Saturday, May 31, 2014

This One Time At Theater Camp...

Oh, hey.  I'm totally counting the Phantom of the Opera as a movie monster so this tangentially related to May Monster Madness hosted by the lovely and talented Annie Walls!  Be sure to vote for your favorite May Monster Madness post, here!



So, I heard about Stage Fright a while back and I thought, "Hmm.  A slasher musical.  It's been done but I'm totally down with that.  Let's take a look-see and maybe I'll be entertained for a couple of hours."

I need to stop thinking these things because, invariably, I am so incredibly fucking wrong.  What I NEED to be thinking is "How will a goddamn slasher musical irritate the fuck out of me enough to make it blog fodder?"






Ow.  Ow.  Ow.  Ow.  Ow.

Our story begins with a horrific version of "The Haunting of the Theater."  Seriously?  You couldn't use even the NAME "The Phantom of the Opera"?  It's not even copyrighted.  It's public domain.  Yeah, you would have to pay the rights for the Andrew Lloyd Webber score so you'd have to change the music but, fuck, seriously?

Minnie Driver, what have you done?  WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?

So, in classic slasher style, a murder happens a decade ago and this starts a delayed chain of events that end up with horrific... deaths... and... Yeah, no, the deaths aren't that horrific.  In fact if you want horrific, check out the music in this bitch.  HIRE REAL MUSICIANS!  Jesus.  The only GOOD song in the whole movie is the first one when the kids get to camp.  Oh, did I mention this takes place at a theater camp?  Because it takes place at a theater camp.  Like that movie Camp.  Only with people that are not actually talented. 

A theater geek gets to learn how to deep-throat.  Not surprising.

So, after that we get drab, dull and lifeless, much like Minnie Driver's current career.  Let's see.  Killer in a mask.  Revenge for dead mommy.  The revival of a play that's supposed to be cursed.  Minnie Driver's kids are the camp cooks and her daughter wants to play the part that fucking killed her.  The camp is in financial straights.  Mealoaf is creepy in that pervy "I wanna touch my dead ex... something... it's never nailed down" sort of way.  A murder victim is found and kids want to go home but Assloaf won't even let them call.  The show must fucking go on.

Time to build the sets, bitches!
SOMEHOW Dickloaf manages to get the same fucking reviewer from the FIRST show to show up to review this one at a fucking THEATER CAMP.  And general craziness ensues highlighting the pretentiousness of every theater geek, ever, and I WAS a theater geek so I know we're all pretentious bitches, it comes with the territory.

And lead girl tarts it up in a faux-kimono because they chose fucking KABUKI...
Let's wrap this one up in a little bow and call it a day.  I didn't like it and you won't either.  The concept of a slasher musical loses all pretense of being interesting the minute you find out that Minnie Driver can't lip sync for shit (that bitch would be tossed off of RuPaul's Drag Race on day one) and Meatloaf... you know... the ACTUAL singer... has lost every shred of any kind of rock and roll edge he ever had and now sounds like a ridiculous church soloist.  He really should have been all "I would do anything for a paycheck, but I won't do that."

You want me to do WHAT?!?

Aside from pointing out all of the obvious horror Easter eggs peppered liberally through the movie, this, I'm sure, was meant to be fun and silly but it's really only as fun as that one fucking slide in the playground that your bare legs stick to on a scorching summer day because the metal is so damn hot it's decided it wants to pan-fry you. "Go down the slide, baby," Mom said.  "It'll be FUN," Mom said.

Nobody likes third-degree shorts burns.

Nobody.






Saturday, May 17, 2014

Kaiju Blue Balls

SO!  Kids.  What shall we talk about today, hmm?  Global warming?  Hmmm... no.  Fracking?  Nope.  Giant monsters that feed on radiation and stomp the fuck out of everything they see until all of humanity is a gooey puddle?

DINGDINGDING!!!






Let me first start this review by saying that I really did enjoy this movie and it was well done and I fully support the fact that real kaiju have curves.  It was well paced. had lots of action and the destruction was well worth the 10 bucks, a bladder-buster and a bucket of popcorn.  Plus I went with friends who scream so it was an enjoyable set of circumstances.

On top of ALL of that, I LOVE this movie because I am a snarky bitch and there is SO much to make fun of.

Take, for instance, this helicopter.  When you see this helicopter, I dare you not to say to the person next to you "Welcome... to Jurassic Park."
We all know that the Kaiju movies are cheesy as fuck and that's why we love them.  It doesn't matter that they spent millions of dollars on it with frame after frame of digital special effects and so many explosions you have to wipe the Bay-kkake off of your face when it's over (Thanks, Dave...), we go to watch giant monsters crush the landscape.  (Speaking of which, I totally need to get a kaiju party going.  That where you make a whole lot of tiny cardboard buildings and all of your friends wear monster suits and destroy them with gleeful abandon while eating Japanese inspired snacks.  It's FUN.  Shut up.  I'm doing it.)

IT MADE THE NOISE!!!

That being said, this movie is CHOCK FUCKING FULL of inaccuracies.  First and fucking foremost, the Honolulu International Airport does NOT have a goddamn monorail.  It's not a large airport.  It doesn't need one.  The only monorail system in Hawaii is at Pearlridge in Aiea and that's because the mall is larger than the airport.  They show a Jackson's chameleon in Hawaii, too.  I was going to bitch about that but it appears that the species was introduced to Hawaii in the 70s to get a breeding population for the pet trade.  Probably just included to look cool, though.  The science is so bad in this movie it made me want to punch the screenwriter in the dick.

Well, they can't really read a geiger counter wrong if it says "0.00" but some idiot could have forgotten the batteries.
And, seriously... who finds a MILE LONG FOSSIL and doesn't report that shit to the news?  I get not wanting to alarm the populace about the ones that are, you know, actually smooshing people, but doesn't that count as a significant find?  Come on, now.  You people aren't even trying.

As for the actors, well, Bryan Cranston is awesome as Paranoid Scientist Man but then we have to deal with mopey Japanese dude, slightly less mopey assistant to mopey Japanese dude, Military officer who thinks he knows what's best for everybody and is planning on setting off nuclear weapons with no apparent outside orders, Ford (Paranoid Scientist Man's kid) played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson who appears to be filling the role of Channing Tatum's special needs little brother who wouldn't be able to keep a promise to his kid to save his life.  Even Elizabeth Olson, the only Olson sister worth a damn, seems to have been cast for the sole purpose of quivering her lip at the slightest provocation.

You can't see her lip but Winter Olympians want to jump off of it.
On the bright side, though.  GIANT MONSTERS DESTROYING CITIES!  EEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Except, we have to wait until almost the whole movie is done before we get to see that.  Yeah, we see Muto who is our new version of Rodan (although, if you look, Mothra makes a kinda-cameo) and Mommy-Muto who is his much larger, pregnant, counterpart throughout a lot of the film but Godzilla is only glimpsed in pieces until about 2/3rds of the film.

And this is where the blue balls set in.
But when it starts?  It's on, bitches.  It's... Muthafuckin'.  ON!

Say AHHHHH.
So, yeah.  It's an AWESOME movie.  From the beginning moments of pathos to the State Farm commercial at the end where they basically deny claims for everybody because they don't cover acts of Godzilla (That doesn't actually happen... there is no commercial.  I lied to you.) and Godzilla gingerly strides through the wreckage to his slumber in the sea saying "SCUSE ME.  PARDON ME.  I'M NOT DELIBERATELY STEPPIN' ON NOTHIN'.  OOPS!  I'LL PAY FOR THAT.  GOTTA GO.  BYEEEEEEEE!!" 

Go see it.  Be prepared to facepalm a LOT, though, and bring friends with which to share the gift of snark.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

She just goes a little mad sometimes.

You know, I was GOING to do this whole big long post about Psycho and its lasting effect on the horror genre for Mother's day but then it occurred to me...

I'm lazy and this is played out.

So what I'm going to do instead is send you back to some previous posts for retro-realness that you can share with dear, old Mumsy.


First, of course, we have Carrie and either of the remakes.  Dirtypillows, indeed, there, lady.

Mama, with it's jerky-marrionette spirit of vengeance.

Baby Blues, a tale of post-natal depression gone horrible.

Rosemary's Baby, one of the few in this list where the mother in question isn't a psychopath.

Mum and Dad.  One of my favorites of the British video nasties.

Mother's Day.  Natch.

The Girl Next Door.  Foster moms need love, too.

Proxy.  Yeah, I don't recommend it but I can't actually stop you from watching it, now, can I?

And a related Tropefest post:  Hagsploitation, an aging actress' best friend.


Enjoy your Mother's Day, kids!!  Hug your mom.  Hold her tight.  Never let her go. 

Because leaving her arms free lets her grab a weapon.

Friday, May 9, 2014

Mommy Loves You. Now Suffer.

You know, it occurs to me that modern film critics (I'm looking at YOU, Cheryl Eddy from the SF Bay Guardian) toss around buzzwords like they're a friggin' buzzword piƱata and their audience is the lucky kid with the stick.

I got news for ya.  When you refer to a movie as "Hitchcockian", lady, you better fuckin' mean it.

That brings us to the abysmally offensive single-serving of Canadian bland I bring forth for you today, Proxy.


So, either Zack Parker hates children, hates women, hates mothers, hates lesbians or hates ineffective father-figures.  Seriously, dude, you can't hate everybody.  It's just not possible.  I have a feeling that he's just trying to mask some major issues he's got with society as a whole in the name of art.  And when you give me this much misogyny, homophobia and mommy and/or daddy issues in one 2-hour slow-burn of an art-house wreck, 10 minutes of it in ultra-slow-motion, it's really not hard to believe that.

You know what?  I'm gonna spoil the FUCK out of this one because I hate it that much.  Screw you and your pseudo-DePalma bullshit.

Beige.  Fucking beige.
See her?  Up there?  She doesn't want to be pregnant.  It shows.  A lot.  She gets attacked outside her OB-GYNs office in a particularly nasty fashion that involves a brick being slammed against her obvious prosthetic of a pregnant belly repeatedly.

Awww... I'm shy and quirky and you tried to be my friend.  Sucker.
See the blonde soccer-mom on the right?  She goes to 12-step groups for grieving parents.  You THINK she lost her husband and child in a car accident.  Guess what kids.  The movie's called Proxy for a fucking reason.  I'll get into that later.

She a stone-cold bitch, yo.

Oh.  Yeah.  I.  Feel.  So.  Dirty.  Unh.
And here's Little Miss "I didn't want to be pregnant" getting boned by two guys in a bar bathroom.  'Cause she CLASSY.  Oh, did I not mention that she has issues?  'Cause she has issues.  About two Barnes-and-Nobles-worth.  With a brisk trade in collectibles.

ANGRY LADY!
Enter the raging bitch, control-freak, parolee who just HAPPENS to carry a strap-on with her whenever she pops over for a quick rape session with her girlfriend... our friend, Little Miss "Get it out of me".  Oh, I didn't mention that Abort-o-tron was a lesbian?  Because she is.  Kind of.  I mean there IS that whole bathroom sex thing to consider.  Oh, and, hey.  When I say she really didn't want to be pregnant, she really didn't.  Well, OK, she wanted to be pregnant but just because it made her feel important.  She didn't actually want to be a mother.  So she had Rapey McEx-Con attack her in an alley and make it look like a freak thing.

WHO DOES THAT?!?

So, anyway, back to the story, Perky Blonde O'Perky-Britches has a secret of her own.  I said you THINK she lost her husband and kid.  She didn't.  She's got them both playing to her own imaginary tune.  Because, guess what?  Much like the other Crazy Lady, she gets off on the attention that "losing her family" brings her.  Again, I'll touch more on this later.

So, anyhoo, Crazy Lady number 1 gets a crush on Crazy Lady number 2 because they have that weird "look at me, I'm special and crazy" thing going on and Crazy Lady number 3 gets a hair up her ass about said crush and then immediately goes to prison for something unseen.  1 steals 3's truck while she's in the hoosegow and goes to 2's house where she immediately drowns 2's kid and then gets shot a bunch of times by Soon-to-be-Distraught Father.

Yeah.  There's some acting.
Emotional turmoil ensues.  StbDF does stupid shit, 3 gets out of jail and tracks her truck down at 2's house, busts in and gets her ass shot by 2 while 2 has a delusion of being a best-selling author and having another kid to go bugfuck over.

So... we've got insane women which, while not always a bad thing, in this case was entirely too much.  Not one but TWO "psycho-lesbians/depraved homosexuals".  A planned back-alley, late-term abortion.  A visible body-count of 2 and a half and a whole shitheap of the worst portrayal of a couple of cases of  Munchausen Syndrome/Munchausen-Syndrome-by-Proxy EVER.

***********Insert Braininess Here***********

Munchausen-Syndrome-by-Proxy, for those of you not aware of such a thing, is best described with the image of Eddie Kaspbrak's mom in IT.  A person with this disorder thrives on positive attention and gets it by exaggerating, fabricating or otherwise manipulating events, including inducing psychological, behavioral or physical problems (You do SO have asthma, Eddie!) in those in their care, so that they receive as much of that attention they can stand because they appear to be the selfless adult in this poor child's life.  It has the unique disadvantage for the victims in that medical personnel often enable the abuse and never know it.  Normally this is seen in child abuse or medical neglect cases, having a 6-10% mortality rate in the victims, and it's frequently misunderstood.  Munchausen Syndrome (Factitious Disorder) by itself is an extreme form of hypochondria in which the individual will do the same as the Proxy sufferer but to themselves. 

**************End Braininess**************

Anyway, now that the factoid is out of the way, the only reason I watched this all the way through is because I paid for it.  Zack Parker needs beaten with an oar.  That is all.