A Quickie With Lisa Marie: Earthquake (dir. by Mark Robson)


Since it’s impossible for me to talk about anything without somehow relating it to a movie, I guess it makes sense that my reaction to San Francisco winning the World Series was to write a review of the award-winning, 1974 disaster film Earthquake.  If the Rangers had won, I would have been obligated to write up a review of No Country For Old Men.

But anyway, Earthquake

So, Earthquake is one of those movies from the 70s in which a large group of different characters had to deal with some sort of cataclysmic disaster that could, in theory, have happened in reality as well as up on the movie screen.  There were apparently about 2,000,000 of these films made between 1970 and 1980 and they all had titles like Hurricane, Tornado, Big Fire, Asbestos, Flash Flood, Lava Flow, Khardashian, Avalanche, and, of course, Earthquake.  These movies always featured an “all-star” cast of people that nobody had ever actually heard of and I guess part of the fun was trying to guess who would survive and who would die.  Apparently, they were the 1970s version of Dancing With The Stars.  Call it Dying With Celebrities.

Earthquake is one of best known of these films.  Apparently, it made a lot of money in 1974 and it won Academy Awards for its earthquake effects.  Bleh.  Whatever.  Have you ever really sat down and looked at a list of the movies that have won at least one Academy Award since they first started handing those things out?  Earthquake is like a 6 hour movie and Los Angeles doesn’t start shaking until halfway through.  The Earthquake itself only lasts for 15 minutes and it’s kind of impressive to watch but it’s 15 minutes out of 360.

Before the earthquake hits, we get to meet the usual cross-section of humanity.  Charlton Heston is an architect who is married to Ava Gardner who is the daughter of Heston’s boss, who is played by an actor named Lorne Greene who appears to be younger than either Heston or Gardner.  Heston has a mistress who is played by Genevieve Bujold who is really pretty, sweet, and boring.  Gardner is none of these things but she is a foul-mouthed alcoholic who fakes suicide attempts so I was pretty much on her side as far as the whole love triangle is concerned.  After the Earthquake, Heston and Greene and a bunch of accident-prone extras are stuck in the ruins of sky scraper.  Heston grimaces a lot in this film but you know what?  Say what you will about Charlton Heston’s politics or his clenched-teeth acting style, the man knew how to wear an ascot.

While Heston is torn between Gardner and Bujold (a plot development that reportedly inspired the famous Sartre play No Exit), Richard Roundtree just wants to jump over stuff on his motorcycle.  That’s right — John Shaft is in this movie and we can dig it.  He’s a professional daredevil.  He’s also a surprisingly dull actor.  Who would have guessed that, without a theme song playing, Shaft would turn out to be so boring?  Still, there’s a really cool scene where Roundtree tries to ride his motorcycle through Los Angeles in the middle of the earthquake and the film is worth watching for his all-flare stunt daredevil costume if nothing else.  Plus, Roundtree’s playing a character named Miles here and I like that name.

There’s another subplot.  It involves George Kennedy as a blue-collar cop who does what he has to do to try to maintain the peace before and after the Earthquake.  Bleh.  I mean, Kennedy actually gives a pretty good performance and he’s probably the most likable character in the film but seriously — Bleh.

And finally, this collection of humanity is rounded out by an aspiring actress (played by actress Victoria Principal who, four years earlier, had made history by being the first woman to successfully seduce actor Anthony Perkins and no, I don’t want to go into how I know that) and the psychopathic grocery store manager who is obsessed with her.  The grocery store manager is played by former child evangelist and 70s exploitation icon Marjoe Gortner.  Much as in the later film Starcrash, Gortner projects a remarkably unlikable vibe that works well for his character.  He also has a really bad perm and a mustache and his performance is so sublimely bad that it’s actually pretty good.  As for Principal, her character here is apparently the owner of 1974’s most ginormous afro and, like most women in the 70s, really should have considered wearing a bra.  It’s hard to really judge Principal’s performance because any time she’s on-screen, you just start thinking, “Oh my God, she had sex with Norman Bates but somehow, she thinks she’s too good for Marjoe Gortner?” 

These are the characters that we follow as Los Angeles is destroyed on-screen.  None of them are really much more than cardboard cut outs but there’s something oddly comforting about how shallow and predictable they all are.  Add to that, most of them end up dead so if you do dislike them, you’ll find a lot to enjoy.  You’ll especially enjoy the film’s final few moments unless, like me, you can’t swim and you’re terrified of drowning.  If you’re like me, that scene might give you nightmares. 

Flawed as it may be, I still have to recommend this movie as 1) a time capsule and 2) as a quintessential piece of American camp.  Every line of dialogue, every performance, every image, and every scene in Earthquake simply screams 1974.   I guess the best way to look at Earthquake is to think about it as if the movie’s a time machine.  You might not like where the machine takes you but you’re still going to get into the damn thing and, once you find yourself stuck in Iowa in the year 1835, you’ll find someway to force yourself to be entertained because otherwise, you’re just hanging out in Iowa in 1835.

The New Absolute Worst Freakin’ Commercial Of All Freakin’ Time


The Jeep people can breathe a sigh of relief because their little Marxist propaganda film is no longer the worst freakin’ commercial of all freakin’ time.  No, the title has been stolen by another.

As you watch this commercial, just remember that it’s an advertisement for Citibank that was made after the federal government bailed out them out.  So, if you’re an American citizens, chances are that you paid for this commercial.

Okay, there’s so much about this commercial that is just soooo wrong.  

The guy narrating the commercial has a truly annoying serial killer-style voice.  Seriously, he sounds like Dexter should be dumping his corpse over the side of a boat. 

The woman playing the mother is a terrible actress as evidenced by her notably “enthusiastic” reaction to whatever it is that she eats at the local “deli.” 

There’s also this whole idea of Turkey — which has one of the WORST human rights records on the planet — serving as some sort of 21st century version of post-World War I Paris.  It’s nice of Citibank to let us know that actually, there’s little difference between Istanbul and Queens. 

Also, don’t you just hate the faux casual way that their son is all like, “So, I just decided to send them their old seats from the stadium…”  I mean, get over yourself. 

But ultimately, this commercial fails for one big and obvious reason and there’s a very important lesson here.  This commercial’s failure is ultimately all about casting. 

We’re specifically given two bits of information in this commercial.  First off, we’re told that the narrator’s father has moved to Turkey because he was “transferred” there by whatever soulless corporation it is that he works for.  And we’re also told that his father celebrated his “30-year anniversary” in Turkey.  

And I guess that would all be good and well except for the fact that his father appears to be about 130 years old in the commercial.  Seriously, his company should be paying him a pension as opposed to sending him off to live in one of the most oppressive countries ever.  His wife only appears to be 120 but that still means that she was probably in her 90s when she gave birth to her smug little mass murderer of a son.  He owes her a lot more than just some nasty, germ-filled seats from “the old stadium.”

You know what would have made this commercial a lot more effective and enjoyable?  If the seats from the old stadium had arrived with a few dozen bags of hash taped to the back of them.   And then we could have watched that 130 year-old man try to smuggle them back to the United States just to then get caught right before boarding the flight back home.

Call it Citibank Express.

Lisa Marie’s 100th Post!!!!!!! (She’s really excited…)


Hi there and welcome to my 100th post here on Through the Shattered Lens! 

First off, the picture above is me in the role of Lillith and was created by my sister Erin after I told her about a dream I had in which I was a succubus.  The dream is probably best forgotten but I love the picture.

Anyway, I’ve spent a lot of time obsessing over what would be an appropriate subject for my 100th post.  I’ve always been very good at obsessing.  I’d say that it’s right up there with taking dictation when it comes to things I do well.  Unfortunately, Obsessing doesn’t always look good on a resume but such is life … okay, sorry.  Having an ADD moment.  Where was I?  Oh yeah, my 100th post.

I considered writing about how 2010 should properly be known as the Year of the Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.  I also thought about just using it as the latest installment of Lisa Marie’s Favorite Grindhouse and Exploitation Trailers.  And then I thought maybe I’d have a little fun with Arleigh by writing up a quickie review of the old school disaster film, Earthquake.  See, Arleigh lives off in San Francisco and I live in Texas and he’s kinda been all up in my face lately about how his team apparently beat my team in some sporting event and I was like, “Okay, I’ll just write a movie review about San Francisco getting destroyed in an orgy of cinematic mayhem.”  But then I thought some more and I realized I’d be kinda upset if California floated away with Arleigh on it. 

(Add to that, Earthquake doesn’t actually take place in San Francisco and oh my God, it is such a BORING movie!)

However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there really was only one thing that I truly wanted to do with my 100th post.

I just wanted to say thank you.

There are two things in my life that have betrayed me, never hurt me, and have never failed to bring me happiness: writing and watching movies.  This site has given me the opportunity to do both and for that I will always be so very grateful and appreciative.

For that, I say thank you to Arleigh for not only starting this site but also taking the risk of inviting me to come over and telling me to write about whatever I wanted.  I have to admit that I was nervous when I first posted 10 Reasons Why I Hated Avatar but Arleigh not only allowed me to do so but he actually allowed me to continue posting afterward.  That’s a lot of faith to put into someone you met on twitter and to him, I say thank you for giving me the opportunity and I hope I’ve come close to justifying your faith.

And I also have to say thank you to my fellow writers.  Necromoonyeti and Pantsukudasai56 have introduced me to new worlds of music and anime respectively while SenorGeekus’s undead series idea continues to haunt me. 

Most importantly, I have to thank those of you who have read my previous 99 posts.  I hope that you’ve found something to enjoy in at least a few of them.  And if you haven’t — well, go back and read them again.  I mean seriously — 100 posts.  Surely, I’ve said at least one clever thing somewhere in all of that.

So, regardless of whether you’re a fellow grindhouse/exploitation fan or a lover of Italian horror or a fellow Jean Rollin devotee or one of those people who keeps doing google searches for Lisa Marie Bowman boobs or just someone who stumbled across something I wrote by accident, thank you for reading.  I hope you enjoyed the first 100 and I hope the next 100 will be just as good.

Anyway, in closing, here’s a picture of me being all Black Swan-like.  Can’t wait until that movie comes out…

SF GIANTS ARE THE 2010 WORLD SERIES CHAMP!!!


The drought is over!!

The San Francisco Giants are finally World Series Champions for the very first time since moving to San Francisco from New York. This has been a franchise which I call my very first sport’s love. I love the Niners. I love the Warriors. I love the Sharks. But in the end they’re all just mistresses with the Giants being my one true sport’s love.

This year’s team of rookies, cast-off veterans and just plain weirdos ended up being the perfect mixture to finally bring home the MLB World Series trophy to The City by the Bay. I give much respect to the Texas Rangers for giving the Giants all they can handle and even more. Giants fans should celebrate the team winning and give the Rangers their due. We’re Giants fans and not Phillies, Yankees or Red Sox fans so we tip our hats to the opposing team just as we celebrate our own.

The song by Queen and the lyrics in their song fits this Giants team to a T.

SF GIANTS ARE WORLD SERIES CHAMPS!!!!