I miss NY

Source: Scanners, Goodie Bag

Review: Ninja Assassin

Take it from Shô Kosugi, no, really, that's Shô Kosugi

Even more bland of a title than Fight Club, Ninja Assassin fails to rise above but surely doesn't make any plans to, either. Hearkening back to the '80s and with the modern, stylistic flashes of the Wachowski's, Assassin is shameless B-action to the core, and core is really the right word seeing anything left hanging is cut out and off—for good and for the better.

Cute-faced, international superstar RAIN takes up the titular reigns as Raizo, an ultra-hardcore murdering machine and a man of a few words. A ninja from the cradle, Raizo searches out his tyrannical teacher and Ninjutsu master, marking the vailiant return of Shô Kosugi in Ozunu. Along the way, he finds a partner in strangely-American Interpol Agent Mika (Naomie Harris) as well as a rival in Takeshi (Rick Yune), all the while cutting and slicing everyone and everything in sight. Much like Punisher: War Zone, this over-reliance on ultraviolence eventually becomes numbing, flattening the action sequences to little more than some laughs for the few, actually-excessive moments of gore. But it's the meat of the material (that is, what's still on the body) which makes the movie work. From the opening sequence on, we are plunged headfirst into dangerously cheesy territory (the whole "special heart" running gag is beyond ridiculous), and, fortunately, we're never given a chance to come back up.

Dropping a non-martial artist into this kind of setup is almost appropriate—this is Americanized crap to the Nth degree, but in a very good way—so it is with this that Rain succeeds with flying colors (mostly consisting of a runny, shimmering red). The aforementioned Kosugi is right on the mark as the film's central villain, even having his own little Apocalypse Now-Colonel Kurtz moment in the end. Naomie Harris is great, mostly because how goddamn hot she is (which is even mentioned! Genius!) Action-baddie vet Rick Yune feels underused, though I doubt if that's actually a valid concern. The characters and their cast are a snug fit, showing just how much these simple premises are missed.

In the finale, a great 'Ninja holocaust' takes place, giving the title and the film an entirely new meaning. And, in a way, Ninja Assassin proves to be the swan song of the genre, a true throwback to the cookie-cutter scripts and plot templates that made the B material so much fun. The Wachowski's prove once again that they have something left in the tank, and that the Ninja genre—so lowly and ever-banished—isn't dead, either. Pirates go home.


*** out of ****

~ Patrick Fryberger

Ninja on Ninja Action

This guy always gets me. Hilarious:



Review to follow.

Source: /Film

Dinner

The King of the Fighters, Eagle Path trailers

No comment(s).






Blah.

Source: /Film, AICN

Universal Soldier: Regeneration trailer

Check it:



I love how the trailer pretty much spells it out for you. "THIS GUY and DOLPH LUNDGREN take on VAN DAMME, AGAIN." Looks fun though.

Source: /Film

Review: Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

Load up on guns, bring your friends; the Bad Lieutenant is back.

How you can you be badder than Bad Lieutenant? You can't, really, but by dusting off a rusty Nicolas Cage, dropping him in the by-default trashy post-Katrina New Orleans, and throwing in a whole lot of animals, Werner Herzog's fresh, new take on the ultra-gritty original proves an admirable-enough attempt. Much like its lead performance, Bad Lieutentant: Port of Call New Orleans often tries too hard, but ends up with a sort of inverted (and twisted) sense of humor as a result.

Nicolas Cage takes up the reigns as the titular antihero, this time given a name: Terence McDonagh. With the help of his fat, sleazy partner (Val Kilmer, putting the ease in sleaze!), the two investigate the murders of five Senegalese immigrants ultimately perpetrated by a local gangster (Xzibit). Popping along the way are a handful of interesting characters and a handful more of uninteresting; the main focus here is on Cage doing his 'ol' crazy thang' and interacting with a bunch of sometimes-imaginary animals. With so much on his shoulders, Cage hits some of the marks, misses others, but does proves capable of carrying the craziness. A lot of the time you wish he and Herzog could've gone more hardcore (i.e. Ferrara and Keitel), or simply crazier, but it'll do, Cage, it'll do, Herzog.

What doesn't disappoint is the picture-perfect New Orleans casting. The likes of Kilmer (sleazy + fat = wonderful) and freakshow rejects Fairzua Balk, Brad Dourif, and Michael Shannon bring some much-needed grit to the picture, with Xzibit and Eva Mendes adding some modern flair (there's something so mid-'00s about them—it's uncanny!). But even then, the great cast feels vastly underused, as we spend too much time on unnecessary sideplots and characters in an ultimately overlong picture.

Like with David Lynch's Wild at Heart, as I mentioned—the film feels like it's trying extra hard to be crazy, but when you put forth that much effort, something's got to come out a success. And something does, though not everything, in this remake (it is a remake, not a 'retinkering,' not a 'different take' or whatever else you want to call it, but just another remake) of Abel Ferrara's 1992 original with Harvey Keitel. It's as if Herzog and Cage took a look at the source character and said, "[Let's] shoot him again, his soul is still dancing."


**1/2 out of ****

~ Patrick Fryberger

Ferrara out of Game of Death?

Lame...he's up to his old PMS ways again. Head on over to Kung Fu Cinema for the full story.

Speaking of Ferrara, I'm planning/hoping to see the new Bad Lieutenant tonight...I'm not much on the Herzog bandwagon, and I felt his direct disrespect to Ferrara's original was very much uncalled for, but alas, I am an enthusiast of the cinema, and too much of a sucker to pass up Nicolas Cage doing the ol' crazy thang again. Review to follow.

I'm also hoping to catch The Blind Side tomorrow (huge football fan, and I love me some Sandra!), so I might add my thoughts of that into the op-ed for the month.

Be back soon!

Street Preacher op-ed, 11/19/09

The Street Preacher has been watching many movies, many, many movies...

Since I've been in L.A., I've managed to make the most out of my movie-watching opportunitites, and frankly, it's been a blast. Below, I've listed some the non-reviewed movies I've caught up with (most of them non-action titles) and my thoughts on each of them. Check it out:




Yes, that's Mariah Carey, and yes, she looks better this way.

An Education

Overrated to the Nth degree, it's got niche market written all over it. Old/white/male critics hailed it. I don't. And yes, I will admit that Carey Mulligan displays some acting chops and comes out of the gates kickin,' but she's no Audrey Hepburn and can't save the whole picture. Fact is, I have little interest in 1960s U.K. and the film doesn't succeed in persuading me otherwise. First, it was The Hurt Locker, and now An Education: pretentious overrated bullsheezy thank you very much!

Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire

Easily a contender for best picture, Precious effectively tiptoes the line between being too sappy and too grim; director Lee Daniels somehow holds it all together—really, it's a sight to see. From the over-stylized dream sequences to moments of genuine audience horror (dropping a baby, for one), the rollercoaster is kept within reason and kept within our interest, as well. Newcomer Gabby Sidibe will no doubt be cast off to thankless supporting roles given her weight and appearance, but she definitely made her mark here—a truly 'career' performance. Everything just worked. Even '90s-holdover musicians Mariah Carey and Lenny Kravtiz were perfect, and I mean perfect. Though I would still hold District 9 in higher regard, Precious nonetheless has a better chance of taking home the gold and man, I hope it does. And I must say, Paula Patton should take home the 'most-fine-ass-woman-of-the-year' award for her work here (not to mention Salli Richardson-Whitfield in Black Dynamite - Damn!). She was too hot for the part! Sorry but it's true! ...and I haven't even mentioned Mo'Nique yet! Too much to talk about!

Love Hurts

Terrible. Walked out. The only reason I saw this is because I'm a big fan of Janeane Garofalo. She was wasted, my time and money were wasted, and so was theirs. Love Hurts, but this one kills! Yes, even the jokes about it are bad!

The Blind Side

It was essentially a beefed-up TV movie with some inspired moments and a rock-solid lead performance by Sandra Bullock. Great beginning and end, as well as the end credits, and it more or less knew its foozball. But there were few things The Blind Side just couldn't overcome—one, the racism: even after straight-up mentioning it ("white guilt") and doing its best to nobly approach the material, the basic white-helps-black story couldn't be shaken. There were good blacks and bad blacks, good whites and bad whites, but in the end it was the good whites who helped the good blacks and told all the bad ones off, resulting in one too many cringeworthy moments. Two, the creampuff script: Why not try a little harder, Ms. Bullock (and co.)? Why not try a little harder and write a script that's actually deserving of its source material? One with some grit, one with some questionable morality, and one with the guts to tell it like it is (or was, considering it's based on a true story). And three, the religious aspect: not only was it a near-TV movie, but a Christian one as well. At least Lawrence Taylor was thanked too. Still recommended.

The Road

Bleak for bleak's sake, I honestly felt cold after walking out of the theater—in L.A., after an afternoon showing. This is the accumulation of bleakness that this decade has heaped up, now in its concentrated form. However good the writing, acting, or source material (and of course those post-apoc landscapes), none of it can overcome the fact that the film is simply not entertaining, and is too depressing to be emotionally resonant. A pitiless pit of despair...no thanks.


DTD action releases:



The definition of badass. No, really, look it up.

The Tournament

By no means as 'mean' as Mean Guns, nor as revolutionary as Battle Royale, but still a fun time, The Tournament boasts some inspired moments and ridiculous, nonstop action. Ving Rhames and Robert Carlyle bring the acting cred, Scott Adkins and Sebastien Foucan bring the stunts, and Kelly Hu holds down the fort in the lead role. It's definitely DTD material and won't disappoint the people putting their money towards it. Worth a look for the pictured-above sequence alone.

Blood and Bone

A refreshing surprise, Blood and Bone is the more serious Lionheart we've all been waiting for (i.e. where Fighting failed tremendously). Michael Jai White continues to prove he's the best in the biz when it comes to martial arts cinema, this time bringing gritty, no-frills kinds of fights in a modern urban environment that keeps itself firmly in check (and far away from self-parody). Eamonn Walker delivers a legitimate performance as the film's main villain, and appearances by Julian Sands, Ron Yuan, and especially Gina Carano are a lot of fun. If not for its simplistic title and advertising, I think this could've had a decent theatrical run, at least in bigger cities. With The Dark Knight, Black Dynamite and Bone under his belt, Michael Jai White is making a push to rise above the genre, hopefully pulling it up along with him. More power to him.


That's all for now, and now for all.

~Street Preach out!

Michael Jai White

I was putting together a mini-retrospective on Michael Jai White and Scott Adkins to send to a friend and I came across this...I'm sure I'd scanned over it before, thinking it was just another lame, set-to-Nickelback fan vid, but man, was I wrong. What a dedication to one of cinema's greatest martial arts talents. Please, give it a look. You won't be disappointed:

Review: 2012

But it's only 2009!

With the 'disaster movie' reaching the end of its rope, something had to be done. Y2K, global warming, astrology, monsters-aliens-machines, who really cares anymore? Fortunately for us, genre kingpin Roland Emmerich did, foreseeing this (just like Mayans, word), and won't go quietly. The result is just a few years away: 2012.

I won't even waste time with story because the film sure doesn't and would have no business anyway. The first half is disaster upon disaster upon disaster upon catastrophe, with the respectable C.G.I. painting up the end of the world as one helluva show. Taking himself a little more seriously, but not to any detrimental extent, Emmerich has fine-tuned this beast to perfection. The disaster movie is no longer a complete disaster, at least. The blatant stupidity is smoothed out, the one-liners are mostly tossed, villains are made less villainous/heroism is spread around and amongst a diverse cast at that; all that matters here is the disaster and the death count, and man, is there plenty. I've never seen so many people get killed in a movie. It gets to the point where death is actually uncomfortable to watch again.

Textbook disaster-movie casting. John Cusack spends his 2 1/2 hours trying to escape the movie and save his career, whoa-ing and no-no-no-ing his way through the ride. Like with Deep Impact, black Presidents = disaster and this time it's a serviceable Danny Glover. Names like Amanda Peet, Chiwetel Ejiofor, and Thandie Newton (lookin' mighty fine!) are the perfect failed-but-still-recognizable stardom for this kind of dross. Cameos by Woody Harrelson and George Segal are welcomed. Throw in some holdovers from The Dark Knight as well as disaster-movie specialist Oliver Platt and you've got yourself a fine group to kill off and put through hell.

Also worthy of note is the 'escape from L.A.' —one of the most rollicking, balls to the wall sequences ever put to film (as well as the biggest fuck you to L.A. I've ever seen)...little wonder they released it beforehand. Seeing it on the big screen is...well, beyond words. It's the mass waiting at the end of the term "snowballing," except that it's made of metal and concrete and all things loud and big, grinding your conscious with an inconceivable level of excitement.

If the Rolling Stones claimed to be "A Bigger Bang," as in bigger than the Big Bang, then 2012 is "The Biggest Bang," the biggest bang of them all. It's is an experience more than anything, the kind of thing you'd see at an IMAX when IMAXs screened those random science and nature documentaries. Emmerich has always had traces of talent, and here he knows his strengths and exploits them to the furthest extent, taking the world (and everyone in it) down with him. In the end, the fishies had a field day. Oh Fuck This Shit.


**1/2 out of ****

~ Patrick Fryberger

"The Western of Westerns"

"If they move...kill 'em."

...said by Ernest Borgnine at last night's screening of The Wild Bunch, of which I was in attendance. Showing at The Million Dollar Theater in downtown L.A., practically all of the two-thousand-some seats were filled in support of the classic, game-changing 1969 Western, helmed by the legendary Sam Peckinpah, and starring William Holden and Borgnine.

The sincere speeches given by Borgnine and Peckinpah's daughter, among others, made the event that much more special. The vintage theater—in all ways epic—also added to the momentousness of it all. Throw in the fact that the film never actually received a true premiere, the whole deal was really something else (the widescreen cinemascope was AMAZING as well).

I could go on and on, but I'll get to the film:

I've watched The Wild Bunch a few times now. For me, it used to be all about the end shootout...the tension, the ultraviolence, the almost video game-quality of it all some thirty years in advance—it made the rest of the film seem slow. And then, as I saw more and more movies, I could see the influence it's had all around; every scene seems to foreshadow some theme or moment or just a general feel (i.e. Walter Hill) of a future film. But now, more than anything, when I watch The Wild Bunch I see William Holden, the late, great, and very-much underappreciated William Holden. Holden's success in Hollywood was always pretty spotty...he was never as hard as Lee Marvin, nor as handsome as Frank Sinatra, but somewhere in between, somewhere in the middle. His ultimately tragic pairing with Audrey Hepburn and rampant alcoholism didn't help either, and he died young at the age of 63 under mysterious circumstances. In The Wild Bunch, Holden gets dressed after spending time with a prostitute, and after leaving his friend to die. Having already pawned him off—having already sold what little soul they have left, it seems too late; it's the kind of ingenious scene where the heroes decide to save the day after it's already gone. No dialogue is spoken. Holden just carries the scene on his own.

The looks he gives...that sincere look of self-disgust ripples with me every single time I see it. Behind all the violence and dementia, Peckinpah really knew his stuff, he really knew what it was to be depressed, and so did Holden. His career and personal life flailing, Holden too was saying "fuck it" by taking on the film (according to IMDb, Lee Marvin, Burt Lancaster, James Stewart, Charlton Heston, Gregory Peck, Sterling Hayden, Richard Boone, and Robert Mitchum all rejected the part, all of them!). It's one of the most powerful moments in cinema history and you can't help but feel swept up in it, feeling for the man, for the bunch, and for the movie as a whole. So, if you missed out on the screening, go and watch The Wild Bunch again—you won't be disappointed—and ravish in the legacy it represents.

Kick Ass indeed

UPDATE ON UPDATE ACTION: Back up, apparently.

UPDATE: The Lion at Lionsgate has asked me to take it down, and out of respect, I have. Very un-kick-ass.

The teaser:

Kick-Ass

Trailer Park | MySpace Video

Source: Quiet Earth

"What if this is as good as it gets?"

Source: JohnAugust.com

Review: The Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day

The brothers are back, and this time with a Mexican.

"There was one little problem with their plan," Billy Connolly says at the beginning of The Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day, "it worked." Ten years after the fact, Troy Duffy's scrappy, DTD cult hit The Boondock Saints has finally received a sequel, one which comes in the tradition of Die Harder: bringing more of the same and in a good way. After all the fuss with Duffy and Overnight, it's nice to get back to the basics—back to the Saints, who've got a little more in their wallets this time around.

The story opens and we find the Saints (the serviceable Sean Patrick Flannery and Norman Reedus) over in Ireland with their father (Connolly), living the peasant life and looking like Jesus. But all's not well back in Boston, where a priest is murdered in an 'all-Saints way,' drawing them back for revenge. From there, they meet up with an overtly-stereotypical Mexican (Clifton Collins Jr.), as well as the detectives and neighborhood friends that made the original so endearing. All Saints Day lacks that charmingly low-budget feel of the original, but then again, Duffy is an old dog and new tricks are most surely not in order—even the quick, lazy fadeouts have returned, slicing up the action as if they didn't have enough money to finish the scene. Also returning is the prevalent racism, sexism, and every other 'ism' you can think of, which, admittedly, does gets a little old, but it's not like the film is pretending to be anything else. As Julie Benz proudly remarks, "I'm so smart I make smart people feel retarded."

And speaking of Benz—well on her way to becoming an action goddess—is a riot, and admirably fills the gaping hole left by William Dafoe's near-iconic FBI Agent Paul Smecker, playing an agent of her own in 'Special' Agent Eunice Bloom. A lot of the laughs come from her scenes, especially when paired with the holdover blue-collar detectives. Like Dafoe to the original, Benz makes the movie, and is not to be missed here.

In the end, All Saints Day is quality entertainment, nothing more, and at times, maybe a little less. A harmless sequel which, with its nifty conclusion and great parting shot, should invite a few more, and what of it? The brothers are back, and they're looking to cook up some "gratuitous violence." What more could you ask for? It's not rocket surgery, but it works.


** out of ****

~ Patrick Fryberger

"An intellectual horror movie"

Welcome to November, baby.



Source: Hollywood Elsewhere