Quickie Review: 30 Days of Night (dir. by David Slade)


30 Days of Night is pretty much a siege movie with heavy elements of horror and gore. Siege movies always succeed and fail depending on whether the tension and dread built up from the beginning of the film suspends the audience’s disbelief. Siege films like The Thing and Romero’s Living Dead trilogy works well because right from the get-go we see the tension build not just on the location the cast are put in but within the besieged survivors as well. Survival becomes that much more difficult due to human frailties and an inability to work together bringing the whole group down. The monsters outside are bad enough, but sometimes it’s the survivors themselves who must share the blame.

David Slade’s (director of the excellent Hard Candy) movie does a very good job of bringing the initial tension and dread the comic brought to life in its first chapter. The story takes place in Barrow, Alaska which happens to be located within the Arctic Circle. This location allows it a very peculiar yearly event of having pitch-black night which lasts for a period of an entire month. The movie begins just as the town of Barrow prepares for this month-long prolonged night. Most of the town decide to move down south for the month where the night doesn’t last as long, but enough stay in Barrow to give it a semblance of life and activity.

The build-up of the characters in 30 Days of Night marks one of the weaknesses in the film. There’s barely much characterization in distinguishing one Barrow, Alaskan from another. The lack in character development from all the characters whether human or vampire doesn’t invest the film with anyone we want to see make it out through the night and into dawn. Even Danny Huston, a very underrated and overly capable actor in past films fails to elevate his lead vampire character Marlowe beyond it’s genre trappings. Known only as The Stranger in the credits, Ben Foster’s Renfield-like character edges between caricature and genuine creepiness in his performance. Foster knows he’s in a genre movie and has fun with the character. He’s the only one to truly take on his character and roll with it.

I now get to the subject of the vampires themselves. Most vampire movies seem enamored in portraying the vampire as some sort of seductive, fashion-obsessed, or in the case of the Anne Rice-type anachronistic in their dress, with an unnatural immortality they either live as hedonistically as possible or bemoan their cursed existence. Then there’s the more recent trend that Twilight has brought into the vampire mythology and it’s not good.  There’s never been a true portrayal of the vampire as a pure, hunger-driven monster with an appetite to match their status as one of folklore and legend’s top-tier boogeymen. Slade goes for speed and agility in his vampires instead of hypnotizing and mesmerizing their victims. The vampires in this movie owes much to the frenetic and over-amped infecteds of 28 Days Later.

The attack itself and the subsequent siege worked well enough in the early going. There were some great overhead shots of the town’s people losing it’s fight during the initial feeding frenzy as the camera shoots the scene high overhead. The only thing Slade had a misstep in terms of the siege itself was after those first couple of nights. The rest of the 30 days didn’t seem to show enough desperation on the faces and bodies of the last few survivors. Really, the only way the audience even knew a couple weeks have passed were the caption telling them how many days into the month-long night has passed. I think with some better editing and a better sense of structure in the middle section of the movie to show time actually progressing the movie would’ve been better on so many levels.

All in all, 30 Days of Night was just good enough to be a fun watch. The premise itself was original and put a new spin on the vampire genre that has rarely been tapped. The performances were pretty average with no one bringing the whole film down with a misstep performance or raising the bar with a great one. The final product had a chance to be something great, but just ends up being a good and original take on the vampire story with elements of Night of the Living Dead.

6 Trailers For Clint Jun Gamboa


As I type this, I am soooooooooooooooooooooooo ticked off.  I just finished watching Thursday’s episode of American Idol and I now know that Clint Jun Gamboa did not make the final 13.  Before trying out for this season of American Idol, Gamboa worked on the soundtrack for the infamous Tommy Wiseau film The Room.  That’s right, the man who wrote “Crazy” and “Baby You And Me,” will not be competing for a chance to be the next American Idol.  That’s just wrong.  What’s even worse is that they sent Gamboa on his way without ever once acknowledging The Room.  They could have at least given him a plastic spoon.

So, Clint Jun Gamboa, if you’re reading this, this latest edition of Lisa Marie’s Favorite Grindhouse and Exploitation Trailers is dedicated to you.  Le monde est chié, Gamboa. Bonne chance.

1) A Boy And His Dog (1975)

Because it’s for Clint, let’s start out with a trailer for a classic, 1975’s A Boy and His Dog.  Clint, if you’re feeling down — well, I don’t know you well enough to know if this movie will help or not.  It’s kinda one of those you either get or you don’t. 

2) Hi, Mom (1970)

Yes, I know.  The title makes it sound like a prequel to the Room.  “Oh hai, mom.”  Actually, it’s just a very early film from director Brian DePalma.  The movie also stars a very young and very unknown Robert De Niro.

3) The Harrad Experiment (1973)

This is one of those films that I’ve got on DVD but I need to rewatch it so I can review it.  I do remember that the DVD transfer was so bad that it actually started out with one of those “this is made from the best copy we could find — it’s not our fault!” messages. 

4) Two Thousand Maniacs (1964)

Yes, here is the trailer for the groundbreaking exploitation film from Herschel Gordon Lewis.  Clint, this blood feast is for you.

5) Shriek of the Mutilated (1974)

I’ve got this one on DVD though I haven’t managed to stay awake through the entire film yet.  But I just love that title.

6) Mad Doctor of Blood Island (1969)

Sadly enough, the Perfectly Sane, Kinda Boring Doctor of Blood Island was located just a block away but everyone was too busy with the mad doctor to notice.

Stay supple, Clint!

A Quickie With Lisa Marie: The Robe (dir. by Henry Koster)


As part of my mission to view every film — good or bad — ever nominated for best picture, I spent last night watching 1953’s The Robe (which was nominated for best picture but lost to From Here To Eternity.)  The Robe is an old school biblical epic, the type of film that used to regularly get nominated for best picture but which you don’t see much of anymore.  If you’re wondering why that genre hasn’t stood the test of time, I’d suggest watching The Robe.

Richard Burton stars as Marcellus, a womanizing Roman centurion who falls in love with young, pure noblewoman Diana (Jean Simmons).  Unfortunately, Diana is set to marry the decadent Caligula (Jay Robinson).  (Yes, that Caligula…)  Burton’s rivalry with Caligula leads to him being reassigned to Jerusalem where he not only witnesses the crucifixion but also wins Jesus’ robe in a dice game.  However, Marcellus soon finds himself being haunted by nightmares of the crucifixion and he discovers that he can’t even wear the robe without having a seizure.  His slave, Demetrius (played by musclebound Victor Mature) has secretly become a Christian and steals The Robe before disappearing into the Holy Land.  As Marcellus, who believes that only by destroying the robe can he free himself from his guilt, searches for Demetrius, he is reunited with Diana and, since this is an old school biblical epic, he also ends up converting as well.  Unfortunately, he does all this around the same time that Caligula becomes Emperor and (in this film if not in actual history) begins to persecute the early Christians.

The Robe was the first film to made in “Cinemascope” and, while that may have been an amazing development back in 1953, when watched today, it’s obvious how much of the film is really just made up of filler designed to show off the new process.  Again, it may have been amazing at the time but today, it just seems like a slow movie.  Even more importantly, The Robe itself is so reverent and respectful of its subject that it’s just not that interesting.  Speaking as a nonbeliever, I’ve still sometimes feel that a lot of contemporary films make it a point to ridicule Christians because they’re an easy target.  Unlike a certain other world-wide religion, most Christians aren’t going to blow you up just because you featured an image of Jesus in your movie.  However, movies like The Robe were not only extremely reverent and respectful but they went out their way to let you know how reverent and respectful they were being.  The result is a film that lack any hint of nuance or anything that might actually challenge the audience.  It’s like Avatar with Jesus. 

Since he’s best known for being an alcoholic and marrying Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton might seem like an odd choice to play an idealistic Christian martyr.  And, quite frankly, he is.  Throughout the film, he’s visibly uncomfortable and, quite frankly, he didn’t have the legs necessary to pull off the ancient Roman look either.  Jean Simmons is also stuck playing a stock character — the virtuous maiden.  As with a lot of the old school biblical epics, the lead characters are so boring that you can’t help but feel they had more fun as pagans.  Meanwhile, poor Victor Mature wanders through the film struggling to show anything resembling emotion.   I mean, he tries so hard that its impossible not to like him.  At the very least, The Robe proves that any film featuring Victor Mature will have some sort of camp value. 

(As I watched The Robe, I kept thinking about a comment that Groucho Marx supposedly made.  Apparently, he said he wouldn’t watch any movie starring Victor Mature because “I won’t watch any movie where the guy’s tits are bigger than the girl’s.”)

The Robe does feature some interesting supporting performances from several wonderful B-movie character actors.  Jay Robinson is obviously having the time of his life playing the Emperor Caligula.  Robinson’s version isn’t quite as effective as Malcolm McDowell’s but Robinson is a  lot more fun to watch.  Richard Boone is effectively slovenly in the role of Pilate and there’s a nice little throw-away scene where Pilate absent-mindedly washes his hands twice.  Meanwhile Ernest Thesiger (who played Dr. Pretorious in the Bride of Frankenstein) is an oddly benevolent Emperor Tiberius while Michael Rennie, the alien from the original The Day the Earth Stood Still, plays none other than St. Peter.  Even Jeff Morrow (from This Island Earth) has a small role.

Like most of the old school Hollywood biblical epics, The Robe seems pretty hokey when viewed today and I get the feeling it probably seemed hokey when it was first released back in 1953.  Still, I remember that my Grandma Meehan used to love to watch these movies whenever they would show up on television.  She would have deep theological debates with the images that flickered across the screen.   I can still remember spending multiple Easters listening to her argue with The Ten Commandments.  I don’t know if Grandma ever saw The Robe but I do know that she believed that the Holy Tunic was presently located in France and not at the Cathedral of Trier in Germany.  Seriously, you did not want to question her on this point. 

To be honest, watching this type of film is always an odd experience for me.  Up until recently, I described myself as a “fallen Catholic” and I always felt so proud of myself afterward.  I could spend hours telling you why I no longer believed in the faith of my childhood and I could get quite smug about it.  I guess I still can but, as of late, I’ve discovered that humility goes well with a lack of faith.  I’ve also been forced to admit that when you’re raised Catholic, you’re a Catholic for life regardless of whether you believe in the Holy Trinity or not.  If pressed, I guess I’d call myself “an agnostic Catholic.”  I’m the type of nonbeliever who still feels the need to go to confession after a long weekend.  It’s not so much that I doubt my doubt as much as I wish that I could still go back to a time in my life when I actually could have faith without feeling like I was in denial.  So, even as I openly scoff at these films, there’s always that small part of my heart that wants to embrace the film in all of its simplistic and hokey glory.

That said, it’s also true that The Robe is a lot easier to resist than a film like Pasolini’s The Gospel According to Saint Matthew or, for that matter, The Exorcist.

A Quickie With Lisa Marie: Crossfire (dir. by Edward Dmytryk)


I recently decided that I wanted to watch and review every single movie ever nominated for the Academy Award for best picture.  As part of that mission, I recently rewatched one of my favorite also-rans, 1947’s Crossfire.

Crossfire is a message movie disguised as a B detective flick.  A group of soldiers who have just returned from World War II decide to get together for a drink.  At the bar, they run into a civilian named Joseph Samuels (Sam Levine).  The soldiers end up going back to Samuels’s apartment and the next morning, Samuels is found dead.  Obviously, he was killed by one of the soldiers but which one.  Suspicion falls on the meek (and missing) Floyd Bowers (Steve Brodie) but police detective Finlay (Robert Young) and Sgt. Peter Keeley (Robert Mitchum) both (correctly) suspect that Samuels was actually murdered by the far more outspoken and imposing Montgomery (Robert Ryan).  It quickly becomes obvious that Montgomery is an anti-Semite who killed Samuels solely because he was Jewish.  However, neither Finlay or Keeley can prove it.  The film quickly becomes a darkly intense duel between these three men as Finlay and Keeley attempt to trick Montgomery into implicating himself while Montgomery attempts to further frame Bowers for the murder.

Before Crossfire, director Edward Dmytryk specialized in making low-budget “B” movies and he brings that noir, near-grindhouse sensibility to Crossfire.  As a result, Crossfire is a one of those rare “message” films that is actually entertaining.  Only a few times does the film start to feel preachy and luckily, Robert Mitchum is there being his usual cynical self.  If anyone could deflate the pompous nature of the mid-40s message movie, it was Robert Mitchum.  The film says, “Love one another.”  Mitchum replies, “Baby, I just don’t give a damn,” and he keeps things from getting too heavy-handed.  Mitchum is one of three Roberts to star in this film.  Robert Young plays the police inspector with just the right amount of world-weary indignation while Robert Ryan is a force of nature as the film’s brutal murderer.  Don’t get me wrong.  You can pretty much peg Ryan as a killer from the first minute he shows up on-screen.  If Mitchum and Young smartly underplay their roles, Ryan goes the exact opposite direction.  He’s an obvious brute but he’s also totally believable.  You look at his character and it’s not difficult to imagine him passing the collection plate at Westboro Baptist Church.  As well, Crossfire also features an excellent supporting term by one of my favorite noir actresses, the great and wonderful Gloria Grahame.  She plays Bowers’ married girlfriend and gives a compellingly, real performance that suggests that maybe Hollywood in the 40s wasn’t quite as clueless as we all like to assume.

Crossfire was nominated for Best Picture of 1947 but it lost to another film about anti-Semitism, Elia Kazan’s Gentleman’s Agreement.  (Oddly enough, both Kazan and Dmytryk would end up naming names during the McCarthy Era.)  Like Gentleman’s Agreement, Crossfire was based on a novel.  However, in the original novel, the victim was not Jewish but instead was gay.  However, back in the 1940s, the Hollywood Production Code specifically forbade any open depiction of homosexuality and so, the crime went from being motivated by homophobia to anti-Semitism.

Review: Drive Angry 3D (dir. by Patrick Lussier)


Every year there’s always a handful of films which gets little to no love from both critics and audiences. These are titles that for one reason or another get left by the wayside. Some say these films are awful. Some say they’re weren’t in the theaters long enough for people (or even critics) to notice. Yet, these films will get it’s vocal and ardent supporters and fans who sees through all the flaws and warts and find a rough gem that really entertains. One such film for 2011 is the supernatural-action film from filmmaker Patrick Lussier simply titled, Drive Angry 3D. Yes, it’s a 3D film and not one of those post-conversion deals but shot from start to finish in 3D.

Drive Angry 3D harkens back to the good, dirty era of grindhouse films. Films with simple storylines and even simpler dialogue. They were made on the cheap (though with a budget of 35-40million this film definitely not low-budget) and cramed full of everything that could be exploited to bring in the audience: sex, violence and lots of nudity. Lussier’s film definitely has all three in abundance. With Nicolas Cage headlining a cast of veteran genre actors and a spitfire of a female sidekick, Drive Angry 3D was a grindhouse film at its very core.

The story could’ve come from any number of revenge films of the 1970’s. Cage plays John Milton (I kid you not) who escapes Hell itself to seek vengeance on the Satanic cult and their leader Jonah King (Billy Burke sporting a slithery Southern accent that’s one step over excessive but oh so fun to hear) for killing his daughter and kidnapping his baby granddaughter. A baby to be sacrificed by Jonah King and his followers to usher in an era of Hell on Earth. Just going over that brief synopsis one could just imagine this film being made in the 1970’s with country rock playing in the background.

Along the way in his quest for vengeance and redemption, Milton comes across Piper (played with crackling gusto by the lovely Amber Heard in the shortest Daisy Dukes I’ve ever seen on film) who becomes his partner in his quest through some shared encounters which shows Piper not as a damsel-in-distress but a young woman who can kick ass as much as Milton does. The fact that she didn’t appear in any form of nakedness throughout the film was a sign that she wasn’t a woman to be messed with.

While it Milton and Piper going after King and his Satanic-cult inbreds wasn’t enough action for one film Lussier and screenwriter Todd Farmer (he also played the role of Piper’s philandering fiancee who gets knocked around a bit by almost everyone) decided to bring in the character of the Accountant (played with an almost childish glee by William Fichtner) who has followed Milton from Hell to bring him back and an item that was taken from Lucifer’s own stash of goodies. Watching the Accountant play someone not used to being human play-act as one definitely became some of the funnier scenes in the film. That’s also why this film was such a fun ride to sit through. Everyone in the cast seemed to be having a blast playing their characters to the hilt. Even David Morse in the role of a Webster as the aging sidekick of Milton’s before his trip to Hell looked to be into his role.

But enough of trying to explain the story and how the actors performed. Drive Angry 3D is all about action and action of every kind. This film oozed action from its very being. We had car chases with some of the most beautiful classic muscle cars in existence. We first get to witness Piper and her 1969 Dodge Charger 440 R/T then for the last third of the film twin 1971 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 454’s. This film is such a throwback to the car chase action films of the 70’s like Vanishing Point and Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry. It wasn’t just car chase action to be had and experienced. This film didn’t shy away from some very violent and up-close gunfights. One particular gunfight may just go down in history as one of the best as Cage’s character (still fully dressed) shoots it out with some of King’s thugs while having sex with the local waitress, smoking a cigar and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in one hand. Milton was one multitasking badass.

This film was all about excess and it’s why it held such an appeal to those who have seen it and have raved about it. It didn’t pay homage to grindhouse, but ended up as being one of the very films it tried and succeeded to emulate. Forget the gloss veneer of the film. A film doesn’t have to be dated and cheap-looking to be grindhouse. Both Patrick Lussier and Todd Farmer wanted to make a badass film about a badass character doing badass shit and they succeeded.

Even the 3D used for this film actually worked. It helped that the crew actually used real 3D cameras to film every scene instead of doing post-conversion work of regular camera filmed scenes. Yes, there were scenes where things were made to come straight at the audience but it wasn’t so distracting as to ruin the experience. In fact, I would say that 3D added to this film’s appeal and fun. One reviewer had said that 3D should be reserved for use in films such as Drive Angry 3D. I won’t disagree.

Will this film be for everyone? I don’t think it is. Not everyone is ready for extreme excess of badassery from Cage, Heard and Fichtner.

Drive Angry 3D will be seen as a failure by those not involved in its production or by those who saw it and enjoyed it. There’s some truth in that, but I do think that this film succeeded in doing everything that was promised by its filmmakers and producers. It’s not an Oscar-baiting film or even one to be seen in the yearly film festivals and circuits. What this film has become was one hell of a ride that was all about kicking ass, taking names (screwing the local waitress while waiting for the ambush to come) and driving beautiful, fast cars. I do think that Lussier’s film looks like a cult-classic in the making as time passes and those who saw it while it was in the theaters should be proud to say that they saw it and liked it when most people couldn’t be bothered.

Now, where’s my pistol, cigar and bottle of Jack Daniels.

A Quickie With Lisa Marie: One Million Years B.C. (directed by Don Chaffey)


So, last night, I was talking Oscar fashion over on twitter and, at one point, I somehow ended up promising that if I was ever nominated for an Oscar, I would wear an outfit based the fur bikini that Raquel Welch wore in the 1966 film One Million Years B.C.  Well, everyone seemed to think that this was a pretty good idea on my part but it made me realize that I’ve never actually seen this movie.  As I was already planning on going to Fry’s to buy the Criterion edition of Fish Tank, I decided to buy One Million Years B.C. as well.  When I returned home, I kinda watched it.

I say “kinda” because One Million Years B.C. is probably one of the most draggy movies ever made and my mind wandered considerably whenever there wasn’t a dinosaur on-screen.  The movie opens with a really pompous sounding narrator who explains 1) that One Million Years B.C. was a long time ago and 2) not much else.  I mean, honestly, Mr. Narrator, I could have figured out we were dealing with prehistory just from the fact that there’s a bunch of dinosaurs wandering around.  Anyway, the movie itself is about a caveman (played by a nicely rugged actor named John Richardson) who is exiled from his own savage tribe but who eventually ends up with Raquel Welch’s tribe.  But then his new tribe gets sick of him and decides to exile him as well.  This time, Welch goes off with him and they eventually join Richardson’s old tribe which then goes to war with Welch’s old tribe and then finally, a volcano explodes.  Oh, and there’s a lot of dinosaurs wandering around as well.  On rare occasions, they attack the cave people but, for the most part, they just put out the same aloof vibe as my cat does right after he eats.

Most of the film’s dinosaurs were created through stop motion animation and they’re fun to watch.  However, for me, what truly made the film was a giant turtle that pops up about 30 minutes in.  It’s trying to make its way back to the ocean and, for its trouble, a bunch of little cave people insist on throwing spears at it.  But the turtle just kinda looks back at them and shrugs.  What a cool turtle!

There’s a certain type of viewer — and we all know the type — who will complain that One Million Years B.C. commits the sin of 1) having dinosaurs existing at the same time of cavemen and 2) having all the different dinosaurs living together at the exact same time.  And to those people, I think it’s high time that everyone just finally says, “Shut the fuck up.”  I mean, seriously, instead of nitpicking every little cinematic detail, why don’t you concentrate on losing some weight before you drop dead of a heart attack? 

Just a suggestion.

Oddly enough, this film has a weird connection to the James Bond film series in that, on the basis of their work here, both John Richardson (who also starred in Mario Bava’s classic Black Sunday) and Raquel Welch came close to being cast in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service.  However, the roles ended up going to George Lazenby and Diana Rigg instead.  (Welch was also nearly cast as a Bond girl in Diamonds are Forever.)   Though neither Welch nor Richardson ever became a part of the 007 franchise, Robert Brown (who plays Richardson’s father here) later played the role of M in a handful of Bond films.

Film Review: Black Demons (directed by Umberto Lenzi)


(Hi!  This is actually a review that I wrote a while ago for an anthology of B-movie reviews that a “friend” of mine was planning on self-publishing.  Much like this site, the book would be made up of different reviewers giving each film their own individual spin.  We were going to call it Dinner and a Cannibal Movie.  I came up with that title, by the way.  Unfortunately, the project was eventually abandoned but not before I’d written a handful of reviews.  Here’s one of the shorter ones, for Umberto Lenzi’s Black Demons.  Oh, and be warned: Because of the nature of the project it was written for, this review is full of spoilers.)

Black Demons.

My ex-roommate Kim and I have a long-standing argument concerning this film.  I claim that it’s an Umberto Lenzi zombie film that was made in 1991, long after Italian zombie cinema had run its course.  It is also my contention that we saw this movie in October of 2004.  Admittedly, we were performing our own private pagan ritual during most of the film’s 90-minute running time but we still paid enough attention to not be impressed by it.  Kim, on the other hand, argues that we never watched Black Demons and that, furthermore, there is no such film as Black Demons.  I suspect that a combination of her own rather prodigious liberal guilt and the film’s own utter banality has led her to repress the memory of it in much the same way as the protagonist of a Dario Argento thriller will often forget a key detail of a murder he has witnessed.

            Black Demons tells the story of five young people who find themselves on the bad end of some black magic.  For reasons that are never really made all that clear (largely because the entire cast has a bad habit of mumbling their dialogue), English Kevin is in Brazil with his American girlfriend, Jessica.  Tagging along with them is Jessica’s half-brother, a morose young man who is recovering from a nervous breakdown and who has the rather unfortunate name of Dick.  Along with having a vaguely incestuous relationship with Jessica (whether this was intentional on Lenzi’s part or just a case of bad acting is up for debate), Dick is also fascinated by black magic and has a tendency to wander off by himself a lot.  This leads to a lot of scenes of Kevin and Jessica repeatedly shouting, “Dick!  Dick!” as they search for him.  This provided both me and Kim a lot of giggly amusement if nothing else.

            Anyway, Dick attends a black magic ceremony that he records on audio tape and then proceeds to obsessively listen to whenever the movie needs an excuse to bring on a few zombies.  The morning after the ceremony, our threesome’s jeep breaks down out in the middle of nowhere.  Luckily, two hikers – Jose and his girlfriend, Sonya – come along and invite everyone to spend the night at Jose’s villa.  As luck would have it, there’s a big cemetery located right behind the villa and idiot Dick decides to play his little audio tape right in the middle of it. 

            (I think Kim may have exclaimed, “God, what a dick,” at this point but she denies it along with the movie itself.)

            Needless to say, this causes six zombies to rise from their graves and the usual hilarity follows.  It turns out that these zombies were, in life, African slaves who rebelled against their white masters and were put to death as a result.  Their eyes were plucked out as they died, though this doesn’t seem to keep them from being able to see once they come back to life.  It turns out that the mission of these six black zombies is to kill six white people to even the score.  Unfortunately, most of this is explained by Jose who has such an incredibly thick accent that it is next to impossible to understand a word he says.  Therefore, the plot may actually be a bit more complex than I realize.

            Though, I doubt it.

            As Kim and I immediately realized, the zombies need to kill six white people.  Yet there are only five white people in the film.  Whether this was a case of lazy writing or maybe an actor walked off the film at the last minute, I do not know.  However, Lenzi ingeniously handles this problem by killing an anonymous, never-seen white guy offscreen and then having our heroes hear about it on the radio.  Still, you have to wonder why these zombies, seeking vengeance for being slaves in their past life, would only feel the need to kill six white people.  Sure, it works out in the sense that there are six zombies and this way they only have to kill one person apiece.  But still, it seems like they’re letting the white race off a little bit easily here.  Indeed, if the solution to all of the world’s racial strife is simply to kill off the five, uninteresting losers in this film, then I have to side with the zombies on this one.

            Unfortunately, Kevin and Jessica aren’t willing to sacrifice themselves for world harmony and insist on surviving until the end of the movie.  Kevin eventually figures out that the zombies can be stopped by a well-thrown Molotov cocktail.  How exactly he figured this out isn’t really clear.  Perhaps he saw it in another, better zombie film.  (Like Lucio Fulci’s Zombie 2, for instance.  Unfortunately, beyond the Molotovs, the bad acting of the female lead, and a grisly fetish for showing eyeballs getting damaged, these two films have little in common.)  Kevin’s plan works though not before the tragic ends of Sonya, Jose, the phantom sixth white guy, and yes, even Dick.  Leaving behind a bunch of smoldering slaves, Jessica and Kevin flee the villa for a world still torn apart with racial strife and anger.  Thanks a lot, guys!

            Almost all good horror is to be found in subtext.  Such as, Dracula may be pretty intimidating with his fangs and his blood drinking and all, but it’s as a symbol of unbridled lust and secret fantasies that he’s been able to become and remain an icon for over a century.  And while Frankenstein might be frightening to look at, his true power comes from being a sign of what happens when man attempts to play God.  In an admittedly less literary vein, what else is a truly scary slasher but proof positive over how little control we truly have over our own future?  Strictly on paper, Black Demons should be a film awash in powerful subtext.  After all, these zombies wouldn’t even exist if they hadn’t been enslaved and treated like property by the ancestors of the film’s heroes.  In a world that is still struggling (and failing) to deal with the legacy of racism, a film in which a bunch of slaves come back to life and seek vengeance on only whites should have quite a bit to say.   Perhaps if Black Demons had been directed by Fulci or Deodato, it would have done just that.  However, this film was directed by Umberto Lenzi which means that it ends with Kevin assuring Jessica that their nightmare is over with the camera ominously (and, quite frankly, obscenely) pans over to a bunch of black children playing on the side of the road, basically equating those living children with a bunch of bloodthirsty, vengeful zombies on the basis of the color of their skin.  Whether Lenzi realized what he was doing or not, this one camera movement manages to be a hundred times more offensive than anything found in Cannibal Apocalypse.

Perhaps, in this case, Kim had the right idea.

Review: Unknown (dir. by Jaume Collet-Serra)


In 2009 Liam Neeson began a new phase of his career as an actor. Before 2009 he was always put into roles as the father figure and mentor to a younger protagonist. He did quite well in handling these roles. Most of the time he was the only good thing about the films he was in and it was due to how he handled the supporting role given to him. But 2009 changed everything as Liam Neeson arrived on the film scene as a bonafide action hero in his role as a former CIA Special Activities Division operative in the action-thriller, Taken. That film surprised many and Neeson’s badass portrayal of a father out to save his daughter opened the eyes of many filmgoers who always saw him as the calm, wise elder. He has taken on the mantle of older, action-hero characters from Harrison Ford who lived off and became rich doing roles such as the one in Taken.

Two years later we have another film where we get to see Liam Neeson in another role which cements his place in the action-hero pantheon. Also like Pierre Morel’s film, this one takes place in Europe and directed by another European filmmaker trying to make a name for himself in Hollywood, Jaume Collet-Serra. It would be disingenious to say that Collet-Serra had it in him to direct a film as tight and fast-moving as Unknown. His two Hollywood productions were the remake of the classic horror film, House of Wax, and the underappreciated horror film from 2009, Orphan. With this new action-thriller, Unknown, Collet-Serra and Neeson create a film which owes much of its film dna to Hitchcock and his mistaken-man classic, North by Northwest. I would also say that this film also owes much of its action and characters to one of the early 1990’s best sci-fi action films, Paul Verhoeven’s Total Recall.

The film begins with Neeson’s character, Dr. Martin Harris, and his wife Liz (played by Mad Men‘s January Jones) arriving in Berlin to attend a biomedical conference. Right from the start Neeson makes us believe in Harris being an everyman. The good professor doesn’t seem the alpha male-type. But after certain seemingly random circumstances and events puts Harris in a coma for four days we begin to see signs and glimpses that Neeson’s character may have more to him than meets the eye.

It’s when Harris’ awakens from his coma that the meat of the film’s story begins. We know going in that Neeson’s character knows he’s not crazy and that someone out there has made things appear as if he is becoming insane. Maybe the accident in the beginning of the film have given us a false perspective on the film. What we might be seeing could be a manifestation of Harris’ mental breakdown from the accident and subsequent coma. But little clues in the film’s dialogue keeps things vague, but not so much that our initial stance that Harris’ is being manipulated won’t be the final endgame.

It is the endgame in the film which may make or break the whole production for some people. The screenplay by Oliver Butcher and Stephen Cromwell is not the strongest out there and it tries to be too complex with its red herrings when trying to keep it simple would’ve sufficed. One could almost sense that the two writers were trying to be too Hitchcock that they lost sight of how Hitchcock’s films were simple affairs which only appeared to be complex. Yet, despite some necessary leaps of logic that audiences needed to make to continue believing in the film, Unknown manages to keep the core story moving forward to it’s inevitable conclusion.

The performances by everyone involved is what keeps this film from spiralling out of Collet-Serra’s capable hands. One would almost certainly point out the strong work by Neeson as the Harris. January Jones’ Liz Harris, at first, seemed like an extension of her Betty Draper character from Mad Men, but as the story moves forward we get to see more layers of personalities in her character to make her interesting beyond the dutiful and supportive wife. But the standout performance outside of Neeson has to go to Diane Kruger as Gina, the taxi driver who was involved in Neeson’s character getting in his accident in the beginning of the film.

Kruger arguably is one of Hollywood’s classic beauty, but she has an ability to actually keep that beauty in check with her acting that we believe her to be the “everywoman” in some of the roles she plays. Beauty doesn’t come into the Gina character’s personality. Kruger does a great job of playing the pawn in a much larger game being played on Neeson’s character. Her reluctance to help him gradually crumbles as she soon realizes that her own safety and survival is now inextricably linked to unraveling the mystery of who Martin Harris really is.

Unknown is one of those films that actually has an advantage being released in the so-called dead season which runs from January and into March. It’s a film season when studios put out films they have no faith in being a major blockbuster which means summer and Holiday season release are out. It’s not prestigious enough to be put out in the Fall and early Winter. But as a piece os well-done escapist fare it’s perfect for this so-called dead season. Jaume Collet-Serra has shown that even when working from an average screenplay he knows how to get the best out of his cast to sell the film to the audience. He also has a firm grasped on pacing and how to handle action sequences.

In the end, the film still loves or dies by how the audience reacts to Liam Neeson’s character. While his Martin Harris is not the Bryan Mills from Taken, by the time the final scene fades to black we begin to see how similar the two characters really are and how much they share. Until the big name films start dropping in beginning in March (blockbuster season seem to come earlier and earlier with each passing year), Unknown is one of those films that should help make this early months of the film season more entertaining than it usually is in year’s past.

As an aside, for those who know their films would understand why I say that, in addition to this film having aspirations of being Hitchcockian, Unknown definitely borrows or has been influenced by some of the story and character developments of Verhoeven’s Total Recall. I almost half-expected for a half-mutant seer named Kuato to make an appearance to explain it all to Neeson’s ccharacter.

I Love You, Canada! And here’s six trailers to prove it…


 I think I’ve been a little bit too hard on Canada as of late.  I mean, sure — our northern neighbor did give us Paul Haggis and Vermont.  However, Canada also gave us Degrassi: The Next Generation, Jason Reitman, Atom Egoyan, David Cronenberg, Denys Arcand, and my friend Lindsay Dianne.  So, I’m here to say right now: I love Canada!  And in order to show that love, this week’s edition of Lisa Marie’s Favorite Grindhouse and Exploitation Trailers is dedicated to films produced up in Canada.

1) Sudden  Fury (1975)

I’ve never seen this movie and I don’t know much about it beyond the fact that it was made in Canada.  Looking at the cast list at the end of the trailer, I don’t see any familiar names.  But the trailer fascinates me because it somehow manages to be intriguing and dull at the same time. 

2) Rats (1982)

I haven’t actually seen  this one either and I’m kind of glad for that because seriously, I am scared to death of rats.  I remember this one time when I was little, I was visiting my grandpa’s place in Arkansas and he lived in this big  three-story house out in the country.  And I was sitting out back in this swing when suddenly, this rat jumped out of  a  third story window and it landed right next to the swing and broke its neck and died with its tail twitching as I watched.  I still have nightmares about that.  Anyway, this film is apparently not to be confused with Bruno Mattei’s Rats: The Nights of Terror. 

3) Humongous (1983)

This is one of the several million slasher films that ended up being made in Canada by American film companies looking for a tax shelter.  Just imagine how much shorter the trailer would have been in the movie had simply been called Huge.  Incidentally, the film was directed by Paul Lynch, the same guy who did the original Prom Night.

4) Fast Company (1979)

Arleigh would never let me live it down if I did a post and didn’t include a trailer for a David Cronenberg film.  So, here you go.  Now, to be honest, this trailer is only interesting if you know that 1) it’s for a film directed by David Cronenberg and that 2) he made this in between making Rabid and The Brood.  Now I know that this trailer probably screams out, “David Cronenberg just needed the work,” but Cronenberg has actually spoken with a good deal of fondness about  this film.  I personally haven’t seen it but I guess if anyone could somehow make a movie about drag racing exciting, it would be David  Cronenberg.

5) Videodrome (1983)

Here’s a more representative example of what we think about when  we think about Cronenberg.

6) Out of the Blue (1980)

Originally, I was going to end this with the 2 Cronenberg films but then I remembered that Dennis Hopper’s Out Of The Blue was a Canadian production and there were simply no way I couldn’t end with that film.  Out of the Blue is, quite simply put, one of the greatest films ever made.  I’ve been meaning to write a review of it for a while now but it’s been difficult for me to know where to begin because, in many ways, viewing Out of the Blue was as much of a personal experience for me as watching Black Swan. 

Lisa Marie Does The Roommate (dir. by Christian E. Christiansen)


Because of all the snow and ice that hit Dallas earlier this month, I’ve been running a week behind when it comes to going to the movies.  For instance, I was planning on seeing The Roommate when it first opened but, because of the weather, I didn’t get a chance to see it until this previous Saturday.  I ended up seeing the movie at the AMC Valley with Jeff, my sister Erin, my friend Evelyn and her boyfriend Steven, Evelyn’s younger sister Emma, and finally Katrina, who works with my sister Erin. 

Now, you may be asking — why were so many people required just for me to see one movie?  Well, The Roommate didn’t look like a film to be seen alone.  It looked like a film that was meant to be  seen in a group of people.  The Roommate looked like the type of campy, silly little film that demanded some audience participation.  At least, that’s what it looked like.  However, as we watched the movie, it quickly became apparent that this film was neither campy nor silly.  Instead, it was just — well, it was just there.

In the Roommate, Minka Kelly plays a poor girl from Iowa who leaves home to attend college in California.  She’s a design major or something like that though she’s going to one of those movie colleges that is exclusively populated by models and where you’re only actually require to attend one class (and that class, of course, is taught by Billy Zane).  Anyway, Kelly has been randomy assigned a roommate and it turns out to be Leighton Meester.  Kelly and Meester hit it off but it quickly becomes evident that Meester has some issues.  Soon, she’s stalking all of Kelly’s other friends, cutting herself to get attention, and eventually revealing herself to be a comic book super villain.  Kelly, for her part, refuses to accept that Meester’s crazy until after the first murder has been committed and yet no one really gets upset at her for that.  Seriously, couldn’t one person have said, “You know, if you hadn’t been such a clueless idiot, a lot of trouble could have been avoided.” 

It’s a sad fact of life that most movies are rather forgettable.  Who hasn’t had the experience of sitting through a movie and then realizing, a few hours later, that you really can’t remember much about what you’ve just seen?  A similar thing happened to me when I saw The Roommate except, as opposed to forgetting about it after I saw it, I actually forgot about it while I was watching.  After about half-an-hour into the film, we all stopped paying attention and instead, me, Erin, Emma, and Evelyn started to whisper about old episodes of The O.C. and Buffy the Vampire Slayer while Jeff and Steve started to talk about sports and Katrina ended up spending the whole movie flirting with the guy sitting behind us (which I don’t think his girlfriend appreciated since she kept going “shhhhhhh!” in this really annoying, obnoxious way).  Every once in a while, I would look up at the screen and think to myself, “Oh yeah, there’s a movie playing” but, quite frankly, I never saw anything on-screen that would justify making any more than a minimum effort to pay attention.  That’s just the type of film The Roommate is.  It takes the old Radiohead song about no surprises, please to heart.

What makes this disappointing is that, concept-wise, the movie has potential.  Everyone has had that one friend that has turned out to be just a little bit too clingy for comfort.  Most of us have had more than a few.  As well, your first few semesters of college are supposed to be all about figuring out who you really are.  Are you gay, straight, or somewhere in between?  Are you a good girl or are you a bad girl?  Are you a rebel or are you a conformist?  At least that’s how I remember my first semester of college and, for me, my randomly-selected roommate was the key to answering so many of those questions.  I imagine that’s the way it is for a lot of people.  The best horror often has some sort of tenuous connection with reality so The Roommate had a chance to be, at the very least, a fun little B-movie.

Unfortunately, effective horror also requires a willingness to risk alienating the audience and The Roommate is too concerned with maintaining its PG-13 rating to take that risk.  That PG-13 rating means, in short, no nudity, no blood, and no darkness.  Instead of truly exploring the premise for all that its worth, The Roommate is more concerned with being safe for tweens and teenagers.  That was the majority of the audience when we saw the film and seeing how much they appeared to be enjoying the film made me feel really, really old.  Of course, to be honest, I probably would have enjoyed the movie to if I was only 15 years old and I’d never actually seen a good horror movie before.

However, no film is totally useless and The Roommate did inspire me to start concealing a pocket knife underneath the clasp of my bra, like Leighton Meester does in this movie.  That may be the best development in self-defense since I finally figured out how to use pepper spray without spraying it in my face.