Category: Movies

Not long after watching The Pink Panther, I thought I’d watch the second Steve Martin Pink Panther movie which I was sure I had. So I got myself into the mood for it, and then I looked for it and I could not find it. Well. When I want to watch a particular movie, if I find we don’t have it (or, sometimes, we do have it and I cannot find it), well, my movie watching for the evening is done, and I fall back to reading or something. So it was only another night that I popped in this film for some reason. I don’t know where I picked it up–or if I picked it up at all–this might have been something my wife grabbed, or I might have bought it a long time ago indeed as it was wrapped in cellaphane and had a Best Buy price tag on it.

So, to briefly lay out the plot: Daniel Day-Lewis plays Hawkeye/The Deerslayer/Leatherstocking/Natty Bumpo, a frontiersman who is friends with Chingachgook and Uncas, a father/son pair who are the last of their tribe. But I get ahead of myself.

During the French and Indian War (where, unlike other wars, the French and Indians are on the same side against the English), a Colonel in the British army sends his daughters to a distant fort for safety. They’re lead into an ambush by a treacherous Indian played by the Sphinx from Mystery Men (Wes Studi, whom I could have sworn I’d recently seen in something else). Hawkeye and the Mohicans rescue the daughters (and another British officer) and lead them to their destination which turns out to be a fort under French seige whose letter seeking reinforcements and warning the colonel not to send his daughters was carried by the treacherous Indian and never delivered, obviously. The Colonel had promised the American militia that they would be released to defend their homes from marauding Indians, but the commander of the fort alters the deal. Hawkeye helps them to escape the fort but is smitten with Cora, the oldest daughter, so he remains to face justice for what he’s done. That’s hanging, by the way–it’s a bold strategy, Cotton. But the fort surrenders and the British are allowed to leave, but the Huron fall upon the leaving train and slaughter it but treacherous Magua (Studi) ambush that, too, and steal away the women and the British officer. Whom Hawkeye and the Mohicans try to rescue, but end up having to settle for revenge.

I read the book in college (and have picked up a couple more in the series since then), and I’ve got to say that the book really gives short shrift to the Mohicans and instead focuses on the spectacle and sweep of the film. It’s more historically accurate than the later (both in release and in time period) The Patriot, but the story keeps the protagonist at a bit of a distance, perhaps because of how much had to be trimmed to make it into a single film and not a trilogy.

I must have seen this on home video in the 1990s, and I can probably go another twenty or thirty years before seeing it again. Maybe if I have grandchildren who are into history. I do have another Daniel Day-Lewis film, There Will Be Blood, atop the movie cabinets, so maybe I will see that soon (wherein “soon” might be the next five years).

Oh, and the film soundtrack/score: My beautiful wife loves it. But I dunno. The parts used in the film, which generally is the first number of seconds or minute from each piece/movement, basically sound the same. Maybe it’s a motif or theme repeated, but the whole movements or pieces vary enough to make it listenable as a whole. But I was not impressed.

Well, I am possibly on a Steve Martin “kick” since I’ve had watched three of his movies in the last year (Shopgirl, The Man with Two Brains, and The Out-of-Towners). And since I also just watched a Peter Sellers Pink Panther movie (The Return of the Pink Panther), it was inevitable that I would eventually come to watch this film. As it so happens, I bought it last year about this time–since the Lutherans for Life Sale is next weekend, almost to the date. And since I have watched four films over the last three weeks, I should definitely go to that sale and buy a dozen more.

At any rate, after a big soccer match, someone kills the French soccer coach (played briefly by Jason Statham) who owns and wears the Pink Panther, a diamond that’s the source of French pride and good luck for the soccer team. The chief inspector, played by Kevin Kline, wants to bring into the investigation the most incompetent gendarme in the country to “lead” the investigation–that is, to be the focus of the media attention while Kline and his team work behind the scenes to solve the crime. He (Kline’s character named Dreyfus) selects Clouseau and has a loyal Parisian police officer (played by Jean Reno who had the only real French accent for the film) to keep an eye on the suspects which includes the American pop star fiancee of the coach (played by Beyonce).

So we get a set of fish-out-of-water bit of slapstick with set pieces where Clouseau bumbles about Paris, he makes outlandish mistakes, but with the help of his assistant played by Emily Mortimer, they dramatically make the correct arrest at a big party held at the Presidential mansion before Dreyfus can mistakenly arrest a Chinese official whom his team believes is the real killer.

You know, from his writings (such as Pure Drivel and Shopgirl) and some of his movies such as Bowfinger and the aforementioned Shopgirl, one might get the sense that Martin is a thinking man’s humorist, and he does have that capacity. But he’s also made a career on being a wild and crazy guy, and his biggest films have been more slapstick than Twain.

At any rate, an amusing enough film, and I laughed at a couple of things. One turn from the Sellers films: Instead of his man attacking him to keep him fresh, Martin’s Clouseau says he’s going to keep Reno’s character on his toes by attacking him unexpectedly, and he does this several times in the film and Reno’s character offhandedly deflects it.

So the film includes Emily Mortimer…. Continue reading “Movie Report: The Pink Panther (2006)” →

After picking this film up at an estate sale, I popped it right in. After all, the dumb comedies move to the head of the line here at Nogglestead on evenings when a modern action film seems too heady. And its only because I’m familiar with the film makers (I watched Epic Movie last year), a couple of Zucker/Abrahams/Zucker knock-offs, that I chose this over the National Lampoon-badged film with Paris Hilton. Which I will probably watch by-and-by.

At any rate, this is basically a spoof of 300 with side bits poking fun at contemporaneous things like American Idol, America’s Top Model, and other reality shows. It’s got some off-color humor to it, a bit of making fun of the homosexual tropes of the buff men in leather, and whatnot. Amusing in spots but it is what it is.

It has Kevin Sorbo several years past his Hercules days (and Kull the Conqueror) playing the lieutenant and Carmen Electra playing the wife of Leonidas. You spot some other people whom you think you should know, or I did, but I didn’t know them. And the collection of people portraying other famous people were so spot-on that I thought Paris Hilton actually appeared in the film making light of herself. But it was Nicole Parker instead.

I know, I know: Usually when I mention an actress by name, I post photos. But I’m too lazy today to go hunting for photos.

So: Here I am, at Rotarian or Knights of Columbus age, watching dumb comedies. I don’t know if that’s keeping me eternally youthful–doubtful–or if it means I’m a man-child who needs to grow up. Probably the latter.

In a story about Barry Diller’s new autobiography, the New York Post provides illustrations.

Ay, who needs AI to garble things up when we have humans who can hallucinate things for free?

(For the uninitiated and the young amongst us, note that the image is from Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F, a 2024 Netflix thing, not the first film. Or a real movie, actually.)

I cannot remember if I saw this film originally in the theaters–it came out right as I was finishing college, so I might have been fairly broke that summer or I might have been blowing my college graduation gifts at the time. However, this was not my first viewing of the film, although it had been some time. I’ve kind of thought about it since, and it’s one of those “Don’t we have that?” films where my beautiful wife is surprised that we don’t actually have a film in our library. But if we’ve watched it in the thirty years since its release (!), it could have been on cable or as a rental as we’ve had a television package for most of that time.

On Devil’s Night in Detroit, a group of thugs working for the local crime boss kill a woman who is protesting evictions in their building and her boyfriend. One year later, he claws his way from the grave and, guided by a crow, seeks vengeance on the gang and ultimately kills not only the gang but also the boss behind their actions and a lot of extra local crime figures to boot. So think a Goth Mack Bolan or a Gothier Frank Castle who is undead and whose wounds heal instantly. Oh, and the only people who know who he is are a tween skater girl whose mother is a junkie in the local gang’s orbit who knew Eric and Shelly and a local good cop, played by Ernie Hudson, who encounters the undead Draven on the job.

You know, it holds up well because it’s a simple movie with practical effects and heavily stylized film making. It’s almost black-and-white ate times (the source comic book was black and white), and even when it’s clearly color it uses chiascurro and darkness to great effect. A heavily Goth aesthetic, but it was 1994.

I have to wonder if it weren’t for The Crow, would there have been a Blade or The Matrix, both of which have a very similar look and industrial soundtrack?

Oh, yeah, and as a reminder: Brandon Lee, who played Eric Draven, died during the production of the film when he was accidentally shot with a prop gun. What would the 1990s have been with him as an action film star?

The film also had Bai Ling, but I just posted a photo of her in 2017. So let’s look at Sofia Shinas, who played Eric’s fiancée. Continue reading “Movie Report: The Crow (1994)” →

You know, I’ve seen ads in newspapers and online notifications for years about Jeff Dunham performances, probably both in St. Louis and Springfield and maybe reviews on the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel Web site back in the day, but I had not actually seen him perform in television appearances or Web snippets before. Which is odd, because I knew something about his ventriloquist act and maybe I’ve seen snippets somewhere. I knew a couple of the dummies and their names, but I know a lot more about them now.

So: It’s a ventriloquist act. He does a couple of non-dummy jokes before getting the first one out of the box. It’s Walter, the curmudgeon, who has an acid tongue and a nasty attitude. We also get to see Bubba J., the hick that looks like Howdy Doody; Peanut, which was Dunham’s first dummy; and José Jalapeño on a Stick. We get some bits where Peanut and José Jalapeño argue a bit. Dunham interacts with the audience and has Walter answer written questions submitted to them by audience members before the show. It’s probably not as much improv as having canned jokes and selecting questions to fit the gags.

Still, the program is almost twenty years old, and one wonders how his act has changed to fit the zeitgeist these days. His humor, although not especially crass, does touch on the differences between the sexes and other more taboo in 2024 subjects. He did not have Achmed the Dead Terrorist in this show, though, so I guess his act has been ever-evolving.

Amusing in a few spots and, to be honest, since it was my first exposure to Dunham (I think), it was more novel to me than, say, Gallagher whom I saw over and over again in the 1980s or any of the members of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour and better than an R-rated comedy from the later half of the first quarter of the 21st century.

If I find another special of his for another fifty cents, I’ll buy it.

I just watched some 1980s-era Stallone films (two of the three Rambo movies I just watched were from the 1980s), and one (meaning I) can forget the heirarchy of the action films of the day. Stallone and Schwarzenneggar were the top; Chuck Norris was no better than a B; and Steven Seagal was kind of a C-level. Just above direct-to-video or direct-to-cable fare. And eventually he would get down to that sort of level. I guess his biggest film, Under Siege, was in the future, but he had a stack of films right at the turn of the 1990s, and I tend to think of On Deadly Ground and Glimmer Man as past the peak. But that’s just me.

So: Seagal plays a DEA deep cover agent who loses a partner on a deal gone bad and he retires or takes some time off and goes home to find a former colleague coaching high school football. Jamaican posses are moving in with their crack and their brutality, displacing the Colombians and their cocaine. Although Seagal tries to stay out of it, he gets involved after a gangland massacre where he catches one of the Jamaicans, and the Jamaicans mark he and his family for death. With the help of a cop on loan from the Jamaican authorities and the football coach, they take down the powerful leader of the posse whom supposedly has strong magic, but the obvious twist is that he has a twin brother that nobody knew about even though he was always around and just out of sight.

So, yeah, it’s what you would expect: Seagal acting stoicly (or not acting maybe), some martial arts, and gun play. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a Seagal film–I’ve seen his 80s work, I saw Under Siege in the theater, and a couple of other things from the 1990s. But I am not a particular fan. And it might be a while before I watch another. Unless I find a boxed set for a buck or something.

Well, after picking these up at an estate sale a couple weeks ago, I thought maybe I would wait until I got a copy of First Blood to watch the series from the beginning, but I did not. I watched them not quite on consecutive nights, but enough to have them very fresh in mind as I moved to the next. I read the novels in 2008 (see First Blood and Rambo: First Blood Part II).

So: In Rambo: First Blood Part II, Colonel Trautman gets Rambo out of prison (for his actions in the first movie) on a covert mission into Vietnam to scout a prison camp that might hold American POWs. He is not to engage the enemy, though–only to confirm the presence of POWs, and a Delta Team will get them out. But while the government official running the op, Murdoch, expected the camp to be empty, the Vietnamese have rotated in prisoners, and Rambo liberates one and brings him to the extraction/exfil point. When Murdoch hears that, he aborts the mission before pickup, leaving Rambo to his fate. Rambo then breaks out with the help of his Vietnamese contact played by Julia Nickson and delivers the POWs of the camp to Murdoch.

The film would have been a scant decade after the end of the war, so it was still pretty fresh in the American zeitgeist (it was the topic of many films and television programs for quite some time). It had a couple of different acts to it and even a bit of depth to it. It’s not just jingoism; parts of the government (maybe all of it) are suspect and have their own agendas contrasting with that of the common man or soldier.

Rambo III, on the other hand–well, it lacks depth. It is a bit more….. jingoistic? It spends too much of its runtime explaining the gallant people of Afghanistan, those plucky guerrillas fighting against the Soviet menace. Trautman finds Rambo living in an ashram after the events of the second movie and stick-fighting for a little extra cash for the monks, and he invites Rambo to join him on an expedition into Afghanistan to find why one sector is particularly good at blocking arms shipments. Rambo demurs, but When Trautman is captured, he reconsiders and basically single-handedly invades a fortress. Well, he does have an Afghan guide and a child warrior for company, and the mujahideen do ride the rescue, but it’s overly simple and more comic-book/action movie than the others.

This film must have come on Showtime fresh right before we moved out of the trailer park, as I’ve seen it several times. But the only things that stuck with me were the opening scene and the cauterizing a wound with gundpowder scene. And my boys have not seen it, they have seen two films which parodied it: Hot Shots! Part Deux and UHF (which includes a parody of it in one of George’s daydreams).

Jeez, though, when you think that in a shorter span of time than the gap between Vietnam and the first (and second) films that the United States would be the target of those “gallant” freedom fighters. Life comes at you pretty fast especially in retrospect.

Rambo (don’t think too hard about the series numbering and naming convention) takes place 20 years later. Rambo is still living in southeast Asia. The Burmese civil war is raging–we get some expository footage to start the film–and a group of Christians is hoping to go up river to deliver medicine and hope to a persecuted Christian village, and they want to hire Rambo and his boat to take them. He demurs, but the woman of the group convinces him to help. So he takes them up river and protects them from pirates on the way. After they disembark, they’re captured by the local warlord who razes the village in the manner of Ghengis Khan. Rambo learns this when another member of their ministry arrives and commissions Rambo to ferry a team of mercenaries up river to find them. And he ends up taking a more active role in the rescue despite the mercenary leader dismissing him as just “the boat guy.”

This film, too, has some depth to it. Rambo is older, a bit more jaded and tired, but he has some attraction to the woman in the group which cannot be returned because she is, apparently, the fiancee of the group leader. And at the end, when they’re safe, she runs to him while Rambo watches from a distance. And Rambo returns to his hometown at the end of the film to reconcile with his father and/or family.

The shots are more dramatic as well–the 80s oranges have been washed out by the darkness of 21st century filmmaking, but Stallone, also the director, put some thought into them. Its effects are more gory than the 80s spot of blood and belly clutching–one online source said it was to maximize the effects budget because fake blood is cheap–but comparing other similar films from across those decades (see also On All The Conan Movies–so far) shows that it’s just how movies are made these days.

One thing to note about the films: They have mostly or all male casts. Rambo: First Blood Part II has the contact in Vietnam; Rambo III has a couple of extras amongst the Afghan tribespeople. Rambo has the woman who is on the missionary team and some extras. Very male dominated films, and I only note it because I know you want to see photos of the pretty actresses in them, and all you get is Julia Nickson. Continue reading “Movie Report: Rambo: First Blood Part II (1985); Rambo III (1988), Rambo (2008)” →

As I mentioned in February, I wanted to pick up a copy of this film when Bob Uecker died because I’d never seen it. Apparently, also, the St. Louis Blues hockey club have picked up a “mascot” named Jobu for their late season push and playoff run which was a voodoo idol from this movie as well. So I had two reasons to watch it, and I was happy to find a videocassette copy of it last weekend.

So: It’s a comedy that tracks kind of with the plot of Bull Durham, almost. The characters anyway. The wife of the man who owned the Cleveland Indians inherits the team when he dies, and she wants the team to move to Miami, so she sets the GM to build a roster from nobodies and has-beens. The veteran catcher, played by Tom Berenger, is a few years past his prime and has bad knees. Charlie Sheen plays a convict who joins the team as a fireball pitcher with control issues caused by poor eyesight. A Cuban power hitter, played by Dennis Haysbert (whom I knew was in the film but did not recognize), offers sacrifices to Jobu. A veteran pitcher relies on foreign substances to continue playing. Corbin Bernsen plays the shortstop whose thoughts are on his investments more than baseball. Wesley Snipes plays an outfielder who is fast but rough. Etc. Rene Russo is Berenger’s former flame in Cleveland, planning to marry a Yuppie (as they were known in those days). The team muddles along, improving, until the GM relates the scheme to the manager who tells the players, which inspires them to make a run for the pennant.

An amusing more than laugh-out-loud comedy. A bit of a product of its time, but not too dated. Worth watching, but I’m not rushing out for the sequels. And note that this is a Tom Berenger movie: his name comes first above the title. Man, he was something in the 1980s and maybe early 1990s, and although he’s been acting continually since, you mostly think this was a Charlie Sheen vehicle, ainna? Corbin Bernsen, the L.A. Law star, is the third on the poster. Not Wesley Snipes, who was not hitting his peak yet.

And, you know, I could have been in the movie. I was in town in the summer of 1988 when they filmed the stadium scenes at Milwaukee County Stadium (I thought it was true, and the scoreboard shots all show television station WTMJ 4 to confirm it). I know that people I knew then went to the stadium and stood in line to sit in the stands while scenes were filmed, but I did not. But I did keep looking in the crowd for people I might have known.

And just saying Milwaukee County Stadium reminds me that I have never been to a baseball stadium that exists today. I’ve been to ball games at Milwaukee County Stadium, but not Miller Park, and I’ve been to games at Busch Stadium (II) but not Busch Stadium (III). It has been a while, and they do change them every couple of decades these days.

After watching Tropic Thunder, I popped this film in on the next night. I kind of have a bit of a goal now, to watch the films I recently bought at an estate sale, because the unwatched films are now overflowing from the top of the video game cabinet and onto the top of the (full) unwatched video cabinet. AND THIS CANNOT STAND.

Also, if you’re keeping track, this is the third time I’ve watched this film: The first, in the theater, maybe, with my beautiful wife (or on videocassette with my beautiful wife). The second, probably rented from the video store not long after I mentioned the film to my wife and she repressed the memory of it. And now, again, since I’ve bought it at an estate sale and want to clear that particular deck.

In it, Steve Oedekirk (more known as a writer) has digitally inserted himself in a 1970s martial arts flick by imposing his head upon the lead actor, and he’s rewritten/redubbed the dialog and has inserted a number of gags, including a brawl with a computer-animated cow. In the plot, he’s a wanderer whose parents were killed by a gang led by Master Pain, and he grows to learn to fight and to seek revenge from Master Pain and to liberate the countryside from the sinister machinations of The Council who is giving Pain the orders behind the scenes. The plot is not important, though, as it only serves to tie the gags together.

Like Tropic Thunder, it’s a bit self-indulgent and only has a couple of really funny moments. But maybe I’m just old and grumpy. Maybe 13-year-old Brian J. would have liked it better.

At any rate, a couple of days later, a couple of things have stuck with me. The main bad guy, Master Pain, and the love interest are dubbed in silly voices. Master Pain sounds like a cartoon character and the love interest sounds like the high parts of Miss Piggy’s voice (without the brass), and she is prone to saying “Wi-oh-wi-oh-wi.” I’ve found myself making those voices when I’m alone. Jeez, Louise, guys, the things I say, the voices I make, and to be honest, sometimes the animal noises I make when I’m alone. I would be frightened for the sanity of anyone else whom I knew did this. But I’m pretty sure I’m sane, ainna?

And now I own this film on DVD, and if history proves a guide to the future, I will likely watch it more than I watch most things I own. I don’t know why I am drawn to these dumb comedies, but I am.

Not to be confused with the 1987 television movie based on the book by Louis L’Amour (or the book itself). Which, to be honest, I did: I knew enough about the title when this film came out that I thought it would have been a bastardization of the book (or television movie). But it’s not: It’s a complete story of its own that uses the same title, perhaps to draw in the people who don’t know better. I knew better, but since I just picked this film up last weekend, I popped it in right away.

So: Sharon Stone plays a woman referred to as Lady who comes into town with a burnt-out marshal’s office and shows immediately that she is not to be trifled with. It’s right before a big, bracket-style quick draw competition run by the man who runs the town played by Gene Hackman. We get introduced to a series of colorful gunfighters including Kid, played by Leonardo di Caprio, and Cort, played by Russell Crowe, and a couple of red shirts who are just there to lose. Kid turns out is actually Hackman’s kid who is constantly berates. Cort was a henchman of Hackman’s who renounced violence and became a preacher.

So, yeah, that’s the story. A bit of Lady’s past is told in flashback: Hackman was responsible for her father, the former marshal’s, death, and she’s come for revenge but is not sure whether she can actually kill him.

I mean, I can see what the director and filmographer are trying to do here. It’s a bit of a throwback to some of the great old westerns as far as filming goes–a lot of closeups and eyes moving back and forth and other stylizations which indicate that Sam Raimi liked Sergio Leone. But: A bracket-based gunfight tournament for a bunch of money (too much really) which Hackman’s character runs every so often to eliminate his competition? C’mon, man. That’s so 1990s.

But it does contain Sharon Stone at the end of her Whoa! years.

Continue reading “Movie Report: The Quick and the Dead (1995)” →

After watching The Man With Two Brains, I thought I would pick up this relatively recent (two springs ago) addition to the Nogglestead media library. A while ago, I started, tastefully (I hope) placing films and television shows atop the to-watch and video game cabinets; most of them have their spines/titles facing up, but at the end, I have a box (from that same trip in April 2023)where the boxes face out, and this film was often at the front, actually facing out. So on my current Steve Martin kick (a well-spaced out binge), I thought I would roll with it.

I read the novella almost 20 years ago (2006), and I summarized its plot there, and I thought it was, not meh, but eh. It works a little better as a movie.

In it, the titular shopgirl sells women’s gloves in an upscale department store in Beverly Hills. Well, she stands behind the glove counter–even then, gloves were an archaic affectation. The filmography really sets up her isolation and loneliness. She is a depressed artist from Vermont who hasn’t really made connections in California. She does meet a slacker at a laundromat, played by Jason Schwartzman, whom she dates and sleeps with because there’s nobody else, and she wants to feel a connection. An older, wealthy guy played by Steve Martin visits LA sometimes and starts a relationship with her. However, they have different ideas of what the relationship is. He thinks it’s more casual, but he develops feelings for her. She thinks it’s more serious. However, events test and then break the relationship, and it ends with a coda where she ends up with the slacker, who has gone on to make something of himself because of what she said to him, and Martin’s character regrets how it turned out. Basically, he kept something of himself from her even though she shared everything of herself, or something.

It’s kind of a downer of a film if you take Martin’s character to be the main character and protagonist, and it stuck with me for a couple of days. Probably because I’m a little older these days, and I could probably be a better husband.

Still, it shows that Steve Martin is a pretty insightful writer and is unafraid to take a chance making films, although unfortunately he has had more success with silly comedies and old intellectual properties.

Well, as I mentioned when I bought the DVD, I was familiar with the Phil Collins song “Against All Odds” from this film (spoiler alert: it’s over the end credits), but I’d never seen the film. Well, now I have.

In it, Jeff Bridges (not to be confused with William Hurt, although they were both that everyman, sensitive hunk in the early 1980s) plays an older wide receiver for the Los Angeles Outlaws who has been playing hurt but gets cut. So an old friend who is now a big bookie in the town–and who has goods on Bridges’ character–asks him to go to Mexico to look for a girl whom he says has stolen money from him. The woman is the daughter of the football team owner, also, which complicates things. Bridges goes to Mexico, finds the girl, and they fall in love and spend time together. He decided he’ll run away with her, but a football coach also under the thrall of the bookie finds them, and bloodshed occurs. Something something, real estate deal, bloodshed, and finis!

A bit slower paced than many things–one can see that they’re working hard on a modern noir, probably hoping to have another Chinatown or something (as in a later, more modern, but now fifty-years-old noir). But it just doesn’t make it. The sunny beaches of Mexico do not have the proper look and feel for it, and it just misses.

Also, I must admit that during a particularly steamy scene set at Chichen Itza, where action jump cut between entwined bodies and the carvings on the walls, that I was looking for an image of the fanged deity, but I guess that was too far south for Chichen Itza (although I could have looked at this tour guide from the same year, 1984, and see if I could spot locations in the guide). But no.

At any rate, James Woods plays the bookie and Rachel Ward, an Englishwoman, plays the girl. Continue reading “Movie Report: Against All Odds (1984)” →

Deadpool, as a character, came at the end of my new comic buying period (that is, I went to college and stopped buying them whenever I came up with a buck and they had new titles at the drugstores as they did in those days). I know, I know; I’ve been known to go to the comic book shop in the last decade and pick up a run or two of Dynamite titles, mostly revamped old properties like Conan or Red Sonja or whatever. Also, he came out in the mutant books, the X-Men and all their spinoffs, and those were not my first choice amongst the new titles–I preferred Spider-Man, Captain America, Wonder-Man, Quasar, and the Avengers over the X-everythings which I found to be too soap-opery.

According to whatever Wikipedia is quoting, the character’s creator says this about Deadpool:

Liefeld spoke on how the character was influenced by Spider-Man: “The simplicity of the mask was my absolute jealousy over Spider-Man and the fact that both of my buddies, [fellow Marvel artists] Erik Larsen and Todd McFarlane, would tell me, ‘I love drawing Spider-Man. You just do an oval and two big eyes. You’re in, you’re out.’ … The Spider-Man I grew up with would make fun of you or punch you in the face and make small cracks. That was the entire intent with Deadpool. … I specifically told Marvel, ‘He’s Spider-Man, except with guns and swords.’ The idea was, he’s a jackass.” Other inspirations were Wolverine and Snake Eyes. Liefeld states: “Wolverine and Spider-Man were the two properties I was competing with at all times. I didn’t have those, I didn’t have access to those. I had to make my own Spider-Man and Wolverine. That’s what Cable and Deadpool were meant to be, my own Spider-Man and my own Wolverine.”

You know, I described him to my beautiful wife the same way: He’s got the wisecracks of Spider-Man, but crass. Also, he’s an anti-hero. He’s definitely of the age that was dawning in the 1990s and in this 21st century.

So the film is his origin story: A thug-for-hire falls in love with a beautiful woman as crazy as he is (played by Morena Baccarin), but learns he has advanced cancer. So he goes to a black market mutant factory where they promise to cure him, but the torturous process, which is actual torture, is designed to stress people to trigger mutagenic change, but the ultimate goal is to create mutants and sell them as slaves or soldiers. Deadpool gets away and then goes hunting for the people who did this to him–made him practically immortal but with scarred to the point that people shun him on the street. They find out who he was and kidnap Marena Baccarin, and a great fight ensues, and Deadpool gets help from Colossus and Negasonic who are familiar with Deadpool whom they want to join the X-forces. Bam, zang, crass, and finis!

I mean, it was all right. I’m growing a little more tolerance for the crass these days, and it did have the comic book movie thing going for it. Apparently the comics also had Deadpool breaking the fourth wall, kind of like She-Hulk in her late 1980s series. Which means it wasn’t as groundbreaking as they might have thought–other comics were doing the Deadpool schticks, but I guess something about this particular character caught on enough that they were making movies about him thirty-some years later. So Marvel has that going for them, which is nice.

My youngest, who watched it with me, was eager to watch the next one if we had it. Oh, but no, gentle reader; when my beautiful wife bought the film for me indirectly for Valentine’s Day, she did not get the second. And one suspects that the latest, Deadpool and Wolverine, might not make an appearance on physical media at all.

And although the film does feature Morena Baccarin who is, what, fifteen years older than she was in Firefly when this film came out? You would have to probably draw a variety of charts and tables with lots of science in them to prove it to me–even though it has Morena Baccarin in it, it is also the first film I’ve seen with Gina Carano in it. So Gina Carano it is. Continue reading “Movie Report: Deadpool (2016)” →

It’s funny: I have several Steve Martin movies atop my fresh media cabinet, including The Pink Panther, Bringing Down The House, The Shop Girl, and probably a couple of others (although not The Out-of-Towners which I watched late last year), but I passed over them for this film early in his ouevre which I just bought with my Valentine’s Day gift card.

In it, Steve Martin plays a neurosurgeon, the best in the world, who has recently lost his wife. As he is driving, he hits a cruel golddigger, played by Kathleen Turner, who has just given her current husband a heart attack, but he has written her out of his will. Martin’s neurosurgeon, Dr. Hfuhruhurr, performs emergency surgery on her and saves her life and falls for her–and she gets her hooks into him, denying him his marital due, and is on the verge of leaving him during a European trip until she learns he stands to inherit fifty million dollars. Dr. Hfuhruhurr learns her true nature and becomes sympatico with the brain of a young victim of The Elevator Killer, a serial killer stalking the streets or elevators of Vienna. So it becomes a wacky love triangle, and Dr. Hfuhruhurr tries to figure out how he can be with the brain of the woman he loves.

So, yeah, it’s a bit odd, but it’s full of Steve Martin’s type of humor which is dry and absurd, but not especially slapstick. I think his best work comes in his original films, like this and Dead Men Wear Plaid and Bowfinger rather than the other things where he does remakes or reboots. Of course, I haven’t seen The Pink Panther yet, so maybe it will wow me.

I’m thinking about actually going back to Vintage Stock to look for Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid and The Jerk–they would have come out about the beginning of the home video revolution, so they should be available in DVD or VHS (Vintage Stock is not vintage enough to stock VHS–but maybe I could find them at antique malls for a buck or so). So let that be your endorsement: I’m tempted to pay more than a buck on other works by the same actor based on the viewing of this movie.

Although the other films won’t have Kathleen Turner in them. Continue reading “Movie Report: The Man With Two Brains (1983)” →