WESTWORLD (1973) and the Worst Job Ever

Starring Yul Brynner, James Brolin, Richard Benjamin, Majel Barrett, Dick Van Patten. Directed by Michael Crichton. (1973, 88 min).

Of all the shitty ways to make a living, working for Delos as part of the clean-up crew would have to rank among the worst.

Sometimes revisiting old films raises nagging questions which are never addressed, and the more I watch them, the more my overactive brain goes to work, obsessing over details which have no real baring on the story. I’m not talking about plot holes, but those films which, if their concepts and ideas were reality, have  me pondering the unseen ramifications. 1973’s Westworld eventually raised such a question, one I should probably be thankful isn’t answered. Still, it torments me (and probably no one else).

Westworld was the directorial debut of Michael Crichton, he of Jurassic Park fame, but best-known at the time as the author of The Andromeda Strain (adapted by Robert Wise into a terrific and disturbing film in 1970). Westworld is far less complex. Taking place in the near future, people willing to shell-out $1000 per day can vacation at Delos, an adult amusement park which consists of three distinct sections, Roman World, Medieval World and Westworld. Whatever world you choose, you can totally indulge in your every whim, no matter how decadent, which will be serviced by willing, obedient and lifelike androids.

Much of the story focuses on James Brolin and Richard Benjamin as Peter & John, two spoiled yuppies who decide to play cowboy in Westworld. They get into gunfights by day (repeatedly blowing away robot gunslinger Yul Brynner, looking exactly like he did in The Magnificent Seven, a brilliant homage) and bang saloon prostitutes by night. And while the guests are sleeping-off their debauchery, Delos’ maintenance crew gathers all the damaged robots for repairs in order to get them ready for the next day.

Because this is Michael Crichton we’re talking about (whose tales about technological terror were always his biggest sellers), something goes fatally wrong…the park’s computer system begins to malfunction, making the robots turn homicidal. In the gripping final act, The Gunslinger methodically and mercilessly stalks Richard Benjamin throughout the park.

Here you go, ladies.

Some have credited Westworld as the first sci-fi movie to depict a computer virus (long before it was even a term). The problem is even discussed by the perplexed Delos engineers as some sort of infection. Whether or not that assessment is accurate isn’t my nagging question, nor is the film’s biggest gaping plot hole, in which The Gunslinger is suddenly able to shoot guests dead (since these robots are programmed to lose every gunfight, why would you arm them with real ammunition in the first place?). Hell, I don’t even have much of a problem with Richard Benjamin’s porn-star mustache. Westworld is a lot of big, dumb fun, the kind of movie where you check your brain in at the door and, despite the fact nearly everyone in the movie dies, kinda wish a resort like Delos really existed.

But if such a place were technologically possible, the reality is it would likely be as filthy as a truck stop restroom.

Far-fetched as it may be, Westworld is arguably 100% accurate in one aspect…if creating such realistic androids was even remotely possible, the first thing most of us would want to do is fuck one. Peter & John bed-down two robo-hookers on their very first night at Westworld, probably displaying more patience than most of us would in a park where nothing is forbidden. Moral ambiguities aside, that’s not my nagging question either. Free of inhibitions, I’d likely try to nail the nearest broad in a bustier the second I stepped off the Delos shuttle.

…unless I really thought it through.

As stated before, at night is when the Delos crew comes out to repair and maintain robots while the guests are asleep. Those that have been shot, stabbed or beaten are patched up and ready for more violent mayhem.

But here’s my nagging question…

What about the robots that have spent the whole day fucking the guests? Who's stuck cleaning up the saloon hookers in Westworld or the horny chambermaids in Medieval World?

Imagine if that was your job…wiping, disinfecting and scraping out these robots of all the nasty spunk pumped into them by oversexed, middle-aged CEOs, who are probably as undiscriminating where they deposit their seed in the real world as they are at Delos. And that’s just cleaning up what the normal guys leave behind. What about those who would choose this opportunity to violate every single orifice of the female anatomy, or those who regularly include veggies or gerbils as part of their sexual diet?

Hey, robots aren't exactly disposable, so somebody’s gotta clean them up. That job would be worse than emptying the bedpans in a retirement home…at least you know what those old folks ate a few hours ago, and you’re pretty damned certain they haven’t spent the entire day as a walking sperm bank.

Watching Westworld today, I can’t get past the fact that shit ultimately rolls downhill to the one guy tasked with cleaning up bodily fluids. Any employee willing to do such a job deserves more pay than those who built the fucking park in the first place.

Right now, a few of you might be thinking to yourselves, “I wouldn’t never do such a job. I’d be one of those wealthy guests doing all the fucking…with gerbils!”

Well, if you’re fortunate enough to be in such a position of power, you’ve also likely dealt with enough underlings to know some of them do not necessarily possess the same dedication to their jobs as you do. They cling to the bottom rung of your corporate ladder and probably don’t give a flying fuck about anything but your signature on their paycheck. Do you really think folks like this care one whit about complete orifice sterilization when a simple wipe-down will be enough keep them employed for another day?

Think about that the next time you feel like sticking your Johnson into a foreign object, especially a robot.

Blu-Ray Review: THE BREAKFAST CLUB: 30th ANNIVERSARY EDITION

Starring Emilio Estevez, Molly Ringwald, Judd Nelson, Anthony Michael Hall, Ally Sheedy, Paul Gleason, John Kapelos. Directed by John Hughes. (1985, 97 min).
Universal

How time flies. The Breakfast Club is now 30 years old, and the young adults who made it a pop culture phenomenon are middle-aged, most-likely with angst-ridden teenagers of their own.

It seems like just yesterday that this film defined a decade as much as Madonna, parachute pants and wine coolers. Though this isn't writer/director John Hughes’ best film (Sixteen Candles holds that distinction), The Breakfast Club is his most iconic, and one of the first which comes-to-mind in any discussion about the 1980s. Because it’s clearly a product of its time in every conceivable way (no way could you remake it today), this 30th Anniversary Blu-Ray is worth its weight in gold for anyone who nostalgically looks back at the 80s as their golden years.

However, a funny thing happens when you watch it decades later…you notice how superficial most of these characters really are, how their issues ultimately don’t amount to much in the great scheme of things (or, as my oldest daughter would put it, First World Problems). But weren’t we all like that as teenagers…every problem a crisis, every adult an enemy? Of course we were, so when we look back at The Breakfast Club and roll our eyes at what these kids say and do, we’re really confirming that we were just as silly and melodramatic. In that respect, The Breakfast Club remains timeless, no matter the decade.

Guess who farted.

You’ll also notice what dates the film more than anything (aside from the synth-pop soundtrack) are the exaggerated comedic moments which pander to the dummies in the crowd, such as how Andy Clark (Emilio Estevez) reacts after smoking pot, or presenting Assistant Principal Vernon (Paul Gleason) as a clueless (and abusive) buffoon. Then again, this was typical of most movies aimed at teenagers in the 80s, nearly all of which owe no-small-debt to The Breakfast Club, much like every current pop-tart on the radio should worship daily at the alter of Madonna.

Dated as it may be today, The Breakfast Club provides a cinematic snapshot moment in time. Its stars (including Molly Ringwald, Judd Nelson & Anthony Michael Hall) were as big and popular as they would ever be. The film’s aesthetic is a supreme example of perfect timing, appealing to the so-called ‘Me Generation’ more effectively than any other movie released that decade. It also forever-cemented John Hughes’ reputation as the primary purveyor of teen-centric cinema. Most importantly, even three decades later, The Breakfast Club is still a lot of fun.

EXTRAS:

• The Breakfast Club Trivia Track - an viewing option in which factoids frequently appear onscreen related to the film’s production or particular scene.
• 12-Part Documentary
• Audio Commentary featuring Anthony Michael Hell and Judd Nelson
• “Origins of the ‘Brat Pack’”
• Trailer
• Digital Copy

FKMG RATING:

(OUT OF 5)

KING KONG: Alternate Ending

Starring Fay Wray & Robert Armstrong. Directed by Marian C. Cooper & Ernest B. Schoedsack. (1933, 100 min).

Alternate Ending Restored by D.M. Anderson.

"Oh, no...it wasn't the planes. It was BEAUTY killed the beast."

"Well, buddy...beauty may have killed it, but beauty sure as hell ain't gonna clean it up. Grab a mop & shovel and get to work!"

Blu-Ray Review: MY GIRL and TROOP BEVERLY HILLS

It’s only fitting to review these two films together, for a couple of reasons. First, while neither is really a classic, an entire generation grew-up with them (much like their parents were raised on live-action Disney flicks in the 70s). The nostalgic value of both films is likely very high. Second, there’s sort-of a morbid fascination revisiting each of them two decades later, knowing how a few once-hopeful careers  have floundered.

MY GIRL
Starring Dan Aykroyd, Jamie Lee Curtis, Macaulay Culkin, Anna Chlumsky. Directed by Howard Zeff. (1991, 102min).
Sony Pictures

Obviously, My Girl is the more beloved of the two, and perhaps could arguably considered a classic by those first-rendered to tears by a mere movie. Admittedly, in 1991, it had been quite awhile since a film made for young adults aimed more for the heart than the gut.

While the oldies soundtrack provides a majority of the emotional heft of the film, the overall performances are still pretty decent. Aykroyd was always a better dramatic actor than many ever gave him credit for (despite earning an Oscar nomination for Driving Miss Daisy). As an emotionally-distant widower, he gives a remarkably subdued performance.

As for the two actual stars (Macaulay Culkin and Anna Chlumsky), this is where the morbid fascination kicks in. At the time My Girl was released, Culkin was the hottest child actor of his generation. The one-two punch of My Girl and Home Alone showed his remarkable range for a mere kid, before he ultimately descended into drugs and tabloid fodder. For those of us who remember that time, it’s hard not to watch My Girl today without wondering what could-have been.

Still, while My Girl approaches moments of surprising morbidity at times, it’s easy to see why the movie is held in high regard by so many who emptied-out Kleenex boxes sitting through it the first time. The same can’t be said for…

TROOP BEVERLY HILLS
Starring Shelley Long, Craig T. Nelson, Betty Thomas, Mary Gross, Stephanie Beacham. Directed by Jeff Kanew. (1989, 106 min).
Sony Pictures

Remember when Shelley Long was America’s Sweetheart as Diane Chambers in Cheers...cute as a button, a little blonde waif whose charm kept you from killing her when she became unbearably pretentious? She owed her entire career to that show (resulting in a few forgettable movies in the interim), but the first role she took after leaving Cheers for good was Troop Beverly Hills, the first film where hers was the sole name above the title.

Troop Beverly Hills is as shallow as its title suggests, little more than a repackaged variation of the movies Disney used to pump-out in the 70s (and would later pump-out again on their own cable channel). Long essentially plays a wealthy version of Diane Chambers here, before the kids show her what’s truly important in life.

This is by-the-numbers filmmaking, banking on Long’s public image and star power to attract audiences, which it did, though mostly after it came out of video. Troop Beverly Hills isn’t a terrible movie, but it is an extremely cynical one, which undoubtedly charmed enough kids who had no idea who Diane Chambers was.

From a morbidly fascinating standpoint, this was the first and last true star vehicle for Long. Other than a disturbingly spot-on depiction of Carol Brady in a few campy Brady Bunch films, she never became a bankable movie star, and she was soon back to guest-starring on other TV shows.

Still I can still see this one managing to amuse a few modern youngsters whose moms grew up with it.

FKMG RATING:

MY GIRL:1/2

TROOP BEVERLY HILLS:

Blu-Ray Review: JOHN FORD: DREAMING THE QUIET MAN

Narrated by Gabriel Byrne; featuring interviews with Maureen O’Hara, Martin Scorsese, Peter Bogdanovich, Jim Sheridan. Directed by Se Merry Doyle. (2012, 92 min).
Olive Films

Show me someone who doesn’t love The Quiet Man and I’ll show you someone who doesn’t love movies. It’s the crowning achievement of director John Ford’s amazing career (and his most personal film), featuring John Wayne at his most charming, Maureen O’Hara at her most beautiful & feisty, not to mention the greatest prolonged fight scene of all time. For those who do love movies, the story behind The Quiet Man is just as captivating.

What makes John Ford: Dreaming The Quiet Man so insightful and entertaining is that it’s much more than making-of documentary. Sure, we get a lot of stories about its sometimes troubled production (most notably, amusing anecdotes from Ms. O’Hara), but also interviews with such modern directors as Peter Bogdanovich (who once wrote a book about Ford) and the great Martin Scorsese, who help us develop an even greater appreciation for how unique and influential this film really was.

Maureen O'Hara...ever the feisty red-head.

Dreaming The Quiet Man is just-as-much a biography about John Ford himself, how his life experiences, ideals and Irish upbringing influenced his filmmaking career, culminating in a movie which few in Hollywood had much faith in. One of the other charming aspects of this film are the numerous moments which revisit the small village where The Quiet Man was primarily shot. Amusingly, not much has changed, and even 60+ years later, there’s still quite a bit of tourism generated by the area’s association with this film.

Ultimately, this detailed historical documentary is a perfect companion piece to the classic film itself, making the next time you revisit The Quiet Man a richer experience. My only quip (and it’s a small one) is I wish more time was dedicated to the climactic fist-fight between Sean Thornton (Wayne) and Will Danaher (Victor McLaglen). Considering it’s the most memorable and iconic segment of the movie, we get relatively little insight into how it was put together. Other than that, Dreaming the Quiet Man, like its subject, reminds us how wonderful movies are.

If you're a fan of The Quiet Man, this is a must-own.

EXTRAS:

• NUMEROUS FEATURETTES: Original Costumes; Maureen Coyne Cashman - A Quiet Man Extra; The Quiet Man Sheepdog; May Murphy Upstages John Wayne; Jack Heanue & John Daily on the Horse Race Sequence; The Annual Quiet Man Fan Club Celebration
• Maureen O’Hara Interview
• Original Trailer

FKMG RATING:

(OUT OF 5

Blu-Ray Review: THE HUNGER GAMES: MOCKINGJAY, PART 1

Starring Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson, Liam Hemsworth, Woody Harrelson, Elizabeth Banks, Julianne Moore, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Stanley Tucci, Donald Sutherland. Directed by Francis Lawrence. (2014, 123 min).

Lionsgate

Legions of fans who made Mockingjay Part 1 the biggest film of 2014 may vehemently disagree, but dividing Suzanne Collins’ last Hunger Games novel into two separate films was a creative mistake. The novel (despite being more action oriented) is arguably Collins’ weakest of the entire trilogy, adding little to the themes, character development and plot-turns established in the first two books. 

The entire story of Mockingjay could have easily been adapted into a single action-packed film with an even shorter running time than Part 1 alone. Instead, the first half has been adapted as sort-of a transitional episode, unnecessarily padded-out to feature length while still feeling like only half a movie. It’s just as relentlessly faithful to the novel as The Hunger Games and Catching Fire, but it’s also agonizingly slow at times, with relatively little real action for nearly an hour (and then only in fits and starts). Many key scenes, which comprised only a few pages of internal monologue in the novel before soldiering forward, now drag on endlessly, long after we've gotten the point.

"Hey guys...that's not how you deep-fry a turkey."

Still, these complaints can easily be seen as virtues by those who don’t want the Hunger Games saga to end. Milking the final chapter for all its worth means we get a lot more of Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen, who once-again shines in this role and manages to maintain interest even when there isn’t a hell of a lot going on. A few new characters are also introduced, some more interesting than others, such as Cressida (Natalie Dormer), a tattooed rebel who joins with Katniss for the uprising against the Capitol. Overall, the performances are once-again top-notch (though adding to the overall melancholy tone is seeing the late Phillip Seymour Hoffman in one of his last roles).

Visually and thematically, Mockingjay Part 1 is the darkest entry in the franchise. For a PG-13 film, it pulls relatively few punches in its depiction of human suffering, to the point we’re almost counting on Part 2 to alleviate our misery. In fact, the movie plays like one long set-up, stringing us along with the promise of a slam-bang finish. I suppose, in the context of the entire saga, that’s exactly how we’re intended to view Mockingjay Part 1...a dramatic pause before the big (and inevitable) fiery finale. If so, I certainly hope it is worth the wait.

That is inherently the biggest problem with Mockingjay Part 1, even regarding its place in the overall franchise. Unlike, say, The Two Towers or The Empire Strikes Back, there is absolutely zero attempt at making a complete film (just in case audience interest wanes). Hell, it doesn’t even end with a cliffhanger, just the conceit that Part 2 will ultimately justify this prolonged, two-hour tease of a movie.

As it stands, Mockingjay Part 1 is arguably be the most incomplete feature-length film of all time. You’ll be completely lost if you haven’t seen The Hunger Games & Catching Fire, and its creative success depends entirely on your anticipation that Mockingjay Part 2 will knock your socks off. Those of you already onboard will may argue otherwise, but The Hunger Games franchise really only needed to be three films, one per book. Prolonging the inevitable end, for whatever reason, lessens the overall dramatic impact of the entire trilogy.

EXTRAS: 

• Documentary: “The Mockingjay Lives: The Making of MJ1”
• Featurettes: “Straight from the Heart: A Tribute to Philip Seymour Hoffman”; “Songs of Rebellion: Lorde on Curating the Soundtrack”
• Music Video: “Yellow Flicker Beat,” by Lorde
• Deleted Scenes
• Audio Commentary by Director Francis Lawrence & Co-Producer Nina Jacobson
• Extended Preview of Insurgent
• DVD & Digital Copies

FKMG RATING:

1/2

(OUT OF 5)

Sneak Preview Clip of ConTV's LAST FAN STANDING

from ESQUIRE MAGAZINE:

Bruce Campbell aficionados have been waiting for an update on when the Army of Darkness icon would be making his debut as a television game-show host ever since CONtv announced Last Fan Standing a month ago. And now Esquire can exclusively reveal that the wait will end on March 9, and even has a teaser clip to help get you through the next ten days. 

Rest In Peace, Leonard Nimoy

Leonard Nimoy (1931-2015)

MAGIC (1978) and the Scariest Movie Trailer...EVER!

Starring Anthony Hopkins, Ann-Margret, Burgess Meredith, Ed Lauter. Directed by Richard Attenborough. (1978, 107 min).

There were three major reasons 1978's Magic was a must-see when I was 14.

First, it costars Ann-Margret. She was my biggest celebrity crush back when most of my peers were ogling Farrah Fawcett. My teen lust may have seemed kinda weird to my friends, especially since she was old enough to be my mother (in fact she was older than my mother), but I didn't care. In the 60s and 70s, the woman was flat-out hot. I only wished the local Spenser's Gifts would have carried a few of her posters along with the Farrah-Fawcetts & Lynda Carters. Such pin-ups probably didn't exist though, because even though Ann-Margret didn't actually appear in that many good movies, she was occasionally taken seriously as an actress, especially after 1971's Carnal Knowledge (which isn't as much deviant fun as the title implies). Still, she was my definition of a woman.

Anyway, when Magic was released in 1978, Ann-Margret was still relatively young, still smokin' hot and starring in a horror movie, second only to disaster films as my favorite genre.

Second, I think ventriloquist dummies are scary as hell...I mean the traditional, old school dummies with bow-ties, giant ears, painted faces and eyes the size of billiard balls that look like they’re trying to suck your soul. Yeah, they’re meant to be humorous little wise-crackers, just like those scary-ass wooden soldier nutcrackers are supposed to be a celebration of Christmas cheer. Christmas in Hell maybe.

Ventriloquist dummies have been subjects of horror on numerous occasions. One of the greatest Twilight Zone episodes was a psychological mind-fucker featuring Cliff Robertson as tortured artist whose connection to his own puppet creation has you wondering who is controlling who. Earlier still was a British anthology film, Dead of Night (1945); its final chapter features a ventriloquist who thinks his dummy is alive. And although much of the rest of the movie seems kind of quaint today, that last chapter is still terrifying.

This means I'm not the only one who thinks these freaky-ass puppets are inherently scary. What's truly unsettling about them is, unlike Chucky from the Child's Play series, they don't simply go on a killing spree...their ultimate goal is to control you.

The third and final reason that made Magic a must-see was the teaser trailer that kept popping up on TV back then. It featured nothing but a creepy-ass rhyme spoken by Fats, the dummy from the film:

It’s a great ad, made during a bygone era when promoting a film didn’t always involve giving a clue to what the story was about. What it did was make the movie look a hundred times scarier than it actually was (which I suppose was the point). Deceptive? Sure, but the trailer was still artistic and very clever.

Teasers today don’t really tease an audience. They present the movie like Denny’s presents the food on their menu; all you gotta do is look at a picture and know what you’re gonna get. Seeing what your plate is gonna look like, as opposed to endless adjectives describing the ingredients, simply makes ordering a lot easier. Same with modern movie trailers. The Transformers movies may suck total shit (and if you don’t agree, wait a few years and watch them again as free-thinking adult), but at least the trailers leave absolutely no mystery to what ticket buyers can expect. And with admission prices being what they are today, moviegoers want a guarantee they’ll like what they‘re paying ten bucks to see. With the cost of most movies, I truly do understand why modern trailers practically give away every single plot point.

Still, there’s something to be said about not laying all your cards on the table. Back in 1977, the teaser for Close Encounters of the Third Kind offered absolutely no plot details or visual effects. Most of us intrigued enough by the trailer to catch the movie in theaters were absolutely blown away by the appearance of the mothership during the climax. We had no idea it was coming, a wonderful, jaw-dropping surprise.

Then there’s Magic, starring Anthony Hopkins and Ann-Margaret. It was directed by Richard Attenborough (director of numerous films people claim to love because they think they are supposed to, but best-known as the billionaire grandpa in Jurassic Park), and written by William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, All the President’s Men & The Princess Bride). The plot’s more-or-less the same as the aforementioned puppet-horror flicks, only with a lot more talent & cash behind it.

Yet, Magic isn’t really that scary. When I finally saw it, I felt like I’d been duped, even though Ms. Margret looked as fine as ever. The movie’s okay, and maybe just a little creepier today now that Anthony Hopkins has become part of our cultural consciousness as Hannibal Lector. But there’s nothing in the film nearly as terrifying as Fats’ evil grin and creepy-ass rhyme from the trailer. But as much as the ad scared me, my kid sister was so freaked out that she had to leave the room whenever it showed up on TV.

Being that it was in my job description to torment my sister whenever possible, I had the bright idea to record the commercial with my cassette player, sneak into her room while she slept, stick it under her bed and crank up the volume. A buddy of mine, Rick, who was sleeping over that night, also suggested waiting until she awoke to Fats’ voice and throw a Charlie McCarthy doll at her. And I agree, that would have been awesome, save for the fact I didn't have a Charlie McCarthy doll because no child in history has ever fucking wanted one.

Anyway, we snuck into her room at two-in-the-morning and played the tape, which didn’t go quite as planned, mainly because, even though she was my sister, she wasn’t a complete idiot. Audio technology was still in the dark ages back then, and recording directly from the TV speaker made Fats sound like he was manning a Burger King drive-thru window. It didn’t help that me and Rick were loudly snickering just outside her room, impressed with our own cleverness. She didn’t scream or piss herself like I’d hoped. She did, however, grab the tape recorder and threw it at us. It put a dent in the wall, which I ended up having to pay for with several weeks’ worth of allowance.

The film may have been disappointing, but Magic still boasts the scariest movie trailer of all time. And after revisiting it all these years later, I'll probably have to sleep with the lights on again.

If Oscar Winners Were Honest During Their Acceptance Speeches

1. GEORGE CLOONEY

"I guess this means you finally forgive me for Batman and Robin."

2. QUENTIN TARANTINO

"I'd like to share this award with all the legendary directors I've ripped-...er...paid homage to over the years."

3. MERYL STREEP

"Another trophy? Fabulous! I need one for my guest bathroom."

4. CUBA GOODING, JR.

"If you thought Jerry Maguire was great, wait'll you see Boat Trip!"

5. JEAN DUJARDIN

"None of you even know who the hell I am!"

6. BEN AFFLECK

"Suck it, haters...and I'm the next fucking Batman, too!"

7. MEL GIBSON

"Look at what those crazy Jews gave me."

8. HALLE BERRY

"Thank God I nabbed this before y'all saw Swordfish!"

9. JAMES CAMERON

"There's something 'titanic' in my pants, ladies."

10. THE 2015 WINNERS FOR BEST SOUND MIXING

"We'd like to thank our families, the only folks in America not taking a bathroom break right now."