RFB at the movies (sorta, kinda): CLOVERFIELD

Do you folks remember a feller by the name of Steven Spielberg? I know I do.

Spielberg has been honored with two Academy awards and when the American Film Institute released a list of the 100 greatest American films ever made, five of his movies headlined the catalog of movies...more than anybody else, even the brilliant man-God that is Alfred Hitchcock. He's one of the wealthiest men on the planet and--rightly so. He's worked hard for it.

To me, the words BLOCKBUSTER, OSCAR and BLUES-BROTHERS-CAMEO are not the words to which he is synonymous. No, the word I'm thinking is VISION. Spielberg is a man of vision. He has given us images that will never leave our consciousness. They've seared their way into the manuscripts of time as if they were delivered from the hand of God Himself. The mothership hovering over Devil's Tower in CLOSE ENCOUNTERS. An adolescent recreational bicyclist and his alien pet soaring through the night sky in E.T. A Tyrannosaurus Rex snacking on a smarmy lawyer in JURASSIC PARK.

That's CLOVERFIELD. It is not a Spielberg film, but feels like one in tone and imagery. CLOVERFIELD is a moving ensemble piece of moving images that infiltrates our conscious core which, no matter how hard we try, we can never shake.

However...as it has been proven that the whole of civilization is about to collapse and/or is in decline, many will not like this movie. Not enough explosions! The monster looks stupid! Where's Johnny Depp in this movie? I have an incoming txt message! I wanna buy a Hollister shirt! LOL!!!111

Jesus H. Fuckin' Christ. Seeing this movie at my local theater...now, bare in mind, I'd never wish bodily harm on anybody. I mean, that's just wrong. But when I left the auditorium to take a piss halfway through, I was praying to the good Lord to concoct a devine miracle: A great big fuckin' fire at theater 9 or 10 or whatever the fuck one I was sitting in. And while he was at it, he could've jammed the doors shut, trapping the motherfuckers inside so they'd meet a grotesque, scorching, well-earned demise.

Didn't happen, though. I suppose God was maxed out on community service hours for the week, I guess. Beats me.

I was supposed to see the midnight show (1-17-08!) with some buddies from work (WILL POWER, REP-RO-SENT*!) but of all nights...the one night I had something planned, there had to be a winter storm. So I missed out. So...by my lonesome, I went the next day once I finished my shift and the theater was packed out the ass...with a bunch of high school children who were there because it was not yet "bed time" and their parent's neglected to have an abortion by the 20th week from inception.

They laughed sporadically throughout the duration of the film for no apparent reason and their "commentary" tracks were as welcome as a benign tumor on my scrotum. And when the movie concluded, I was made privy to their one-word consensus of the film: GAY. That's it. Not exactly a credible or resourceful argument, but hey...they don't know no better. They also said, "That's just like the Blair Witch.!" Really? I thought it was alot like Godzilla, but filmed like the Blair Witch. CLOVERFIELD has a lot more to offer than random shots of trees, rocks and the F-word.

Anyhoo, the film itself is pretty good. I usually give a concise synopsis with every review I write, but bare in mind, my words may not do it justice. The premise of the film is quite convoluted:

GIANT MONSTER GOES BAT SHIT BANANAS IN MANHATTAN. AFFLUENT YUPPIES RUN IN FEAR WITH ROLLING VIDEO CAMERA IN TOW. BLAIR WITCH COMPARISONS WILL BE MADE.

And that was how it was marketed from the get-go. You get what you pay for. You can't buy a bag of Lay's Salt and Vinegar potato chips and then complain that they were too high in sodium content. It was executed well and a fun amusement park-like ride, in contrast to the final PIRATES flick (which a similar audience applauded like it was fuckin' CITIZEN KANE). It had something important to say, it said it brazenly and did so without being manipulative or cheap. It's filming technique was somewhat of a nuisance but it was necessary and made sense as this was the unprecendented narrative approach to a sub-genre motion picture such as this.

Look. I ain't gonna lie. I was expecting the film to be AWFUL. It was released in January (nothing good comes out in January except RAMBO) and it was handled by JJ Abrams, the man who wrote the cinematic gem that was ARMAGEDDON and now aims to rape my childhood and my asshole by remaking Star Trek as BEVERLY MARS, NCC-1701. So I was skeptical at first.

I was surprised at how much instant iconography there was in this film. Lady Liberty's head, used as a bowling ball. The cameo of the Starship Trooper bugs in an abandoned subway tunnel. The monster's "Mr. Demille" moment at the end. An exploding Marlena, motherfucker. Oops. Spoilers.

And as for the lack of exposition...it is an immediate story, one that is an allegory of our initial reaction to a certain day in September, 2001 when two buildings recreated a botched, epic-sized round of Jenga from my youth and alot of people bought American flags in their grief. Did we know Al-Queda was behind the attack at first? Did we know why it happened?

Fuck no we didn't know. And that's the point of the story (they even allude to it in a line at the end...don't wanna spoil it): How we react to impromptu grand scale destruction as a species. What difference does it make what the monster's motives are? I firmly believe that he came to Manhattan to join the anti-National ID card crusaders but he accidentally ended up in Harlem, so caps were busted in his ass. That's when he goes bat shit bananas...That's my theory. Shit blows up, buildings collapse, people expand and explode right before our eyes, etc. So how do we react to that? Do we loot electronics stores? Do we seek out the people we love to ensure their safety? Do we run and hide under a bridge in Central Park once the military has issued the absolute destruction of Manhattan? Would we profess our love to that other person and be rudely interrupted by the bombing runs? Would it kill the remaining cast who had survived up to this point?

Oops. Spoilers.

The film lags a bit here and there. Shaky-cam sucks. The characters are yuppies, yet the film offers it's only unrealistic aspect as they seem like cool cats you'd like to kick it with. Could've used the monster (CLOVIE, I call him) a bit more. He looks kind of silly, but he's from the ocean so let's not hold a grudge. At least he isn't a crustacean and I'm thankful for that. As a loyal patron of Red Lobster the last thing I need to develop is a lobster complex. I don't know. It's a memorable film...I guess. I recommend it.

--Don't die in a fire (unless you dislike CLOVERFIELD)--

RFB

*intentional spelling error, btw. LOL!!!!!1111

RFB's Home Library: The ALIEN Legacy

Hey, fuckers! It's RFB, shooting in to review a few of the ALIEN movies just in time for the release of AVP-R, coming April 15th from 20th Century Fox home entertainment. Joy. So, I'll be quick and to the point. I won't go to in-depth with the reviews of the movies 'cause many of you complain that my vocabulary is too advanced and entirely too long. I apologize. Anyway, I kinda need to keep it short 'cause I got that job thing to do and I need to shower before I do that. So...yeah. Time to get rolling.

ALIEN

"IN SPACE NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU SCREAM"

In my humble opinion, this is the greatest tagline for a movie, ever. It's succinctly chilling and underlines the consistent predator vs. prey tone of the movie. It's a brilliant psychological horror movie because it uses it's monster conservatively, revealing pieces of it in silhouettes. And as such, the three-dimensional passengers of a commercial towing starship confront an imminent doom that is beyond all levels of human comprehension. And it builds to a heart-stopping finale when lone survivor Ellen Ripley is forced to go mano a mano against the savage extraterrestrial cockroach.

Absolutely brilliant film that takes its time to develop it's characters, something not inherent in many horror films. It's frightening; the art design is among the very best in motion picture history. The author feels (i.e.: ME) that this is the greatest American horror film of all time. Anybody that questions the author (ME) will receive a swift kick in the balls. Sorry 'bout ya.

ALIENS

I enjoy the concept of this film. Take the title of the first ALIEN and simply pluralize it. Quite intelligent. I never did quite get the whole "tacking" on the number 2 to a movie sequel. I can understand it, however, as most movie sequels result in a number 2, if you know what I'm saying.

Anyhoo, I have a love-hate relationship with James Cameron. He has innovated amazing, groundbreaking visual effects, directed the highest grossing film of all time, gave Arnold Schwarzenegger the role he was born to play and directed arguably the greatest action movie of all time: TERMINATOR 2: JUDGMENT AT NUREMBERG.

However, James Cameron homogenized the current day action/adventure movie and it sorta pisses me off. From the original ALIEN, he circumvented the brilliant horror elements altogether and brought to life a pseudo-intelligent action film containing pulse rifles and--gasp--multiple extraterrestrial cockroaches to use the rifle ons.

Now, there was a phrase I used in the RAMBO review that was kinda popular. My fans (all two of them) bring it up all the time when I see them. It is now unofficially retired, kinda like Michael Jordan in the mid-90's. Not really retired, per se...it gave up the basketball gig to play baseball, metaphorically speaking I guess. Perhaps its sitting in the corner of it's affluent mansion, bawling its eyes out over it's recently deceased father when nobody is looking. I don't know.

The phrase has been applied to different things over the course of my writings. Exploding_________motherfucker(s). Asians. Bunnies. Well, it is coming back to play on the Chicago Bulls court. That's right. I'm bringing it back one last time. These creatures are intensely aggressive, they move like cheetahs, presumably possess the intelligence of a chimpanzee and you can't kill them so easily 'cause they bleed molecular acid.

So what does Cameron do? Dumb it down by presenting inescapable hapless situations that would otherwise spell an inevitable demise for the players involved--escapist fun movie fare that has been imitated, spoofed and admired since the day it was released on the big screen.

ALIENS is merely an extended sequence of exploding extraterrestrial cockroach motherfuckers.

When the soldiers shoot the fuckers at point-blank range, the blood rarely splashes on them unless it is convenient for the pace of the movie. Bishop shows up with the dropship just in the nick of time to rescue Ripley and that annoying little girl with the annoying accent who likes to repeatedly shout the supporting characters last names for no reason whatsoever. The reactor blows up just as the dropship gets the heck out of dodge. And the Alien Queen is sucked out of the airlock just as Ripley seals the door.

It's a film that grounds itself on simple conveniences and coincidences to the point that it grows insulting. And sadly, Stephen Sommers, Brett Ratner, Paul W.S. Anderson, Uwe Boll, Michael Bay...I guarantee you that this is their favorite movie of all time. They saw this one when they were little bastard spawns and decided that they were gonna make movies like this, but not execute them as well. It's as if these guys live by the mantra: Character development not necessary.

Don't get me wrong. The first two Alien movies are probably in my list of twenty favorite films of all time. It's ambitious, contains some of the best action sequences in movie history, two great lines ("Get away from her, you bitch!" and "Game over, man! Game over!") and hey--at least we have Badass, "exploding extraterrestrial cockroach motherfucker" Ripley to carry it. Vastly overrated, though.

ALIEN 3

Never seen it. And from what I hear I don't need to.

ALIEN: RESURRECTION

I've only seen parts of this movie on the Home B.O. channel. My consensus: Gay.

AVP: ALIEN VS. PREDATOR

What do you get when you combine two of the most popular film franchises in history, remove the characters that drove each series, replace them with caricatures, hand it over to a video game movie director and water it down to achieve a family-friendly rating?
A train wreck. Horrible, horrible, horrible. But compared to...

AVP-R: ALIENS VS. PREDATOR: REQUIEM

It's a goddamned masterpiece. Of course it's R, but this film is fuckin' terrible. Oh, shit! Look at the time. I'm not even gonna get into this one. Don't rent it, don't buy it! Steal it from Best Buy, download it illegally, donkey-punch anybody who purchases it, etc. I'd recommend the latter. The fact that this film exists and was produced and directed with such pedestrian resolve is a spit in the face of these two great film series. So spit in the face of 20th Century Fox, the studio that raped this series, sabotaged the X-MEN movies anyway they could, dropped the funding for a motion picture based on the video game HALO because it "cost" too much to make and then proceded to produce the Fantastical Four movies.

Wow. There really isn't a God.

--Don't die in a fire.--

RFB

RFB at the movies: DOOMSDAY

Neil Marshall, director of DOOMSDAY is the only auteur of the "splat pack" that I respect. If he uses CGI, it’s purposely visible, product placement is at a minimum and he doesn’t indulge in violence or use it to "scare" us like Eli Roth or the morons who helm the SAW films, he uses violence to it’s full effect by merely displaying it in an over-the-top yet brutal fashion.

When I saw the trailer for DOOMSDAY, I immediately wrote it off as another ULTRAVIOLET or RESIDENT EVIL clone due to the tired, uninspired, perfunctory approach to ass-kicking females in a post-apocalyptic cinema setting. Nevertheless, once the reviews began to pour in, many of them mentioned the similarities to 80’s classics such as ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK and THE ROAD WARRIOR...two of my favorite action movies ever made. Immediately after hearing this, my interest or lack thereof in DOOMSDAY had shifted from apathy to urgency. Well, not really urgency but I wanted to see it. And I did.

The problem with movies like UNDERWORLD, ULTRAVIOLET and RESIDENT EVIL is that they take themselves far too serious. "Holy shit! The Umbrella corporation is manufacturing a killer zombie virus? Let’s grab some shotguns and do some bullet-time kung-fu on those conglomerate motherfuckers!" Or UNDERWORLD. "No! The Lycans are mounting a full scale attack! And the vampires are a bunch of flamboyant, role-playing game pussies interested only in chandeliers and shit! We have to grab some shotguns and do some bullet-time kung-fu on those oversized, infectious canine motherfuckers!" I’d mock ULTRAVIOLET but I’ve never seen that movie. So I apologize; don’t get mad at me or anything. What can I say, I’m a bit of a slacker.

With DOOMSDAY, baby...it don’t give a fuck. "A virus is wiping out London and it’s going up in flames?" Fuck it. "The great Bob Hoskins in a big budget B-movie?" Fuck it. "Rhona Mitra has killer tits but she isn’t showing them?" Actually that is one of my major complaints of the film. But that’s just me.

This is a nihilistic, grindhouse approach to all of those faggy video game movies. This is like an amalgamation of ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK, THE ROAD WARRIOR and THE WARRIORS. Nonetheless, DOOMSDAY isn’t an ass hair on any of these cult classics.

This is a film that is so derivative that it eventually bogs itself down and kinda shoots itself in the foot. You can’t help but compare DOOMSDAY to the aforementioned 80’s movies and they were all executed about a thousand times better. I was digging the film until the middle. Then it fell apart.

It starts out like the prologue from ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK, with similar on-screen schematics and narration explaining the situation. A virus has wiped out Scotland and the government builds the great wall of Scotland to keep the virus--and--mongolians from reaching the British. The virus kills everybody off and Scotland becomes the modern day equivalent of Sodom and Gommorah with rapes and killing and cannabalism. You know, the type of shit you hear about every night on the six o’ clock news.

Cut to twenty years later. The virus shows up in London and it’s spreading at an astronomical rate. So they send in Super-soldier Rhona Mitra to find survivors in Scotland to discover a fabled cure. Turns out there are more survivors them they had anticipated. And inconveniently, they’re a group of uncivilized post-modern punks who like to burn people alive and then filet their charred flesh for consumption.

Six o’ clock news, dude.

It’s awesome to this point. The action sequences were nice and bloody, any CGI was unnoticable, Rhona Mitra was cooler than Milla Jovovich in her video game movies and the score was a seamlessly blended combination of THE WARRIORS soundtrack and Carpenter’s iconic ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK score.

Then it gets really stupid. And that’s kind of an oxymoron ’cause this movie never made much sense from the get-go. I’m not gonna get into it, but the film score becomes pedestrian and standard and the narrative switchs from EXCALIBUR to a Bentley commercial, right back to THE ROAD WARRIOR and then concludes like a poor man’s (get it?) EVIL DEAD II. This movie is like a Tarantino flick but without the cool or superb execution. Like I stated earlier, DOOMSDAY is like an emulation of many other movies and sadly, isn’t as good.

Nonetheless, it don’t give a fuck. It’s similar to the 80’s big budget grindhouse movies. It doesn’t take itself serious and that can go a long way for films like this. And regardless of it’s weak execution, its a rather fun movie and oddly enough, finds comedy in this bleak, utterly insane acid trip of a future. Like for instance, just in time for Easter, a rabbit is gunned down by a robotic sentry (exploding bunny motherfucker), the EXCALIBUR segment of the film is like something out of a really bad, unaware movie (It’s actually a mediocre, self-aware movie, so it was disconcerting) and the final car chase features the central villain of the movie hanging out of the driver’s side window biting and punching the passengers while Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s "Two Tribes" plays loudly in the background. All qualms aside, it receives the RFB SEAL OF APPROVAL. Thumbs up and everything. A non-enthusiastic thumbs up; one I’m only giving as a die-hard fan of 80’s post-apocalyptic action/horror. My consensus: Wait for video. Seeing this in the theater is a waste of ten bucks.

* * Two stars.

RFB at the movies: (S)HITMAN

(S)HITMAN
When I was a little boy I would rush home from school and steal the television so that I could wield my square controller to master this strange 8-bit classic about an acid-tripping electrician who would jump on humanoid mushrooms and warp down pipes and dodge a fire-sprouting Dennis Hopper and shit. Fun stuff. I can’t remember what this game was called but I’m sure it will come to me and I’ll get back to you. After all, it was somewhat of an underground hit. It never really had a cult-following similar to that of the iconic E.T.: The Atari Game and Sewer Shark.

Then there was this other game where this blue armadillo and his mutant skunky friend would run around hoops and collect rings and curl into balls and bounce on this giant egg-shaped guy’s quasi-futuristic hovercraft and shit. I can’t for the life of me remember the title of this video game, either. I do know that it was available for the Sega Genesis or as I like to call it, the Sega G.

What I’m trying to say is that if video games are indicative of anything, it is this: Our society is in decline. Big time. Today’s video games all feature the same formula: Perfunctory furturistic soldier, Free-roaming chaotic endeavor where you’re encouraged to kill alot of AI-controlled characters (those games are ok) or faggy MMORPGs where you run around as a fairy and collect power points by impaling boars and pissing off dragons by driving a Toyota Tacoma into it’s belly and causing it to explode.

So much for creative aesthetic.

And to compound the insult, movie adaptations of these games are as ubiquitous as the clap in a restroom at the Cancun Cantina. Street Fighter. MORTAL KOMBAT! Super Mario Bros. Oh yeah. That’s what it was called.

I’m a bit behind; those flicks were released in the 90’s. But now...we have awesome video games to adapt. Resident Evil, Silent Hill and Tits...er...I mean Tomb Raider, were like the video game equivalent of the Spice Girl’s GIRL POWER! and the movies treated them as all women like to be treated: Pieces of meat to be ogled. Pieces of meat to be ogled and/or masturbated to.
With that being said, having owned all three of these films for quite some time, I kind of enjoy them. They’re a-ok in my book. Movies can’t get much better than this. It is a surprise that the Academy Awards did not recognize these classics or nominate them for the BEST PICTURE Oscars. I tell ya: some people just wouldn’t know art if it bit ’em on the ass.

And we’ve reached the pinnacle of societal downfall with a little movie called (S)HITMAN. Now, I’ve never played the games so I’m not familiar with the source material so maybe I’m being biased. Nonetheless, everybody I talk to says the games aren’t all that. I will admit that I downloaded a demo of the latest game. The controls were awful, the graphics were awful; I ended up running around in circles and fell off of a cliff.

This simulation as a professional assassin certainly didn’t live up to my standards. And the movie is no different.

First rule if you wanna be a (S)HITMAN, you gotta shave your head. It doesn’t matter if you’re a sexy man like Timothy Olyphant and you look absolutely fuckin’ stupid without hair. You just gotta do it. And you gotta get some ink, vato. On the back of yo’ neck. A barcode. For no reason. That is never scanned. If you wanna be one of the (S)HITMEN, it’s best to be anonymous. An on-the-lam, tall, slender, bald white American male walking through train stations or five-star hotels in a designer suit sporting isotoners is not suspicious in any way. It’s okay to undertake missions like assassinating the FUCKIN’ RUSSIAN PRESIDENT and hang around in town. Thousands of guys just like ya, I tell ya. And carry two hidden katana swords in your jacket just in case you encounter a group of random ninjas. You never know when it’s gonna go down.

Second Rule: NO SEX! It doesn’t matter if the girl you’re accompanying is a perfect ten prostitute, drunk, lying on top of your junk wearing no panties and poised to become one of Daniel Craig’s disposable fucks in the next Bond movie. Just knock her out and instead, go on a redundant, shoddily edited kill crazy rampage next scene. She wasn’t interested in you. She was just playing hard-to-get. She isn’t gonna fool you with her, "Let’s fuck" game utilizing her seductive Russian accent and...you know. That thing down there.

Third Rule: Be Sloppy. If you’re gonna snipe somebody, even if it is the leader of a nation kilometers away with a .50 cal rifle, be sure to set off some explosives at your position seconds later. Disposing of evidence is more important than getting caught. People won’t notice something as mundane as an explosion.

Fourth Rule: Attempt to one-up Jason Bourne, even if he happens to be a better character in a better series of films. Steal his background score. Emulate the editing and fight choreography from his movies. Run from place to place without getting caught, but somehow, stage stunts that are somehow more outrageous and unrealistic than the climax of ULTIMATUM. Be your own person, though. If you wanna kill cops instead of outrunning them like he does, feel free. But most importantly, when you have a girl piggyback on this grand journey you’re taking, just remember to NOT fuck her. That would be amoral. Having an attention-grabbing, coherent plot is evidently amoral as well.

Those are the four cardinal rules for being a (S)HITMAN. I believe they’re accepting applications right now. Be warned: It’s a difficult life with alot of moving around and the primary on-site hazard is sporadic ninja attacks. The life of a (S)HITMAN is similar to Hell itself ’cause it doesn’t make any sense, but that’s okay. There are benefits to reap. You can not bang ultra-hot Russian chicks if you want to.

Now, I have to mention Timothy Olyphant in this film, ’cause...well...he’s the main star. He’s a good actor but I can’t cite anything he has done that has impressed me. Well, anyhoo he’s freaking terrible in this movie. The character he plays is just god-awful. They DEFINITELY picked the wrong guy for this. Agent 47 from the video game series is designed to be a menacing predator while Timmy Olyphant, by default, is one naturally creepy dude. And I don’t mean the, "...does this look infected to you?" sort of way either. I’m talking, "Hey little girl...wanna come with me and get some non-fat yogurt?" sort of way. Sorry, guy. That’s just the way I see ya.

There is no humanity or relatability whatsoever. He has horrible social skills; he is so terse that he may as well not speak at all. He doesn’t have any qualms with his job or a feeling of guilt for undertaking "assignments", even if he is oblivious to the crimes of his clients. Throughout the movie he risks alot for his prostitute non-fuck buddy, yet murders cops when he could merely outrun them. It’s as if the director demanded of Olyphant an interpretation of a badass, gunslinging T-1000 but without the metamorphosis or the cool. He has one joke in the film and it’s about as funny as watching two 747’s collide with the World Trade Center. (Too soon?)

This character is to action movie icon as Britney Spears is to emotional and psychological stability.

It’s freakin’ sad. Here, we have all of these shitty movies based on video games and you’re GONNA FUCKIN’ TELL ME!!! that we can’t have a HALO movie ’cause it costs too much to make? What about THE LEGEND OF ZELDA? Or METROID? At this point I’m willing to settle with a RATCHET & CLANK motion picture over this generic, homogenous garbage. Shit. Why can’t we get quality video game movies? There is nowhere but up from here. And I don’t even want to hear about the price tag on epics like HALO or METROID. Most of these films fail because they don’t have a very big fanbase. Um...HALO, METROID, THE LEGEND OF ZELDA and METAL GEAR SOLID all have a rabid fanbase. The problem is, for them to be successful, the translation of these stories have to be handled with some respect and integrity. Not just handed off to the newest hack pedestrian graduate from the MTV music video director scene.

In short, it ain’t gonna happen.

I enjoyed each and every one of Uwe Boll’s video game movies over this shite. And that is DEFINITELY saying something. If I had to assign the "director" (don’t know his name, call him FUCKTARD) a rating, I would refuse to give him a gold star. No red ink, either. The pen is down. I’m not gonna attempt to "critique" this kindergartener’s fingerpainting assignment. It’s that messy. I’m not gonna even give him an "N" for NEEDS IMPROVEMENT. That would be as futile as tutoring Dubya as to prepare for a vocabulary quiz...or pointing out to him that even the most despicable sociopaths throughout history have had some form of a twisted conscience. You can’t save ’em all. *OBLIGATORY BLEEDING HEART LIBERAL COMMENTS INSERTED THERE*

As for the film itself: I’m just gonna forget I ever knew him and send him to the corner like a very bad student that just shat his pants. Perhaps I’d send him to the nurse or even a bathroom. The guidance counselors office, maybe. It all depends on what the little fucker ate for dinner the night before, how bad it smells and/or if I’m feeling generous.
For the uninitiated, the last two paragraphs was a metaphor for dismissing the film like a sheet of used toilet paper and neglecting to point out how the film worked on any level whatsoever...mostly because it didn’t. I’m like the world’s first poetic, movie critic philosopher/comedian. Thank you. I’m here all week.

Avoid at all costs. Avoid like the black plague. Avoid like a pit of pissed-off rattlesnakes. Avoid this fuckin’ movie like Super Mario the Electrician avoids union disputes. He’d much rather jump on humanoid mushrooms and run around hoops and shit with his blue armadillo friend.

I would, too.

*Note: I’m sure many of you noticed my neglect to include a cheap joke about JOYSTICKS as anybody else would in a review like this. I don’t roll like that, holmes. Also, in an attempt to maintain the positive demeanor of my post, I’m gonna include some things I liked about the movie: 1)The chick. She’s hot.

Well, that’s about it. I’m certain there are other things I’m overlooking. I’ll get back to you on that one as well.

Zero stars.

RFB at the movies: RAMBO

RAMBO

Ho. Lee. Shit. Folks, I think I've just seen the most violent movie ever made. Stallone turns the ULTRA-VIOLENCE meter up to 11, twists the knob off and throws it out of a moving vehicle…and it confuses me a bit. RAMBO rubs off as a film that is fervently pacifist, yet simultaneously indulgent with its hostility…but then again, this is a series that has always been susceptible to contradiction.

And that's why I absolutely love RAMBO: FIRST BLOOD PART II of all the movies. I can't take it serious; I don't take it serious. Of course, the sociopolitical commentary is there, but it feels as if it is a throwback to a disillusioned B-movie that thinks it is stating something purposeful. RAMBO: FIRST BLOOD PART II is absolutely oxymoronic, beginning with its subtitle: FIRST BLOOD…PART II. Then you have all of these, "…what the fuck?" moments to sift through. Like when Rambo falls in love with the Asian girl after knowing her for about three hours and--the movie-makers waste no time--she is gunned down directly after. And then you have the ending and it makes me laugh each time I watch it. He walks off into the sunset, sans a shirt, covered in muck and filth and the cheesy 80's pop song begins to play as if we're supposed to sympathize with the character. Um…what? I do remember the latter moments of the film in which the titular character flew a gunship into an enemy village and set it ablaze. I mean, I'm all for military extractions especially those regarding American POW's, but come on. Was it really necessary to blow up a whole goddamned village in a repetitive sequence of a helicopter flying around in circles? You had a helicopter equipped with missiles while they had AK-47s. You win, dude.

So here we have it...Southeast Asia is in flames, Rambo won't be hitting that Asian booty any time soon (Oh, snap!), lives are irrevocably ruined, the equity value of the village has decreased exceptionally (I'd know; real estate is an avid hobby of mine) and we're treated to some bubble-gum pop song to send off a rather mean-spirited, mindless action flick.

It's so remarkably genius that it is unparallel to any action film prior. And the best part of it all: the film parodies itself before anybody else had the opportunity to do so. The entire film, from it's concept to execution, comes across as a tongue-in-cheek yarn while the filmmakers were attempting to create an idealistic and somber movie.

I've spent a lot of time speaking about First Blood Part II and the reason for that is: RAMBO (new one) and RAMBO FIRST BLOOD PART II (old one) are pretty much the same exact movie (recycled formula)…Yet in contrast, RAMBO (new one) is merely an extended sequence of exploding Asian motherfuckers.

And let me tell you, it's a very badass, HARDCORE, awesome (and by awesome I mean sweet) sequence of exploding Asian motherfuckers. But I wanted subtext similar to that of the original. What pissed me off the most where the hints of a brain somewhere in the head of this film. Sure, there is some kind of a heart beating inside of its chest. RAMBO (…new one) brings up several issues such as genocide and transgression, and just throws them to the side to deliver… exploding Asian motherfuckers.

Like I said, it comes off at first as a film that looks down on violence yet then exploits it. RAMBO has come to terms with the fact that the only thing he's ever been good at is murdering Asian people. He's practically self-loathing at this stage in his life. But these missionaries (who have the collective personality of a dry dish cloth) get captured by a unit of sadistic Burmese soldiers (who also have the collective personality of a dry dish cloth). So, Rambo gears up and heads up river with a group of mercenaries (dry dish cloth, dude) to rescue the survivors.

So begins the soon-to-be infamous 15 minute sequence of exploding Asian motherfuckers when Stallone mans a .50 caliber MG and goes to town on the Burmese soldiers. It's a great sequence, amongst the very best in action movie history. This one doesn't screw around. This is what happens to the human body when it is fired upon at point black range by heavy artillery. And it's oddly, darkly humorous when the soldiers liquefy. And whereas any other film with an extended action sequence such as this would have eventually become repetitious, the carnage grows more and more insane and welcome with each passing moment.

And it saddens me that this is the best this film has to offer. There are moments of artistic poignancy that made me think this could turn out to be more than just a mindless action flick. The aforementioned genocide scenes don't shy away from the inhumanity of this civil war. Many of the young male villagers are forcibly drafted to join the Burmese unit and this parallels the tragedy of John Rambo. Similar to Rambo, many of these men have unwillingly committed atrocities beyond comprehension and over the years and the effects; the scars have permeated them. I mean, gosh. That's kind of what this series was meant to be about, you know. But then—Stallone decides that there is no gray area here with these guys. No, their souls are as black as night. They're consigned to the realm of mustache-twirling, archetypal exploding Asian motherfuckin' villains.

And that brings me to the end. Not to spoil it or anything, but oddly enough, in a "what the fuck…" moment, the series is wrapped up the same way it began, with Rambo walking down a desolate road, looking for meaning. Not more than a nod to fans of the series…this was not an appropriate bookend. It was not earned and comes across as a deviation in comparison to the rest of the film.

Folks, if the all you're expecting from RAMBO is a geriatric 61 year old alpha male "pWn'ing" exploding Asian motherfuckers for an hour and a half, you're gonna have a blast with this one. But don't go in thinking you're gonna be any smarter by watching it, 'cause if you understand and respect the art of narrative, you're gonna be more confused than a deer in the headlights.

* * 1/2 Two and a half stars