Quarantine......Watched!!!

[THE FOLLOWING IS TOTALLY OFF-THE-CUFF, AND WRITTEN IN A SOMEWHAT-EUPHORIC STATE...BEAR WITH ANY SCATTER-SHOT-NESS THAT MAY OCCUR WHILE READING]

Finally, after months of anticipation, excitement, anxiety, trepidation, and incessant writing-about on this here site, I've seen Quarantine.

[This is me right now]


And having written so much about it already on this here site, I've decided to keep my reaction (definitely positive, though with some strong complaints) brief. I figure, I'd rather people see it on their own and form their own opinions, rather than risking the possibility of either reading something I've jotted down and going into the movie with good or bad pre-conceptions. Just go in cold turkey, which is honestly something I wish I could've done. Having previously seen and loved [Rec], I do feel that the prior know-about gathered from [Rec] hindered my enjoyment here, just a smidge.

Of course, I'd imagine tons of y'all don't give a fuck about this movie and/or my thoughts about it, and won't even see it anyway. In that case, why are you even reading this post in the first place? Keep it moving, and save this for the horror-lovers and thrill-seekers out there, por favor?

Need help deciding whether to drop bread on this one or not? How does this sound to you....the first five relentless minutes of 28 Weeks Later, stretched out over a good 75% of a movie, and shot Cloverfield-style. Sounds worthy of your $$$? If so, Quarantine it is.

My grade for Quarantine: B+ (could improve to an A- after further viewings....[Rec], for comparison's sake, is an A+ in my gradebook]. If it were its own film entirely and didn't have an insanely-stellar foreign predecessor to live up to, Quarantine would be one-helluva ride. It still is, nonetheless, though ones with definite flaws. But I'd like to think that it'll make for a great "girlfriend gripping your hand, large auds shouting at the screen" evening at the flickhouse....and, most importantly of all to me, it did [Rec] justice. This could've been an utter shitshow, but the Dowdles and a rather-game cast made it work in the end, despite a few poorly-navigated bumps in the road.

Going to break my reactions into "Yay" and "Nay" categories....first the "Yay"s:

YAY
--by adding a good 13 minutes or so more to Quarantine than is seen in [Rec], the Dowdle Brothers (the filmmakers here) managed to slip in some pretty cool gags and further bodies for the slaughter.
--that being said, Quarantine doesn't follow the exact same playbook as a result. The structure, in terms of how things escalate from bad to worse to we're-fucked is still the same, but much more meat is tossed in to the pot. Including more characters.
--killer dogs? That's what I'm talkin' about! Infected rats used simply for gore's sake? Yes, please!
--dudes stumbling around with bones popping out of their legs? Ditto!
--using the camera to bash somebody's face in, violently and instantaneously? Hell yeah!
--Dania Ramirez, in what should-basically-be-called-underwear....speaks for itself
--pats-pn-back should also be issued to John Erick Dowdle, the director, for executing some very-long-takes all in single shots; or at least, through superb editing, making it seem so
--and in translation, the Dowdles' deserve kudos for keeping the tension and macabre of the story's "what the fuck," disorienting, dialogue-free climax damn-near-close to that of [Rec]....not as amazing, granted, but still quite effective

now, NAY:
--once the blood hits the floor and the shit hits the fans here, the handheld, first-person-POV camerawork becomes way too erratic at times. Put it this way--if Cloverfield made you wanna hurl, Quarantine will in fact induce spewing. This type of camera stuff doesn't bother me, so I was fine. But still....
--...such erratic shots diminished some of the best "money shots," or at least once that coulda, and shoulda, been. Mangled remains in an elevator, for example, look badass, but the camera's so frantic that your left with merely a rapid glimpse. And further, it becomes tough to tell who's attacking who, and who's eating who at some spots.
--and speaking of that elevator, it does provide some of the film's coolest moments, but still, it left me wondering: If all of the apartment building's power has been terminated, then how in the fuck is the elevator even working? I mean, I'm all about suspension-of-disbelief in horror, but this is quite obvious, and unavoidable to squawk about.
--the cause of the whole shebang is revealed to be slightly-more realistic in nature than what was provided in [Rec]. In the Spanish version, some weird satanic, demonic, borderline-supernatural shit is the cause, which I prefer at the end of the day to what's offered in Quarantine. The Quarantine explanation is still cool enough, but not as coolio.
--my favorite shot in [Rec], when our lead, Angela, looks down a staircase (to say more would be to spoil hugely, so I'll stay mum as to what she sees), is handled quite poorly in Quarantine. It's there, still, but sort of an afterthought amidst the amplified mayhem staged by those Dowdles.
--and in the middle of [Rec], there's a well-placed bit of calming-down, where Angela interviews some of the building's residents, spoon-feeding some necessary character personalities and backstories. In Quarantine, this lasts about a minute-and-a-half, then is quickly interuppted by insanity. Clearly, the Dowdles intended to make Quarantine a nonstop, can-you-handle-it-all ride, but in doing so, they've sacrificed the audiences' compassion toward anybody but Angela and the main fireman

I'll stop right there. Though it may seem like my "Nay"s outweight the "Yay"s here, don't get it twisted: I really liked Quarantine. Its just a film that holds a dear spot in my blood-pumper, so its only right that I score it a bit tougher than others. Adding to that, however, I definitely plan on seeing it a couple more times, even. It certainly shits on about 97% of the horror flicks made here in America, and I do appreciate how it sticks to its R-rated guns and doesn't shy away from going "there."



And considering that our only other legit Halloween/genre option this October is that fuckin' Saw V, which I'm going to boycott and not see (enough is enough, already....I'll save further Saw hate for a future post), I really do hope that Quarantine is seen by tons and makes some serious scratch.

I can sleep easier, now. All of that pre-release-hoopla is over. I left the cinema happy. Not ecstatic, but quite pleased. I really want to see how Quarantine plays to a packed, weekend-night crowd...the screening I saw was a "courtesy" press one, so it was full of tighly-wound, holier-than-thou film critics, who avoid any sense of enjoyment simply out of dubious entitlement.

Lames.

Best. Video. Of. The. Year.

Remember this dude from The White Rapper Show?

He's still at it, and thank our lucky stars for that. This video is untouchable.

Watch it, right now.

John Brown - "Sarah Palin"

Guilty Pleasure Time

Yes, I really love this song. Wanna fight about it??



Not to mention, Katy Perry is a ten in my eyes--it's that combo of sex appeal, goofiness, humor, and a slammin' bod.

More Life & Times of Tim Goodness....

Tim is that dude...I can't get enough of this show.

Enjoy, and I suggest everybody makes Sunday nights at 11pm a weekly hangout session with Mr. Tim:

Tim tries for a movie night:


Tim gets invited to a bachelor party:

In Preparation For Possible Quarantine-Inspired Hate And Jeers.....

I've been thinking....my hype-machine-work of this Friday's horror flick Quarantine will ultimately spell more "doom" than "big-ups" for yours truly. And I'm totally fine with this. One of the running themes between friends and myself has been the whole "that movie sucked, Matt" jabbing, as if just because I've said that I like a film, or that I think it looks cool, that permits any-and-everybody to come down on me if the movie doesn't know their socks off.

It's funny to me, of course, and doesn't piss me off. Just preconditions me a bit, especially now in the specialized Quarantine case.



In an effort to admonish myself of all impending pies-to-face, I've decided to just put it all out there, before the movie even comes out....sort of how B-Rabbit did during that final battle sequence in 8 Mile....throwing all of the haters' ammo right back at them before they themselves have an opportunity to use it.

Here goes:

1) I already realize that Quarantine won't top the box office this weekend. Not that I think it should or even needs to. Strong box office, of course, doesn't equal actual film quality. Just look at last weekend's number one--Beverly Hills Chihuahua. Sure, Chihuahua is probably shamefully fun, but a good cinematic endeavor? Highly doubtful....Plus, there's that Russell Crowe/Leo DiCaprio/Ridley Scott CIA-happy thriller Body of Lies opening on Friday, and I'd be willing to place duckets down on it opening Numero Uno. It actually looks good, too, so I'm not mad at it. And it'll most likely be followed by that damn Chihuahua, who'll bark up some substantial second-week figures. Then, there's the wild cards of City of Ember and The Express, both flicks catering to two specific demos, and could sneak in and cake up nicely. All this goes to say that, Quarantine is far from a surefire triumph. But I don't think the budget is very tall, so it should still be successful, even if only modestly.

2) This one's most crucial to realize....Quarantine is a quintessential Matt Barone film. Meaning, this is the exact kinda film I get excited about, and see on opening day, and (assuming it doesn't suck) go back and see a few more times before copping on DVD and re-watching specific scenes to endless degrees. I've had people consistently hitting me on some "You seen the commercials for that Quarantine shit? As soon as I saw it, I thought of you. Seems like some shit you'd love." And that's spot-on analysis.

So, my friends and whoever reads this, only see Quarantine if you share even the slightest shred of dark-appreciation. I promise y'all: the movie that Quarantine is an Americanized version of, Spain's [Rec], is undeniably amazing. So my excitement for this one is solely based around the potential that a bigger-budget and longer-running-time presents to [Rec]. And if Quarantine ends up being shit, I'll always have [Rec] to love, and to show on DVD to friends eventually, just to prove that I wasn't buggin'.

3) It's going to take a catastrophic failure in the scope of The Love Guru for me to actually dislike Quarantine. I can admit this, openly. What can I say--I'm a total sucker for zombie movies. Though, this isn't exactly a "zombie" movie, but it has all of the essential elements that I love: multiple monster-ish, flesh-eating villains; people trapped inside a claustrophobic space while under relentless siege. Toss in the whole handheld camera asthetic (something about the whole Blair Witch, Cloverfield approach really registers for me), and such hotties as Jennifer Carpenter and Dania Ramirez, not to mention actors I typically find charismatic (Columbus Short and Jay Hernandez), and Quarantine seems to have all the potent ingredients for my viewing pleasure.

In closing, I offer this: I really don't give a fuck if people love or hate Quarantine. It's not going to be a film for everybody; just one for folks such as myself. And its the rare "remake" that I actually cosign, only for the notion that, at the least, it'll bring [Rec] to the attention of Americans who'd otherwise never even know it exists.

Your opinions of the film may be whatever to me, but do understand--if I end up feeling hatred, or even indifference, toward the flick, my face shall mirror this character's for a good week, maybe even a month, 'til the sting washes away:



Won't be a pretty sight.

Presidential Debate, Numero Dos

Just some quick opinionated hits about the political discourse that was just afoot on my HD boob-tube....

Obama won, again, though this wasn't a wide-open, blowout of a victory. He just handled himself with much more cool, articulated his responses more clearly and effectively, and slickly masked his disdain for McCain, challenging some of the elder Senator's views but not in a condescending, attacking way.

McCain, on the other hand, didn't hide his boiling-dislike of his opponent at all. I think if McCain had a freebie, he'd slug Obama with all of his arthritic and aged-joint might. And kudos to Johnny Boy for actually making some eye contact with Obama this time, even though he was clearly instructed to do so by his handlers. If he had his way, he wouldn't even shake Obama's hand as they walk onto the stage. He'd flip him the bird, I'd imagine.

Plus, McCain seriously sounds like a broken record, regurgitating the same slogans and phrases every single time he opens his mouth. "Reach across the aisle...."....."earmarks"...."get rid of chrony-ism"....etc, etc, etc

Obama does a better job directly explaining to the public what exactly he'll do, broken-down idea for broken-down idea....McCain mostly issues broad schemes and shit that sidesteps specifics, and I, for one, want to actually comprehend the plan, not just be "impressed" with the "smart" talk. Nice try, Johnny M.

Actually, on second thought, Obama did a better job attempting to simplify this bailout package issue. Honestly, I still don't have a real fucking clue as to what it'll do for me, personally. But I appreciate Obama's efforts. McCain didn't say shit about shit, about shit.

And how about McCain referring to Obama as "that one" at one point, pointing at his opponent without even looking in his direction? Pretty damn snarky, snooty. Asshole-ish. McCain probably thought it would come across as sly and muscular; in fact, it came off as a frustrated remark made by a sad, miserable, looking-defeat-in-brighter-lights-than-ever-before geezer, who shakes like a maraca as he speaks. But, I'll give him a senior citizen discount from dissing, tonight. His demeanor has to be quite flimsy as I type, already.

But again, Obama won this debate by a slimmer margin than the first. I can't see this debate swaying anybody's current stance(s), not one bit. McCain will still trail Obama considerably in a couple days, and hopefully more and more as November approaches.

Yes, we can....? Can we, really? Yes? Please, let's.

Rachel Getting Married = Bring the (Pristine) Pain

Gearing up for the debates tonight, so I'm going to keep this one brief.

Just saw a great, great little movie called Rachel Getting Married....well, it's not exactly "little" if you pay avid attention to entertainment press, such as myself. It's been a big talking subject as of late, and now that I've seen it, I can see why.



Genuinely touching, small in scale yet huge in scope. Pitch-perfect acting jobs, richly-scribed characters and exposition. It's one of those subtle cinematic gems that cland with a quiet thud, but once inhabited, smack your inner strings with jackhammer-like force.

I'll admit it....I got somewhat choked-up a few times while watching. Not teary-eyed or anything, so don't go crying "wussy," but just felt my heart tug a bit, mainly at the hands of a stellar performance by Anne Hathaway, as the film's lead: a recovering drug addict, who's the black sheep of an otherwise functional, loving family; she's come back home for a weekend to attend her older sister's wedding, reuniting with her estranged family who love her deepy and support her tremendously, yet she constantly combats them, to her own doing and fault, and tirelessly feels remorse over an accident that happened years ago while she was drugged up, which resulted in the death of her little brother.

Jonathan Demme, the great veteran filmmaker (who will always be "the man" in my eyes for Silence of the Lambs, chief amongst other quality flicks under his belt), opts to shoot this film with a DV-ish camera, meaning that the image is given a realistic, almost-documentary feel. And aside from Hathaway and Debra Winger (who plays Hathaway's emotionally-distant, divorced mother), the cast is pretty much all new faces and relative-unknowns, which lends the film a mood of "I'm merely a fly on the wall amidst this real-life, unfabricated domestic and familial drama." It plays like spades.

Rosemarie Dewitt, who plays the titular sister Rachel, is also pretty dynamite, it should be noted. But really, this ish belongs to Anne Hathaway, who proves that she's one-fucking-hell-of-an actress, showing depths of her skill-bank previously unseen and, truthfully, never ever anticipated. The scene where she awkwardly addresses the rehearsal dinner crowd with a misfired "making amends with Rachel" speech is at the same time painful to watch and endearing to experience. Same goes for a firecracker of a moment when Kym (Hathaway's character) confronts her mother after a heated exchange with Rachel--hoping to seek comfort in mother's home, Kym daringly asks her mother: "How could you leave him in my care?" Or something along those lines, that's a paraphrase job. But she's asking, "I was a fucking junkie, out of my head at all times....how the hell could you leave your little son under my supervision?" The way that Winger reacts comes full-force, out of nowhere. Hits harder than concrete.

Rachel Getting Married is simply put, a superb film. And I hate using the word 'superb,' feels like such a cliche one that critics overuse while lauding, but it really does apply here, so use it I shall. And just did, actually.

Granted, I've yet to see the impending flood of awards-season flicks on the way, but I'll be shocked if Hathaway doesn't make the "M.B Oscar Selections" list come next January. So what if that list is meaningless in the walls of Tinseltown? One day, if all goes well, it damn sure will.

That's the world I want to live in.

**And now, for no other reason besides pure gratuity, a va-va-voom-y Anne Hathway shot...even with her cracked-out look in Rachel, she's a scorcher in my book. Burnt page-tips and all.

Since When Did SNL Get Funny Again?

I don't know....I've been hearing about how lame Saturday Night Live has become in recent years, and before this past Saturday evening, I agreed mostly...the few skits I'd watched did indeed blow.

But, as a result of a lazy I-want-to-stay-in-and-save-money-rather-than-wasting-dollars-on-alcohol decision-making process, I watched the majority of SNL's latest episode, and kinda enjoyed it. Though, I do have an unexplainable crush on Anne Hathaway, who hosted, so that could've helped.

But, Kristen Wiig's "baby hands/slow" singing character in that "Lawrence Welk Show" skit was pretty damn funny, and Tina Fey-as-Sarah Palin is so spot-on that it's becoming more eerie than laugh-y, but still more than laugh-y enough.

And then there's this amazing shit right here....."Marky Mark and the Donkey Bunch." Andy Samberg gets Wahlberg's delivery and cadence down cold. Shit has me LOLing still, check it:



The secret to this skit's success: unlike damn near every other skit that SNL does, this one is short and sweet. Doesn't blow it in the end, and doesn't overstay its welcome. At all. Finally, the writers seemed to have gotten timing-and-pacing issues right.

So, should I start DVRing SNL, once I actually get DVR? I think so, because Lord knows, once I'm over this whole "staying in on weekends" kick, my ass will be sippin' it up on Saturday nights. Not confining myself indoors to watch something that'll only potentially have me chuckling.

I'd rather laugh at dudes striking out while trying to bag ladies at the bar. Makes me feel better about myself, what can I say? Not that I necessarily even bother trying to bag ladies at bars, but I'm just saying....

Post-Game Thoughts About Religulous

Some facts about myself that should precede this here entry: my entire academic career was spent moving on-up through a Catholic school system, from Pre-K all the way through graduation day of college. Raised Catholic at home. Attended church every Sunday afternoon for the first 15 or so years of my life. Celebrate all of the major Catholic holidays yearly. Christmas, Easter. The works.



I say all of this to simply illustrate the sense of hypocrisy I'm feeling at the moment, after having seen Bill Maher's provocative comical-yet-scarily-true documentary Religulous. Why the hypocrisy? Because, well, I agree with everything Maher says, questions, and proposes in the film, and I know that I've held these feelings mostly inside for the last 10 or so years. The reasons being, my extended family and some friends strongly believe in Catholicism, so I withheld my personal doubts out of both respect and a reluctance to spark heated debates of which I wouldn't have felt comfortable engaging in. Until now. Using this Religulous flick as a powerful piece of defensive evidence.

Of course, this film is basically preaching to its already-doubtful choir, and is rather one-sided in its approach. Pretty much, Maher arranges interviews with religious heads of all types, and politicians with strong religion-based stances, and other spiritually-minded talking heads. And then, once sitting down with them, those unaware of Maher's brand of controversial humor are sucker-punched by his straightforward, dry-humor-filled questionining of their faith and beliefs. Which he wisely and effectively backs up using facts and quick knowledge-spitting and logical questions.

Which is to say, this isn't a film that strongly-religious folks will particuarly enjoy, or will watch and feel compelled to change their views and beliefs. But if you feel the way Maher feels, which I certainly do myself, its an eye-opening and entertaining piece of piss-off-the-masses art. And, at the least, should be seen by everybody, if not for any other reason than igniting debate and discussion on the mostly-overlooked, or better put "mostly-avoided," topic of religion. As Maher himself said in an interview recently, religion has forever been the "huge elephant in the room." A subject that is always on people's mind, but is taboo in terms of open back-and-forth banter between friends and/or associates.

And one thing this film makes abundantly clear is this: way-too-many of those who consider themselves to be "devout followers" of their respective religions really know jack-shit about the teachings and "facts." They can't cite specific Bible examples, and consistently get the facts wrong. Interesting, to say the least.

But Religulous has opened the flood gates, so to speak. At least in my thought-patterned rivers and lakes. Maybe it's a result of having religious beliefs jammed down my throat since I was a little kid, but I've long questioned the matter. Like, how can God tell us that he loves everybody in one breath, but then condemn gay people in his next? Or, if one of the Beautitudes says "Blessed are the meek," then why do churches have money-collections during mass, making those who can't contribute much feel guilty after ignoring the basket as those seated alongside them donate bills? Why not just leave the basket in an adjacent room for those who want to contribute to drop in dollars at their own discretion?

As far as the "gay people" sentiment, Maher raises it in the film to effective measure, but some of the other points he makes here are what really opened my eyes a bit, presenting notions that for whatever reason I'd neglected to ponder ever before. Such as....why do Catholics adhere to the Ten Commandments when the commandments are simply out-of-date laws erected in the Bronze Age, totally missing out on such modern0-day ills as child abuse, and rape? Why do Catholics follow such a tired and out-of-touch law system?....and another: if Muslims believe in the freedom of speech, then why do they attack and condemn those who speak freely against their beliefs? Hypocritical, huh? Larry Charles, the film's director (same brilliant dude who directed Borat, as well as maintains heavy influence over Curb Your Enthusiasm) and Maher then discuss a late filmmaker named Theo Van Gogh, who made an anti-Muslim short film called The Submission, only to then be murdered by Muslims after its release. Pretty shocking shit.

Religulous may be seen in the public eye as a biased attack on Catholicism, but what I really appreciated about the film is that it roasts all religions---Islamic, Jewish, Mormons, Catholics, etc. Maher has a broader agenda in mind, which is to basically call-out religion as a whole idea, a widespread concept. And, no matter which your heart believes in and your faith resides in, he feels that they're all based around endless made-up fairy tales. The Bible, as he sees it, is a collection of fictional stories, designed to give readers hope while existing without any actual proof of being legit news-reporting, or firsthand accounting.

And frankly, I agree with him on this. I mean, are we really supposed to believe that a talking snake did Adam and Eve dirty? A talking snake? Or that Jonah lived for three days inside a "giant fish," or what we see as a whale now? These are tales that would, if not printed in the Bible, fit perfectly within children's lieterature, or celebrated folklore. I have as big an imagination as anyone, but even i can't fully believe that these things actually happened.

And neither Maher nor myself question the importance of faith, and how powerful believing in something can be for a person. Like, many people have used their faith to carry them through tragedies, and tough times, and in this sense, faith is wholly important. But so many people actually think that these religious tales really went down, and so passionately believing in such yarns sort of defies intelligence, really.

But, just watch the people who inhabit the Jerusalem Experience "amusement park" that Maher visits in the flick. It's basically a giant historical re-enactment park, complete with a Catholic-souvenir-stuffed gift shop, and a live-action reprisal of the Crucifixion. Maher interviews the dude who considers himself to be Jesus as the park, right after his cell phone rings, of course. The whole park just feels so commercialized, and phony, and fugazi. Like, is this what The Bible's Jesus really would've wanted? A theme park where his teachings and likeness are basically pimped out for consumer needs? Yet, the people who run this place really consider themselves to be powerful, meaningful, Lord-serving followers. Really, though?



Religulous offers several intriguing exhibits as to why these stories are "clearly" fiction. Not going to list them all here, but here's one highlight: the Hindu god Krishna, the Egyptian god Horus, and the Iranian figure Mithra all share the same biographical stats as Jesus (born on December 25th; died and was resurrected, etc), and they all--or at least Krishna, I can't recall about the other two--date further back than Jesus does. Which begs the question: couldn't the authors of the New Testament have just read the stories of Krishna and/or Mithra and nipped-and-tucked narratively to conjur up Jesus' bio? It's worth examining now, I feel.

Another moment that rang bells in my head, for whatever reason....while chatting with a doctor, Maher and the doc bring up an interesting point---if one of the key elements to diagnosing somebody as "crazy" is when the person hears voices in their head, then why is it so touchy to consider those who "hear God's voice" as crazy, too? Maher consider religion a "neurological disorder," so such a feeling makes sense for his sensibilties. But it definitely has me thinking...

In the end, though, this is still a comedy. Charles slickly mixes in archival film clips to punctuate jokes and "laugh here" moments, a tactic that at times feels a bit cheap but mostly works. My favorite....after one God-fearing loon says somethigng that totally defies logic yet is meant to justify his religious beliefs (I can't recall what he says exactly, sadly), Charles cuts quickly to some old movie where Jesus gets slapped in the face. Sort of a Homer Simpson-esque "Dohh!" touch.

Just like he does on his great HBO show, Real Time with Bill Maher, our host concludes the film with one his "closing thought" testimonials. Here, in the end-game tirade heard in the film, he really served me some tantalizing food-for-thought. Its a speech-of-sorts centered on war, and how religion is largely responsible for it. It's a really "oh shit, wow" lesson, at least so to me....basically, if the Bible and relgions' beliefs speak of "the end of days" coming, and how God will resurface after our world is ended in some sort of fire-and-brimstone apocalypse, than why would our societies even bother trying to better our world? When the feeling is that, in order for believers to reach their true salvation and to meet their Lord and "savior," this world as we know it must perish.

Therefore, religion breeds war, or ar least does absolutely nothing to stop death and destruction. In a way, talks of a mandatory "end of days" promotes death and destruction, doesn't it? People pray to God, but hear no tangible concrete voice back, so this allows living/breathing/self-serving people to add in their own vocal chord-powers. People such as evangelists, or tyrants, or politicians, or cult leaders. Think about it.



Though, for the sake of fair and double-sided discussion, it must be noted that Maher really only talks to extreme examples of religious believers. Maybe one or two "normal" followers, here and there, spectators in crowds. But damn near all of his interview subjects are people who go to extreme lengths for their faith, which makes the susceptible to such ridicule and scrutiny...Again, Maher isn't necessarily fighting a fair battle here. But if you tend to side with him, as I do, it's easy to get swept in his rallying-cries.

Again, I'm not attacking anybody who strongly believes in their respective religion. I'm just saying...I've long doubted the ideals of mine, and I'll continue to do so for years to come. I'm not totally breaking free from mine, but I'll now take it with large grains of salt. When it comes time to marry, or raise my children, I'll surely follow Catholic practices, still.

Does this make me the ultimate liar, or hyporcrite? Maybe so. But then, I'm a walking contradiction anyway. So why stop now???

One to grow on.

Dr. Satan, the Kid-Friendly Version

This one's for fans of Rob Zombie's House of 1,000 Corpses, a faction of followers that includes yours truly, of course.

Take the audio track from House of 1,000 Corpses' trailer, then add in some Follow That Bird (Bird was the first movie I ever saw in a theater, so it holds a special place) footage and additional vintage puppetry, and you get.....

House of 1,000 Muppets



Hope you like what you saw!!

Netflix Fix -- Who Can Kill A Child?

Its such a lame, overused, bordering-on-"trite" saying, but, in terms of cinema, I'm really starting to believe it: "They just don't make 'em like they used to." Well, not all cinema; for what I'm speaking of, put your "horror and genre hats" on, and take a walk with me. Or just listen up. No other physical exertion required.



Just finished watching my latest the 'Flix entry, a largely-unknown little gem of a Spanish movie called Who Can Kill A Child?, from 1976. I'd actually never even heard of this one until about a month or so ago, when I came across mentions of it while reading Vinyan press. Vinyan, for those who actually pay attention this here blog (all five of you), is a flick from a Belgium-bred filmmaker, Fabrice Du Welz, who I'm becoming more and more fond of. It's his second project, and should hit limited American screens early in '09, but it looks like pure Matt Barone-serving goodness, of the dark and twisted varieties. Being that it centers heavily on spooky killer kids, Vinyan is said to owe tons to this here film, Who Can Kill A Child? And all of the praise I'd been reading about Narciso Ibáñez Serrador's '76 sleeper, I just had to check it for myself.

And shit, am I glad that I did. This is one of the never-talked-about flicks where I can't comprehend just how it hasn't been heralded in louder fashion by cinephiles and genre press-heads. It kicks ass, and definitely exceeded the mild expectations I'd bestowed upon it. Not even sure why, but I wasn't anticipating this film to fully win my "thumbs up" war, but it did.



Plot-wise, real quick: you have these two English tourists (Tom, and his pregnant wife, Evelyn), who are painted out to be like the sweetest, most loving, most unassuming married pair ever. Genuinely nice, smiling and laughing at every turn. For some strange reason, while on vacation on the coast of Spain, Tom has a bright idea to take a boat out to a remote island known as Almanzora, so they do. Only, once they arrive, shit just doesn't seem kosher....no adults can be seen, in what appears to be a deserted village. But then kids start popping up, speaking extremely little and only giggling and smirking with pure sinister glee. And then adult bodies start turning up. And then the kids being exhibiting some sadistic behavior. And then our couple realizes just how fucked they really are. Nice idea on that additional trip, Tom!

Patience is a virtue I can proudly own up to, and its one that best serves me when watching movies like Who Can Kill A Child? (and. by the way, just how great of a title is that?) Serrador takes his time here, saving the true mayhem for the last 40 or so minutes (film is an hour and 50 mins total). For the first half-hour, very little happens, save for a couple grown-up bodies washing up on shore in TKTK. But our couple of protagonists aren't aware of the soggy bodycount, of course. Once they get to Almanzora, the tension ratchets up nice and slow, with Serrador utilizing some slick tricks: giggling kids in the distance, gory corpses in only the camera's sight and not the unsuspecting couple's, mysterious phone calls to a diner where our couple is eating.

So when the shit really hits the wall, the viewer is nice and tightly-wound with anxiety. And hit the wall the shit surely does here. My two fave moments: a group of happy kids playing pinata with a sharp sickle, striking at a bloodied-up dying old man hanging from a rafter; and a little boy who can't be older than seven years old hiding in a barred-up window, pointing a handgun at the pregant wife's head, smiling as he prepares to fire. Only to have Tom unload a machine gun into the kid's skull, of which we see the bloody head dripping red stuff. And yes, its actually a seven year old actor being shot in the head. Oh, and I can't forget the part where this group of little boys is disrobing a dying young woman, down to her naked body as they feel her up and giggle all the way. Now, that's some shit you'd NEVER see in a Hollywood film. Neva eva eva eva eva eva!!!



And there in lies my excitement, and what I was hinting at earlier. Who Can Kill A Child? was made in a '70s era when filmmaking was a truly dangerous artform. No holds barred. "Fuck the status quo" expressionism. Anything goes. Nothing is taboo. And that made for seriously unbelievable movies. Flicks where shit happens that forces you to ask yourself, "Am I really seeing what I think I just saw?"

The last 15 minutes of this film alone are pure bliss for any sick-minded movie buff. I won't even spoil how the pregnant wife characters meets her maker, but I'll just say that I never saw the twist coming, and once it hit, I was ready to pledge allegiance to writer/director Serrador. And then her vengeance-and-escape-seeking husband goes to work on the legion of homicidal children, only to meet a Night of the Living Dead-esque last scene fate, which is then flipped on its head to further darken the concluding mood. Amazing stuff.

And then there's a sequence where our couple has barricaded themselves in a a jail-cell of sorts, with the kids continually trying to break the door down. But before they start ramming the door, they jump up and down, trying to sneak a peek through the peephole on the upper-portion of the door. And the way the eerie string music mixes with the close-ups of the children's eyes in the peephole is just seriously creepy shit. Chilling, even.

But films like this one just make me realize how fucking pussyfooted and safe Hollywood genre movies are nowadays. And it sucks. Kind of makes me wish I grew up as a teenager in the '70s, so I could've seen these films I'm rather fond of in theaters, the dirty scuzzy rundown cinemas of the "grindhouse" era. Movies were much more dangerous back then. You didn't know what a filmmaker would throw at you, but you knew it wouldn't be pretty. Or happy. Or restricted. Now, studios shake in the boots if a film even blinks at anything higher than a R-rating. Which is just another reason why I'm so in love with international cinema more than Hollywood at the moment. Much ballsier, regardless of what languages are spoken in the process.

The flick makes you wonder: "If pushed to my limit, could I really kill a child?" If it were the evil rugrats seen in this film, my answer would be "hell fuckin' yeah!" These are some demented little bastards. And what works even more for the film is that it uses actual kid actors, doing very fucked-up stuff.



It's pretty amazing just how creepy a smiling kid's face can be, when paired with the right atmosphere and soundtrack, and narrative context.

If you like Children of the Corn, this is like a far superior, smarter, creepier, more naturalistic spin on that story's set-up. And instead of all-black Amish wardrobe, the kids here dress quite normal, making it all the more realistic. There's also a comparison to be made to Nicolas Roeg's great and disturbed "parents in mourning" gem Don't Look Now, but I don't know too many people besides myself who've ever heard of that one, let alone seen it. But its another winner, so do yourselves a favor and give it a whirl some time.

Kids do the darndest things, don't they? Such as, bashing elders' heads in with clubs, shooting police officers at point-blank range, brainwashing fetuses through telepathy.....you know, typical kid shit.

[Excuse any typos that may have appeared, btw....wrote this shit at 2am, kinda tired now, not in the mood to proofread. Fuck all that.]

Goin' To My Happy-Place....

[DISCLAIMER: Those who truly know me know that I pretty much never do the degree of ego-massaging that I'm about to do....so do realize, this is far from narcissistic. If anything, its incredibly therapeutic.]

Sad or not, it's a rarity for me to outright declare, as if I'm atop a mountain, screaming 'til my lungs collapse for all the lands to hear: "I feel damn good about myself these days."

My reason for not voicing such sentiments more often isn't a "woe is me, I'm down on myself" pity party at all, though, so don't go thinking the worst. Well, maybe sometimes it is, but that's not the theme of this here post. Negativity, kick rocks, bitch. I'm just not one to bask in my own accomplishments and/or pride, to my own detriment. Call it "being humble," if you will. Or just personal blindness.

But recently, I've been learning the value of self-worth, and how crucial it is to realize and appreciate the gifts and uniqueness that I flaunt, and offer to those interested in receiving.

Not exactly sure what the exact catalyst has been....and the more I try pinpointing it, I keep going back to kind-of esoteric places, areas of my self-interest-zone that I not-so-long-ago thought were the exact reasons why I've been feeling a disconnect from some friends lately. And probably still are, honestly, re: disconnect causes. But with the bad sometimes, as they say, whoever they are, comes the good, and more and more, my little quirks are becoming increasingly endearing. At least to me, and that's a great place to start, I'd think.

Perpahs the best explanation for this newfound extra-confidence is the fact that I haven't really done shit in the last month or so. In terms of going out to bars/clubs/lounges. Sure, there's been an occasional night here and there, but about a miniscule fraction's worth compared to the months prior. What this sabbatical-of-sorts has done, I'm noticing, is to clear my head and allow admittance for secular vices to join the mental party. As a result, Petron shots have been replaced by literature such as Lehane's Shutter Island and Ketchum's Red, and vodka-tonics have given way to foreign flicks the likes of Irreversible and Calvaire. My energy and efforts once devoted to dating and politicking with the opposite sex have been redirected toward seeking out further films and books I've neglected to experience as of now, in hopes of further cramming my imagination to capacity, so when my own creative ideas and mentally-constructed storyboards etch themselves clearly in my noggin, I'll be armed and ready to fire them into tangible form(s).

I can feel the reunion of Matt and the Drink-fueled Nightlife coming....but now, I'm confident that I'll curb the enthusiasm better than ever before, and limit the debauchery to one night a weekend, saving the other for the continued development of these quirky vices. Sort of like M.B. 2.0. A droid reprogrammed to self-entertain stronger than ever and engage those around me in new and exciting ways.

How I see this....now, I have tons and oodles and bundles of interesting shit to share with those who want to lend an ear or both lobes. I've always been able to discuss secular shit, and I kinda feel like its one of my more charming attributes. But now, I'm overflowing with things and ideas to recommend to friends....now if only I had more friends who'd actually give a shit and would voluntarily seek out the things I encourage.

But "it is what it is," as one of life's most recycled cliches attests to. I'm just happy to know that the esoteric sides of myself that I too-long deemed unattractive and the opposite of appealing now feel cool. As the other sude of the pillow, even.

And that's not something I've ever been able to exclaim before, without a hint of fabricated forcefulness. Can't wait to see what further growth reveals itself in the time to come.....okay, enough with the Stuart Smalley shit here.

**Changing subjects hastily now....is it just me, or does this Lady Gaga chick exude slutty sexiness in that "Just Dance" video?? Turns me on, can't lie....

Quarantine Watch -- Serious Body Count

Not going to say much here, just wanted to point out something about Quarantine that had bizarrely been unknown to me until two days ago.

When the full trailer was first released, I'd noticed that a bunch of new characters had been added to the story, ones previously non-existent in the original Spanish flick, [Rec]. One in particular who caught my eye, for hormonal/perverse reasons, was a fine-looking Latina female sprinting up a staircase as our heroine, Angela Vidal (played by Dexter's Jennifer Carpenter, also sexy in her own "girl next door" right), went down, with the sexier lady yelling, "Go back! Go back!" Had no clue who she was, though, narrative-wise, being that there wasn't any young, smoking-hot gal characters like that in [Rec].

But the first thing that came to mind was: "Damn, this chick looks a helluva lot like Dania Ramirez." Ramirez, an actress who ranks towards the tippy-top of my "Hollywood women I'd love to have on my casting couch" list. Who you'd know from the show Heroes. Or from that shitty Fat Albert movie. Or from her lesbian makeout session with equally-slammin' Kerry Washington in Spike Lee's otherwise-forgettable She Hate Me.


[Yeah, she's fierce]

However, Quarantine's IMDB page never had Dania Barone (okay, I'm dreaming here)...er, Ramirez listed in the cast, so I just figured that the girl in the trailer was a no-name Dania-lookalike. So, I'm in Barnes and Noble this past Friday night, reading through Quarantine's cover story in Fangoria magazine, when--what do you know--Ramirez is quoted and speaks on her character and the difficulties of shooting 10-minute-take shots, without cutting.

Well I'll be damned....she really is in the flick. And then I consult IMDB on my Blackberry, and there her name finally is, listed in Quarantine's cast as some dame named Sadie....as if I needed any more reasons to be excited by this film. Of course, her sweet-ass is as dead as a doornail (right Jacob Marley?), but still. Maybe she'll even make for a sexy zombie-like-creature, too. Okay, that's kinda wrong, I know.


[see, at least Ramirez herself found that last sentiment amusing...we're meant for each other, clearly]

5 days left, my friends.