Follow That Bird

1985 first Sesame Street movie ever!

Rating: 14/20

Plot: A nosey social worker decides that Big Bird doesn't belong with the Sesame Street gang and needs to live with his own kind. She finds a bird family to adopt him, but he gets homesick for his imaginary friend Snuffleupagus and decides to journey back home. The muppets of Sesame Street, upon hearing that Big Bird is missing from his new home, decide to venture out to search for him.

Did you know Snuffleupagus has a first name? Aloysius Snuffleupagus. Jen tells me that originally Snuffleupagus was an imaginary friend for Big Bird but that they eventually had to ditch that idea because children were confused. "Snuffleupagus" is also apparently a move similar to teabagging where you put your scrotum on somebody's nose. That doesn't happen anywhere in Follow That Bird, by the way, so it's safe to show this to your children. Here's another fun fact: Elmo's in this movie, right near the end when Big Bird comes home. He pokes his head out of a window and says something in a voice that is not the Elmo voice we know and probably despise. Anyway, the movie. Why is it a 14/20 instead of a 20/20? No Roosevelt Franklin. I haven't looked this up or anything, but I'm fairly positive mid-80's movie rules made it clear that you had to have black representation in your movies because black people weren't allowed to vote back then and couldn't be president. Forcing Hollywood to include at least one black character in each movie was the government's way of compromising. Which is a good thing because it really started the healing process after segregation and slavery and all that. The makers of Follow That Bird already had Gordon, the very realistic human muppet from the television show, in a prominent role and had no use for Roosevelt Franklin. Plus, Roosevelt Franklin had a tendency to frighten honkies anyway, and honkies were the main audience for Follow That Bird. How bitchin' would a Roosevelt Franklin movie be, by the way? Damn, my hips are moving just thinking about that. But no, the Sesame Street people are too busy with Elmo, the "idiot" who replaced Sesame Street's original "idiot" (Big Bird) and somehow became the only character who mattered anymore. Maybe it's because I didn't grow up with Elmo, but that little red monster (not to be confused with the little blue monster Grover who my brother refers to as "the mentally-challenged muppet" although if you think about it, they're all kind of mentally-challenged) has "future serial killer" written all over his fluffy little face. Where are his parents anyway? Dismembered in the basement? But I digress. You honkies want to hear about this movie. Anybody who knows me knows I'm a sucker for puppets. I really like the effects that blend these lovable characters into the world outside Sesame Street. No, they don't look realistic. They still look like puppets, but they look more natural flying planes, driving slick-looking automobiles, or using telephones than you might think. Muppet Gordon is especially great to see in such a heroic role, and a death-defying stunt involving a slow-moving truck with a cage on the back of it and a slow-moving Volkswagon Beetle has to be seen to be believed. There's a lot of music in this, much provided by the legendary Van Dyke Parks (Jungle Book songsmith, Brian Wilson cohort) and one song started off by none other than Waylon Jennings. The "Bluebird of Happiness" song and its accompanying imagery might be the most depressing thing I've seen in my entire life. I'd like to see some statistics on how many 3-6 year olds committed suicide in '85 compared to previous years. Anyway, other than the toddler suicides and veiled racism, this is fun for the whole family! Oh, and to bring things full circle: Snuffleupagus has the worst singing voice I have ever heard.

Happy Feet

2006 Best Animated Feature

Rating: 12/20

Plot: Mumble is a retarded penguin because his father, Elvis the Penguin, dropped him when he was in the egg. And before you start, I'm well aware that "retarded" is considered politically incorrect, and I apologize for its use here. I don't like the word much either, and I almost never use it. I'm doing my best to get some blog traffic, so maybe throwing the R-word around will get some people involved in those advocacy groups who are always ticked off with Lady Gaga or Lebron James to accidentally find their way to my humble little blog. And I'm going to do my very best to make this one of my best-written reviews ever so that once the advocates for people like Lady Gaga and Lebron James get here, they'll read this and be hooked. And then, boom! Readers! Anyway, back to Mumble. While all the other penguins use their singing voices and over-produced pop songs to find the perfect mate, something that Morgan Freeman told me is actual legitimate scientific information, Mumble can only tap dance. He's an outcast, and some of the other penguins, each inexplicably with different accents, blame him for the lack of fish. Mumble runs off with some Hispanic penguins to find some aliens who might be responsible for the famine.

First off, who's the audience for a PG-rated movie like this? I can't imagine this appealing to most adults despite the modernization of some pop tunes from their childhood (like the Artist Who's Now Known As Prince Again) to make them sound like annoying modern pop tunes. And I'd think the plot would be too confusing for children, and there are some pretty intense scenes that might make it inappropriate for younger viewers. I did watch it with Sophie, however, and she seemed to fall asleep just fine during it. Plus, I don't normally think about Prince as a good soundtrack choice for a kiddie flick. It wouldn't surprise me if the Dreamworks people decided to throw "Darling Nikki" in their next feature though.

Secondly, I'm just going to say it: I'm sick of penguins. I've seen them marching while Morgan Freeman tells me all about it. I've seen those annoying little guys in Madagascar and in the television spin-off that my girls used to annoy me with all the time. And although it's extremely unlikely that somebody will force me to watch the upcoming Jim Carrey Mr. Popper's Penguins movie, its existence still makes me tremble and weep. Don't get me wrong. If I'm at a zoo, I enjoy seeing the sad little penguins in their glass box as much as the next guy, mostly because it makes me feel superior as a human being and gives me a chance to wallow in my awesomeness, so to speak. I'm the guy at the penguin exhibit who's torn his shirt off like Hulk Hogan and flaunts his stuff, flexing and beating my chest and trash-talking the birds. "Emperor, my ass! Check out these nipples! Do you birds even HAVE nipples? Booyah!" And to answer your question: Yes, I have been forcefully removed from zoos. Unfairly, I might add. I've seen a giant turtle having an orgasm at that same zoo, and you're tell me that my nipples are inappropriate for children's eyes? What's wrong with this world? Back to the penguins--these animals are animated very well (more on that below), but all penguins kind of look the same (I know. . .borderline penguin racism there!) and there's not enough variety in their movements to make them interesting for the duration of this too-long movie.

The animation is second to none. The Antarctic setting and all of the animals look terrific. There's a great realism to these characters and their surroundings, and if they weren't talking in weird accents and performing choreographed dance routines, you'd almost mistake them for the real thing. But really, what's the point? I think I like my animated movies to look animated. I'm not sure cute penguins would have made this a better movie but it might have made the characters more likable. I didn't like a single one of these penguins--not the three or four voiced by Robin Williams, not the protagonist voiced by one of those Hobbits, especially not his parents, not his girlfriend. None of them. They just aren't likable, and the disjointed adventure that Mumble goes on is predictable and bland. A few of those aforementioned intense action sequences make little sense scientifically and only work to clash with the realistic look of the movie.

Cars actually should have beat this for Best Animated Picture. Or Monster House. There are things that annoy me about both of those movies, but the onslaught of pop music and black and white dance choreography drove me bonkers. It was like a more-polished Dreamworks movie with a story that I couldn't care about. And very very loud. There's a nice message in this movie that's hammered into you like you're a baby seal being clubbed to death by whoever hilariously clubs baby seals to death (again, the right search might bring anti-seal-clubbing advocates this way), but after so many penguin movies, I'm not sure I'm ready to keep this particular bird alive anyway.

Baby seal and retarded people advocates, Lady Gaga fans, and anti-racism and anti-nipple people: Don't forget to subscribe/follow my blog for more brilliantly-written reviews just like this one! Boom!

Anvil: The Story of Anvil

2008 heavy metal documentary

Rating: 17/20

Plot: Lips and Robb Reiner (note the extra "b") have rocked as the founding members of heavy metal almost-wases Anvil since they met at fourteen. Now well into their fifties, they haven't given up the dream of becoming
rock 'n' roll gods. This documentary follows them on a disastrous European tour and the recording of their thirteenth album as they try to fulfill their dreams.

"Out in the schoolyard--
Little peaches play,
Rubbin' their beaves,
Got a lot to say."

At first, you just think you're watching some This Is Spinal Tap knock-off. Then, you realize it's not a mockumentary at all, that Anvil are real hosers who have been reaching for rock 'n' roll stars for about forty years. There are comic moments, including more than a few that recall Spinal Tap, but it's the very human moments that makes this one so special. You really grow to like Lips and Reiner, connect with their struggles, and root for them to taste at least a little bit of success. And I'll tell you without any shame, that I teared up quite a bit during one scene. It's likely going to be my favorite movie moment of the year, in fact. Sonically, Anvil's music isn't really my bag, but I was really impressed with Robb's drumming abilities. His stick work made it impossible for me not to hold up the devil horns. And I'll tell you what--I'd consider myself an artistic success if I had fans like Mad Dog and the guy who drank beer through his nose. A roller coaster of a documentary that juggles humorous moments, really sad scenes, and ultimately touching and beautiful footage this well should be seen by anybody regardless of how much they like bands that play their Flying-V's with a dildo.

Sir Kent recommended this little gem to me.

Rock 'n' Roll High School

1979 high school musical

Rating: 13/20

Plot: Thanks to rock 'n' roll, the students at Vince Lombardi High School have no interest in obeying the rules or getting an education. After yet another principal has a nervous breakdown, the school board hires Ms. Togar to clean things up and make the school a place of learning. Her agenda conflicts with student Riff Randell, a big fan of punk rockers The Ramones.

This punksploitative teenage comedy's got less laughs than Fast Times at Ridgemont's High, but at least it's got Clint Howard and The Ramones. The Ramones, by the way, display some terrific acting chops. Dee Dee Ramone was so bad that his lines were reduced to "Alright! The pizza's here!" but I can't imagine he's much worse than Joey Ramone who mumbles unintelligibly during his scenes. They get their chance to perform a ton of songs though, so if you're a fan, this is worth checking out. A couple of the songs work like music videos, especially during their first appearance when they show up in their "tour bus," a convertible in which they sit like only punk rockers could. There's also quite a bit of concert footage, and you've got to love a band with a lead singer who needs subtitles for the lyrics. Despite the solid analogy comparing punk rock haters to Nazis with the calling of Principal Togar's plan the "Final Solution," this is really like cartoon punk, almost like Disney decided to make a punk rock movie. Other than The Ramones, the characters aren't especially memorable, and the humor falls completely flat in this low-budget flick. Roger Corman produced.

Heavy Metal

1981 science fiction cartoon

Rating: 12/20

Plot: A space sphere of throbbing green light disintegrates an astronaut and then tells his daughter a few stories. It rocks pretty hard!

I'm not the audience for this. A white suburban teenager who is angry with his parents for no real reason and who can't wait to bust out of his pants, a guy with a goat's head in his closet and a bunch of missing socks--he's the audience. This is an episodic collection of animated sci-fi shenanigans, definitely a hit 'n' miss affair, but at least half of them contain the imagery you'd expect to see in a fantasy geek's wettest dream. All the cartoon women are gifted mammararily and plot developments give plenty of excuses to allow the nipples to make appearances. There's even a scene with robot-on-human sex if you're into that sort of thing. I know you are which is why I'm mentioning it. I'm not a fan of the music although it was good to hear Devo and even see a really cool alien depiction of them. I liked the weird-looking creatures that inhabited these stories, almost like cast-offs from the Mos Eisley cantina, and I really liked the opening shots of an astronaut driving his hot rod home after a hard day's work. Air Force zombies, a Hulkish figure with the great name of Hanover Fiste, a bit of sci-fi noir with ugly animation to match an ugly Robert Crumb-esque New York, and chunks of the otherwise-dull climactic story featured on the above poster are high points. The stories are animated in slightly different styles which gives it some variety, but after a while, enough's enough. You get frustrated that it doesn't make a lot of sense, and you don't even care about seeing any more animated nudity because you've already shot your wad. So to speak. There's enough here to make a teenage boy say the word badass multiple times by whatever the middle schooler equivalent of a water cooler, so I guess you almost have to look at it as a success.

A Nous la Liberte

1931 French satire

Rating: 17/20

Plot: Emile and Louis are tired of wasting away in a prison cell. They long for freedom, so much that they feel the need to sing about it even. They attempt an escape, and while Emile makes it to the other side of a pair of walls, Louis is captured again. Or maybe it's the other way around. Anyway, the guy who breaks out winds up becoming a rich and successful owner of a factory that makes phonographs, a device that apparently played MP3's back in the 1930s. Eventually, Louis also, regardless of his actual intention, succeeds in breaking out of jail and meets up with his buddy when he gets a job at the factory.

It's just a guess, but I'm thinking Rene Clair wasn't totally ready to embrace the new technology that would allow the characters of his films to speak, just like his buddy Charlie Chaplin. So much of A Nous la Liberte reminds me of silent comedy, and Clair tells the story of these two guys visually a lot of the time. And visually, this movie's really impressive. I'm not sure there's anything I'd describe as fancy with the camera work or its movements, but the cinematography definitely has more of a modern feel than almost all the other comedies I've seen from the 1930s. So although we do get to hear the characters communicate, I'm not sure we really need to because the visuals do a good enough job telling the story. We definitely don't need to hear them sing. The songs aren't very good anyway, and if you call this a musical, you have to call it a half-assed one. Satirically, it seems pretty subversive, actually exploring similar ideas as Chaplin's Modern Times. Maybe that's why the studio sued Chaplin for cinematic plagiarism, but really, I don't see that much that these movies have in common. I'm a sucker for great visuals, it's one of those whimsical French dealies, and this is just the kind of comedy that hits my sweet spot. Yes, that's a reference to my taint.

A very cool Cory recommendation. I think the movie poster probably first attracted him.

The Little Mermaid

1989 Disney cartoon

Rating: 14/20 (Jen: 18/20; Abbey: 19/20; Sophie: ?/20)

Plot: Spoiled, whiny, horny teenage mermaid Ariel has an obsession with the human world, especially after saving the life of a hunky but otherwise nondescript prince, a guy who could very well be the same prince who's in all the other Disney prince and princess movies. And frankly, that makes him a womanizer. Boy, don't try to front. I-I know just-just what you are-are-are. Lollipop, must mistake me--you're the sucker to think I would be a victim not another. But I digress. Ariel's mad at her dad, the king of the ocean, and against the wishes of her Jiminy Lobster, she gets some bippity-boppity-boo help from a maleficent but extremely hot sea witch. She's given temporary legs and has three days to get a smooch from the nondescript prince or the sea witch gets to turn her into a withered piece of poop with eyes. The catch? She doesn't get to use her voice! Oh, snap!

I believe this is regarded as a Disney modern classic, but it's really pretty. . .what's the word? Meeee-diiiii-ocre. It's the Disney people going through the motions. The animation is. . .what's the word? Reeeeeeally flaaaaaat. A possible exception might be the "Under the Sea" sequence, but that musical number really should have been a lot better than it was. I'm not sure there's a single lovable character in this. In fact, they're all kind of. . .how do you say it? Annoyyyyying stock cardboard cut-ooooooouuuuuuts. Ariel is just a cute little bundle of irresponsibility and a really dangerous role-model for little girls. Like most folk tales, the ending of this would have been more satisfying if Ariel was punished for her stupidity. A final scene with Ursula pointing and laughing and the lobster saying, "I tried to warn her, King Triton, but she just wouldn't listen to me, probably because I'm a lobster!" with Ariel turned into a really sorrowful piece of poop with eyes would have been perfect. Ariel was irritating, and I definitely liked the character more after they decided to shut her up for about a half hour. Also irritating: all the sex in this one. I believe this is the movie where Disney animators gave one of the human characters an erection. That's disturbing if you notice it, but the thinly-veiled references to sex are especially bothersome. This is really a movie about the sexual awakening of a young girl. Phallic sharks attack her, and it's hard to ignore the subtext there. Then she falls in love with Prince Handsome. Why? Well, she sees him, first from far off and then up close. It's all physical with Ariel. I can't remember if the line "I want to jump his bones, Scuttle" is actually in the movie or not, but it might as well have been. She loses her fins, gets herself a vagina (not sure if mermaids have those), and longs for sexy time with her man. There's some weird sexual tension going on with Ursula and Triton, too, and I'm not sure what that's all about. I'm sure if a Little Mermaid prequel was ever made (No, Disney people, I am not asking for this!), you'd find out that Triton and Ursula used to be an item back in fish college or something. Ursula is one of Disney's lamer baddies, by the way, but she does get the best song in the movie. Ariel's "What's the Word?" song makes me sick to my stomach. I've not thought about this from a feminist perspective, but it seems they'd have a problem with one of the movie's messages--women should just shut up and be there to look pretty. It's really a shame that the great Buddy Hackett ended his movie career voicing Scuttle, actually in the sequel to this, a movie that I can almost guarantee will never be on this blog.

Saucy!

Rat Pfink a Boo Boo

1966 superhero B-movie

Rating: 5/20 (Mark: 11/20)

Plot: After twenty-two years, Mark and Shane get to sit down and watch a movie they had only dreamed of seeing. Rat Pfink a Boo Boo! Shane decides that he likes technology after all, stops lamenting the death of the video store and even mom 'n' pop record stores, and declares that he is no longer a luddite. He agrees to be a guinea pig for the latest movie technology involving microchips implanted into the hypothalamus but passes away during the surgery. Fortunately, he died the happiest of men because he got to see Rat Pfink a Boo Boo before he died. His life flashes before his eyes, but he realizes it's not his life at all because he never stood up in the sidecar of a moving motorcycle driven by his sidekick, a mentally-challenged groundskeeper. He would never have been able to point with that kind of superheroic enthusiasm.

I really feel bad about giving this movie a 5/20 because a) I really really enjoyed watching it, and b) it's a borderline classic for a movie made for twenty dollars. In fact, despite the lowest production values you're ever likely to see (just check out those superhero costumes constructed of various articles of clothing garnered at Sears), completely inept filmmaking, and the worst comedy writing ever (admittedly, I did chuckle when Rat Pfink reminded Boo Boo what their one weakness is), you do get what I'd call some iconic moments. I want a poster of Rat Pfink and Boo Boo on the Pfinkmobile, Rat Pfink standing like Batman or Superman wouldn't have to balls to stand and pointing straight ahead. I'd probably stare at it for hours a day and never get any work done though. The story's completely schizophrenic. For the first forty minutes, there's not a single clue that this is even a superhero movie. It's barely a story even, a psychological non-thriller about some punks (one who likes to hide out in just the right trash can) crank-calling the girlfriend of a pop singer in order to later kidnap her and demand a ransom. Then, boom. Superheroes and comedy. There's an endless fight scene in a what I assume is Ray Dennis Steckler's (The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies) backyard followed by an endless car chase. Then, boom. A killer gorilla. So Rat Pfink a Boo Boo (the title, by the way, was a mistake, but Steckler couldn't afford to fix it) has a little bit of everything unless you're looking for a plot. It doesn't have much of one of those. Mark enjoyed the "colorful" black and white and the gnarley go-go music.

Our heroes:

Movie Club Pick for March: The Rock-afire Explosion

2008 documentary

Rating: 14/20 (Jen: 15/20)

Plot: A look at the history of the Showbiz Pizza Place animatronic animal house band, The Rock-afire Explosion. The 'Splosion's fame was short-lived, but Creative Engineering, Inc. founder and band creator Aaron Fechter noticed a strong Internet fanbase early in the 21st Century. This documentary explores Rock-afire merchandise collectors, some who've even purchased their own Rock-afire Explosion in order to never have to completely grow up.

It's probably fitting that Michael Jackson footage found his way into this thing. Like the King of Pop, there are some people in this documentary who just can't or won't grow up. Jen seemed more startled about it all than I did. Me, I was filled with nostalgia while watching this thing. I loved Showbiz Pizza Place growing up (not that I ever dreamed of owning the Rock-afire Explosion like the guy in the documentary), and I'm sure those special trips to the restaurant contributed to my love of puppets and talking animals today. After all, it was the place where a "kid can be a kid," no matter how crappy the pizza tasted. So it was fun for me seeing the old commercials, footage of the band itself, a guy blowing in a Nintendo game to get it working. A scene in this also caused me to flash back to a turning point in my life. There's a scene near the end of this thing where you can hear the mechanisms, the clanking sound that the band members' parts make when they move around. I remember as a slightly older kid sitting up close to the Rock-afire Explosion and hearing that same sound and thinking, "My God! These guys aren't real at all! It's time for me to grow up." Soon after, I told my friend that it sounded like Mitzi Mozzarella needed some grease and that I was man enough to handle the task. I think that was the end of that friendship actually. My favorite scene in this was when they're taking Mitzi apart. It's like a Mitzi striptease, and like all my favorite stripteases, it goes all the way below the skin, right to the parts you've got to oil. Hot! I liked seeing the behind-the-scenes stuff in the Creative Engineering, Inc. factory. I was amazed at how quickly it all came together since animatronics, according to Fechter, is "everything in the universe put together." But he was making gasoline-conserving automobiles and leaf-eaters in 1973 with no interest in singing animals and then by 1978 had this band together. I really thought Fechter, a college graduate at 19, was a semi-impressive guy. Jen was less impressed, but I thought the guy was a genius. I wondered just what this guy could have accomplished if his brain wasn't as messy as the empty factory he still owns. He seems like the type of guy who should be saving the planet. And that sort of brings us to the central question this documentary explores--is the creation of an animatronic pizza joint band enough of a legacy? It doesn't seem to me that Fechter would say it was. He had bigger dreams left unfulfilled. The fans of the band, however, would surely tell you otherwise. There's a weird contrast set up by all this. You've got Chris Thrash (seriously, is that a real name?) who's had his dream realized just by owning his own Rock-afire Explosion and poor Fechter who, in the interview segments and that sad tour of Creative Engineering, seemed to have trouble deciding whether he was perfectly content or completely dejected. I could have done without the Cannibal Run-esque outtakes at the end or the whole thing about Thrash finding his Mrs. Thrash, she of the giant chest band-aid, and marrying her at skating rink or Fechter apparently hooking up with Rock-afire groupie who realized that Fatz Geronimo would never be interested in nailing her and figured Fechter was the next best thing.

Mitzi, if you're reading this, call me.

8 Mile

2002 Perry Como biopic

Rating: 13/20

Plot: Li'l Bunny Man (or something) lives in a mobile home with his mother and a little girl who is either his sister or his daughter. He works a tedious job in a factory but has big dreams of somebody making it big as a lounge singer. He goes to his friend's club to participate in rap battles since that's apparently the only there anybody has to do in Detroit, but once on stage, he chokes every single time. Meanwhile, there's a mom's boyfriend, there's a girl, and there's a rival rap-battlin' gang who are up to no good. Where's the Insane Clown Posse when you need them?

This would be a better movie if they gave me some reason to care a little more. They almost got there. I felt for Eminem's character, ostensibly based on the real Eminem. He's set up as the underdog nicely enough, but I never really bought in to that conflict with the New World Order or whatever they were called, and his other girl problems, work problems, and mobile home problems just seemed too much like movie problems. When things really start to go downhill for Bunny Rabbit Boy, it's such a quick succession of troubles. Bam bam bam. Hardships hit the guy faster than his lyrical flow. Eminem the actor is fine, but (and keep in mind that I'm not a rap battlin' aficionado or anything) I really couldn't see how he was any better at the contest thingy than the other guys. Kim Basinger plays his mother like she's unsure about the character, and the late Brittany Murphy might as well have been made out of cardboard. The music's completely appropriate, and I'll let you decide for yourself whether or not I mean that as a positive or negative. I enjoyed watching 8 Mile despite its bordering on either a vanity project or either a rip-off or update of Saturday Night Fever. It almost felt inappropriate to watch this without my b-b-b-boogie shoes near the end. So there were lots of things I enjoyed about this movie, enough to make me glad I watched it, but there was also so much that just caused me to throw my hands in the air and wave them like I just don't care. And by the way, would you call that an indeterminate ending? Unless a sequel planned, it seems that this just leaves Li'l Foo Foo in a situation where he's going to get the crap beaten out of him again, right? I mean, he called them gay and all.

Note: I have informed my principal that I will not be returning next year because I'm going to try to start my career as a battle rapper. 8 Mile inspired me, but a fortune cookie confirmed that the decision was a good one. Wish me luck.

Head

1968 psychedicasploitation

Rating: 16/20

Plot: None really.

So it's a product of its time, the technicolor acid-drenched psychedelic late-60s. And it stars the Monkees who don't quite have the charisma or charm of the Fab Four and, as really more of a joke TV band, didn't have the musical chops or pedigree to be involved in anything musically or visually trippy. And sure, some of the visual effects date it and the poster is awfully yellow. But for whatever reason, this freeform trek through the subconscious works. And the stream-of-conscious script by director Bob Rafelson and none other than Jack Nicholson is frequently clever satirically and makes it work as a metafilm. As a story, it's spilled soup, a hodgepodge of spilled soups actually that would likely scald a lot of people, but it does have this way of weaving in and out of itself in fun and surprising ways. The songs aren't too bad either. They're lower shelf psychedelic numbers maybe, but they still work here. Add Annette Funicello and a cameo appearance by Frank Zappa and you've got yourself a movie! And no they're not the Beatles, but this is loads better than the weirdo equivalent Magical Mystery Tour movie. And if you look hard enough through the surrealist sludge, you'll very likely find a little meaning, too. Sneakily intelligent and delightfully quirky, Head is a nice little relic that is worth seeing for fans of the goofball genre.

Bob Roberts

1992 political satire

Rating: 16/20

Plot: Ultra-conservative folk singer Bob Roberts wants to be a senator. A film crew follows him on his campaign while reporter Bugs Raplin tries to uncover a story of corruption.

As I've here stated ad nauseum, I love the mockumentary format. Generally, you don't 100% buy what's going on in your typical mockumentary, but you forgive them because they're hilarious. Bob Roberts isn't your typical mockumentary. It's not laugh-out-loudly hilarious, but it's got the realism. The cast, including all the extras, is gigantic, but they step on each other's lines like they would in real life and none of their actions seem extraneous or unnatural, helping me buy every inch of what was happening on the screen. That's actually pretty scary when you think about it. Bob Roberts is like a mockumentary that Robert Altman would have made. And although I didn't exactly laugh, the biting satire made me nod in appreciation more than any movie I can remember. It's an impressive achievement for first-time director Tim Robbins who also wrote the thing, starred as the titular right-winger/singer, and co-wrote the songs. It must have been exhausting. After all, tongue-lashing a nation for its hypocrisy, shortsidedness, and naivete is tiring work. This wouldn't click with everybody, and like a lot of great movies, it'll offend some people. Giancarlo Esposito as the reporter, Alan Rickman as an advisor, and Gore Vidal as the incumbent are all very good. I also dug all the Bob Dylan references, some album covers and the "Subterranean Homesick Blues" thing.

The Happiness of the Katakuris

2001 black comic musical (with claymation!)

Rating: 14/20

Plot: The titular family lives in the middle of nowhere, operating a bed-and-breakfast that nobody visits because the dad heard that a new road was going to be constructed that would be great for business. The family's far from happy. The son's got a criminal background, and the daughter is recently divorced. But their luck changes when they actually get a customer. Then their luck changes again when the customer commits suicide. They decide to cover it up. Soon, more customers arrive and wind up dead. Apparently, that's a problem. They sing about it!

This one starts with a woman in a restaurant eating soup. She finds a demon thing in the soup ("Waiter, there's a demon in my soup!") and the whole scene morphs into claymation. The demon steals her uvula and flies off. Eventually, a bird gets involved and the grandfather of the family throws some firewood at it from an absurd distance and hits it. Then, we get to meet the Katakuris. I've got no idea what the demon or the woman's uvula had to do with anything. This is the second Takashi Miike movie I've seen in the last couple weeks. He's the type of director who needs to calm down, have somebody gift him a funnel, or hire an assistant to throw cold water in his face every twenty-three minutes or so. This is a wild ride, not really letting up after the scene with the uvula-thieving demon, and the mashing together of genres (the Sound of Music meets Dawn of the Dead description on the poster is appropriate) is almost unnerving. But in a delightful way! You can go into this movie expecting the unexpected, but Miike will be a step ahead of you. It's like he's discovered the 3-D equivalent to "unexpected," and uses it to attack the viewer as he also assaults with tacky color, gross imagery, gross sound effects, and tacky musical numbers. You know how you sometimes come across a video clip of footage from a Japanese game show and you watch it and think, "Everybody in Japan must be nuts!"? This is the movie equivalent to that. Nothing's right about The Happiness of the Katakuris. It's unapologetically dopey and covered in a few thick and raunchy layers of cheese. The music really is terrible, dated Japanese pop with embarrassingly terrible lyrics. You really have to sort of endure the musically numbers. The onslaught of that with the gross-out imagery and the seemingly random metamorphosis into claymation is enough to make you dizzy. But again, it's in a delightful way! The humor's black, absurdly black, and if you can't laugh at death, this probably isn't the movie for you. As unhinged as this is, it all manages to keep things together for an (expected?) feel-good ending. This definitely isn't for everybody. In fact, it's probably not for very many people at all, but if you think you might be the type of person who would like a movie where one of the first five words in the script is "uvula," you might want to give it a shot.

Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter

2001 religious kung-fu musical horror comedy

Rating: 12/20

Plot: I haven't read it, but I think this might be based on John's the Book of Revelation.

Yes, that's Santo on the cover, side-by-side with Jesus and ready to fight lesbian vampires. And in the middle is Mary Magnum in that tight little red leather number. Fetching. Making Jesus an action hero is dangerous business, especially since a lot of religious folk don't have much of a sense of humor. But I'm not sure Christians would be too appalled with the character Himself since I don't think He does anything Jesus wouldn't have done like Scorsese had Him doing in The Last Temptation of Christ. Unless bad puns are offensive. In fact, even though the title hero is your typical overblown action hero, he is the hero. He fights evil, and he quotes scripture. What's likely more blasphemous is the use of Santo. El Santo in Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter can't wrestle and is portly. When watching this movie, your first thought (other than "This is blasphemous!") would probably be, "I think this might have been made on the cheap." And you'd be right. Your third thought would probably be, "This was made in 2001? No way! It's got to be from the 70s!" But there's a charm to the proceedings, and the script, littered with (intentionally?) bad punnage and silly action hero banter, is funny enough. I found myself laughing more than I really wanted to. For whatever reason, hearing Jesus deliver the line "I'll need to buy some wood. . .for stakes!" was hilarious. I also thought the spinning crucifix used as a Batman-esque transition between scenes was clever. I also liked a scene where about three hundred baddies get out of an SUV. Not all the comedy worked though, evidenced by a scene where Jesus has a conversation with a bowl of cherries. The bowl of cherries actually tells him to find El Santo. I can't decide if seeing Jesus and a priest hanging out at a Hooters-type restaurant is funny or not. There's a lot of kung-fu in this movie, and it won't exactly make you think of Bruce Lee. The fight scenes often seemed endless, and if the guy who played Jesus (Phil Caracas [Wait a second! Isn't the guy who plays Jesus in the Mel Gibson movie named Caracas?]) had any martial arts training, they wasted their obviously limited funds on it. There is a scene where a character uses intestines as a weapon though. I should have started making a list of those movies a long time ago. This is also a musical, and although the songs were only slightly more tolerable than Repo: The Genetic Opera's numbers, there at least was some eclecticism. You had punk, techno-robot-lounge, keyboard blipping, 80s feel-good movie rock, Mexicali funk, cheesy lounge, neo-funk with vocoder, dance music, retarded jazz, and my personal favorite--a really creepy song where somebody whispered the books of the New Testament with cymbal accompaniment. The performers were likely friends of the director, some of them, I think, appearing as more than one character, but three of them were real stand-outs. Josh Grace was deliriously over-the-top as Dr. Praetorious. I checked his resume, and he's been in a few of JCVH director's Lee Demarbre's movies including one where Demarbre includes another Mexican movie legend--The Aztec Mummy. I can't find the name of a screaming woman, but it was one of the best screams I've heard in a long time. But the very best part of the movie is the introduction and musical performance of Blind Jimmy Leper played by an actor named "Lucky Ron" who had about as many teeth as Shane McGowen. He does this scatting number which could probably prove the existence of God to even the most diehard of atheists. Jesus jumped on the stage and did his own scatting, but he couldn't beat the work of Blind Jimmy Leper. And when you're Lucky Ron and can prove in your lone movie that you can out-scat Christ Himself, you don't have to do anything else as a performer to win a lifetime achievement award on shane-movies.

Note: I've heard that there's an Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter movie being made. Joaquin Phoenix is attached to that project. I guess his career is doing just fine!

Repo! The Genetic Opera

2008 genetic opera

Rating: 8/20 (Anonymous: 12/20)

Plot: It's the year 2056, and folks organs aren't working too well anymore. Luckily, there's GeneCo, a company that helps the needy get transplants. And if the patient can't make make his or her payments? Well, the organs are repossessed violently by a masked singing repo man. A girl with a mysterious illness, her dad, a grave robber, the president of GeneCo, and his idiot children all sing about it.

Apparently, there are a ton of posters for this one. One of them even clearly says at the top "From the producers of Saw" and a little bit lower "Paris Hilton" but that didn't stop my brother from grabbing this and inviting me over to watch it with him. For the most part, Repo! The Genetic Opera looks and feels just like something made by the producers of Saw that happens to have Paris Hilton in it would. For a musical to work, the music has to be good, and the throbbing gothic industrial shit in this is not, lyrically or sonically. Musically and visually, this is pretty gross. I was surprised that this movie had the budget it did. The sets were elaborate, and the dark future the makers of this envisioned is fully realized although it suffers from some CGI-ugliness. The concept is clever enough to deserve a decent budget, I suppose, but it's so poorly executed. The acting is bad universally, and strangely, a lot of the performers don't sing very well. I suppose it would be hard to have to sing such poorly written lines while trying to keep from laughing though. Perhaps that was the situation with actor Bill Moseley, a guy who's had a lengthy career doing small bits in horror movies including Army of Darkness. Nearly every time he was given screen time, I wanted to laugh, and I'm not sure that was the intention. When the producers of Saw tried to inject a little dark humor into the proceedings--a few bad puns here and there, some gross-out stuff--it didn't work at all. Repo! The Genetic Musical ends up nothing more than an attempt to make the next Rocky Horror Picture Show. I don't like that movie at all either but wouldn't even recommend this to people who do. For those out there who happen to enjoy this sort of thing, it sets up nicely for a sequel. Anonymous and I will be there opening night, probably dressed up as Blind Mag and Luigi Largo respectively.

Paris Hilton, by the way, plays a character whose face falls off. I thought for sure I was watching a Carl's Jr.'s commercial during that scene.

Meet Me in St. Louis

1944 piece of technicolor crap

Rating: 10/20 (Jen: 13/20)

Plot: Attorney Smith lives in St. Louis with his wife and four daughters, one of them who might be the devil. They spend most of their time singing and being carefree, but suddenly, Dad announces that they're going to move to New York City. Oh, snap! This depresses everybody!

Judy Garland is sort of homely and has a terrible voice. Shirley Temple should have played Esther in this movie. There really isn't enough story here to make an entire movie which is why, I guess, they have to stuff in a bunch of songs. This might have been the most excruciating movie experience of the year for me, mostly because of the disturbing and obnoxious performance of child actress Margaret O'Brien as "Tootie," the only character I've watched this year with this almost overwhelming desire to hit repeatedly with a shovel. Seriously, what the hell is going on with Tootie? She's psychologically disturbed! The Halloween scene in which she's burning furniture and throwing flour in people's faces for no good reason is bad enough, but when she talks openly about trying to murder people? Yikes! If I would have watched this movie seventeen years ago, this kid would have inspired me to castrate myself so that I wouldn't accidentally have children. In addition to children, this movie also made me hate the following:

--Music

--St. Louis, a city I've always loved

--Fairs

--Love

--Color

--The Wizard of Oz

--Frills

--My wife

--Snowmen

--Christmas

--Halloween

--Trolleys

--White people

--Square dancing

--Alec Baldwin

--1903

--America

--The Facts of Life

It's been a couple days, but Meet Me in St. Louis seems to have this ability to continue making me suffer long after it's ended. It's like a bad taste in my soul. How this movie didn't lead to murder-suicide must be some kind of Christmas miracle.

Kill it with a shovel:

Stop Making Sense

1984 concert video

Rating: 17/20

Plot: Jonathan Demme films The Talking Heads. David Byrne winds up in a big suit.

David Byrne's stage presence reminded me of Andy Kaufman at times, especially during "Psychokiller," the track that begins the show. After stepping onto a stage sans fixin's, decorated only with backstage clutter, he presses play on a boombox to start a drum-machine-manufactured stuttering beat, plays his acoustic guitar, sings his little song, and does this Kaufman-esque leg kick thing that instantly made me glad I was watching this. He finishes with a flourish of inept dance moves. The second song starts, and you figure out where this is heading. Stop Making Sense is half about an energetic and enthusiastic performance of a popular band at the peak of their powers and half about the evolution of a performance. With each song, another band member is dragged out to accompany Byrne until all the Heads are present. Then, the special effects are gradually added--backdrops, lights, props. Finally, you've got a ton of instruments, a huge sound, and David Byrne jerking around in that ridiculous big suit of his. The show ends, and you imagine just how difficult it's going to be for somebody to clean all that sweat off the stage. David Byrne is an insanely creative (and possibly insane) individual, and it's a lot of fun watching his vision come alive here. It's also a lot of fun watching how much energy Byrne and company have. I felt physically exhausted after watching the singer dance, hop around, woo a lamp, and sprint around the stage for an hour and a half. And those dance moves! They spoke to the groin, dear readers. They spoke to the groin. There's directing going on here with more than its share of gimmicks, but the band is having way too much fun to not be at the center of things. I'm not completely sure a non-Talking Heads fan would love this (I'm only a marginal fan), but I think it would be impossible not to appreciate what is going on in this terrific concert film.

The Wicker Man

1973 pagan musical nightmare

Rating: 19/20 (Anonymous: 20/20; Amy: 16/20)

Plot: A policeman from the Scottish mainland flies to a mysterious island to investigate the disappearance of a young girl. The island's inhabits, a bunch of heathens, aren't cooperative as they prepare for May Day festivities.

What I love most about this movie is its sense of humor. Sure, it's got an assortment of musical selections that can stack up against the soundtrack of any other movie. It's got a great scene with Britt Ekland (Mary Goodnight in the recently-reviewed The Man with the Golden Gun) dancing around naked. It's got another of those Christopher Lee performances where he plays a sophisticatedly evil and tongue-in-cheek baddie. It's got loads of weird-looking beige-teethed Scots wearing an assortment of animal masks. It's got a gradually unfolding and hypnotic mystery that builds to one of the most shocking images in the horror movie history and a jaw-dropping finale. It's got a thematic backbone, delicious irony, and a literate script. It's got a sex scene with stuffed animals. It's got some beautiful shots of this exotic and erotic locale and its people. And it's unique. There just aren't movies like this. But what I love most is that sense of humor. No, it's not as funny as the remake with Nicolas Cage (few movies are), but there's so much hilarity as the islanders dick around with the detective. This is a movie with more great moments than a movie should be allowed to have (love the hare, the dance they're all doing at the end), and it would be difficult to find a movie as unsettling as this one.

And yes, Anonymous, the gravedigger (Aubrey Morris) was the guy in A Clockwork Orange.

Young Man with a Horn

1950 jazzman movie

Rating: 14/20

Plot: "Horn" is, as you would probably expect, meant euphemistically. Young Man with a Horn is the story of pubescent Rick Martin's discovery of his "horn" and how a sage named Mr. Miyagi helps him learn how to wield it. He practices by himself over and over again, and then he uses it on both Doris Day and Lauren Bacall. Not bad, little Rick Martin! Not bad at all!

First off, look at that tagline at the top of the poster. "Put down your trumpet, Jazzman--I'm in the mood for love!" That's a good one. Young Man with a Horn is loosely based on the biography of jazzman Biz Biederbecke, but it's got a tidy little Hollywood ending. There's nothing particularly wrong with this movie. The performances are fine, the music is fine, the scenes in smoky nightclubs are really fine. But as a whole, this is so antiseptic, just so white bread. This movie needed a little zip or some zap or some pop. Or something. It's definitely a case where a movie loses steam as it goes on, especially since all it could build to was an ending that seemed like it was rewritten at the eleventh hour in order to please some studio execs. Kirk Douglas is really good, especially pulling off the virtuosic horn blower without being anywhere near a virtuosic horn blower, and the movie looks great. It just should have been a whole lot better.

The Music Man

1962 musical

Rating: 17/20 (Jen: 14/20)

Plot: A fast-talkin' travelling salesman
arrives in River City, Iowa to con its inhabitants by promising to create a boy's marching band despite having no musical training. He falls for the librarian, the town whore, and cleverly avoids pressures from the members of the school board and the town's mayor to show them his credentials. Everybody sings. A lot.

At two and a half hours, this is at times a test of endurance. If you don't like musicals, you're not going to like The Music Man. It's a musical in every sense of the word. At least it never seems like a stage musical though. The camera's fluent, weaving its way through the colorful characters and the colorful River City, and personality just bursts through the screen. Not literally. I would have been pissed if all those colors ended up on my living room floor. However, if I had to have a movie all over my living room, The Music Man wouldn't be a bad choice. It really is gorgeous. Director Morton DaCosta does a terrific job making Iowa look like the most exciting place on earth. An interesting thing happens to a person physiologically while watching The Music Man:

1) You're so happy that you're watching this during the first half. You vibrate internally, your left arm twitching abnormally. If male, you may have a boner.

2) Around "76 Trombones" you lose control and run head first into a wall, an attempt to stop obsessing over band instruments as phallic symbols.

3) You wake up thinking, because you dreamed it, that there was a Buddy Hackett nude scene, but while you're enjoying the memory, you notice a sharp pain in your lower back and discover that somebody has removed one of your kidneys. During the fifth reprise of "Gary, Indiana," you investigate and discover that you somehow removed your own kidney.

4) At a little over the halfway point, Ronny Howard begins speaking to you subliminally. He tells you, in what might be the worst lisp in cinematic history, that you should find Satan and, no matter what he tells you, kill him. He hints that Satan may be living inside your puppy.

5) You decide you need a break and pause the movie to see if your children still remember who you are or if they've all graduated from college and gotten jobs.

6) Buddy Hackett begins dancing and saying, "Shipoopi!" over and over again. You become a polytheist, believing instantly that every role Buddy Hackett played in his career is a separate god. You have to pause the movie again to found a religion based on your beliefs. You put on a white shirt and a white tie, travel door-to-door in your neighborhood, and let everybody know about the power of Shipoopi. You're assaulted and eventually stoned to death. You resurrect in three days in an ill-fitting plaid suit you've never seen before.

7) During the eighteenth reprise of "Gary, Indiana," you start thinking about Robert Preston living in contemporary Gary, Indiana, singing and dancing in his checkered suit, and being murdered in broad daylight by thugs. You can no longer concentrate on The Music Man because you can't see through your laughter. You pause the movie and laugh for thirty-seven straight hours before you're able to resume.

8) More internal vibration!

9) You finally finish the movie after a month, realizing that you can no longer see out of your right eye, hear out of your left ear, smell out of your right nostril, feel with your left hand, or taste anything white. You decide that it's worth it.

Side note: I honestly feared for my life while watching The Music Man. I really thought Jen was planning on killing me.

Shipoopi! Shipoopi!