluff pieces, but they’re nicely produced. No doubt, there will be an even more special Special Edition coming along in a year or so.

For fans of the film and Bond completists – including me – picking this up is a no-brainer.



THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH (Blu-Ray)
GOLDFINGER (Blu-Ray)
MOONRAKER (Blu-Ray)
1999, 1964, 1979,MGM/Fox
For those who prefer their James Bond old school, MGM continues their gradual roll out of Bond titles on Blu-Ray with three new discs. One is an undeniable classic, while the other two are generally not as highly regarded; though I enjoy them both.

The World Is Not Enough (1999) was Pierce Brosnan’s third outing as agent 007, and aside from a few pacing problems, I think it’s a fine Bond film. Brosnan is firmly in control of the role and is even given a few opportunities to exercise his acting chops, especially in his scenes with villainess Sophie Marceau. I don’t even mind Denise Richards’ nuclear physicist – of course, nuclear physicists look like that in James Bond’s universe! The plot’s convoluted and preposterous, but what else is new? I like it.

Goldfinger (1964) was the third Bond film, and the one that established the formula for nearly all the films to come. Sean Connery is perfection in a movie that ranks among the very best of the era, and it’s the one that is usually held up as the best of the series. It’s certainly the most influential and best remembered of the classic films.

1979’s Moonraker was the producers’ response to the record-setting box office grosses of Star Wars, and featured agent 007 – in the form of Roger Moore, assaying the role for the fourth time – battling a megalomaniac bent on world destruction… in space! Certainly among the most over-the-top and campiest of the series, Moonraker is still good, briskly-paced entertainment, and hell, even the most serious Bond fan should be able to enjoy a little tasty cheese once in a while. Additionally, I think the old-style, handmade special effects and amazing Ken Adam-designed sets still hold up remarkably well.

All three movies have been blessed with brand new, high-def transfers, and amped-up sound. World and Moonraker are both presented in 2:35.1 widescreen, and Goldfinger is presented in its original full-frame aspect ratio. These films have never looked better – and I know, since I’ve owned all of them in multiple earlier formats. Each disc is loaded with bonus features – commentaries, documentaries, trailers, trivia, and much more.

MGM/Fox Home Video has made these available separately and as a nicely packaged box set. If you’re set-up for Blu-Ray and high-def, it’s absolutely worth upgrading. Highly recommended.



ANDY RICHTER CONTROLS THE UNIVERSE - The Complete Series
2002, CBS/Paramount
Another imaginative Fox sitcom that was unappreciated and briskly canceled by the schizophrenic network, Andy Richter Controls the Universe featured the former Conan O’Brien sidekick in a workplace ensemble comedy that was rife with fantasy and great characters.

Richter plays Andy, a technical writer for a megacorporation that makes weapons for the government as well as a wide variety of consumer products. He shares his office with a neurotic but lovable illustrator (Jonathan Slavin), his handsome, charismatic best friend (James Patrick Stewart), his attractive, abrasive supervisor (Paget Brewster) and the cute receptionist (Irene Molloy) he has a crush on – for about three episodes. Andy gets through the days with the help of his overactive imagination and the support of his friends.

I loved the show when it aired back in 2002, and was disappointed when Fox unceremoniously dumped it. Now the entire 14-episode series, including five previously unaired episodes, is on DVD from CBS/Paramount, and I found it just as good as I remembered.

(I just have to mention that I became completely obsessed and freaked out with the sudden realization I had while re-watching the series that John Patrick Stewart, who plays Richter’s best friend, was the kid who played Doctor Zee on Galactica: 1980! That should definitely establish my geek cred…)

CBS/Fox presents the series in its original full-frame format, with the 14 half-hour episodes spread across three discs. The transfers are pristine, but this show isn’t very old, so that’s to be expected. What is surprising is that the studio did spring for several entertaining bonus features, including commentary tracks on selected episodes by Richter and creator Victor Fresco, and a retrospective documentary that features all the original cast in on-camera interviews.

With it’s fun characters, smart writing, bouts of broad comedy, and flights of fantasy, Andy Richter Controls the Universe is a comic gem awaiting rediscovery. Recommended.



ESCAPE TO WITCH MOUNTAIN
RETURN FROM WITCH MOUNTAIN
1975, 1978, Disney
With Disney’s Race to Witch Mountain in theaters (is it still?) the studio finds itself required to re-release the original Witch Mountain films on DVD as part of their (very blandly packaged) "Walt Disney Family Classics" line.

If you never saw these perennial Disney favorites before, here’s the basics: two blond pre-teen orphans with mysterious mental abilities (including telepathy and telekinesis), Tony (Ike Eisenmann, The Fantastic Journey) and Tia (Kim Richards, Tuff Turf), search for the truth about their origins while trying to elude various criminals intent on exploiting the kids’ powers. In the first film, millionaire Ray Milland (X- The Man With the X-Ray Eyes) is after the kids, while in the second, Christopher Lee (Horror of Dracula) and Bette Davis (Burnt Offerings) have their greedy hearts set on controlling Tony’s TK talents.

Directed by John Hough (The Legend of Hell House, Dirty Mary Crazy Larry), both films feature primitive 70’s special effects and a certain flat, TV look, yet the stories and characters are still quite engaging, both for nostalgic adults and young children. My young niece and nephew, despite being raised on today’s flashy CGI-heavy fantasy flicks and video games, loved the movies, watching them so many times my sister begged me to take the disc back.

Both films have been released on DVD before, first in bonus-laden special editions some years ago and then as a bare-bones double feature disc in 2006. These new releases include all the extras from the original release, plus all new pop-up trivia subtitles. Both films are presented in their original 1.75:1 theatrical aspect ratios and are anamorphic. Both films include commentary tracks, behind the scenes featurettes, music video montages, and other Disney-styled features. My favorite is on the Return disc, an interview with Christopher Lee promoting the film in Italy, where we see the veteran screen heavy demonstrating his mastery of Italian! It’s a great bit.

If you haven’t got these wonderful family adventure flicks already, you certainly should. Recommended.

PINOCCHIO 70th ANNIVERSARY EDITION(Blu-Ray)
1940, Disney
It’s funny how studios figure anniversaries; Pinocchio, Walt Disney’s second animated feature film was released in 1940. By my math, that would make the 70th Anniversary 2010, not 2009. Oh well, in any case, the studio has chosen to remaster, restore and release this all time animated classic on Blu-Ray, and I’m glad they did.

Disney’s version of the Carlo Collodi story of the wooden puppet who is granted life a Blue Fairy and wishes nothing more than to be a "real boy," is known to all of us, along with such endearing supporting characters as Geppetto the woodcarver, Jiminey Cricket, cat Figaro and goldfish Cleo, as well as the evil Stromboli and the fearsome Monstro the Whale. But what’s amazing is just how well the movie holds up. The storytelling – never mind the lush, rich animation – is flawless, and the musical score is wonderful.

Disney’s new Blu-Ray edition includes two Blu-Ray discs and a standard definition DVD of the film. As usual, the transfer and audio quality are of the highest possible standard, employing the most cutting-edge of high definition video technologies. Presented windowboxed, in its original 1.33:1 Academy aspect ratio and at full 1080 hi-def resolution, the restoration of the film is gorgeous, with astounding detail, rich blacks and amazing color fidelity. The movie has absolutely never looked as good as it does here. Multiple audio options are available, up to 7.1 DTS-HD Surround. Bonus features are bountiful, and I simply don’t have the room (or time) to go into them all, but anyone interested in the movie and its place in animation history will not be disappointed by the depth and breadth of the behind-the-scenes material.

Highly and unreservedly recommended.


SPACE ANGEL COLLECTION #1
1962, VCI Entertainment
SyncroVox! This incredible innovation in animation was a technique pioneered by the geniuses at Cambria Productions in the early Sixties. This amazing process involved superimposing the highly rouged lips of live actors over the faces of cartoon characters, for absolutely perfect, synchronized dialogue! Among Cambria’s other innovations was an extremely liberal interpretation of the word "animated," as they relied pretty heavily on utterly static drawings of their characters. Cambria Productions was one of several outfits that supplied short, 5-minute serialized toons to independent television stations during the Golden Age of TV, shorts that were usually integrated into a local kid’s cartoon show, usually hosted by a cowboy, pirate or clown. (Ours was hosted by the station’s announcer and his dog puppet.)

Cambria’s most popular productions were an adventure show called Clutch Cargo and… Space Angel!

Now, thanks to the nostalgia merchants at VCI Home Video, you too can thrill to the interplanetary exploits of Scott McCloud, alias the heroic Space Angel, as fights to keep the spaceways safe from evil aliens and ruthless space pirates. Each story is made up of five five-minute segments, composed of mostly unmoving drawings used over and over. Also, the producers were apparently unwilling to go to the meager expense of actually superimposing those lips in all the time, so quite often the character’s mouths are obscured by microphones, or we’re given drawings of the back of their heads! The actual drawings are quite nice though, many of them the work of veteran comics and animation artists Alex Toth and Doug Wildley, so it’s not a total gyp.

VCI’s Space Angel Collection #1 includes nine full, 5-part adventures on a single disc. The toons are presented full frame, with mono sound. Unfortunately, the source material isn’t in the greatest shape. There’s lots of damage, dirt and scratches, and the colors are pretty faded.

Still, if you’ve the patience for it, or are a lover of cartoon kitsch, they’re definitely worth watching. And if you happened to grow up with these cartoons, you may find the trip back to your unsophisticated childhood to be a fun one.

Me, I’m eagerly awaiting Collection #2!


• COMING ATTRACTIONS: Next time, it’s back to the "B’s" with reviews of The She Beast, The Centerfold Girls, Tokyo Zombie, Dragonquest, Laid To Rest, and more.

Opening Credit Mash-Ups

Some of these are brilliant. Check them all after the jump.

The Fine Art of Lowbrow Marketing

For as far back as I can remember, I've always had the art bug.

My mother tells me that as an infant, my favorite toys were crayons. If I wasn't coloring everything in site from newspapers to wallpaper, I was eating them. After they were rescued from becoming baby vomit and I got a bit fussy, she'd set me down in front of a well-worn copy of Thompson's Masterpieces of Italian Painting and I'd become all eyes and smiles again. In fact, paintings and illustrations have always held a special allure for me.


In the fourth grade I was sent home from school for selling lewd caricatures to fellow students -for a mere dollar apiece!

When I was reprimanded (and temporarily suspended) I was genuinely shocked. When asked why I had drawn "such filth," I responded that I couldn't understand how anyone with an ability to do so would ever paint or draw anything but a naked lady. After that they offered to skip me a grade.

At the time I honestly didn't consider my depiction of Mrs. Laughlin* to be "filthy" or even in bad taste. I didn't doodle her actual dimensions; I gave her Sue Storm hips and Red Sonja nips. I took it as a compliment that anyone (never mind everyone) could easily recognize my sketch as an idealized nude of the prettiest kindergarten teacher north of Boston. I didn't get kicked out of school and I didn't skip a grade, but I did get a drafting table for Christmas and went from copying the styles of Harvey Kurtzman and Michael Kaluta to collecting original art from Jack Kirby and Gil Kane. And it only spiraled from there.

My arrival in Los Angeles coincided with the first crashing wave of the Lowbrow art movement, and within a few brief years I was able to transform an innocent hobby into a lucrative business: buying and selling comic book art. By 1992 I was buying entire issues of comic art from people like Simon Bisley and Brendan McCarthy. It was a quick way to turn a buck at a time when Wall Street speculators were gearing up to kill the comic book industry completely. Perhaps a step ahead of them (and then again perhaps not) I made a lateral switch to collecting and dealing in uncommercial pop art.

This was a far cry from Warhol and Lichtenstein. These were works by the lesser known (at the time) and more irreverent painters of the Kustom Kulture scene. These guys were drawing or designing the majority of the cool concert posters available in the late 80's and early 90s for now legendary venues like CBGB's, Emo's, Jabberjaw and Hammerstein Ballroom. Kozik, Coop and Pizz may have been the bastard sons of Robert Williams and Ed "Big Daddy" Roth, but fame didn't happen overnight them any more than it did for Bob and Ed. I should know: I lugged five gigantic tubes of their posters all over Tokyo back in 1993 -in the snow (uphill both ways!), and managed to sell a single, stinkin' Beastie Boys poster.

As a matter of fact, it wasn't until the original Underground Artists (S. Clay Wilson, Robert Crumb, Victor Moscoso, Rick Griffin, Gilbert Shelton, Spain Rodriguez and the aforementioned Robert Williams)got back together to launch ZAP 13 that the Lowbrow Movement as a whole was even recognized by the legit art world. By 1995, R. Crumb had been the focus of an Oscar-worthy documentary, Williams paintings adorned the covers of multiple platinum-selling records, and original 60's psychedelic rock posters were fetching thousands of dollars on a fledgling website called eBay.

Rather than forge a crevasse between the lowbrow artists of the past and present, it created an umbrella under which both thrived. With original Williams paintings now costing upwards of fifty-thousand dollars each, young collectors invested in the next wave of Pop Surrealism and built careers for people like Mark Ryden, Shag and Shepard Fairey. It was this new term that caught the attention of Madison Avenue, and even Disney embraced the work of lowbrow wunderkind Gary Baseman to produce an animated film based on his creation, Teacher's Pet.

Whereas the original lowbrow art was an embrace of ugly, the new school had a heavy lean towards cute. B-movie monsters and hot rods were replaced by Walter & Margaret Keane's bulbous-headed, sad-eyed children as a primary influence. And guess what? It took off like a shot. While Mark Ryden has only exhibited about 80 paintings in his entire career, a painting in his recent Japanese show reportedly sold for a million dollars. Todd Schorr's last gallery show was primarily prints -for a thousand bucks each.

All this during the worst economic slump in ages...

Well, comic book and horror movie fans have known for years what the rest of the culture seems to just be learning: cute sells. Compare the box office of Near Dark with Lost Boys. Contrast the subscription sales of Ms. Tree to the heavily reprinted adventures of The Rocketeer. I'm in no way criticizing the easier-on-the-eyes selections mentioned above -I wore one of those "Sleep all day. Party all night. It's fun to be a vampire," buttons on my jean jacket all through tenth grade, and I still have a Dave Stevens' Bettie "Wow" poster in my den. But in each case, the less attractive is as worthy and deserving of attention (perhaps more so) as the more successful example.

Decades later, as I've grown from casual fan and some-time practitioner to frequent patron and occasional curator, I still can't explain what it is about the way Dave Stevens draws women that still taps into that adolescent exhilaration I experienced the first time I saw the cover of Alien Worlds #2. It just does. Likewise, I can't pinpoint exactly what it was about my prepubescent portrait of elementary school faculty that generated such commotion over thirty years ago.

But I am now willing to admit that there's more to art than just naked ladies.

I may not be sure what that "more" is, but I'm willing to accept the possibility...

All salsa, all the time (Chapter 2)

In my last column, I introduced you to the strange underbelly of behavior in the salsa world. As all geeks know, the problem with being obsessed with anything is that you just can’t turn it off. The same goes for salsa with me. I'm the first to say that it does seem extreme, especially for a pastime that has nothing to do with my profession. Yet it is more difficult than it seems to curtail.

When I first got the bug, I was dancing 4-5 nights per week, which consisted of a combination of social dancing and group classes. Factor in time spent watching instructional DVDs and clips on YouTube, as well as practicing at home, and you've got one massive time suck. Now I’ve curbed it down to 2-3 times per week, and am very consciously trying not to go out more. For instance, I successfully resisted going out last night. There’s a club in El Segundo that tries to pull me in with its tractor beam every Sunday. It has no cover charge, free parking and a group of salseros with whom I have built friendships, so I know I will dance there consistently. That allure is hard to beat, even if I've got work the next day.

So why do it? Have you ever gotten a "runner's high"? Have you ever been flying high as a kite after playing a [insert whatever sports/video/board game you like to play here]? Well, combine the rush of endorphins with a proverbial cocktail of infectious music, physical contact, the challenge of executing new moves, and good old-fashioned sweat, and you get the thrill of a "salsa high." I should also add that I detest exercise, as ironic as this may sound. There is nothing more boring to me than being on a treadmill. Dancing is my way of getting my cardio while keeping my mind occupied.

I went to a more "traditional" Hollywood night club a few weeks back, the kind that you see portrayed on "Entourage." You had to be on a list, scantily clad go-go dancers were displayed on a stage, and everyone was sizing each other up. Multiple drinks were spilled on the dance floor, and girls were falling down drunk by the end of the night. When I compare the two, I actually find the salsa world much more civilized.

So how do you navigate the salsa club scene? Half the time I will carpool with a salsera friend of mine, but it's not uncommon for me and many others to show up at a club alone. A popular misconception is that you have to know someone to ask them to dance. When one of my business acquaintances learned that I went salsa dancing, she asked, “You just go out and dance with strangers?” Well, yes. And it’s actually quite liberating. The social morés are different. If someone asks you to dance, all you do is exchange first names (sounds illicit like something from "Eyes Wide Shut," but it's not). Then you can have a 4-6 minute “relationship” with a partner, completely flirt, be suggestive, and nothing has to come of it. This might sound torturous to some people. I find it cathartic. There’s none of the pressure that you would have on a date, and it can all stay on the dance floor.

If you like dancing with that person, you can exchange information with them so that you might coordinate meeting to dance at a club in the future. My cell phone is programmed with a couple of dozen first names for this purpose, all indexed by the word "Salsa." If not, you thank them for the dance when the song ends, give them a smile and move on. And just like a football player, I can't get in the zone every time I go dancing, or with every partner. Which probably goes back to why people can become salsaholics: to find a connection with a person, even for 5 minutes, is euphoric. It's much like being able to watch a movie repeatedly or discovering a book that you can't put down.

If you happen to tire of all the clubs in your city (and if you're an addict, you will find all of them quickly), you will start exploring going to congresses and festivals. There is one festival that happens in Palm Springs every July that I affectionately call "salsa camp." Just equate it to a Comic Con, where all geeks interested in the chosen geek common denominator converge on a central place (convention center, hotel, auditorium) to geek out further with people across the globe that they would not usually be able to geek out with in person. There are workshops during the day, pool parties (or naps) in the afternoon, performances, and social dancing at night/early morning. Do some further investigation and you will find that there are salsa events like this all across the globe, from Scotland, Japan, Germany, Turkey, and everywhere in between. The movement isn't as covert as one might think.

Am I on the level of Cristian and Shani in that YouTube clip I posted last time? Absolutely not. Very few are. Salsa dancers come in all shapes, sizes, ages, levels and colors. There is one particular salsero named Don Baarns, who started dancing when he was 42 and hasn't let up since. What I find is nice about salsa, which I believe can be said for all of the performing arts, is that you never can truly "master" it so you always have a goal towards which to work. And so, I continue to aspire to this:

Scrubs XXX - The Screenplay

Last week, Zach Braff appeared on Jimmy Kimmel Live and talked a bit about the upcoming porno parody of Scrubs, Scrubs XXX.



And now, thanks to the top notch journalists at TMZ, we have the first look at the screenplay for Scrubs XXX!!!

Click HERE to read it!

ANDY HALLETT (1975-2009); "Lorne" on TV's ANGEL

According to E! Online, Andy Hallett, 33, passed away far too soon, following a five year battle with heart disease.

Hallet, will forever be remembered by geeks as Lorne ("the Host") on the television series Angel, the Buffy the Vampire Slayer spin-off, created by Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt.

FOG! offers the sincerest condolences to his friends and family.

Watch several of Hallett's musical performances after the jump.

The Other Jane Seymour

Showtime's The Tudors starts it's third season this Sunday and the first episode is here for all you faithful geeks after the jump.

Also, be sure to check out the very cool Pop Tudors site as well.

Comic Book Job Opportunity - Change The World

Welcome to the geek version of Fantasy Football.

It's Geek Editor-in-Chief.

In this world Joe Quesada and Dan DiDio have gotten their pink slips. In this economy, the powers that be have decided to reboot the entire line and have put their trust in you. Can you save mainstream comics!


Rules:
1. Choose Marvel, DC or both.
2. Create 15 titles per company. No artist can draw more than one book a month, no writer can write more than three titles a month.
3. Be creative. What books would you want to read.

Send all submissions to editor @ forcesofgeek.com and we'll post the best ones.

Read my Marvel and DC lineups later this week!

The Time Capsule

The Dungeon Masters (Movie Review)

A glove fits tightly onto a hand. Buttons securely hold the vest together. A cloak is draped over broad shoulders, hanging all the way down to a pair of boots. A sword is tucked safely into a belt. A wide shot reveals not a superhero, not a ranger, but a middle-aged overweight man named Scott, standing in a hotel room. As he strides off screen, we realize that he is a hero of a very different kind of epic: documentary filmmaker Keven McAlester’s The Dungeon Masters.




As a tale of those engrossed in the subculture of roleplaying games, what The Dungeon Masters makes refreshingly clear is that games like Dungeons & Dragons aren’t about competition and winning; that’s not why these fans and fanatics are so enraptured. They’re not all just following the same, mass-printed storyline along with everyone else. The point of the game, and in some ways, the point of The Dungeon Masters, is that these D&D parties are made up of storytellers, forging their own adventures. That’s what’s so appealing, that’s what people can obsess over. So many people are infatuated with much less interesting things, yet the ones who exercise their creativity acting as storytellers are the ones who get the flack.

The film spotlights three Game Masters (or GMs) from three different walks of life. Scott, an apartment complex manager, hopes to translate his storytelling skills into a dream career as a fantasy novelist, though, in the meantime, he struggles to support his son and always-emasculating wife (who won’t even give her husband the benefit of the doubt even in front of the camera). Richard, a casual nudist and reserve in the armed forces, is a passionate GM, the kind that will really hams it up during game sessions. He wants you to be afraid, to hate him as a bearer of bad news, though he’s more entertaining than menacing. Problem is, he’s got a self-righteous knack for ticking his party-mates off during their monthly games. Elizabeth is a young, reputably inventive woman who spends half her time painted black and wearing a silver wig. Displaced by Hurricane Katrina, she merely seeks a job she can stand and a boy to share her home and hobbies with who also realizes that she’s got a brain as well. Each one of these GMs has unique abilities in terms of storytelling (Scott’s novel-like stories, Richard’s showmanship, Elizabeth’s creativity).


The Dungeon Masters begins as you might expect, revealing this cult of geeks who dress up for conventions, lovingly paint miniatures, and engross themselves in a dice-throwing phenomenon. The film seems a bit skeptical at first, much like a non-D&D observer might be. It’s not difficult for an outsider to look at what some of these people do on a regular basis and find it quite silly and ridiculous. But once The Dungeon Masters sucks you in by saying, “Okay, yes, look, they’re freaks,” it begins to stay out of the way, letting each story tell itself, and by their very nature, let each character reveal their similarities between them and the audience member (and vice versa).

Scott has the ambitions of too many struggling artists. His day job is a temporary fix, but in his wife’s eyes, the writing is what’s temporary. He sits at his computer, writing page after page as his wife vacuums loudly. So dedicated is Scott to his goals that when his wife brings in old storage boxes that contained mold, making the apartment virtually unlivable, Scott still types away at his keyboard, wearing a gas mask. He weathers the rewrite process of his novel with his agent who isn’t sure what to think of his work. Hearing that, should his book be picked up, publishers would be looking for a self-marketer, Scott concocts an idea for a public access television show. The premise? A villain realizes he’s terrible at his job, and that his true calling lies in being the host of a public access homemaking show. It's not bad, actually. Gaining and losing support as the year goes on, Scott takes his lumps and keeps pushing forward.

For many years in Florida, Richard had on ongoing D&D game with a specific group of friends. The players built their first characters up from scratch together and played this game often. However, there was a fallout: Richard slaughtered every single one of their characters with no remorse. In a scenario he conjured up, the party was trapped in a room. Fed up with the situation, a player decided to jump through one of the room’s windows, and everyone follows. However, only after they made their decisions did Richard inform them that the window was a portal that led to a “Sphere of Annihilation.” Game over for everyone, hand in your character sheets. They haven’t really talked to Richard since. The story is quintessential for this man, as he is stubbornly unapologetic. Shortly after, he abruptly left Florida, his wife, his family, and moved away, never turning back. Now, he’s making a return trip to see his stepson and to have one more game with the old crew.

So many unpredictable things happen during The Dungeon Masters, which spans a year between two Gen Cons. McAlester expertly weaves the events together, lining up the story arches to form somewhat of a poor man’s epic (complete with enumerated chapters with names that could appear in a Tolkein novel). The documentary doesn’t mind taking a few jabs at the seemingly inherent silliness of these characters’ hobbies, but it’s also sure not to judge its subjects. After all, they’re just like you and me.

Celebrating an Original Goth - a review of Amphigorey by Edward Gorey

Last week I offered up a list of thirteen books every well-rounded geek should have on their shelf. Obviously thirteen does not a comprehensive list make, but rather than push out another thirteen--we'll save that for a week when I'm too lazy to come up with something new--I instead introduce to you, on stage, the incomparable Edward Gorey. Original Goth.




Okay, original is a strong word. I leave out folks like Poe, Shelley, Lovecraft, and Dickinson. I pass over, perhaps unfairly, Charles Addams. And of course there were the Visigoths and the Ostrogoths. But you get my idea. Gorey was illustrated a kind of brooding, gothic world long before it was cool or trendy.

Edward Gorey (1925-2000) was one of us. He reportedly enjoyed Buffy, The X-Files, and Batman: The Animated Series. He was a man of many talents, but is best known for his macabre drawings which straddle the hazy borders between comic and fine art, and his very odd sense of the...well...odd.

Despite the upper-class Edwardian trappings of much of his work, Gorey was as American as Chicago-style pizza. His work has probably influenced more gloomy artists and dark wits than Charles Addams and Gahan Wilson combined. Think Neil Gaiman. Think Angus Oblong. In Gorey's world, Very Bad Things happen to people--mostly children--who don't necessarily deserve it, and we can feel right in calling this art.





His works sometimes involve monsters, but more often the monsters are people--or reflections of people's dark psyches and dark imaginations. Sometimes the monsters are simply mysterious. They are the Unexplained Dread in our lives, and Gorey puts his pen onto paper and confronts us with quiet horror.

Goth kids, take note. This is how it's done. Black lipstick? Yawn. Wake me when you're drowning in dead spiders and one very live foot-long millipede.

Likewise, Gorey delighted in literary nonsense verse. In the spirit of Edward Lear and Lewis Carroll, Gorey was fond of precision rhythms and wordplay. Surrealism that is very carefully crafted, which is why his work is as much a pleasure to read aloud as to oneself. Call it Dr. Suess for people (kids and grownups) with a sense of humor about their fears.

Gorey's Amphigorey: Fifteen Books is truth in advertising. Each of the fifteen short pieces were originally published as individual volumes; now they are collected into this one larger volume. If you've never experienced the melodious, yet dreadfully twisted, world of Edward Gorey, this is a good representative and affordable place to start. In Gorey's words:

Amphigorey is made up of books first published between 1953 and 1965. They are now difficult and often expensive to come by: hence this compilation. Its title is taken from amphigory, or amphigouri, meaning a nonsense verse or composition.
E.G.

I think it's interesting that there are no page numbers. I think it says something about the uncertainty of the world of Edward Gorey's creations. They are lives set adrift, and you, the reader, won't enjoy an unfair advantage with page numbers to tell you where you are.

The collection begins with "The Unstrung Harp; or., Mr. Earbrass Writes a Novel", a story about an author struggling with the woes common to many writers (discipline, self-criticism, lonliness, apprehension, disappointing sales) and a little dementia accompanied by artwork best described as quiet desparation. There's no drooling here, but rather a glimpse into a world that seems for both the protagonist and the reader as slightly out of phase. Like looking at a life through a veil.

Next up is a collection of grim limericks entitled "The Listing Attic". It's a bit of hit or miss here. Some of the limericks come off as clever, many seem forced. I can't speak for the few composed in French. The artwork seemed a little hurried as well in spots--almost as if he started with a random sketch, then composed a limerick around it. Not all, mind you. But most.

"The Doubtful Guest" is a well-recognized classic. The rhymed couplets and distinctive appearance of the "guest" make one think of a demented nursery rhyme book. I enjoyed the depictions of the bewildered family in this piece--my favorite being the fiercely bearded head of the household.

"The Object Lesson" comes across as a dark dream sequence with a loosely connected thread of events woven through an equally dark Edwardian tapestry. Some pieces reminded me of the artwork used in opening to PBS's Mystery!



"The Bug Book" is the sort of children's story that sends a really mixed message. What does the black bug represent? Superficially one might assume that it's about desegregation, but that's lazy thinking. I think the black bug represents fear, doubt, and other joy-killers; and the colored bugs take quite proper steps. Then again, not all problems can be solved with a big rock. Hence that mixed message thing.

"The Fatal Lozenge" is a collection of very dark, brooding, and disturbing illustrated verse. Gorey goes for dread and shock in these pieces, that much is clear.

"The Hapless Child" is tragic. Terribly tragic. Oh my god...this is so freaking sad. I want to find and purchase this as a single volume. Imagine the parenting tool it could be. Follow the very sad and very short life of Charlotte Sophia. Then have a drink. Maybe two.

Gorey occasionally signed his works using anagram forms of his name. As Ogdred Weary, he composed "The Curious Sofa - a pornographic work". It's one of those pieces that reminds you how bawdy life on private estates or behind closed doors could be in Edwardian times. It's pretty typical of some of the literature from the time, and the artwork summons up that feel of upper-class hedonism. Of course, it being Gorey, things end on a questionable note. But then again, so did a lot of those bawdy bedroom tales of yore.

"The Willowdale Handcar; or, The Return of the Black Doll" is a fascinating story of three friends--two men and a woman--who steal a railroad handcar on a lark and travel across the countryside to visit friends, relatives and other sites of note. Along the way they observe strange coincidences and connections, as a darker story shadows their journey until...until they reach the Iron Hills. I thought the artwork was exceptional in this piece.

I do know where I can get a copy of "The Gashleycrumb Tinies" as a single volume, and would like to put it away someplace safe so it may one day become Baby's First Book. How can one resist with couplets such as "A is for Amy who fell down the stairs / B is for Basil devoured by bears" with appropriate pictures of just what you'd imagine.

"The Insect God" is the charmingly morbid story of one Millicent Frastley who wanders away from home, gets into a strange car, travels to the a country manor house and...well, I'll not ruin it for you.



"The West Wing" is completely wordless--just gaunt images of an old tired, sad house and its inhabitants and odd corners. What fun one could have with a place like this! The drawings are well worth close examination for odd details, stories untold, and things missing.

"The Wuggly Ump" would be Baby's Second Book. It's kind of a cross between The Sound of Music and Jurrasic Park. Let that stew in your imagination.

"The Sinking Spell" examines an unseen phenomenon, force, entity, what-have-you as it passes through the home of an upper-middle-class family.

The final story in the collection is the story of a young lady named Drusilla who is the focus of "The Remembered Visit". It's a more wistful tale than a morbid one. Lovely and regretful all at once, with the trademark artwork, and serves as a good endpiece to the collection.

And there is a quick, down-and-dirty synopsis of the fare in Amphigorey. I don't believe I spoiled anything. Hopefully, instead, I turned on your curiousity. There are at least three additional volumes of the Amphigory series, plus additional books not collected, but Amphigorey is a great start. And yes, higjly recommended. An oldie, and a goodie.

Cheers!

For information on how to get your book, comic, movie, whatever reviewed on Falling Off the Shelf, or to send hate mail, feel free to contact me at john (at) johnteehan (dot) com.

Amphigorey
by Edward Gorey
Perigee Trade; illustrated edition edition
January 28, 1980

Friday Video-A-Go-Go!

Shaun Cassidy performing "That's Rock 'N' Roll" on the 1977 Grammy Awards.

This song is the perfect soundtrack for roller-skating around the driveway. So come on, everybody... get down, get with it.

Making a Scene...

This column is about the anatomy of a scene.

There’s a collection of words to stir the blood, right? I can almost hear you scroll down to the next article and exhale with disappointment – no wild sexual encounters, gruesome murders or juggling Chihuahuas today, I’m afraid. (There haven’t been any in earlier columns, either, but trying to get you to read the earlier stuff.)




Your entire script will consist of scenes and each is a little step on the journey to your resolution. The ‘little’ is important because you will need to pare down each scene until it is as lean and tight as it can possibly be – every extraneous and superficial word expunged with a vigour and enthusiasm which would make Pol Pot jealous.

The ‘step’ matters because every scene must take you further along the story – even the greatest, most touching, funniest, totally delightful scene must be exorcised if it fails in this regard. Every time I read someone else’s script and report back on what I would change were it my baby, I find these wonderful nuggets of writing which are clearly only there because the writer loves them. I point out why they have to go, even though I’m well aware that it’s a lost cause, and the writer does the polite equivalent of putting their fingers in their ears and shouting ‘la la la’ until I’ve gone away. It’s important to remember that a script isn’t about great writing, but fantastic storytelling.

The ‘journey’ is what it is. In one sense, a journey is simply the route to where you end up or where you might ever go, so it can never actually be wrong - even if it doesn’t go to plan the trip itself is the journey. This isn’t the case in storytelling terms, where you have something like a hundred pages in which to introduce characters, make them interact in an entertaining, believable and emotionally satisfying manner, challenge them in such a way that their reaction to conflict allows you to expose their personalities and then tell an entertaining story through them. That’s quite a tall order and it really doesn’t allow room for missteps, so each scene must do its job in a flawless and efficient manner, taking the audience – who have paid for their ride, don’t forget – on that journey which matters so much, even just for the ninety minutes in which you own them.

That’s all that scenes do – everything.

So the point of this piece, in case you were wondering, is a tiny overview of what makes a great scene. Although there are other aspects of your screenplay which will get it sold and made, such as the strength of the characters, the premise and story and the emotional resonance, it is the scenes which will carry all of those things from your mind onto the big screen. They are the bullets of creativity which pierce the heart of the audience. (Does that work? Didn’t think so.)

Here are the Drysdale Golden Rules for Writing Scenes - something which would normally cost you large sums of money in a book, but are actually free in the exciting list of words which is unfolding before your very eyes RIGHT NOW. (Although bear in mind, I only have 800 words, so best not expect miracles, okay?)

First, keep it as short as possible - we discussed this earlier, but it is so crucial I’ll bang on about it again. Give your characters space to tell the story, and do that by not surrounding them with thick, dense text telling the reader (for ‘reader’, read ‘buyer’) what they either don’t need to read or can already learn from the dialogue – if you have more than four lines of action in a block, well, you shouldn’t have - but break it up if you can’t reduce it and make it easier to read. Don’t describe, but use action. For the most part, I have no interest in what the room your character is in looks like or what expression they have on their face or how hard the rain is falling – I am only interested in what happens to move things along. (For ‘I’, read ‘buyer’.)

Second, your scene should have a similar structure to your script – in other words, it should be in three bits; the bit that leads one into the scene and sets it up, the bit that tells us what we need to know for that nugget of story and the bit that takes us out and leads us to another place – the place where the next scene is waiting for us, with its three bits and sparse description and sparkling, useful, informative dialogue. If you want to remember that, think of ‘three bits of the cherry’. Actually, don’t, because it’s a bit rubbish.

Third, make it sing. Use words like ‘storms into’, ‘smashes’, and ‘fury’ rather than ‘walks into’, ‘breaks’ and ‘annoyed’. Think colour, movement, conflict, action, drama. Also, these short and descriptive words, full as they are of emotion and heat, will allow you to cut down on the amount of black print you need to set up the dialogue. There should be emotion in the few words you use, so that even though you aren’t supposed to be telling people in the action what to feel, they should get a vibe from your description which reinforces the information you’re giving in the dialogue.

Use emotion and energy and excitement (and conflict, although that doesn’t begin with an ‘e’) to drive the reader, or buyer, on to the next step in the journey. Your scenes are the brick with which you will build your house – if you miss some out, your house will sag. Will it sag, actually? Perhaps it won’t actually sag, but the rain will come in through the holes, and that’s never good. So lay your bricks carefully, construct them well and place them correctly and if you do that, your house will stay dry. This is a good thing...

The Film 'n' Wrestling Connection

With WrestleMania 25 in less than two weeks and top draw John Cena's new movie due out this weekend, one can't be blamed for having wrestling on the brain.

The WWE's attempts at synergy apparently work; after all, I'm not only ordering the pay-per-view, I'm also hosting my own WrestleMania party at home. But will I make the trek to my local cineplex to see John Cena endure 12 Rounds?

Pretty tall order.

Did I like Cena's previous effort, The Marine?

Well...not really. Actually, all of this seems oddly familiar, as though I've seen it all before--wait, I did, with Hulk Hogan.



Given John Cena's place at the top of the roster, it makes sense that Vince McMahon wants to spin him off into films. He's handsome, highly athletic, and possesses charisma on a level fans haven't seen since The Rock and Hulk Hogan. (Like those two in their days, having been on top for so long as a babyface, or good guy, Cena gets just as many jeers in the ring as he does cheers. Call it the nature of the beast.) Look at what happened to them: The Rock is a successful action star, currently appearing in the #1 family movie in America, Race to Witch Mountain. He garnered excellent reviews for his performance in the otherwise middling Be Cool. He's even hosting this year's Kids' Choice Awards.

As for Hulk Hogan, his filmography speaks for itself: a memorable part in Rocky III, followed by hits like Suburban Commando, Mr. Nanny, Santa With Muscles...


Okay, Hulk Hogan didn't exactly set the box office on fire as a marquee star. But after The Marine, Cena's film career bore less of a resemblance to Dwayne Johnson's as it did to Terry Bollea's Hollywood run. In light of 12 Rounds opening this weekend, it's appropriate that on this trip to the vault, we take a look at Hulk Hogan's first starring role, in No Holds Barred.

Now, I don't think I have to remind you of how huge professional wrestling was in the 1980s. The World Wrestling Federation rode a huge wave of popularity thanks not only to its outlandish storylines and colorful performers, but to the "Rock 'n' Wrestling Connection," an unprecedented synergy between wrestling and pop music that led to Cyndi Lauper joining the WWF for a time and MTV broadcasting wrestling specials. It was Hulk Hogan, however, who represented this synergy most of all. With his long (if thinning) blond hair, Venice Beach-tanned physique and his wild interviews (also known as promos), Hogan captured the imagination of kids and teens everywhere. His "Hulkamania" wasn't just a marketing initiative, but a movement. There were the usual t-shirts and foam fingers, but also action figures, board games, sleep sets, workout apparel, and even a Saturday morning cartoon (with the voice of future sitcom star Brad Garrett as the Hulkster).

It makes perfect sense, then, that Vince McMahon would want to make a movie starring Hulk Hogan. The champ wowed moviegoers as wrestler Thunderlips in Rocky III, so why not give him a leading role?

In 1989, the release of No Holds Barred answered that question. Why not indeed? Probably because it would suck.



To account for his limited range as an actor, Hogan was cast as...well, himself, or in this case, a fictional version of himself named "Rip," the reigning World Wrestling Federation Champion. Aside from a different name and catchphrase, everything else is Hogan, from the amped-up entrance--complete with shirt-ripping action--and limited ring style, to the blue and white ring wear (Hogan's alternate color scheme in the '80s) and finishing move, the "double axhammer" (it's not the big legdrop, but the double axhandle elbow was Hogan's finishing move whenever he wrestled in Japan, known as the "Ax-Bomber"). Like Hogan, Rip is also a tireless advocate for children's charities, and as far as we're led to believe, a tremendous do-gooder in general.

Of course, Rip is the biggest star on TV, and this draws the ire and jealousy of rival network head Mr. Brell (Kurt Fuller). Brell sees the big numbers drawn by Rip's matches, and decides he wants Rip to work for him. The problem is that Rip is under contract to another network, and he never breaks a contract, or his word. This angers Brell, who orders a squad of goons to attack Rip. The champ not only beats them senseless, he also causes one guy to poop his pants.



In response, Brell seeks an alternative, and along with his flunkies Ordway (Charles Levin) and Unger (David Paymer), he discovers it at a really gross dive bar, in the form of what's more or less a toughman contest in an octagonal ring with no rules. Brell exploits this, airing it on his network as "The Battle of the Tough Guys." The show takes off, however, when Zeus (Tom "Tiny" Lister) charges into the ring. A seemingly invincible mountain of a man, Zeus effortlessly takes apart his competition, even going so far as to rip one man's hair out as a trophy. Brell is impressed with Zeus' dominance and sadism, but Rip is far less so, hearing from his trainer that Zeus once killed a man in the ring, which led to a long prison sentence. That, by the way, is the only reference to law enforcement we hear in the entire movie.



Rip is assigned a new marketing representative, Samantha Moore (Joan Severance, who I can just watch all day), and they immediately go through the familiar romantic comedy rhythm: they're attracted to each other but can't stand each other, they become impressed with one another, they have that zany "one hotel bed, two people" moment. I won't be surprising anyone by saying she ends up falling for him, and it probably isn't much of a shock that she turns out to be a mole planted in Rip's camp by Brell. Being a woman in an action film about professional wrestling means that her main role, regrettably, is to be repeatedly victimized by Brell and rescued by Rip.


To be fair, everyone gets knocked around in this picture. Brell discovers Rip's brother Randy scouting one of Zeus' bouts. When the younger brother tries to fight his way past Zeus, the monstrous "Tough Guys" champion beats him within an inch of his life, leaving him paralyzed. The incident is enough to spur Rip on to accepting a challenge from Zeus to meet in the octagonal ring. How he accepts the challenge is notable: Rip storms Zeus' gym and destroys it while Brell and his sidemen watch via surveillance camera. In the lead-up to the bout, Zeus is shown to be training non-stop, while Rip exclusively devotes his time to overseeing Randy's physical therapy.

The final battle is actually pretty exciting, pitting Rip against Zeus in a battle for honor and supremacy. Not surprisingly, it's the wrestling scenes where Hogan comes off best, having perfected such an act in the ring. As his opponent, Tiny Lister is convincing as the fearsome Zeus. His cross-eyed glower is enough to make anyone soil him or herself, and he effectively manhandles Hogan for much of the bout, when he isn't flexing, grimacing, and shrieking. It's a terrible sound.


Brell has one last trick up his sleeve, using Rip's friends to try to ensure the hero takes a dive. Being that this movie is so utterly predictable, it probably isn't much of a spoiler to reveal that the good guy prevails, though Zeus and Brell come to a particularly shocking end. As the closing credits roll over the painfully grunted theme song, it's not hard to see how a ten-year-old might enjoy this movie. I loved it at the time, and even now, I can't help but enjoy it.


According to the Internet Movie Database, legend has it that Vince McMahon and Hulk Hogan were dissatisfied with the original script and hunkered down in a motel room for three days to perform a drastic rewrite. I wouldn't be surprised; the entire movie is a self-serving vanity project with an idiotic story. The Wrestler it is not.

In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say the whole thing was written by someone with less than zero understanding of how the wrestling business works. But considering McMahon and Hogan script-doctored and produced the movie themselves, I'll assume they were looking to protect "kayfabe," the illusion of wrestling as reality, and therefore voted against painting the business with any sort of accuracy, save for the fact it takes place in a ring.

What alarms me, however, is how it misses the mark in regards to its target audience. The violence and gross-out gags earned No Holds Barred a PG-13 rating. Doesn't sound that bad, until you remember that McMahon strained to present a family-friendly product in the '80s. Parents who bought the Hulkamania merchandise for their kids were likely turned off by the reported content, which was a little more graphic than what could be shown on television. The Marine had a similar problem--parents of John Cena's younger fans were deterred from theaters by the movie's excessive (albeit hard PG-13) violence. Then again, both movies were also savaged by reviewers.

One of my favorite things about this movie is the supporting cast, who went on to find better, more engaging work after this movie. Mark Pellegrino was pretty bland as Rip's brother Randy, but he made a great junkie sleazeball on Dexter. David Paymer has worked steadily ever since, and snagged a Supporting Actor Oscar nomination for 1992's Mr. Saturday Night. Joan Severance went on to make the Black Scorpion movies, still fondly remembered by its own cult of fans. Then there's Kurt Fuller. I'm still trying to make up my mind as to what I enjoy more about the movie, his devouring of any and all scenery in reach, or any scene featuring Joan Severance. It's a dead heat. Fuller is such a dependable comic actor (it takes such a man to sell a line like "jock-ass"), while Joan Severance, while a half-decent actress, is really very lovely to watch.


All of the above seems more like reason to stay away, but I have to admit, the second this movie hits DVD, I will buy it in a heartbeat. I'm not ashamed to admit I grew up a Hulkamaniac, and watching Hogan take to the ring, even in movies, gives me that fuzzy feeling in the back of my brain. I'm not looking to defend this movie; there's already a column for that. I just like it, screw the haters...even me.

I suppose Hogan listened to critics of the violence, though, because his next film was Suburban Commando, a family action-comedy about an alien bounty hunter who befriends an Earth family.

Was it a better film?

Slightly.

Will John Cena follow suit? Well, 12 Rounds is PG-13, but is said to be a bit less sadistic than The Marine. Unfortunately, Hogan's further films were terrible family comedies. Time will tell if John Cena follows the same career path, but unlike The Marine, No Holds Barred actually deserves a place in my vault.


Believe it or not, the story of No Holds Barred gets stranger. To promote the film, Vince McMahon brought Tiny Lister into the WWF to wrestle Hulk Hogan as Zeus, the story being that Lister was angered at losing to Hogan in the movie. He decided to come to the WWF to beat Hogan "in real life." When No Holds Barred underperformed, Vince decided to package the movie along with a special pay-per-view match, called No Holds Barred: The Match/The Movie. As a special bonus, here it is:

Good Grief! It's The End of Your Career, Chris Brown

From the Usual Gang of Idiots.

Click image to enlarge.

The Terrifying Half Mer-Man! Calling the Miracle Silver Thread

Or, another exciting installment of the Japanese Spider-Man series from the 70's.

CAN HE KICK IT?

It's no secret.

I love A Tribe Called Quest.

It's also not a secret that I don't love everything they ever did (see The Love Movement). But for my formative years, Public Enemy aside, there wasn't a better rap group.

Period.



That said, when I heard about the J. Period The [Abstract] Best Vol. 1 mixtape, I was excited but skeptical. I was excited about the prospect of a tribute to one of the more known yet under-appreciated rappers. However, mixtapes can be real hit or miss. Luckily, I wasn't disappointed.

Why?



Because for the first time in a long time, everything was done right.

J. Period included all the classic Tribe songs like "Award Tour" and "Check The Rhime." But they also included tribute tracks of Tribe songs reinterpreted by bevvy of artists including veterans like De La Soul and Dres of Black Sheep doing "Excursions" and "Jazz Pt. 2 (Tribute Remix)" respectively. Also, there are some newer MCs like Kid Cudi who joins Consequence on "Buggin' Out (Tribute)" and Blu on "Jazz (Tribute Remix)." The interesting thing about the tribute tracks is that they write original rhymes but still keep in the cadence and rhyme style and structure as the original. By the way, Blu's version of "Jazz" is flat-out incredible. Normally, I frown on sex rhymes but he pays homage to the original, yet creates something worlds apart from Q-Tip's lyrics.

J. Period also covers Q-Tip's solo career with "Vivrant Thing" and "Breathe and Stop." When they came out, they were easily two of my leastfavorite Q-Tip songs, mostly because they're upbeat club songs. They aren't bad songs but at the time, I felt like Tip was pandering to the masses. It was like dating a beautiful woman who never wore makeup and let her natural beauty shine through. Then one day she starts wearing makeup and you feel a little different about her. In hindsight, it seems like a move to avoid being boxed in. At the time though, it seemed like straight blasphemy.

The mixtape also serves as a biography as various artists, like Kanye West and Big Daddy Kane, pay tribute to him and his influence on hip-hop. Also, Q-Tip reflects on various moments like getting the records to sample for "Jazz (We've Got)" and how he tries to keep reinventing himself like any great artist would. Rarely do we ever see someone, especially in hip-hop, realize that reinvention may be the key to longevity. One of the more entertaining stories how he mispronounces "gefilte" as "kapelca" on "What?" from The Low End Theory.

Q-Tip also made a name for himself most notably for Nas' "One Love" and Mobb Deep's "Give Up The Goods (Just Step)." Sadly, he doesn't talk about doing the beat for "One Love" which I consider Nas' finest moment on Illmatic.

So Tribe fans should do themselves a favor and get this mixtape, one of the more enjoyable records released this year.

Blu - "Jazz (Tribute Remix)"

WATCH - The Outsider

James Toback is a compulsive gambler, womanizer, writer, dancer, director, producer, actor, drug user, boxing aficionado and now the subject of the celebrated documentary, The Outsider which is available to watch below.

Tough Love Boot Camp Rant – 3/25/09

Hey, are you a woman who has little to no success with dating?

Has Match.com deemed you unmatchable?

Do you have a checklist for the men you date?

Do you have a “Goddess” book and walk around with a rhinestone crown on your head for no reason?



Then have I got a show for you!






All hail VH1 for their seemingly never-ending cavalcade of “reality” dating shows, the latest of which is called “Tough Love Boot Camp.” This is a show featuring Steven Ward. He claims to be a top of the line matchmaker - following in the footsteps of his “famous” Mother, Joann Ward. I've never heard of either one of them. Steve is a no-nonsense, tell-it-like-it-is guy who is going to keep it real with the eight single women who are on this show for eight weeks to help them find their match. He tells them what they NEED to hear, not what they want to hear. It’s brutal, but it’s the truth! I’m gonna watch every episode and take notes.

The first episode begins with the women doing a round of “Speed Dating” with 8 different men, with Steve planted in the group without the women knowing so he can get the real deal. And to his dismay, he sees problems with each of them. The group is made up of CLASSIC archetypes of single woman: the ‘gold digger’, the ‘fix up the wrong man/nurse curse’ victim, the 39 year old and ticking ‘Lone Ranger’. He gives them labels like “Miss Picky,” “Miss Ball-Buster,” and “Miss Wedding Obsessed.”

This is Abiola, "Miss Princess"

After the speed dating, he picks some of the guys from that group and then has the women parade in front of the men around the pool in the back of the mansion the women are staying in – to find out what men REALLY think. After the “reverse walk of shame” as one woman put it, they had to watch the men review each of them in a video clip. Of course it was BRUTALLY HONEST – duh, they’re men! Arian – a.k.a. “Miss Gold Digger” was the most offended because the guys talked about her weight, that she was nutty, and dressed slutty. She does appear to be all of those things and more. While investigating the bathroom of the mansion the women are staying in, she gets squirted in the face by the bidet, because she doesn’t know what it is. Later on, Steve has a one-on-one with her and she begins to break down while admitting she has trust issues with men. Of course these issues begin with her father and how emotionally bankrupt he was with her, and how she busted her ass her whole life seeking his approval/love , of which he never gave her either. Which of course makes ME cry because I spent 10 years on the couch dealing with the very same issues (and other stuff). But I’m not a crazy obnoxious former stripper, and I know what a bidet is, which is probably why they threw out my audition tape.

What I find VERY interesting about this show is that it makes women look like we have way too many issues and baggage to get a man. We’re delusional, we fantasize way too much, and need to be fixed. Where as the men’s dating shows on VH1 are all about them being total horn dogs, surrounded by a dozen slutty chicks who will totally humiliate themselves to be with that guy (that's right Ray J., Brett and Flava, I'm talkin' to you!). Why in the world would they…oh riiiiight, the guy is usually a rock star, I forgot.

This is Arian, "Miss Golddigger."

This is Jody. EHarmony said she's unmatchable!

Then Steve gives the ladies a makeover! It was a long day of whining about trust issues, gaining weight, I’m sensitive, blah, blah, blah. An argument starts between Arian and Jody. Jody has been a bridesmaid 18 times, E-Harmony actually told her that she was UNMATCHABLE, and Match.com eventually gave her a refund when 3 different guys stood her up. Oh yea, she’s already bought a wedding dress but has no boyfriend.

After the makeover, the ladies go to a mixer with all of the guys from the speed dating opener and other men and women. Jacklyn complained about her haircut and how she judges people by their shoes. Then Steve had “group therapy” with them all to hand out the tough love. That included more video of the guys giving their brutally honest critiques, and Steve giving his (who handled themselves the best and who was the worst). The best gets rewarded with the date with a potential match – whoopee! It turned out that Natasha did the worst because NOBODY REMEMBERED HER (she’s the girl with the ‘nurse curse’ I think...I don’t really remember for sure) Abiola (the only Black woman there) did the best by projecting confidence, attentive, focused, and all the guys dug her. The guy she’s diggin’ on said that she was they type of girl that he would take home to his Mother. I guess that’s the best praise a man can give because Steve was VERY impressed.

When will there be a dating show for a FEMALE rock star? I want to see a bunch of dudes drink too much, make out with each other, and walk around topless in a thong for a few weeks. Would a man do that?

The host, Steven Ward is funny, charismatic, calls it like he sees it, and really hands out the reality checks with his foot up their asses, which is what they need. You may have a problem with his accent though. It pinched my ears at first and I was trying to figure out why. And now I know why, he’s from Philadelphia! I hope he says “Strawberry” or “Water” soon so I can make sure he’s from northeast Philly, and not Fishtown.

Please go HERE and check out the site for more info and insanity.

I hope to be engaged within the next two to four months. Wish me luck!