Action! Reaction! A film blog covering the banished and ever-lowly genre of action movies.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Ebert on Wayne

I somehow neglected to post this when I first read it, yet, as is the custom here at the Action Reaction, better late than never!



Roger Ebert wrote an absolutely spectacular piece on John Wayne a few weeks ago, actually when I was still in New Zealand. Check it out if you haven't already.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

More genius advertising

In response to IFC's 50 Greatest Trailers of All Time, Jeffrey Wells of Hollywood Elsewhere posted this piece of ingenius work:



In addition, a commenter on the blog listed yet another list (from Empire), also worthy of discussion.

My only response to this madness (other than that the Cliffhanger bit is wonderful) is the following:



I would comment further but I gotta run. Until then, enjoy the trailers, they're top-notch.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Van Damage overload


"...or when every second of Hard Target made my girlfriend pregnant."

This is one of the funniest, most accurate articles I've ever seen on the awesomeness that is Van Damme. The author, nicknamed Seanbaby, is supposedly new to Cracked, and I wish him the best for this ingenious piece of work alone.

Check it out here.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The King of Pop is dead

And I'm sorry for it. We'll miss you Michael, even with your misadventures.

God save the Queen.


(And Prince too)

Strike Two


OWNED (Pt. 2...)

Well, there you have it. My YouTube page has once again been suspended. Some little man representing the Weinsteins stumbled upon 'part 2' of a Grindhouse video from one of the Grindhouse movies and decided to give it the ax... it's just bullshit, at least they could've taken me down in style.

Anyway...

To celebrate this most cataclysmic affair, why not turn the discussion to our very own headmaster of havoc, Micheal Bay, and the reign of terror thrown back on his terrifyingly incomprehensibly bad juggernaut of shittanks and poop plants??

Childish? Not so, at least when compared to Mikey:

The 9 Most Scathing Critical Responses, from Movieline

If Everyday Life was Directed by Michael Bay, from Cracked

Top Ten Movie Robots in Disguise (other than Transformers), from the Film Experience Blog

And,

Even Michael Bay wishes Transformers was shorter, from The Playlist (from Anne Thompson)

Even more, from Scanners

Don't forget about Ebert, who rips a new asshole "large enough to drive a truck through"


Whatever, that's all I have for now.

Friday, June 19, 2009

AICN visits the set of The Expendables!

Check it out here. It's very much worth the read, for people anticipating the film or otherwise.

Can, not, wait.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Review: The Taking of Pelham 123


Ryder (John Travolta), the Gordon Gekko of the new millennium...

The Taking of Pelham 123 takes the great material of the original hostage and doesn't let it go. It doesn't kill it, it doesn't take it anywhere different. It just stalls—much like the titular train—in the middle of the track, in the middle of the movie, somewhere in the middle of this era of pointless remakes.

What the original represented was a tough, gritty, New York-state-of-mind thriller influencing everything from Quentin Tarantino to the Die Hard films. What 123 (streamlined from One Two Three) represents is, well, I don't know, a waste of time, talent, and money? Your money, at least—it takes the great material of the original hostage for your money—constantly threatening to do something with it just like John Travolta's shout-laugh-curse of a performance in nameless/faceless thug attire (anyone who praises him here obviously hasn't seen Broken Arrow, or Face/Off, or any other cheap villainous role he may take in this second-waning of his career).

The story is more or less the same, following the hijacking of a subway train in New York with behind-the-scenes operator Walter Garber (the always decent-enough Denzel Washington) squaring off in a war of (mostly) words with the mysterious Ryder (Travolta). The dialogue between the two is surprisingly fresh, but director Tony Scott has trouble playing it right. The truth is, he seems to have trouble playing a lot of things right. His quick-cut, sporadically slow-mo, sporadically sporadic direction is not exciting, not intensifying, it's not even annoying. It's just there, more boring than anything. What this results in is a feeling of emptiness throughout the film; not because of an overload of action, not because of a weak script, but because of Scott's incompetence in communicating the material, and, ultimately, directing it.

Much talk has been made of a third act breakdown. I beg to differ. Here, Scott and co. actually manage to make something of the human element enfused into previously stone-cold material. The over-fleshed backstories of protagonist and antagonist, as well as the overlong chit-chats between them, finally attain some sense of meaning. In other words, I actually cared about the characters again. Their final showdown benefits from its simplicity, something which 123 fails to learn from Joseph Sargent's original.

Without David Shire's picture-perfect score, without the racist/sexist New York sensibility, without the nobody-persona of Walter Matthau and the stone-cold Robert Shaw, The Taking of Pelham is reduced—from a modern perspective—to nothing more than yet another Die Hard rip-off. I actually felt bored and detached around the halfway point, and considering the by-the-minutes plot and Tony Scott's feverish attempts to keep me excited, this is a most noteworthy concern. In the end, The Taking of Pelham 123 is frustrating because while there's nothing particularly bastardizing about it, there certainly isn't anything redeeming, either. I said it once I'll say it again; these completely pointless remakes have to stop, and they have to stop now.


*1/2 out of ****

~ Patrick Fryberger

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Shutter Island trailer

This looks like the first thing Scorsese has done since Cape Fear that has B-movie awesomeness written all over it. Granted, today's B-movieness is nowhere near as awesome as the early '90s' (what could compare to the early '90s, anyway?), but I'm ready for the nuttiness. Bring it.

Monday, June 8, 2009

Reporting from New Zealand: Catch-up, or rather, tomato sauce

Seeing that New Zealanders (Kiwi and Maori alike) have little understanding of the greatness that is ketchup I should probably just entitle this "Tomato Sauce," which is the next best thing here, apparently.

Either way, here are some important bits I would've posted if I had been back stateside:



David Carradine, super-fly even in the face of Chuck Norris

First and foremost, David Carradine has hung--though whether it was intentional (getting kinky, are we?) or even if he did it himself are both still in question. Though I wish I could've seen him in a few more movies, it's almost fitting that he went this way, at least with his celebrity persona in mind. I obviously never knew the man personally, but there's just something about it. I don't feel as sad as I do with most celebrity deaths. Call me a prick but it's the truth.

In terms of his career, I still lament over the missed casting of Warren Beatty in Kill Bill. Carradine was fine, but the role was obviously written for Beatty ("I'm the man"), and no matter how good Carradine could be, he still couldn't overcome Beatty's omnipresent shadow. A shame for all involved.

Other than that, I've always thought one of the greatest action-movie showdowns ever was between him and Chuck Norris in Lone Wolf McQuade. It's the downhome, American martial artist vs. pseudo-kung fu guru. As the villain, Carradine was tough, slimy, and above all, smooth. Just classic.

Obviously his Roger Corman days come to mind, but for me, when I was travelling in Argentina, I unearthed a giant poster of him in some '80s war movie--I think it was Behind Enemy Lines, but I can't be sure (the writing is in some unfamiliar language). It's one of the coolest cinematic artifacts I have ever seen in my life. That's how I will remember David Carradine, if for nothing else. An intriguing man.

Moving on, The Aspect Ratio strikes again--a great piece on the always-worthy-of-discussion John Milius.

A silly, movie-related Something Awful photoshop friday. The opener is the best.

James Cameron most appropriately trashes the new Terminator movie and subtly so. Speaking of which, you may have seen my clumsy review for Terminator: Salvation, which I actually caught here in New Zealand. I almost want to re-review it because it's just that frustrating. So much wasted potential!

Make sure you keep up on The Expendables blog and Twitter page. This movie will be the next best thing to The Dark Knight. Trust me here.

And well, speaking of such, here is advertising at its finest. Just professional. Sit back and enjoy:

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Review: Terminator: Salvation


Some Russian on a sub 'cause Russians and subs make sense

Terminator: Salvation is not just a failed experiment—a la its co-protagonist, Marcus Wright (an above-grade Sam Worthington)—but one gone terribly wrong. The incompetence of McG and co. handling such precious material is maddening, discouraging, and just unfair. They've managed to make damaged goods out of a potentially great franchise, and if the producers want to have something to show for it, they'll need to clean house or simply throw in the towel because there's little worth saving about Terminator: Salvation.

The film begins in an oddly-bleak 2003, with an equally odd focus on non-canon characters in Marcus Wright (Worthington), a prisoner with some familial issues, and a cancer-stricken doctor (Helena Bonham Carter) whom he kisses to "taste death." This prologue, already preceded by an overlong, spell-it-all-out-for-you back story, is off-setting for someone going in expecting a Terminator movie. It is this balance—so crucial to prequels, remakes, reboots, and everything else this decade has to offer—which McG and co. fail to manage. Their film has no identity, dipping into previous material and replicating its competitors without any rhyme or reason. In short, McG is an incompetent director, and the writers shouldn't be too proud of themselves either.

The references to Terminators of old are flat-out obnoxious and ultimately detract from some earnest performances put forth by Worthington, Anton Yelchin, and even the usually stale Christian Bale (playing John Conner at his request), whose militaristic diligence and sharing of the spotlight makes him all the more interesting, at least compared to the Bat-man. Others like Carter and Michael Ironside seem to be there just because they 'feel' right for a Terminator movie. And if Moon Bloodgood (no Linda Hamiltion) represents what a pilot in a post-apocalyptic war looks like then I'm more than ready for Judgment Day. Bring it on!

I can't stress enough how unfortunate this all is because the material is really genuinely interesting. The landscape, the machines and Skynet, even the pretty-faced characters all make something out of nothing in terms of the movie as a whole. More unfortunate is how Danny Elfman's score is anything but inspired and the bleak look is nauseatingly familiar. It's just a waste of time, talent, and Terminators.

When you're dealing with a series that features the greatest action movie of all time, action sequences that amount to passable Children of Men ripoffs will simply not do. McG may have an eye for bubblegum/eye candy action (the Charlie's Angels series), but he is in no way appropriate here. In the end, McG and co. have further bastardized a series which, now in prequel mode, has fallen short of even its respective Star Wars trilogy. In those films, the actors' performances were compromised by over-complicated ideas; this film compromises them with a distinct lack thereof. At least George Lucas had big ideas.


* out of ****

~ Patrick Fryberger



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