I must own these. Oh yes, these must be mine.....

Saving the necessary cash up. Placing the necessary special orders at Barnes and Noble, as soon as possible.

Slowly but surely, I think I'm finding my true calling....

Let's hope I'm on the mark.....

"That's the sound of the director giving up and leaving."

A simply amazing episode. Actually had to pause it a few times to catch my breath from laughing so hard.



I always wonder how movies as astonishingly awful as these are actually made (whoa, Matt...alliteration, much?), with earnestness and verve. But then I remember that without them there'd be no MST3K, and then I smile.

So now you know....

Courtesy of: Shock Til You Drop

I have an awfully good feeling about My Bloody Valentine 3D...great gory, sleazy, T&A-heavy, 1980s-throwback times seem to be in place. Plus, I've never experienced the whole "3D glasses in a movie theater" gimmick before, and I can't think of a better way to give it a go than with pick-axes flying at my face and boobies bouncing around. Just makes perfect sense.

I've gotten a sense, however, that too many are unaware that its in fact a remake of a 1981 slasher from Canada, obviously titled My Bloody Valentine. In the canon of low-grade, post-Halloween-and-Friday-the-13th slashers, My Bloody Valentine stands as a better-than-given-credit-for bit of debauch. And what's even cooler is that Lionsgate is re-releasing an uncensored DVD this month, timed with the remake, that includes extended moments of blood and guts previously unseen. Awesome. I will have to buy.

Here's a trailer, spotted over at Shock Til You Drop (as already disclosed), for the original's new DVD treatment. Which should help familiarize those not friendly with it, before you (potentially) see the remake in two weeks.

"Diarrhea, cha cha cha! Diarrhea, cha cha cha!"

...or, "Frogggg! Baaaseballl!"....or, "Are you them kids who've been whackin' it in my camper?"

Back in our earlier Wonder Years, my brother (Wayne Arnold in the flesh) and I (young Kevin, incarnate) meshed like oil and dabs of vinegar. Six years my senior, he played the "insulting, tough guy older brother" role more than well, while I fit the quiet, reserved, insecure younger sibling constantly feeling inferior. It wasn't fun.

But as years went by and the two of us matured, we slowly became closer. Common interests (girls, hip hop) crept into the mix thanks to my becoming a young adult. The fact that I shot up in height and bulk didn't hurt matters either. By age 13, I was taller than he was, the way our stature's have remained to this day.

Looking back on our relationship, though (which is great today, mind you), one of the first equalizers was a certain aniimated MTV program that we both fell in love with: Beavis & Butthead. [Ren & Stimpy was another, but that deserves its own post, which I'll get to at a later date.]



Background about the show isn't necessary here, I'd hope. If you don't know about the once-awesome Beavis & Butthead, I really don't even wanna fucks with you. Even I, a hip hopper since third grade, couldn't help but submit to these two underachieving, disgusting, loser metalheads, who did nothing but watch music videos all day, with occasional trips to school to piss off hippie teacher Van Driessen and gym teacher Buzzcut, or to spit into the french fries at TKTK.

Their out-of-house antics were hilariously-awkward and all, but for my buck, the episodes' main attractions were the video clips, because, similarly to my love of Mystery Science Theater 3000, I'm a fool for fourth-wall-breaking commentary on crappy art.






All week, I've been knee-deep visually in VH1's countdown of the greatest hard rock song ever (even cleverly titled The 100 Greatest Hard Rock Song Ever, I believe). I love me some VH1-programmed countdown/list/pop-culture-nostalgic specials, so it didn't take long for me to lose myself within. Not only has it been great for time-killing entertainment purposes, but the shows have also been free-of-charge educational tools, opening my eyes/ears/mind up to some classic rock 'n' roll I'd only known through either secondhand chatter or Rock Band 2. One of the songs included Winger's "She's Only 17" (title may be wrong, but whatever), a song my brother was a fan of, though he'd probably deny it now (he had it on cassette tape, please believe). And in the Winger segment, they mentioned how the band became an easy joke-target for true hardcore metalheads, a ridicule fest made infamous on the shirt of Beavis and Butthead's nerdy classmate Stewart.



And that's where this Beavis-and-Butthead-riding-shotgun trip down memory lane began. So to show creator Mike Judge, I must say, "Thanks, man." Without Beaver and Butthole (my fellow fans will catch that reference. Or not), who knows.....perhaps my brother and I would've existed under heaps of friction for some time longer. But "ifs," "ands," or "buts" get you nowhere in this world, so fuck 'em each sideways.


Ahh, the amazing "Great Cornholio." That episode snuck up on my brother and I like Danny Ocean and his cohorts would the Bellagio. I've never seen a human being laugh as hard as Scotty B. did while watching that one for the first time. Unforgettable.

In Conclusion: Here's to the oft-forgetten by most, but never lost in my mind, Beavis & Butthead. Instead of wasting our brains away with endless reality show drivel, why not bring back some B&B reruns, MTV? Or, Mr. Judge, a new feature film, at the least. That Beavis & Butthead Do America was a bit of a letdown. My Uncle Harry, who shared the B&B love with my brother and I, took us to see it at the Ridgewood movie theater, and he was fuming with disappointment. Still expresses anger over that movie, over 12 years later. Bittersweet symphonies, he sings.



***Mental Bonus: You know what I also loved? Liquid TV. Where Beavis & Butthead first appeared (fun fact for that ass), playing a controversial game of Frog Baseball. The Tracy Ullman Show to B&B's The Simpsons. Liquid TV is also where sexy-squared Aeon Flux (yes, cartoon characters can be sexy) initially surfaced. Just a headtrip of a show, full of cutting edge animation and mind-fucking creativity. Like Ren & Stimpy, Liquid TV more than deserves its own post. Note to self.

"Lickety Split, split lickety......"

8 Mile is on VH1, and I'd forgotten how much I love this movie. Especially when he verbally incinerates those Free World bitches in the final battle setpiece.

"Tanktop screamin' 'Lotto, I don't fit you!"

In honor of this time capsule of a flick (for me, it represents a time when my Jersey friends and I were particularly into this hip hop shit, as a collective, and we saw this as a unit on opening night. I left the theater flirting with the notion of putting pen to paper, hoping I could one day kick ass in a battle just as B. Rabbit did....clearly, that pipe dream went the way of mushroom cloud smoke), here's the just-flawless "Lose Yourself," the flick's theme song.

Sure, this was a smash commercial hit and all that jazz. But did/do people realize how incredible this song really is? The way it charges your blood, and makes you want to go conquer the world. And then there's Eminem's untouchable flow, verses, message. Serious shit.

(for some reason, the actual video has been taken down from Youtube. Guess those labels and their new anti-Youtube policies are in effect)


Let's get this Relapse album sooner than later, eh?

official Gomorrah trailer hits like automatic weapon-fire

Been skimming through heaps of praise for this one for months now. Hits in limited release here in early February, and I'll be close-to-first on line. Won't say "first on line" exactly because I'm a realist (or try to be one), and that's just cliche crazy talk.

"Based on Roberto Saviano's incendiary best seller exposing Italy's modern day criminal underworld, the film centers on the Comorra crime family's absolute control of the crime syndicate in Naples."
--Presented by Martin Scorcese, so you know it's good.

Gomorrah

'Gomorrah' Theatrical Trailer @ Yahoo! Video

August 21, 2009....Inglourious Basterds will kick your ass (fingers crossed)

Spotted over at: Cinematical

So, Inglourious Basterds has been given an August 21, 2009 release date, it seems. Totally doesn't strike me as a late-Summer drop-in, honestly. That's the time when studios spew out the lowest-common-denominators of May-to-September moneymakers, isn't it? Has always seemed so to me---this past August 22, in fact (as Cinematical points out) saw Death Race and The House Bunny.... exactly. A WWII epic starring Brad Pitt, directed by Quentin Tarantino, and hoping to play in competition at the Cannes Film Festival feels about far from "lowest-common-denominator of May-to-September moneymakers" as a film can get, no?

I'm expecting this to shift to a later-2009 date sooner than later. But if not, all good with me either way. I just want to see the fuckin' thing already (even though I wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Tarantino hasn't even finished shooting it yet....he's pumping this one out with rapid force).

At least this news is another excuse to post this pic from the film. Badass, it is:

the big 27.....30 keeps getting closer and closer

New Years = My Birthday = Twilight Zone marathon = my own private utopia

The Twilight Zone's New Year Eve-through-Day 48-hour marathon. A cornerstone of not only my late childhood, but also my teenage years and current phase of adulthood.



The yearly tradition started back sometime around 1994. Give or take a year or two. This is just a rough guesstimation. Back when the New Years marathon was on Channel 11, not yet having relocated to the Sci-Fi Channel. The Twilight Zone had been one of those cool-sounding classics that my pops and uncles would chat about, one that always seemed like the quintessential "Matt Show," but I had been hesitant to watch. The reason: it all seemed like it'd go over my 12-year-old head. The images and suspense would register, sure, but from what my elders had been saying, it seemed like a show that went deeper than the bizarre and often chilling. Social issues were dissected, and considering that the show originally aired during the early '60s, the relevancy of the subjects and themes covered were decades of their time.



But all this changed the New Years party celebrating the arrival of 1995, a shindig at my parents house that ushered in several of their longtime friends. Plus myself, a pre-teen ready to ring in my 13th birthday in mere hours. Being a New Years Baby has its instant advantages, most notably the built-in party that comes along with it. This time, it was me and about 10 forty-somethings in attendance. One guest, my dad's sarcastically-arrogant friend Dennis, was a huge Zone head, and asked to have the television set switched to Channel 11's ongoing T-Zone onslaught. In a lucky twist of fate for Mr. Dennis, his favorite episode just happened to be on: "A Game of Pool," the one where Jonathan Winters plays a ghost who challenges Jack Klugman's hotshot pool-player into a life-or-death game of billiards. Dennis loved to play pool, so it made sense.



Sitting on the couch next to Dennis, watching as the great episode bobbed and weaved from funny to morbid in quick strokes, I was hypnotized. Unable to look away. Even as the ep ended, Dennis went back into the kitchen for some more grown-up sipping, but I remained fastened, hooked into the Zones. The only time I allowed the partygoers to change the channel was to watch the ball drop. Moments after the New Year officially began, I swiped the remote control from one of my mom's sloppily-drunken gal-pal's hands and put Channel 11 back on.

I stayed up 'til about 5am that night, and ten Twilight Zone gems later, I fell asleep on the couch, officially a Zone fanatic. And every New Years since, whether it be for hours in a row or merely a few episodes scattered, I've made it an ritual to watch some of the marathon. It's been on the Sci-Fi Channel for the past half-a-decade, maybe longer, but its just as magical as it was on Channel 11. The funny part is that I actually own all 168 Zone episodes on DVD, thanks to my awesome parents and their greatest-birthday-gift-giving-effort-ever a few years back, when they gave me the entire "Definitive Edition" DVD set. One of my prized possessions, it remains, far behind but not lost amongst the thoughts of my dog Zoey. No joke.

As I type this, I'm watching the sneakily sinister episode "Queen of the Nile," about a journalist sent to profile a beautiful, seemingly-ageless actress, who ends up being the actual Queen of the Nile, kept alive and gorgeous for centuries thanks to the evil deeds of Egyptian gods. Sweet. The roommate and I are having guests over later for some pregame drinks before we head on out to our NYE celebration, but please believe that I'll do my damndest to keep The Twilight Zone the tube for as long as humanly possible. If anything, I'll use the trusty old "....but its my birthday, man! I should get final say on what to watch, no?" That probably won't work, since Rock Band 2 will surely trump my sentimenal, imaginative ass. But its worth a valiant shot, I say.

Everything about The Twilight Zone connects with every side of my personality, my outlook, my imagination fascination. Even when decidedly heartwarming, the show was never too stuck-up or lunkheaded to totally skirt the unknown. The supernatural was always looming, a mindbender of an ending found within the majority. As somebody who cherishes superb storytelling and screenwriting, the show has never lost its touch; no matter when I turn on any particular episode, the pacing and ideas-beneath-peculiar-dressing impress. Often times, astonish. Some simply enjoy The Zone for thrills, genre-muffling entertainment of the most enjoyable caliber. Others, though, such as myself, can't help but dig deeper to uncover the high intelligence and topical relevance. It isn't just TV....The Twilight Zone plays like a one-of-a-kind 30-minute, sometimes hour-long, trip into your theater of the mind.

I'd love to write ad naus about my personal favorite episodes here, but I've got a busy day on the horizon. Time is a-tickin'. But fuck, how amazing are "The Monsters are Due on Maple Street," "The Hitchhiker," "Five Characters in Search of an Exit," "After Hours," "People are Alike All Over," "Nervous Man in a Five Dollar Room," "Eye of the Beholder," "Deaths-Head Revisited," "The New Exhibit," "The Howling Man," and "The Masks"? Just to cite a few.





New Years Eve/Day: not only significant and timelessly special because its my born-day, but also because it first introduced me to unbeatable, never-will-be-matched greatness of The Twilight Zone. It'll forever remain both my favorite television show of all time and my top source of narrative superiority. Rod Serling (creator, head writer, all around genius), my idol and endless supplier of inspiration and brain satiating.



The hardcover book volumes of original Twilight Zone episodes scripts, the entries into my reading-material collection I'm most proud of, and intend to put to the most career-beneficially use in calendars to come.

Now, back to the marathon, a wonderful birthday gift I'd like to think that Rod Serling and the good folks at the Sci-Fi Channel give to me once a year. If only it came encased in wrapping paper.

Year in Review: How did I miss this story when it happened??

From AOL News:

"Silly Filly: On a fine October day, Gracie the horse decided to investigate a hole in a tree, but she went a little bit too far and got stuck. Owner Jason Harschbarger of Pullman, W.Va., snapped the photo before using a chainsaw to cut Gracie free. She was not seriously hurt."

This picture is having a profound impact on me, and I can't call why.

2008, The Shitty Year That It Was for Rap

Yeah, 2008 was even more of a shitty year for rap than it was for American-made, theatrically-released horror films. Infinitely more so.

Sad that the only albums I can honestly say I still give a shit about are: Elzhi's The Preface and Europass, Black Milk's Tronic, eMC's The Show, Planet Asia and DJ Muggs' Pain Language, Q-Tip's The Renaissance, Scarface's Emeritus, and T.I.'s Paper Trail. Why "sad"? Because only one of those albums made any impact, and we all know which one. And yes, I do realize that The Carter 3 came out, but I'm still as indifferent about that one as I was upon initial listen(s).

After such an uneventful, lackluster year on my ears, I have zero energy and/or motivation to write about it. So thankfully Smoking Section has taken the initiative to compile a hilarious-because-its-all-true list of the year's biggest turds. Enjoy.

The Smoking Section's spot-on "Most Disappointing Hip Hop Albums of 2008

Some good shooting of the shit....

A couple of interview clips from the Charlie Rose show with Brad Pitt (a top actor in my book) and David Fincher (very well could be my top working filmmaker today). For somebody like me, this is coolness, considering that neither guy gives too many sitdowns. So having both together in one room is pretty eventful.

Ah, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. A film I'd been waiting all year for, in hopes of it smacking upside the left-cheek with amazing-ness. Instead, it just backhanded me with mostly greatness but some weakness that has prevented it from leaving a huge mark. Maybe I need to see it again before I totally chalk it up to an admirable, well-conceived, somewhat letdown.

There's like nine parts to this, all found on Youtube. I'm just posting a couple here. And note the creepy little mustache that Pitt has; its for his Inglourious Basterds character, so it's a-okay. Quit giggling at it. No, he doesn't look like your pedophile neighbor.

Part 2


Part 3

"Why are you wearing that stupid man-suit?"

Revisiting this one tonight was a stellar idea.



After a good four years away from it, this one is still as hilarious, profound, unsettling, and perplexing as the first dozen times I watched it.

I refuse to believe that writer-director Richard Kelly is a one-cult-hit wonder. Here's to his next one, The Box, wiping the frustration-stains of his too-daring-for-its-own-good Southland Tales clean off. I mean, its based on a Richard Matheson tale, and Matheson is a pillar (in my mind). All the pieces are in play. Now, knock 'em down, Richie boy.

Oh, and Jena Malone truly is one of the most slept-on natural beauties in the game. I've seen plenty of her movie-press-run interviews, and she's never less than equal parts charming, quirky, and free-from-restraint.

I'd kick it with her any time, any place, any second.

Goblin ruled, still rules

Here's a case where I'll let the sounds do the justifying/explaining/entertaining here.

Goblin = a group of progressive musicians from Italy who scored some of the best genre flicks to come out of the 1970s/the best soundtrack-providers in cinematic history (at least for my corrupted sensibilities)

Listen to their work, and fall in love. Or not, though be warned: if you don't, I'll think less of you. Maybe just keep the far-from-impressed reactions to yourself, then.

George A. Romero's Dawn of the Dead, the first time I noticed the collective group name Goblin in the credits under "original music by..."


Dario Argento's Suspiria, officially my all-time top movie score, hands crashed-down on the table of decision (seriously, how fuckin' brilliant is this right here? Cool points forever awarded to Cage and RJD2 for sampling it on "Weather People," too)


Argento's Deep Red....Goblin and Argento went together like Danny Elfman and Tim Burton (Argento even produced Dawn of the Dead)


**Just watched Deep Red for the second time. The "painting is actually a mirror" trick is perfectly-executed, and genius maximized. Well played, Argento-sir. Well played.

>>>>BONUS
This one's not by Goblin; rather, it's the work of another great Italian horror film composer: Fabio Frizzi. And it rules just as much as the above Goblin stuff.

The main theme for Lucio Fulci's awesome-in-every-gloriously-overdone-Dawn-of-the-Dead-ripping-off-way Zombi. (Necro, that aforementioned horror-loving sick fuck/horrorcore rap producer, also sampled this one. What a guy.)

Valkyrie, post-watching thoughts...

It's late. I'm tired. Why couldn't the fuckin' AMC nearby have shown this closer to 9pm, not 11pm? Those inglourious basterds! Going with a bullet-point approach to my specific reactions here. But overall, I dug Valkyrie more than enough. Was highly entertained, never anywhere near bored. Taken as a straightforward suspense thriller, it was damn near first-rate; as a historical account, though, a bit hollow, lacking the meaty layers necessary for full impact. Go into this one as you may.



The Good:
**as just mentioned, the rapid-fire pacing and dedication to the "assassination plot against Adolf Hitler by members of his own army" mission at narrative hand made for what lazier folk would label as a "nail-biter." I, I'll just call it a great piece of tense entertainment. Aside from Colonel Stauffenberg, the head of the anti-Fuhrer mutiny played by Tom Cruise, the rest of the traitors are given zero backgstory, leaving their specific reasons for turning against Hitler mysteries. We just know that they're tired of the tyrant and his civilian-slaughtering, destructive ways.

**considering that we all know the film's outcome before even buying a ticket (the assassination attempt, although the best and most closely-effective of its kind, was unsuccessful, and all involved were executed immediately), the fact that Valkyrie still manages to captivate with ample suspense is something that director Bryan Singer (Superman Returns, X-Men, The Usual Suspects) should be saluted for here.

**and finally, a surprisingly well-handled aspect...the use of all English language here. The intention with the film (at least how it seems to me) is to deliver a top-notch popcorn thriller (albeit one with a bit more truthfulness and importance than other "popcorn" fare), and in order to do so, asses need to be in seats, thus rendering the use of German speaking and subtitles obsolete, unfortunately. I don't mind subtitles, but many (lame mofos) do, so be it. But at least the way the film's English-speaking is eased into within the opening minute it nicely-pulled-off.

And now....

The Bad:
**the stunt casting of Tom Cruise. Sure, Cruise sort of resembles the real Stauffenberg (Google him, I'm too lazy to search for a pic and post it here), but he's way too miscast here. Just see the scene where he angrily exclaims the infamous "Heil Hitler!" salute. The audience I was with erupted in laughter at something that should've been stone-cold serious. And really, if his performance was grade-A+, I wouldn't even have cared that it was a megastar in the role, but his work here is pretty flat. Not his best job done, by any means. He isn't terrible; he's just mediocre, and being that he's surrounded by some very-fine supporting talent (such as Tom Wilkinson, Bill Nighy, and Terence Stamp, all performing greatly here), his faults bleed through the screen.

**related to Cruise, the film's over-dependency on humanizing Stauffenberg by including a brely-there subplot involving his wife and children, as well as an opening scene where he's severely wounded in battle. Neither proves sufficient enough to the basic "assassination attempt" storyboard as things progress, and Stauffenberg is more of a supporting character here than the true lead, so efforts to give him narrative padding fall way short. I can think of at least three other characters in the film that I'd rather have learned more about, but never got to as Valkyrie approaches the all-real-people roster.

**and lastly, an additional negative flipside to the whole "lean, straight-to-the-core approach"....certain spots of the story would've been better served with some explanatory injections. For instance, just how did the choice of "hand-delivered bomb into one of Hitler's private meetings which would set off Operation Valkyrie" end up being the plan? What led to this exactly? Were any other elaborate ideas flirted with at any point? As Valkyrie has it, the plan is decided upon seemingly nonchalantly, and agreed upon rather quickly. Which I'm sure wasn't really the case.

Final Statement:
Valkyrie is totally worth seeing, as long as you go in expecting nothing more than a fast, lean, potboiler of a suspense ride. In no way a "great" film; just a very entertaining, though flawed, one, and one that I'd definitely watch a few more times. I'll just have to turn my critical switch to Off and enjoy the at-times-bumpy-but-ultimately-satisfying ride.

A little exploitation makes any night much nicer.....

I have this one second-cousin, named Larry, who has always been somewhat of an enigma. Quirky in several ways, mysterious in others, he's the guy that my pops and other relatives tell weirdly funny childhood stories about, to further explain his eccentricities. Some family members prefer to not engage in one-on-one convos with Larry, in fear of being cornered and forced into strange idle chatter, but not I. In fact, his personality kinks suit my interests more well than most others. Prime example: Christmas Eve, a few days ago. Larry and I got to talking, inevitably circling into a discussion of literature and cinema, two areas of interest we share in common.

The most intriguing bit of nostalgia he blessed me with was a fond memory of sneaking away from his parents as a teen, hopping on a bus into Manhattan, and catching double features of grindhouse-era exploitation cinema. Naturally, my ears perked up, and envy settled in.

The sleazy, sticky-floored, darkly-lit, shoddy-quality-film-reel experience of exploitation double features is one of the many things I wish I could've partaken in; replacing the overpriced, crowded confusion of my local AMC and/or Loews with much more quaint, cost-effective theaters where people were most likely having sex three rows behind you, while a couple of the older gentlemen seated within would probably exit the theater and proceed to break some laws, or at least some sense(s) of decency.

My fascination with the grindhouse experience is twofold: the just-discussed atmosphere of the terribly-maintained theaters, and the low-grade, morally-depraved films themselves. Watching over-the-top-in-gore slashers in the comfort of my bedroom or parents' living room doesn't quite gel, largely because of roommate/parent interferences and "You're fucking sick, Matt" damnations. Being that my setting options for such viewings are limited, though, that is precisely how I checked out two beloved exploitation slashers, 1973's Torso and 1982's Pieces. Months, maybe even a year, back, I'd read how horror aficionado/geek Eli Roth (creator of Cabin Fever, and the Hostel films) organized a double feature screening of both flicks at Los Angeles' New Beverly Theater, an act of "you must see these on a big screen" fandom. Roth is one of those dudes who's seen practically every horror film ever made, and talks about both his favorites and least-liked with contagious glee.

Torso and Pieces are two of his all-time most-cherished, so, regardless of whether I'd watch at home or somewhere more suitable, I had to check them out. And thanks to Netflix, availablity is no problem.

First up, Pieces.


A truly awful film in terms of execution and common sense, but not one without its charms. It's a shameless Texas Chainsaw Massacre derivative, and not something I'd rush back to watch again anytime soon, but I can understand why the Eli Roths of the world swear by it. The set-up: masked serial killer stalks hot coeds on an otherwise-lifeless college campus, slicing and dicing the PYTs with his trusty chainsaw in an effort to construct a jigsaw puzzle of human limbs. His very own Frankenstein's monster. Milton Bradley banned, too-controversial game: Fun with Ed Gein

That's it, plot wise, but really, what more would you expect from an '80s slasher anyway? The dialogue is atrocious, and Pieces has some of the worst dubbing this side of a Godzilla flick. And, even for an exploitation-era horror film, Pieces goes a bit too far with its "rawness" during some of its elaborate kill scenes. Namely, one part where the killer has cornered a cute tennis player in a girls' locker room shower, taunting her with his buzzing chainsaw. She's terrified, understandably, but rather than focus on her scared eyes, director Juan Piquer Simon zooms in on her crotch as she pees her pants. Quite the gentleman's act, right? While watching from the comfort of my couch, even I cringed, and shouted, "Oh come on, man, that's just unnecessary!"

Simon does deserve kudos, however for the bit where the knife jams into the back of the chick's head and exits through her open mouth, all while she's squirming on a blood-filled waterbed. That was quite impressive, and well handled. Hey, what do ya know? Youtube has said scene, in embeddable glory!


Then there's the acting in Pieces, though which is across-the-board subpar. Especially guilty is the main protagonist, a curly-haired, questionably-successful-with-the-ladies, 30-something-year-old university student entrusted by the police department to act as their "eyes and ears," and good-lord is he one of the most annoying, unlikeable characters around. As Pieces moved forward at a gory clip, I was afraid that dude would survive, being that he's the main guy and all, but fortunately I was wrong. Dead wrong. The film's final moment serves him with one fuck of a sendoff, and the concluding image is now up there alongside Sleepaway Camp amongst the most "what the fuck!" final images in horror history. This ending alone salvaged Pieces, elevating it from a forgettable dirtball featuring some pretty nifty kill scenes into a batshit-crazy tour-de-force of awesome stupidity.

I recommend watching this whole clip, but to see the stellar ending image, fast forward to the 1:15 mark. It's fucking amazing. Who knew that serial killer had been some sort of mad scientist with the capability to renanimate a corpse all along? Makes absolutely zero sense, but still rocks hardcore.



Torso, on the other hand, is a much more fascinating piece of work.


Originally, Torso was attached to a print of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and the two were shown as a double feature here in American. Artistically, it's surprisingly impressive, full of beautiful cinematography and shots that even the most tight-collared of film critics would have to commend. Even nicer on the eyes is the film's untouchable roster of female talent, an endless supply of stunningly-gorgeous women that lifts Torso into the upper echelon of eye-candy films I've ever seen. One girl in particular had me seriously sprung, like totally head-over-heels infatuated. Which made her eventual demise unexpectedly tragic (in a purely hormonal sense, of course; her character is as underdeveloped as they come).

Here's her curtain call, a logic-less head-scratcher: she's just avoided a raping at the hands of two motorcycle-riding hippies who had been feeling her up at some random hippie drug-orgy. As an escape route, she's stumbled into the muddiest, most perfectly-fog-drenched woods imaginable (don't ask), where our killer just happens to be hanging out, of course. Enjoy (this is actually a great-looking sequence, if nothing else). You can't get the clearest of looks at the actress, but even quick glances should justify my gargantuan-sized crush on miss thing. And excuse the partial nudity (yes, I do realize that posting such a video will have people thinking, "Matt is pretty twisted, huh? This is the kind of shit he watched during his free time?" Yes, it is. Wanna fight about it?):



Torso is basically another "college students being picked off one by one" story for the first hour or so. During which I was constantly confused and left with no fucking clue as to what was going on. Random people are killed, backstories are given that aren't ever touched upon again. Thankfully, Torso takes an inspired detour for its final 30 minutes, a cat-and-mouse stalker scenario in some fancy villa where four sexy-as-hell chicks have gone to hide from the killings going down on campus, and engage in some steamy lesbian sex (just for the fuck of it). What commences at the villa is all pretty intense, slow moving to effective degrees, and even takes a No Country for Old Men-like "less is more" approach to the deaths of some key characters. Also of worthy note: during the climactic mano-y-mano fight between the killer and the potential hero, one dude lands a sweet-ass dropkick straight out of Jackie Chan's Greatest Hits. Bravo!

Torso has tons of flaws (from some laughable acting, to overlong bits of pointless character exposition), but by the end credits I found myself pleasantly satisfied. If I can get my mitts on a DVD copy for no more than $15, I may even purchase. Because, even like the inferior Pieces, Torso is the kind of film that we'll never see made again, at least here in the States (makes sense that Torso come from Italy, actually). The director, Sergio Martino, couldn't give two shits about acceptance; he simply wanted to push the slasher genre forward with as much artistry and reckless taste-abandonment as he could. Sure, he was far from a Stanley Kubrick-level master, or even Dario Argento, but not many are, anyway.

I'd take something with only half the fun of Torso over a new Saw film any time, any day. Fuck, I wish I could've grown up 20-25 years ago. I would've been in grindhouse nirvana.

There Will Be Blood In The Hallways and Cafeteria

Just watched this again thanks to the IFC Channel.

This is/was one of those DVDs I bought just off the strength of alread-read reviews, and basic knowledge of the film's subject matter, which fascinate(s)(d) me. Watched it a week or so after the purchase, and immediately restarted it and viewed again. One of the quietest, bare-bones movies I've ever seen, but also one of the most hypnotically haunting and can't-shake-off to boot.



The last ten minutes alone are the stuff of everyday-life nightmares. Eeenie, meeny, miney, mo....

The anatomy of a school shooting, as seen/shot through the eyes of Gus Van Sant.

A must-see if you've yet to do so.

Post-Christmas Revival

Merry belated Christmas to who ever visits this little site of mine, by the way. Been running around like headless poultry the past few days, and had a pretty great Christmas yesterday, full of overeating, calorie-rific pastries, happy rugrats, and other joys.

Now, back to posting of weird shit.

Not much to say here, other than it's France's apparent answer to 28 Days Later. France, the current mecca of kick-ass horror. If that's not enough of a sales pitch, slap me in the face and keep it moving.

Mutants

Diggin' In the Youtube Crates

How could I have not heard this song before today? Thanks to one of my equally-old-school-adoring co-workers, this muddy gem from Saukrates, called "Father Time," has entered my world. And I'm quite the content camper.

Originally unleashed back in '95, apparently. Of course it was---that's when beats like these were the norm, and I could buy new rap albums at will and expect at least six or seven great tracks. Nowadays, well, no comment.

Just bask in the dark macabre here. Feels like a horror movie is playing in the background as the dude Saukrates freestyles. Fantastic.

Somebody give this photographer a raise, stat!

I'm not gonna front and act like I saw this live on the tube during last night's Monday Night Football, or that I even know what exactly happened (though I'd assume this Rams dude was in the wrong place at the wrong time).

These are just pictures that don't come around very often. Practically demand as many forums to be seen as possible.

Spotted over at: Yahoo Sports

2008, The Year in Film (Through My Distorted Eyes)

Late last week, I put together a "Top 8 Films of 2008" list over at the KING Mag website, so I'll spare doing another one here. But in doing said countdown, there was a great number of this year's flicks that I couldn't discuss/single out/insult thanks to space restrictions. On the same token, I'm not in the mood to write ad naus about every f'n movie that left a real mark on me, so here I present, a lazy list of films both great, surprising, and despicable (in no particular orders, and not limited to specific numerical boundaries).

As you can tell, this was a pretty great, diverse year at the movie for yours truly. Great (mostly solo) times.

2008's Movies That I Loved, And Will Watch For Years To Come
The Wrestler
Synecdoche, New York
The Dark Knight
Slumdog Millionaire
Revolutionary Road
Wendy and Lucy
Wall-E
Doubt
Rachel Getting Married
The Signal
Snow Angels
The Strangers
Let The Right One In
Pineapple Express
Timecrimes
Cloverfield

2008's Films I Respect And/Or Enjoyed, But Can't See Myself Re-watching Much
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Milk
Forgetting Sarah Marshall
Speed Racer
Changeling
Redbelt
The Wackness

2008's Films That Surprised The Hell Out Of Me, and I Loved Unexpectedly (Or More Than Expected)
Quarantine (a remake of a beloved flick that I expected to drop the ball, but thankfully carried it into the endzone, and then did the Iggy Shuffle)
Role Models
Iron Man
Rock N Rolla
Red
Che
Burn After Reading
The Visitor
Funny Games (another triumphant Quarantine-like remake case)
Tropic Thunder
Step Brothers (had damn-near written Will Ferrell's once-great-funny off, but he came to play here, as did Mr. John C. Reilly)
The Ruins
Fear(s) of the Dark
The Midnight Meat Train
Doomsday
Frost/Nixon
Kung Fu Panda
Wanted
Mulberry Street
Hellboy II: The Golden Army
Choke

2008's Films That Left Me Indifferent, And I'll Soon Forget...Actually, I Have Forgotten
Miracle at St. Anna
Eagle Eye
Zack & Miri Make A Porno
Sex & the City
Repo! The Genetic Opera
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
Traitor
Stop-Loss
The Incredible Hulk


2008's Films That Truly Sucked, With Little-To-No Redeeming Factors, And I'll Hate Forever
The Happening
Mirrors
Hancock
Seven Pounds
Blindness
Vantage Point
Righteous Kill
The Spirit

2008's Straight-to-DVD Films That Kicked Much Ass
Inside
Frontiere(s)
6 Films to Keep You Awake

....and, looking ahead:
***2009 Films I'm Anxious-As-All-Goodness-Gracious To See...Don't Let Me Down (Yes, This List Is Long...)
Inglourious Basterds
Shutter Island
Watchmen
The Wolf Man
Trick 'r' Treat
The Lovely Bones
Observe & Report
Vinyan
Martyrs
Funny People
Gomorrah
My Bloody Valentine 3D
The Unborn
Friday the 13th
Coraline
The Hurt Locker
Surveillance
Terminator Salvation
Drag Me to Hell
Monsters Vs. Aliens
The Soloist
The Road
Bruno
Bitch Slap
Last House on the Left
Moon
Whiteout
The Crazies
The Class
Kick-Ass
Jennifer's Body
Black Dynamite
Year One
Riot

...and finally, since I'm such a swell guy, a little treat for enduring these long, probably your-time-wasting lists: a pic of this year's biggest "sexy female I'd slept on for far too long" revelation....Mila Kunis.

Points of Interest, Today's Edition

1) Been listening to this dude's music a helluva lot lately, take from this what you/I will. Always considered Cage one of the more underrated lyricists around, but going back to his catalog over the last week or so, it's a truth even more-largely solidified. Dude raps his ass off, and goes at topics and subject matter that are truly secular to him and him alone.



May come off as blasphemy, but in the grand scheme, I may even prefer Cage to Eminem. ***Ducks an onslaught of bile***

2) Iron Man was pretty awesome, though it isn't appearing on any of my own personal nobody-else-cares-about-it-anyway "Best Of '08's Films" lists. But the rumors swirling around its in-development sequel point to Tony Stark's next two villains as:



Black Widow, and Hawkeye. If proven true, the sequel seems in good shape. Here's to Isla Fisher (Wedding Crashers; The Lookout) being cast as Ms. Widow, if so. Cute as hell, charismatic on screen, unconventional for this kinda role. Works for me.


3) Some new on-set images from Inglourious Basterds have popped online? Nice! Ones that show the pain-staking detail(s) that Tarantino continues to achieve = even nicer. I love fake posters, and things of this nature, in films.

Spotted over at: /Film

Alicia Keys wearing a bikini.....

....isn't as glorious as I'd envisioned, to be honest.

Spotted over at: The Superficial


I'm not the biggest fan of privacy-crushing paparazzi shots, but this was one I felt almost obligated to give attention. Alicia Keys in beachwear is quite the hook.

She's still fine, sure. But I'd be lying if I said some of the "seductive mystique" she had hasn't diminished ever-so-slightly. Whatever.

Now, back to reality....

the Thundercats movie we've all been waiting for....

....starring Brad Pitt, Hugh Jackman, and Vin Diesel is....

....still not happening. No chance in hell. But some dudes known as Wormy TV have, at least, imagined "what if," and put together this pretty amazing faux trailer for it.

Enjoy:



Spotted over at: Hollywood Elsewhere

In honor of the great, unfairly forgotten Wonder Showzen

....at least it feels like folks have forgotten. I can count on one hand how many people acually know what the fuck I'm talking about when I hit them with, "Did you watch Wonder Showzen? And, if you did, wasn't Clarence the single-funniest thing on TV at the time?"

Wonder who? Who the hell is Clarence?

It was essentially a kids' show on an unhealthy prescription of acid and date-rape drugs (a truly-adult mocking of Yo Gabba Gabba in design/presentation/structure), and there was some stuff that I couldn't believed MTV sanctioned. I mean, one of the main characters is a penis-head with eyes and pube-hair.



For the uninitiated, Clarence was this big blue hand puppet that some dude wore out in public, Triumph the Insult Comic Dog inspired I'm sure, and would annoy any poor soul who entertained its asinine questions. Clarence's crowning achievement: asking people to explain the "importance of patience" to the kids at home, while testing each person's respective patience through repeated questions, requests to say "louder." Pedestrians got heated, and I laughed uncontrollably.

So many jewels: Beat Kids, on-the-street child reporters who say the most offensive shit; "Slaves! Built the pyramids....Slaves! Built the Parthenon"; Tyler, "America's Most Perfect Child"; Potty Mouth, the kid whose mouth is an actual toilet that spews out endless profanity;

A Wonder Showzen greatest hits, courtesy of Youtube, that has no embed code unfortunately

I'm guessing MTV has stuck the proverbial fork in this one, which is a shame of Cloverfield-monster magnitude. More staged dating shows and kill-me-now Hills spinoffs, but no more subversive, hilarious, button-pushing shit like Wonder Showzen? MTV sucks balls of the largest size.

Said large-testicles on display here....I felt so wrong for laughing at this, but I ultimately submitted to the wrong:


Consider me the one-man promo team for MTV to bring this show back. Two short seasons wasn't nearly enough. Or at least, bring it back rerun style. I can watch my season DVDs whenever I damn well choose, granted, but the sleeping world deserves to see this shit for themselves. Wake up time.




How this dude get his ass either kicked or killed at some point is beyond me.


I watched this "Patience" segment with my dad once, and even Pops Barone lost his shit.

Clarence is one of my top friends on Myspace. He'll forever remain one until he takes his page down. That's my mans and them.