A Quickie With Lisa Marie: The Social Network (dir. by David Fincher)


Let’s keep this short.

The Social Network is not, as I originally feared, a terrible film.

At the same time, it’s not, as so many are rabidly insisting, a great film either.

It’s a good film that takes a lot of liberty with the truth and, in the process of telling the “story” about the founding of Facebook, reveals that screenwriter Aaron Sorkin doesn’t really get the whole Internet thing.

David Fincher directs like a man who still can’t believe he didn’t get an Oscar for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.  In other words, he doesn’t do anything that might be too far out of the mainstream.  Face it, folks.  The man who directed Fight Club has grown up.  And, as they say, when you grow up, your heart dies.

The main problem with The Social Network is that it is essentially a very mainstream movie being made about a grindhouse topic.  Hackers, like the best grindhouse directors, do what they do because 1) they can and 2) it’s a way of telling the rest of the mainstream world to fuck off.  Unfortunately, both Sorkin and Fincher are members of that mainstream world so instead of celebrating Facebook and the Internet as a revolution, they instead try to convince us that the only reason Facebook exists is because the founder’s heart was broken by his ex-girlfriend.

That ex-girlfriend is portrayed by Rooney Mara, who will be playing Fincher’s version of the girl with the dragon tattoo.  The film presents her as being a shallow bitch but then again, the film presents every woman in the world as being a shallow bitch.  Then again, this is a mainstream movie and the mainstream hates women who actually think for themselves.  Certainly, that’s been the case with everything else that Aaron Sorkin has ever written.

Still, Mara is presented as just being insensitive and not evil or crazy.  If the movie has a villain, it’s Sean Parker (played by Justin Timberlake) who is presented as being the evil Iago-like figure who ruined Facebook.  If anything, the film mostly seems to hate him because Parker co-founded Napster and therefore cost the mainstream media a good deal of money.

Admittedly, it’s a well-acted movie.  Both Jesse Eisenberg and Andrew Garfield are excellent as the soon to be estranged founders of Facebook.  Armie Hammer actually plays two characters — twin brothers — and he creates two unforgettable and unique characters.  Justin Timberlake is a bit less convincing as Sean Parker but then again, by the film’s logic, Parker is less a human being and more a demon sent from Hell to keep David Geffen from getting another few thousand.  Finally, Rooney Mara does what she can with a demeaning and insulting role.  I didn’t see any signs of Lisbeth Salander in her performance but then again, this isn’t a film about strong women.  It’s a movie about weak little boys.

Anyway, to return to my original point, the Social Network is a good film.  It’s well-acted, it looks pretty, the story moves quickly, and Trent Reznor’s score is excellent.  Unfortunately, the movie’s being presented to us as a great film and anyone who disagrees is running the risk of being lynched by the same obnoxious fascists who, last year, demanded that everyone bathe in their own cum while watching Avatar.  The main reason these people are so over-the-moon about this movie is that it’s the epitome of the type of film that pats the viewer on the back for being so smart without actually requiring that viewer to prove it. 

So, if you watch this movie, realize that you keep your mind open at your own risk.

Good luck.

Banned in Vermont: 6 More Shocking Trailers


The latest installment of Lisa Marie’s Favorite Grindhouse and Exploitation Trailers features trailers that are too intense, too shocking, and too controversial for the new age hippies of Vermont.

1) Axe

This film was originally titled Lisa, Lisa.  Isn’t that just a great title?  Seriously, how can you go wrong with a title like Lisa, Lisa?  Just say it a few times.  Lisa, Lisa.  What a great name.

Anyway, this trailer is just pure exploitation and the narrator really loves saying “Axe” repeatedly.  Still, I think he would have been happier saying, “Lisa, Lisa…”

2) Snuff

“The film that could only be made in South America…where life is cheap!”  I’ve never actually seen Snuff though I’ve read a lot about it.  Apparently, this was originally a film called Slaughter.  It was made by pornographic pioneers Roberta and Mike Findlay.  Anyway, the film was bought by another distributor who tacked on some footage of one of the actresses supposedly being killed on camera.  Snuff was then advertised as being an actual snuff movie and, of course, a bunch of dumbfugs believed that it actually was.

3) Olga’s Girls

This is a movie I’ve been meaning on reviewing for a while.  Olga’s Girls is from 1964 and the trailer — like all good grindhouse trailers — makes the film seem a lot more sordid and explicit than it actually is.  The actual film is almost quaint.

4) The Syndicate: A Death In The Family

“The Underworld touches everyone…even you.”  I love the shameless melodrama of this trailer and the serious tone of the narrator.  I also love the swinging crime music.  This Italian film is apparently not available on DVD.

5) The Weird World of LSD

“To fly a giant bird!”  MK-Ultra much?  This is another film I haven’t actually seen and I’ve had next to no success in tracking down a copy.  Why is LSD always so much more fun in the movies than in real life?  Seriously.

6) Possession

As I said in an earlier post, Europe’s art films are often repackaged as America’s grindhouse and exploitation films.  1981’s Possession is a perfect example of that.  People either love or hate this film.  It gave me nightmares but I still think its one of the best (and most important) films ever made.  Everyday, when faced with adversity, I ask myself — “What would Isabelle Adjani do?”

A Quickie From Lisa Marie: Nowhere Boy (Directed by Sam Taylor-Wood)


At first glance, Sam Taylor-Wood’s Nowhere Man sounds just a little bit too cutesy.  The movie, which covers the youth of John Lennon, starts with the death of John’s Uncle George, covers both his attempts to reconcile with his mother Julia (portrayed here as being bipolar) and his troubles relationship with the aunt who actually raised him, details how John came to form his own band (The Quarrymen) and first met Paul McCartney and George Harrison, and ends with John preparing to leave for Germany.  Yet the movie works surprisingly well and, by the end, is actually quite touching regardless of whether you idolize John Lennon or if you think Imagine is one of the most overrated songs of all time.  By refusing to indulge in any easy sentimentality about either John Lennon or the iconic figure he would eventually become (the word “Beatles” is never uttered at any point in the film), Taylor-Wood crafts a touching coming-of-age story about an alienated teenager trying to find peace with his dysfunctional existence.  The fact that the teen is going to grow up to be the John Lennon is secondary to the plot.

The film works mostly because of the cast.  The young John Lennon is played by Aaron Johnson who, earlier this year, was the lead in Kick-Ass.  I have to admit that I didn’t care much for Johnson in Kick-Ass.  His performance seemed generic and bland and he was overshadowed by Nicolas Cage, Chloe Grace Moretz, Mark Strong, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, and just about everyone else in the movie.  Here, however, Johnson gives a strong, sympathetic performance as a character who often comes across as being neither.  He both manages to capture the young Lennon’s sensitivity as well as his anger and cocky arrogance. 

However, the movie truly belongs to the two actresses playing Lennon’s aunt and mother, Kristen Scott Thomas and Anne-Marie Duff.  Scott Thomas has an especially difficult job as her character is far less flamboyant and, at first sight, a lot less interesting as Duff’s.  However, as the film progresses, Scott Thomas starts to subtly reveal the dry humor that lies underneath her character’s serious expression.  As for Duff, she dominates the film as surely as Julia dominated her son’s life.  Duff doesn’t resort to any of the easy (and insulting) clichés that are usually used to represent bipolar disorder on film.  Instead, she captures both the exhilarating high of being manic along with the constant fear of the depressive episode that we always know is destined to follow.  It’s a spot-on performance that elevates this film above the standard coming-of-age story.

Wisely, neither the director nor her actors ever get caught up in the fact that their film is about the John Lennon.  There’s no portentous foreshadowing or awkwardly staged moments designed to specifically make you go, “Hey, that’s John Lennon!”  Even the first time that Lennon meets Paul McCartney and, later, George Harrison is handled in a casual, off-hand manner.  Taylor-Wood has enough faith in her audience to believe that we’ll be able to understand the importance of John being introduced to a younger guitar player named Paul without bashing us over the head with the fact that this is the Paul McCartney.  As such, while you’re always aware that this is a movie about John Lennon, you can also see the movie as simply being the story of an alienated teenager who finds salvation through music.

Scenes I Love: Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror


Old school Italian horror films are, often times, a collection of “what the fuck” moments.  Here’s one of my favorite “what-the-fuck” moments from one of the ultimate “what-the-fuck” movies, 1980’s Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror.

(By the way, contrary to rumor, Peter Bark, who plays the kid in this clip, was not a midget.  He was just a really ugly 16 year-old.)

Scenes I Love: Tenebrae


While the goth ballerina side of me will always have a special place in my heart for Suspiria and its two sequels, I think that 1982’s Tenebrae may very well be director Dario Argento’s best film.  Certainly, it was (to date) his last truly great film before he entered the current, frustratingly uneven stage of his career.

Tenebrae was a return to Argento’s giallo roots after the supernatural-themed horror of Suspiria, Zombi, and Inferno.  It was also the work of an audaciously confident director.  That confidence is fully on display in the scene below in which the film’s killer menaces a journalist and her lover.  Featuring a truly impressive tracking shot in which the camera appears to literally swoop in, out, and over a journalists house without a single cut, the scene ends with one of Argento’s more memorable murders.

The music, by the way, is from Goblin.

Film Review: Bully (dir. by Larry Clark)


Bullying has been in the news a lot lately.  The fact that some people are bullies is hardly a new development, it’s just that now people are actually paying attention to the possible consequences of cruelty.  Tragically, it appears it takes people killing themselves for the rest of the world to consider that “Hey, maybe concentrated, socially accepted sadism isn’t a harmless thing.”  With so many people finally admitting what they had to have known was true all along, now seems like a good time to reconsider Larry Clark’s controversial and much-maligned 2001 film, Bully.

I can still remember the night, five years ago, that I first saw Bully.  I was at a party with a group of friends.  Nine of us ended up in a random bedroom, drinking, smoking, and going through all the closets and dressers.  I might add, we found some very interesting things while searching.  Anyway, someone eventually turned on the TV and there was Bully, playing on one of the movie stations.  Since we knew Bully was supposed to be a very explicit, very controversial movie, we left the TV playing and hung out in a stranger’s bedroom for two more hours.  There was, obviously, a lot going on in that room and I have to admit that I only paid attention to bits and pieces of the movie.  But what I saw stuck with me enough that the next chance I got, I bought the movie on DVD so I could actually devote my full attention to it.  In the years since, Bully is not a film that I revisit frequently because, to be honest, it’s the type of movie that makes you take a shower after watching it.  It’s also an unusually powerful and disturbing film that sticks with you for a long time after it ends.  It’s not a film that I would recommend anyone watch a hundred times.  But it’s definitely worth viewing at least once (or maybe even four times if you’re like me).

The bully of the title is 20 year-old Bobby Kent (played by Nick Stahl).  Bobby’s “best friend” is passive, blank-faced Marty Puccio (Brad Renfro).  Despite being physically stronger, Marty allows himself to be totally dominated by Bobby.  Marty accepts Bobby’s constant insults and physical abuse with the meek acceptance of a battered spouse.  Bobby, who is on the verge of starting college and presumably making a life for himself that high school dropout Marty could never dream of, even forces Marty to moonlight as a male stripper and to take part in making cheap, gay-themed porn videos.  (Bobby insists that he’s not gay himself and, like most guys in denial, goes out of his way to act as much like an insensitive asshole as possible as if to scream to the world, “I’m straight!” despite all the evidence to the contrary.)

As the film begins, Ali (Bijou Philips) and her friend Lisa Marie Connelly (Rachel Miner) step into sandwich shop where both Bobby and Marty work.  (Bobby, of course, is the boss.)  Apparently, they are appropriately impressed by the sight of Bobby slamming Marty’s head against a refrigerator because soon, all four of them are going out on a double date.  While Ali’s content to just give Bobby a blow job, the far more insecure Lisa decides that Marty is the love of her life and starts a relationship with him that the ever-passive Marty simple accepts.  However, what Lisa has failed to take into account, is that Marty is already in a relationship and Bobby isn’t ready to just let go.  Bobby expresses this by walking in on Marty and Lisa while they’re having sex, beating Marty up, and then (unlike everything else in this movie, this is never explicitly shown) raping Lisa.  After this, Lisa discovers that she’s pregnant but she doesn’t know if the baby’s father is the man she claims to love or the man who raped her.

(One thing that surprised me, that night I first watched Bully out of the corner of my eye while me and my friends searched through a stranger’s lingerie, was just how little sympathy most of my friends had for Lisa.  While I wasn’t surprised that the majority of guys in the room seemed to feel that Lisa was somehow to blame for disrupting all that precious male bonding, it was the reaction of some of the other girls that truly caught my off guard.  While none of them went as far as to say that Lisa deserved to be raped by Bobby, quite a few of them took the attitude that she either brought it on herself or she was lying.  Unlike the boys, these girls also felt the need to make several snide remarks about Rachel Miner’s physical appearance.  At the time, their attitude really bothered me and I have to admit that I wasn’t as close to any of them afterward.)

(Of course, we Lisa Maries have to stick together…)

Despite having raped his girlfriend, Bobby still considers himself to be Marty’s best friend and Marty — again like an addicted spouse — proves himself to be incapable to simply cut off all ties with Bobby even as the abuse gets worse and Bobby grows increasingly unstable.  In one of the film’s more controversial scenes, Bobby and Ali are about to have sex when Bobby decides that the only thing the scene is missing is a gay porn video playing in the background.  Ali finds the idea to be disgusting and insinuates that Bobby must be gay.  Bobby responds by raping Ali.

Finally, Lisa tells Marty and Ali that they have little choice but to murder Bobby.  While this starts out as a somewhat innocent suggestion of the “I wish he was dead,” kind, Lisa soon begins to insist that Bobby must die.  Ali recruits her friend Heather (Kelli Garner) and an ex-boyfriend named Donny (a truly scary Michael Pitt) into the conspiracy.  (Heather and Donny both agree that Bobby must die though neither one has ever met him.)  Lisa, meanwhile, brings in her cousin, video-game geek Derek.  Finally, and most fatefully, they decide to get some pointers from the neighborhood hitman (Leo Fitzpatrick).

That’s right.  The neighborhood hitman.  He’s actually a pretty familiar figure in the suburbs.  He’s the 17 year-old white boy who tries to stare out at the world with hateful eyes.  He brags to you about how he’s a member of a gang.  He tries to rap and speaks in dialogue lifted from Grand Theft Auto.  In short, he’s the guy that everyone laughs at whenever he’s not around.  His lies should be obvious to anyone with a brain which is exactly why Lisa, Marty, and Ali all assume that he’s an actual hitman.  The Hitman agrees to direct their murder and help them kill a person who (like almost everyone else now involved in the conspiracy) he has never actually met.

It all climaxes in one of the most disturbingly graphic and harrowing murder scenes I’ve ever seen, one that manages to snap the audience back into reality after the (needed) comic relief of Fitzpatrick’s absurd wannabe gangster.  As he’s repeatedly attacked by this group of made up of bumbling strangers and his “best” friend, Bobby proves himself to be not quite as powerful a figure as everyone had assumed.  Instead, he’s revealed as a pathetic, frightened teenager who begs Marty to forgive him (for “whatever I did”) even as Marty savagely stabs him to death.

Unlike the standard rape-revenge flick (and have no doubt, that’s what Bully essentially is), the film’s climatic act of violence doesn’t provide any sort of satisfaction or wish-fulfillment empowerment.   Instead, it just sets up the chain of events that leads to the film’s inevitable and disturbing conclusion.

When it first came out, Bully was controversial because of its explicit sex and violence.  As a director, Clark employs his customary documentary approach while, at the same time, allowing his camera to frequently linger over the frequently naked bodies of his cast.  More than one reviewer has referred to Clark as “a dirty old man” while reviewing this film.  (More on that in a minute.)  What those critics often seem to fail to notice is that, as explicit as the movie is, some of the most powerful and disturbing elements (like Bobby’s repressed homosexuality) are never explicitly stated.

After seeing this movie a few more times, the thing that gets me is that — in the end — the film’s nominal villains — Bobby and Lisa — are also the only two compelling characters in the entire movie.  While all the other characters are essentially passive, Bobby and Lisa are the only ones actually capable of instigating any type of action.  As such, they become — almost by default — the heroes of the movie.  On repeat viewings, it’s apparent that Bobby and Lisa are really two sides of the same coin.  The film’s title could refer to either one of them.  They are both insecure, unhappy with who they are, and both of them seem to find a personal redemption by dominating Marty.  One of the great ironies of the film is that Bobby and Lisa are essentially fighting a war for the soul of a guy who is eventually revealed to be empty inside.    For his part, Marty simply shifts his “forbidden” relationship with Bobby over to Lisa, a relationship that is just as exploitive and destructive as his friendship with Bobby but which is also more socially acceptable because it’s so heterosexual in nature that he’s even knocked up his girlfriend.  When Marty finally does kill Bobby, he’s not only killing a bully but he’s attempting to kill of his own doubts about his sexual identity.  It’s his way of letting the world know that he’s a “real” man.  As for the other characters — Ali, Donny, Heather, and even the swaggering hitman — they are all defined by their utter shallowness.  While its clear that none of them are murderous on their own, it also becomes clear that none of them have enough of an individual identity to resist the Bobbys and Lisas of the world.

Despite playing shallow characters, nobody in the cast gives a shallow performance.  Down to the smallest role, the actors are all believable in their roles.  Whether it’s Michael Pitt’s blank-faced aggression or Leo Fitzpatrick’s comedic swagger, all of the actors inhabit these characters and give performances that are disturbingly authentic.  The late Brad Renfro gave one of his best performances as Marty, just hinting at the anger boiling below the abused surface.  However, the film belongs to Miner and Stahl.  Stahl displays a sordid charm that makes his character likable if never sympathetic while Miner manages to do something even more difficult.  She makes Lisa into a character who is sympathetic yet never quite likable.  When Bully first came out, critics spent so much time fixating on the fact that Miner’s frequently naked on the film that they forgot to mention that she also proves herself to be an excellent actress.

As I stated, Bully is not a universally beloved film.  Most of the reviews out there are negative with a few of the more self-righteous critics accusing the film of being “pornographic” as if the whole thing was filled with close-up money shots of Brad Renfro ejaculating on Rachel Miner’s ass.  Strangely enough, you can find hundreds of critics complaining that Clark filmed full frontal nudity but next to none complaining that Clark filmed a brutal and realistic murder scene.

The two most frequent criticisms of Bully are that 1) it plays fast and loose with the true story that it’s based on and 2) that the film is exploitive.

Both criticisms are valid but the first one is the only one that would really bother me.  I have to admit that I don’t really know much about the real life murder of Bobby Kent.  I just know the version presented in this movie and in the Jim Schultze book that the movie was based on.  Of course, everyone arrested and convicted for Kent’s murder has been quick to claim that the movie makes them look more guilty than they actually are.  That’s to be expected.  However, the main difference between the film and the reality — for me — was that, in reality, victim Bobby Kent did not look a thing like Nick Stahl.  Whereas Stahl is clearly no physical match for any of the characters in the film (and hence, it’s easier to feel sorry for him when everyone attacks him at once), pictures of the real-life Bobby Kent reveal an intimidating, muscular, young man who few people would probably ever chose to mess with.  Stahl’s Bobby is a bully because everyone else in the film is too passive to stand up to him.  The real Bobby could probably get away with being a bully because he literally looked like he could rip another man’s arm off.

The other criticism is that this movie — with its combination of tits and blood — is essentially just an “exploitation” film.  Well, it is.  But as I’ve explained elsewhere, just because a film is exploitive, that doesn’t mean that it’s not a good movie.  Art and exploitation, more often than not, are clandestine lovers and not bitter enemies.  Yes, all of the characters — male and female — do spend a good deal of time showing off their bodies but then again, what else would these otherwise empty characters do?  Their surface appearance is really all they have.  Yes, the camera does linger over all the exposed flesh but then again, so do most people.  If anything, critics attempted to punish Clark for openly acknowledging that majority of his audience is waiting to either see Bijou Phillips’ twat or Nick Stahl’s dick.  Yes, Bully is exploitation but it’s exploitation in the best grindhouse tradition.  It’s a film that’s honest specifically because it is so sordid and exploitive.

When all is said and done, Bully is the epitome of a movie that is too sordid to ever be corrupted.

Titanic In Retrospect


Recently, I tried to rewatch an obscure art film from 1997 called Titanic.  From the time I was 12 until I was 16, I watched this movie a lot and, without fail, I cried and cried at the movie’s end.  (Admittedly, it was pretty easy to make me cry back then.)  I decided to rewatch it because I was curious as to whether or not Titanic could still make me cry. 

For those of you who aren’t into art films, here’s a quick synopsis and review of Titanic.

The film’s plot: Bill Paxton and an obnoxious fat guy are held hostage on a submarine by a senile old biddy who insists on telling them the story of how she lost her virginity 98 years ago.

Meanwhile, in London, Leonardo DiCaprio steals some poor kid’s sketch book and then sneaks onto a cruise ship where, pretending to be an artist, he seduces and murders lonely widows. 

Also on the cruise ship is Kate Winslet.  Kate’s engaged to Billy Zane but she’s unhappy about it because — well, there’s some men you fuck and there’s some men you marry and let’s just say that you don’t marry Billy Zane.  Once the boat sets sail, Kate decides to jump overboard.  However, just before she can jump, she’s spotted by Leo.  Leo quickly tosses a burlap sack containing the corpse of Lady Astor into the Atlantic and then rescues Kate.

Kate rewards him by taking him down to her cabin and showing him a painting by Someone Picasso.  (Early on in the film, Billy correctly says that Someone Picasso will never amount to anything and that’s true.  Someone was always overshadowed by his older brother Pablo.)  Leo looks at the painting and says, “Look at what he does with color here.”  As a former Art History major, that line made me smile.  That’s the type of statement that is regularly uttered by people who can’t think of anything else to say.  When a guy looks at a painting and says, “Look at what he does with color here,” what he’s actually saying is, “Look, babe, I went to the damn art museum with you so there better be a blow job in my immediate future.”

Leo has dinner with Billy and Kate.  Leo says, “I’m just a tumbleweed blowing in the wind.”  Over at the next table, a shifty young man named Bob Dylan overhears and thinks, “That would make a good song.  But the little man must die so nobody knows I stole that line from him…”

Anyway, Leo eventually slips Kate a rohypnol, convinces her to pose naked while he secretly tapes her for Youtube, and then proceeds  to have sex with her in the back seat of a car.  Afterward, Kate says, “Do you want to hang out tomorrow?”  Leo replies, “Uhmm…I might be busy.  I’ll call you.”  “My God,” I said as I watched all this, “it’s like reliving my freshman year of college all over again.”

Anyway, 8 more hours pass.  All the rich passengers on the ship do rich things while all the poor passengers get drunk and trash the lower levels of the boat.  Suddenly, without warning, the boat is besieged by the living dead.  Billy Zane insists that they would be safer in the basement.  Leo disagrees while Kate says, “So, you think you can just fuck me and leave!?  No way!”

12 more hours pass.  The living dead manage to rip a hole in the side of the boat.  Billy chases Leo and Kate around the Titanic as it sinks.  “I hope you’ll be very happy together!” he screams.  Meanwhile, up top, two rich guys put on tuxedos and one of them says something like, “We’re going to die like gentlemen.”  Which I guess is what they end up doing though, honestly, it sounds to me like the guy’s just being a smartass.

Eventually, Kate and Leo end up sitting on an iceberg together.  Kate wonders if this is a dream.  Leo proceeds to spin a top on the ice to find out.  Suddenly, Bob Dylan floats by in a rowboat.  “This machine kills fascists!” he shouts as he shoots Leo with a crossbow.  Leo sinks into the water.  Bob Dylan smirks.  “How does it feel to be on your own?” he asks.

The end.

A quick review: I guess the easiest way to review Titanic is to answer my original question.  Does the film still make me, at the age of 24, cry like it did when I was 12?  No, it does not.  To be honest, the only tears that I shed while rewatching Titanic were tears of shame and boredom.  This is the movie that I once thought was the greatest thing ever?  True, I was young and stupid but still…

On the plus side, Kate Winslet gives a good performance even if her character is basically just a sexist male fantasy.  Billy Zane is also a lot of fun as her jilted suitor.

On the negative side, there’s everything else.  The script — written by Someone Cameron — is full of laughably bad lines and plotwise, the film has all the depth of a lanced boil.  The romantic elements of the plot made me cry back when I was 12 because I didn’t have a whole lot of real world experience to compare Titanic’s fantasy against.  Now, at the age of 24, I’ve actually had to deal with my fair share of guys who say actually do make dumbfug statement about things like being a tumbleweed blowing in the wind (not to mention being king of the world).  I’m not saying that a good movie can’t present a romantic idealization of reality.  I’m just saying that a good movie can do that without insulting the viewer’s intelligence like Titanic does.

One last note — Leo DiCaprio has become a great actor.  But, in Titanic, he just comes across like a shrill poseur.

I Learned Something Today Conclusion: Just because you and a million others think that a movie is great today, that doesn’t mean that the movie’s going to be anywhere near as good 12 years later.  In this age of Avatar and the Social Network, that’s a lesson that I think many self-appointed film “gurus” would do well to consider before they throw a hissy fit just because a complete stranger on the Internet disagrees with them.

6 Trailers For A Sick, Sick World


Welcome to the latest installment of Lisa Marie’s Grindhouse Trailers.  Since I’ve been battling a pretty bad cold for about a week now, I thought I would use this installment to highlight a few trailers that prove that the rest of the world is just as sick.

1) Massacre at Central High

I’ve read so much about this 1976 film but — for whatever reason —  it has never officially been released on DVD (though there all bootlegs out there as well as an “all-regions” DVD that apparently is not “all-regions.”)  From what I’ve read, this is apparently a political satire disguised as a high school revenge film.  The trailer has an oddly off feel to it.  Maybe it’s just the exploding locker…

2) Class of 1984

 I first saw this film (directed by Mark Lester) on DVD about three years ago.  I was expecting to see a silly, urban vigilante film from the early 80s so imagine my surprise when I discovered that Class of 1984 is a seriously dark and oddly disturbing movie.  Tim Van Patten (he’s the one going, “I am the future…”) is now a pretty succesful television commercial.  He actually gives a pretty good performance in this film, something that’s not necessarily obvious from this trailer.

3) Savage Streets

Yes, another high school revenge film.  In this one, Linda Blair’s sister is raped so Linda tracks and down and kills the Class of 1985.  Usually, this is where I’d make my standard argument that this is a case of exploitation serving to empower.  Honestly, though, it would be more empowering if the film’s villains weren’t so silly and stupid (you get the feeling that they’re all going to die soon anyway regardless of what Linda does) and if the avenging angel was played by someone other than Linda Blair. 

4) The Warriors

The Baseball Furies always make me smile. 🙂

For extra fun, imagine the “gang” from Savage Streets trying to fight any of the gangs in this trailer.

5) Sweden: Heaven and Hell (not available from Amazon.com)

The previous trailers paint a pretty grim picture of America.  According to the “documentary” Sweden: Heaven and Hell, the best thing about America is that it wasn’t Sweden.

Sweden: Heaven and Hell is actually an Italian mondo film, a rather vile form of “documentary” that was big from the mid-60s up until Ruggero Deodato did the world a favor and satirized the genre out of existence with Cannibal Holocaust.  It was released in the States in 1968 (I think).  This is one of those movies that I know by reputation as I’ve never actually seen the actual film.  However, the trailer is grindhouse tackiness at its absolute best.  Everything from the narrator’s leering tone to the “shocking” footage (a woman dancing with another woman — gasp!) makes this trailer a perfect time capsule of the Grindhouse Era.

6) Skatetown USA (not available in any format on Amazon. com — how odd)

But, as sick as Sweden apparently was, can it possibly be sicker than whatever it was that was going on at Skatetown, USA?  Seriously, what was wrong with this country in the 70s?  That said, I do like this ludicrous trailer if just for the sight of a young and dangerous Patrick Swayze.  Plus, how can you dislike any trailer that claims to be advertising “the greatest story ever rolled?”

Seriously, the 70s were fucked up.

SPECIAL BONUS TRAILERS FOR A SICK, SICK WORLD

7) Roller Boogie

Seriously, what was the deal with people roller skating at a disco?  Is that what passed for fun back in the 70s?  Weird.  Maybe it was all the cocaine.  I came across this trailer while I was downloading the Skatetown USA preview and I just had to include it.  Not only is the movie called Roller Boogie but it’s directed by the director of Class of 1984 and it stars the star the Savage Streets.  So, everything ties together.

8 ) Finally, since I hate to end things on an odd number, here’s a silly little trailer that I made for my DVD collection.

Scenes I Love: Southern Comfort


This rather lengthy sequence comes towards the end of Walter Hill’s 1981 action film, Southern Comfort.  Two national guardsmen (played by Keith Carradine and Powers Boothe), after spending the majority of the movie being chased through the Louisiana bayou by “bad” Cajuns, find a few moments of fleeting peace with “good” Cajuns.  While I love the way Hill builds up the tension in the scene, it’s the authentic atmosphere that makes this sequence memorable.  Hill filmed this sequence with nonprofessional extras who pretty much just did their thing. 

(As a sidenote: I’m fluent in French but less so in Cajun.)

Be warned: two hogs are gunned down and gutted about halfway through this scene.  Since this film was made by Walter Hill and not Umberto Lenzi, I doubt the hogs were specifically murdered just for the movie.  To be honest, as a former farm girl who has spent more than a little time down around the bayous, I find it diffilcult to cry too hard over a hog.  Trust me, they’re nothing at all like Babe.

The music here, by the way, was performed by the legendary Dewey Balfa.

A Few Thoughts Before Actually Seeing The Social Network


Hi there.  Lisa Marie here.  I know that usually when I show up on this site, it’s too either toss up 6 more exploitation trailers or to present a review of a film that’s been unfairly dismissed (or foolishly overpraised) by the mainstream media.  It’s what I love doing and I hope everyone gets at least a little occasional pleasure out of it.  (If you don’t — well, please don’t tell me.  I’m surprisingly sensitive.)

Last week, I expected that, at this time, I would have posted a review (probably negative) of the mainstream’s latest attempt to make an art film — David Fincher’s The Social Network.

Unfortunately, life in general — and my body in specific — had other plans.  I’ve been sick since Wednesday and, for the first time in over a year, I did not spend my weekend at the movies.  It’s enough to make a girl cry.

(That said, I did spend most of the weekend lounging about in various states of undress so maybe concentrating on that image will help to lessen the sting of no Social Network review…)

However, while I may not be able to give you my Social Network review, I do feel that I can give you my Social Network pre-viewing review.

Just based on the evidence presented to me so far, the Social Network sucks.

Consider the evidence:

1) Peter Travers of Rolling Stone says that the Social Network will make me “believe in film again.”  Excuse me?  Francios Truffaut coming back from the dead — or at least Jean-Luc Godard making one more vaguely entertaining movie before dying– will make me believe in film again.  I refuse to join a religion based on a movie about fucking Facebook.  Sorry, Mr. Travers.

2) Andrew O’Heir at Salon.com has compared The Social Network to — wait for it — Citizen Kane.  Hopefully, when the zombie apocalypse comes, Zombie Orson Welles will eat Andrew O’Heir first.

3) According to Rotten Tomatoes — the web’s greatest resource of Mainstream Opinion — The Social Network is the best-reviewed film of 2010 so far.  For a film to be that loved, it must be really needy.  And what do needy things do?  They manipulate, they lie, and they go out of their way to beg you to like them.  A great film doesn’t give a fuck what you think.

4) The movie stars Jesse Eisenberg who has already been in 3 great movies — The Squid and the Whale, Adventureland, and Zombieland.  Sorry, Jesse but only Giovanni Lombardo Radice is allowed to appear in four great films in just four years.

5) The movie is written by Aaron Sorkin.  This movie is being advertised as the “defining” movie as my generation.  Sorry, but the defining movie of my generation isn’t going to be written by some smug, 50 year-old, male, sexist, crackhead.

6) The movie is directed by David Fincher which normally would be a good sign except all the reviews are concentrating on Aaron Sorkin.  So, is our Mr. Fincher so needy for an Oscar that he’s basically abandoned his own vision in the service of some smug, 50 year-old, male, sexist, crackhead?

7) Apparently, this movie celebrates rich kids getting richer.  Just what America needs right now.  Yes, let’s celebrate the dumbfug toadsuckers of the world while the guy flipping your burger over at McDonald’s loses his health insurance.

8 ) The Social Network is apparently number one at the box office after this weekend and apparently has gotten great word of mouth.  You know who else got great word of mouth at one time?  Adolf Hitler, that’s who.  Up until it was no longer socially acceptable, the mainstream loved him too.

9) The Social Network has a really crappy, first draft title.  Seriously, that’s the name of the movie? 

10) Sasha Stone, over at Awardsdaily.com, loves this fucking movie and to me, that’s reason enough to assume it’s going to be an overrated piece of foolishness.  Seriously, Awardsdaily.com is a great site if you want to keep up with all the Oscar buzz but — when it comes to reviews — Sasha Stone, Ryan Adams, and the rest of the site are all so middle class and predictable.  (Of course, what do you expect from a site that regularly quotes William Goldman?)

So, that’s my pre-viewing review of The Social Network.  Hopefully, I’ll see it next weekend and be able to post an actual review.  Then we’ll be able to see if the film simply conformed to my own biases or if it truly is worthy of all the hype.

Until then, I’d love to hear your thoughts on The Social Network and the growing chorus of mainstreamers who insist that this is the greatest film of all time.  Am I being too hard on it or is this yet another example of the mainstream emperor wearing no clothes?