Bad Movies at Bad Movie Knights - Movies that suck. Bad movies, bad movie reviews and more.

Bay-stardization

2010-08-30T13:02:26Z

Bay-stardization: An increasingly common occurrence in the film industry in which beloved films, television series, cartoons, video games, toys etc have their storylines "re-imagined" or in some cases reinvented wholesale with the sole purpose of introducing a new golden tit for greed-driven studio executives to suckle from.

A film-maker interested in performing the process of Bay-stardization should adhere to the following steps:

First, harvest the original idea, then formally announce the project during a forum such as this year's Comic-Con and crank out as much hi-gloss promotional material, conceptual art, and/or teaser footage as is physically possible to be fed to the crazed fans of the original film at next year's Comic-Con.

Next, strip away any worrisome substance or insight contained in the original and substitute with equal parts cliche and fecal matter during the screenwriting and production phases.

Arrange for a mega-release of the movie and stand back as devoted fans leaving the cinema complex either ponder your violent death or strain to convince themselves that "it really wasn't that bad."

Finally, reflect upon said fan base's grief as you drunkenly laugh all the way to your palatial beach house with two of the filthiest sluts money can buy in the passenger seat stripped naked and oiling themselves as a fat young Philippine boy cradles a magnum of champagne in one arm and the biggest bag of gerbil food that could be acquired at this hour in the other.

Everything you ever loved will be sodomized by Michael Bay,
Joey

REVIEW: Spartacus: Blood and Sand - The Complete First Season (British Review)

2010-08-23T17:26:52Z

So I did it. I did something really dirty. I took the advice of an American. Despite my better judgement, that's what I did. That's the logical equivalent of having a stranger shit in my pants on my behalf.

But I relented nonetheless.

I watched Spartacus: Blood and Sand, all 13 gory, carefully waxed episodes of the Sam Raimi produced historical fuck-fest. And holy shit what a ride. How to sum it up? The Yanks took Gladiator to pieces, in fear of it being too heavy and intellectual, hammered it down to its component parts, added a lashing or two of pungent homosexuality, shook it up, and let it loose.

I studied Roman history back in the day. It turns out, thanks to this epic little show, that everything I knew was wrong. Turns out that everybody just walked around naked, rubbed oil into each other's shoulders, brooded dramatically in the shadows, wore leather skirts to show off their massive, hairy, muscular thighs, and fucked each other's armpits.

It wasn't just my knowledge of history that was lacking. My knowledge of anatomy got a kicking too. Did you know that if you whack someone gently on the back with the flat, blunt edge of a sword they will literally explode in a tidal wave of blood? I do now. Thank you American TV for teaching me this. Now I shall be more careful in life, wrapped forever in the fearful knowledge that if I ever stub my toe I risk exploding like a retarded suicide victim leaping off the Empire State.

There was also that cowardly chap from The Mummy in it too. And he did some rather good acting. Not that anybody noticed. Because he was surrounded by massive, shiny men beating each other to death with their
wooden blades. They may as well have cast Gary fucking Coleman.

I loved it. I really did. It turns out the inmates have not only escaped, but are running the asylum. It's as if Lost confused too many people, causing a Poll Pott style uproar in which all the smart people were culled, leaving nothing but a trail of ADD-ridden miscreants to run the show. These misfits then did what we all, deep-down, love best - they turned up the volume to 11, killed everything in sight (twice) and paid all the actors extra to yell the word "cunt" at random intervals, for no apparent reason.

I was very pleased with this show - for the above, and for two additional reasons:

1.) I learned a new phrase by watching this show. At some point in this series a conversation takes place that actually allows the actor to say "you'll survive, but you'll be uglier than a whore's gash". "Uglier than a whore's gash" is officially the greatest thing I've ever heard. I laughed so hard at that my friends thought I was having a stroke. I hear season 2 has a whole episode dedicated to one of the gladiators farting, and the rest of them pointing and laughing about it for a whole hour. Magic.

2.) This show is a metaphor of all that we know and love of America. They took the most culturally advanced race in the history of all mankind, stripped it down of all intelligable merit, and pumped it to the gills with tits, blood, inappropriate heavy metal soundtracks and such homo-eroticism that the whole Gay section of extremetube.com has been instantly rendered obsolete.

In years to come, future generations will wonder as to the cultural impact of America upon the world. They need but see Spartacus: Blood and Sand. Just like anything American, it has all the subtlety of a large nuclear war.

Oh, and that bitch from Zena gets her tits out a lot too.

And she has really, really big nipples.

Hamlin Grade: 10

Part-time Ninja

REVIEW: War Wolves

2010-08-23T17:18:26Z

War Wolves. Get it? War Wolves? Cuz. Cuz, see their soldiers... in a war, and they come home as something approximating werewolves... War Wolves!

Man you people are thick.

I have something I need to confess. I like the SciFi -um- SyFy channel. At least a couple days out of the week anyway, when they're not showing idiots running around condemned prisons in night vision and jizzing themselves because one of their flashlights flickered. "Oh shit! Did you just see that?! Tell me we're getting this!" No I'm talking about that time of the week when I could be out having a life but instead I find myself feasting on such fine cinematic fare as Wyvern, Megashark vs. Giant Octopus, or the incomparable Dracula 3000 starring Coolio. (as an aside if this site expanded it's all time worst list to ten - or for that matter six - Dracula 3000 is a solid contender.)

With precious little exception, the "films" offered to us by the SyFy channel could suck a planet out of orbit. They're that bad. And any Bad Movie fly buzzing around the tube on a given weekend would be a fool not to hone in on their foul stench. I like to think that if Ed Wood were alive today he'd be president of the network or at least in charge of programming. Maybe "Dr. Ackula" would've actually seen the light of day. But hey we got War Wolves. The thing about War Wolves is that it actually has some decently constructed, reasonably well-acted scenes and it makes some fairly interesting, quirky choices. But just about the time you're starting to think the movie's not that bad you get hit with a flaming turd right in the eye.

Things get rolling with the bible verse that admonishes us to "walk in the light lest darkness come upon you." This is followed by a brief sequence in which a seemingly ordinary soldier pens a letter of some sort before calmy unholstering his pistol and splattering his brains on the wall. Pause for a second. This scene is actually well-paced, well-composed and the special effect work is practical and pretty believable. Right now if you'd stumbled upon the movie by accident you might think you were in for a decent flick. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on whether or not you're a member of the brotherhood here) there's about an hour and a half of movie left. Cue the shitty, generic Incubus rip-off music - as if the genuine Incubus wasn't bad enough - for the next scene which introduces us to the major players and soon to be war wolves as they clumsily attempt to act like they're playing football in the desert. Here we meet our hero Jake Gabriel and his sexy love interest Erika Moore along with their brothers and sisters in arms. Soon it's off to battle and we find the group in the midst of an ambush in some shithole Middle Eastern village. Everything goes slow-mo and we're presumably expected to be terrified as crazed villagers attack the soldiers and snatch them from the streets, dragging them into their lil mud-brick house things. Jake and the wounder Erika are holed up in one such dump and one of those rascally natives comes snarling into the doorway on all fours as Ave Maria plays over the action. Cut to Jake back home in the good ole' USA holding down a shit-job in a small town grocery store drinking lots of vodka and eating lots of steak tartar and having a genuinely tough go at readjusting to civilian life. And there's the lycanthropy.

Jake goes to AA meetings in an effort to find some sort of solace and to help him cope with the urge to kill the living shit out of everything he sees. (Do you really need to be a werewolf for that?) Unlike Jake the majority of his friends including his old girlfriend Erika have come to terms with their new nature and are tracking him down for the purposes of having him join or lead the pack. Apparently the womenfolk aren't satisfied with the Manny Pacquiao look-alike who's in charge at the moment.

Enter John Saxon of Enter the Dragon and Nightmare on Elm Street fame. Saxon plays Tony Ford, an old general who is aware of the war wolve phenomenon and with the help of his grizzled old war buddie Frank attempts to track them down in LA. They manage to apprehend Jake who's been summoned there as well by one of the survivors he's remained in contact with. Said contact is subsequently killed in a less than spectacular firefight with the Manny Pacquiao guy. From here everybody travels to Seattle or wherever the hell Jake had been holed up for some reason I forgot. (I'll be damned if i'm gonna watch this movie again to find out.) But whatever it is, it will be here in the peaceful Pacific Northwest were the final showdown will occur as Jake faces off against the buxome she-wolf threesome and that little latin guy who is presumably Jakes only rival for leadership of "the pack" as it were. The showdown is anything but memorable and as they approach the climax of their transformation into total beasts the combatants end up with silly black shaggy dog noses and that whole generic Underworldesque makeup that causes them to resemble what Klingons would look like if they mated with Mumm-Ra from Thundercats. It's fairly ridiculous.

Still the movie has moments that would approach a level of quality that is, with the possible exception of Splinter (which I maintain is the finest thing the network has ever produced) wholly unheard of on SyFy. Were it not for the ham-handedness of the production or the stilted performances we get from most of the actors the thing might just work on a moderate level. The acting of the chicks is particularly noteworthy in it's crappiness. The three female warwolves (uuugggghhh that title again) all look and act like the kind of women that have given the idea of a career in the adult film industry more than just a passing consideration. As a matter of fact I recently learned that Natasha Alam, who plays Jake's love interest, is a former Playboy model. Note to self...

Despite this fact there are no tits in the movie, not even the DVD version, which i downl-i mean purchased. And this transgression will not be forgiven by the giver of the Hamlin.

War Wolves shamelessly attempts to use the curse of the werewolf as a metaphor for what a lot of service men and women undergo when they come back from war. It might work if it weren't so obvious or if the film makers made the decision to go for an all out political satire or a horror comedy in the vein of Evil Dead. Unfortunately they decided to split the difference and we're left with the skid-marks of this stinky miscarriage that's not good enough to be held in any kind of critical esteem and not bad enough to be revered in the halls of the Bad Movie Knights. Not even a cameo from Martin "Sweep the leg" Kove can save War Wolves from Bad Movie mediocrity.

Hamlin Grade:3

Everything you ever loved will be sodomized by Michael Bay,
Joey

REVIEW: Spartacus: Blood and Sand - The Complete First Season

2010-07-02T13:19:35Z

Spartacus: Blood and Sand. Betrayed by the Romans. Forced into slavery. Reborn as a Gladiator.

Seriously after reading that do you need to hear anymore? The above statement is so bad-ass that it now adorns the top of my resume, and is the opening pick-up line used when I go hunting for babes at the local high schools (subsequently, I've recently been hired to be the CEO of Microsoft and having lots and lots of sex) .

Getting into episodic television is difficult because of the time it consumes, and the quality is often never high enough to keep my interest from fading like British Petroleum stock. Spartacus: Blood and Sand however, grabbed me by my tiny nuts and dragged me back to the small screen for 13 glorious weeks!

Spartacus: Blood and Sand is a brilliant amalgamation of the best parts of Gladiator, 300, Troy (which blew, but did manage to pull off a few decent combat sequences, plus Brad Pitt in battle armor = masturbation break), Brokeback Mountain, Caligula, and to a lesser extent the HBO series Oz.

Spartacus: Blood and Sand begins by introducing us to a young Thracian soldier, conscripted by the Romans to help spread their love of war. The Romans however, refuse to let their newly acquired mercenaries leave to protect their village when they hear word from scouts that their enemies have out-flanked them and are moving to attack Thrace — which is unprotected and loaded with fresh vagina.

The Thracian soldiers defy the Romans (killing several of the officers and thoroughly embarrassing the main Roman dude) and prance off into the night to protect their village. Arriving just in time, the Thracian dispatches his enemies and rescues his wife... then it's off to the tent for some good ole fashion post-battle coitus.

All seems right in the world for our hero, until the Romans arrive to ruin cuddle time. Beaten and subdued, the Thracian is helpless as he watches his super hot wife get dragged off kicking and screaming (and fabulously nekkid) by a pair of Roman Centurions.... which is actually kind of hot. The Thracian is brought to the city of Capua where he is thrown into a gladiatorial match against 6 combatants after being branded a traitor. Under the watchful eye of his former Roman Commander, he manages to defeat his opponents... and the crowd begins to refer to him as Spartacus.

Spartacus is then purchased by Batiatus (played brilliantly by John Hannah-the brother of Evelyn from the Mummy movies), the owner of Gladiator stable, which houses and trains scores of heavily muscled, scantily clad, and generously oiled men whose sole-purpose is to fight in the arena of Capua. The rest of the series follows the journey of Spartacus through the gladiator lifestyle (one that is filled with training, fighting and having lots of sex... regular or gay, depending on your preference... really it's a great life, the only criteria is that you be a complete bad ass, have great abs, and come equipped with a giant penis... shit) as he fights not only for his freedom but for the promise of being re-united with his wife. During that journey the viewer is visually assaulted with epic combat sequences, evisceration, an intriguing storyline, and Lucy Lawless constantly naked (this is no bullshit... Xena presents her breasts on a weekly basis). Aside from Ms. Lawless' deliciously unclothed form, Spartacus: Blood and Sand is peppered, rather littered with all manner of full frontal nudity... a delicately woven balance of breasts,vagina and cock.

This show is truly a masterpiece. I dare not say anymore because I do not wish to ruin what lies in store for those of you Knights of the Bad Movie who have yet to witness Spartacus: Blood and Sand in all it's glory.... and Xena's boobs.

Hamlin Grade: 9

Timothy Dalton is the one true James Bond,
pat

REVIEW: Double Impact

2010-06-09T17:36:57Z

Double Impact. Mmmmmm. Sounds like the title of a low budget, overly aggressive adult feature, filmed on a garbage skiff off the coast of Brazil doesn't it?

While that is more than likely the case, the Double Impact I am referring to is the 1991 classic starring the incredibly flexible and versatile Jean Claude Van Damme... which is somewhat hotter than it's South American equivalent that showcases a pair of sand whores depositing their own shit on one another... or perhaps not? I digress.

Nearly 20 years ago some Hollywood producer thought it would be a great idea to showcase the acting talent of one Jean Claude Van Damme by having him play two characters in the same film. Utilizing the Belgian superstar's well endowed thespian skills and coupling that with state of the art CGI, the masterpiece that became Double Impact was realized.

For Van Damme, Double Impact was clearly the apex of his career. After successfully displaying his his tight buttocks (shit I actually stuttered... and for the record Double Impact continues to embrace the policy of unnecessarily displaying a pair of Belgian glutes... a term we refer to as Van DAMN!... and Ryan your welcome for the nudy shot of JC... try to keep the little feller in yer pants) in Bloodsport, Cyborg, Kickboxer, and Lionheart (which for the most part are pretty kick ass movies... provided you aren't into any sort of story, plot, or character development), Van Damme was reaching a level of super-stardom shared only by action stars like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone, Steven Seagal, and Emo Phillips.

The story of Double Impact is well... oh fuck it just watch this:

Ok got it? No? Okay, let me sum up. Chad and Alex Wagner (Van Damme, and Van Damme... by the way, how many times did the deep voice guy say Van Damme? ) are re-united in their late twenties by Uncle Frank, the former body guard of their parents, who failed to protect them from getting killed by the Chinese mafia following some shady business investments used to build a tunnel in Hong Kong. After the Wagners are executed by Zang (mafia guy) and Griffith (rich English douche) the twins are separated. The nurse maid drops Alex at a French orphanage and Uncle Frank takes Chad and raises him in France... which is a convenient way to explain Van Damme's truly mind boggling accent. By the way Zang, Griffith, and Uncle Frank don't seem to age even though some 30 years have passed.

After their reunion, Chad and Alex eventually join forces to take revenge on their parents murderers... a prerequisite plot device of any good action film. Their path of vengeance of course takes them through a cadre of subordinates and henchmen ranging from the one-punch-and-die foot soldier to the giant breasted Chinese guy (Van Damme re-unites with the marvelously thick-pec'd Bolo Yeung) which delivers unto us a cornucopia of fight scenes. Van Damme also gets to square off against a dude with knife tipped boots, former Miss Olympia Cory Everson (who for the record I've always had the hots for... perhaps because of her very masculine body... and her penis?) and a Steven Seagal stunt double.

The ending is beyond predictable, after wasting through the collection of bad-asses Chad and Alex make short work of Zang (tossed from the top of a crane) and Griffith (crushed under a shipping container), then hug it out, then Alex makes out with his hot girlfriend (who for the record has the worst breast implants i've ever seen) while Chad stands by uncomfortably close and gives them the thumbs up... and we freeze frame as if we just finished watching an episode of Magnum P.I.

To Van Damme's credit he does manage to create two distinct characters in Double Impact. One is a cultured, well-to-do, metro-sexual (borderline gay), and the other is an emotionless, street-hardened, bad-ass (also gay), both are skilled in the martial arts and neither of them can act. Really the main difference is that Chad smiles a lot and has poofy hair, while Alex frowns constantly and slicks his hair back. Chad enjoys pastels, while Alex prefers an all black wardrobe. Both love the cock.

Thankfully the CGI in this film does a masterful job of placing Van Damme next to himself in this movie. I'm completely bullshitting here. On the rare occasion they are together in a scene (where you see two distinct Van Dammes and not the back of some poor stunt double's skull), the shadows appear not only from different times of the day, but from different times of the year. And forget about trying to match up eye-lines... when they do attempt some kind of connection, Alex appears to be lazy-eye, and Chad can't stop staring at his twin brother's crotch. I exaggerate somewhat (but not really).

While Van Damme will always be considered a marginal (which is extraordinarily generous on my part) at best, he does manage to entertain regardless of the situation (except for JCVD... watching Jean Claude Van Damme attempt to act is like watching Jim Carey trying not to be funny - see the Number 23 STOP YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!!!) and Double Impact is no different.

Double Impact offers great fights scenes, full splits, well-oiled, meticulously toned ass cheeks, all mixed with your ability to severely suspend disbelief and you have nothing short of an Am-Track train wreck... I mean a gem of a movie experience.

You are probably thinking right now, 'Hey, didn't you guys already review Double Impact?' , and the answer is yes. The lovely and talented Ryan provided his thoughts on the Jean Claude Van Damme classic a few years back - which you can view here.

So why the re-review? I figured a quality bad movie like Double Impact is more than worthy of the extra attention.

I also thought it deserved a critique by someone who wasn't home schooled and didn't drop-out in the 9th grade to work on his pick-up truck.

Hamlin Grade: 6.5

Timothy Dalton is the one true James Bond,
pat

REVIEW: Ninja Assassin

2010-06-07T14:43:35Z

"Only a ninja can kill a ninja."
-Sho Kosugi

Truer words have never been spoken. While it has been some two decades since the ninja has dominated the big screen (remember the 80's when every movie that came out either involved Ninja, or some gay Australian?). The ninja never really went out of fashion, (like cocaine, mullets and gay Australians did) but rather laid waiting for the time to once again take over Hollywood and whip out their fully engorged... swords.

That time is now my friends. I give you Ninja Assassin.

Ninja Assassin is the kind of movie that makes you want to yell out 'Fuck Yeah' every 2 - 7 minutes (which explains why I never saw the movie in it's entirety in the theater... asshole security dicks).

The story is simple, and elegant. We open with a group of gang members, clearly of the bad ass variety, preparing to whoop on an old tattoo artist... but prior to the commencement of said whooping, a gang member get's his head cut in half! Not off, mind you... IN HALF!!! So only the lower jaw remains attached, and the upper part of his skull lands with a plop ( think Bavarian style on a glass table) on the floor. This ninja continues to fillet the gang with his sword and a plethora of other sweet weapons. Chinese stars are tossed in this film as though they are being launched from a Gatling gun (or Richard Gere's colon) and victims struck by these are mercilessly shredded. Oh and for the record, no funds were spared on the blood pumps... there are few scenes in this film where crimson is not showering everywhere.

Okay, back to the tale... it is present day and ninja are now being utilized to dispatch prominent social figures... essentially assassins for hire as they were originally designed centuries ago in feudal Japan. On the case is a female police officer (it really doesn't matter who she or her partner is, because they are almost useless guides that takes us through this world of the ninja... as if we really needed them) who gets to close and draws the attention of the ninja and becomes a target herself.... however she also gains a protector in a ninja who has decided to break free of his programming and fight back (he officially gives his fuck you walking papers to his ninja clan atop a roof in the pouring rain via the help of a bicycle chain whip with a giant fish-hook attached to the end of it - the preferred weapon of this particular ninja) .

Let me explain what I mean by programming. You see, to make a good ninja, you must first kidnap a newborn Japanese child, then train him or her from that early age in a vast array of martial art techniques while simultaneously torturing the shit out of them until they reach adulthood. Then beat the shit out of them some more. Upon graduation from this college of mind fuck, the ninja are place within society unfurnished, air conditioned free, loft-styled apartments where they can train shirtless (for the record, the star ninja in this film is in bath house caliber shape, even for a man of Japanese descent.... as you know the chief export of Japan is great abs) all day long until they receive orders to go out and kill some people.

If you haven't had the urge to yell out expletives thus far then you are probably a homosexual.

Insert Final Battle which includes : Army of Ninjas, Army of Special Forces, all manner of weapons ranging from swords and throwing stars, to fully equipped tactical vehicles and military-grade ordinance, and a final showdown in the Octagon (complete with unnecessary flaming backdrop) between our ninja and the master ninja that trained (mind raped and beat the piss out of for a lifetime) him.

Ninja Assassin ends as it started... with a 'Fuck Yeah''. By the conclusion of this feature, I guarantee that not only will you be screaming the aforementioned battle cry, but you will also be holding your penis in your hands and vigorously masturbating. Women needn't concern themselves, because you aren't allowed to watch this movie anyway. Go back to the Notebook.

Fuck Yeah!

Hamlin Grade: 8

Timothy Dalton is the one true James Bond,
pat

REVIEW: Sharks in Venice

2010-06-01T15:19:01Z

There are good ideas and then there are bad ideas. There are Baldwin brothers and then, well there's little Stevie Baldwin. One has to wonder what uber-liberal activist and older brother Alec must think about his younger and less talented brother's exploits (when he's not screaming at ex-wife Kim Bassinger or their daughter over the phone that is). Shit. Alec's no Michael Ironside but even he's had his moments like playing that fucked up surgeon in Malice or contributing an outstanding voiceover narration for The Royal Tannenbaums.

Forgive me for starting things off with a lengthy digression but I would be remiss not to take a few moments before getting into the meat of this review to discuss the antics of Stephen Baldwin and his fall from uh, semi-obscurity.

Times have been tough all around, so tough that apparently not even a stand-up fraud like Stephen has been able to make an um, honest living out of fleecing that most naive and impressionable of demographics: christian youth. Last year Stephen was forced to file for bankruptcy. Due to no fault of his own however. Those dastardly heathens in Hollywood have shut him out you see, "because of his convictions." That's right folks. The star of such classics as The Young Riders and Bio-Dome tossed out on his can like a filthy commoner.

But hark! There's a silver-lining here. No I'm not talking about that silly website set up for Stephen. By others. On his behalf. Asking people to give him money and citing the bible as an authority on why people should give their hard-earned money to the world's first self-proclaimed "Jesus-Psycho." I'm not talking about that website. Were it not for Stephen being ostracized from mainstream movies we wouldn't have gems such as the one I bring you now, Shark(s?) In Venice. And we need films like this. Those of you brave enough to call yourselves Bad Movie Knights know this to be true.

Sharks In Venice is a return to familiar territory for the man who gave us the greatest of all shark movies; that being Shark Attack 3: Megaladon. It would appear that Danny Lerner has a serious hard-on for sharks. This is the fifth shark-related film he's been involved with according to the internet movie database. No small feat indeed. Believe it or not it's not that easy to just keep churning out direct-to-dvd releases of horror movies about man-eating sharks. There's a certain art to it. It's not like the old days when you could just plop a giant shark into a resort community and have it go fin to toe with some grizzled old beach cop. No, you have to introduce new elements to the formula. And you need new blood... Bring on the Baldwin!

Let's begin shall we? Venice. Present day...(I guess?) After a rather beautiful establishing shot of the city we sink into the murky depths of the Venetian canals to find a couple of divers who, we will soon learn, are searching for the lost treasure of the Medici family. Now before I go on any further I'd like to point something out. I've been to Venice. I say this not to toot my own horn, but rather to bring up something of which I'm not sure everyone is aware. If you haven't heard by now there's no sewage system in Venice, at least not in the sense that we're used to. So where does all of that human waste go when it's been flushed? You guessed it. Walk over any bridge in Venice in the summer time and it's like taking a field trip to your local sewage plant. I say all this to say that those two divers in the opening (and later Stephen Baldwin and friends including that pesky great white shark) will be swimming in 100% poo-poo water. Fitting on so many levels.

Anyhow these two divers are soon ambushed and divoured by a hungry shark. Cut to David Franks played by Stephen Baldwin. Franks is a professor at the Oceanographic Institute in San Francisco (a very believable part for Stephen I think) and after some ominous foreshadowing during one of his lectures he learns that his father has apparently had a "boating accident" in Venice. Setting forth immediately with his loyal and moderately attractive girlfriend Laura (played by Vanessa Johansson. Yes Scarlett's sister and no, nowhere near as close in uh "acting ability") on a quest to find out what's become of his father, David will be plunged...not only into the poop soup, but also into the shady world of the Venetian mafia and the corrupt police department that enables it.

Now I'm not gonna run through the entire story or point out the many confusing plot elements or holes in said plot. That's punishing enough when you're actually watching the movie. Suffice it to say that the film cannibalizes a few sci-fi/action classics in a pitiful attempt to win over the audience. We get the usual cliches from just about every shark movie ever made. (The whole "don't mention that we may have a killer shark to the public" admonition given to Franks/Baldwin by the chief of police for instance) Also for some reason we get a weak attempt at a Raiders of the Lost Ark ripoff as Baldwin navigates a series of booby-traps to gain access to the Medici treasure and elude those filthy Italian gangsters. Simply put the movie uses the killer shark m.o. and just slaps it in a different setting with a Mafia element thrown in for good measure and a has-been (I guess Stephen Baldwin "was" at some point?) actor as the protagonist. If this weren't bad enough Lerner even goes so far as to use cuts from his previous shark films. There's one scene in particular where you can actually see the head of the baby megalodon from Shark Attack 3 plowing through the hull of the ship which was in itself a blatant plagiarism of the Jaws climax. And it occurs during a scene where THERE IS NO BOAT INVOLVED WHATSOEVER. Great editing there guys.

As for the acting we have a few mailed-in performance from Baldwin as well as Johansson, who I guess got a spot in the movie because the producers thought we'd be turned on by name-association? (Pity her tits aren't as big as Stephen's or this might actually work on some subconscious level) The movie comes to a merciful conclusion with an unspectacular shootout between the mobsters and cops and Stephin Baldwin in a fight with--yada yada who cares? Does it really matter? The important thing to remember is Stephen needs our help folks. And I for one am not gonna stand by and do nothing while a good man like him suffers!

Am I gonna send him money? Fuck no! But I will bestow upon him something money can't buy. An extra Hamlin. It's the least we can do for him.

Hamlin Grade: 7

Everything you ever loved will be sodomized by Michael Bay,
Joey

REVIEW: The Day the Earth Stopped

2010-05-24T15:24:07Z

There is a new trend developing in the world of direct-to-DVD releases, where small production companies churn out films with a premise similar to a much larger Hollywood production, and then launch the effort prior to or at the same time. This, in theory, allows the smaller film to piggy-back on the marketing of the larger film, and perhaps get a few unsuspecting viewers to be fooled into mistakenly purchase or rent the movie.

The Day the Earth Stopped is nearly a direct copy of the The Day the Earth Stood Still. However, instead of Keanu Reeves we get C. Thomas Howell... and Judd Nelson. Instead of millions of dollars worth of CGI, we get refurbished footage from Robot Jox and fucking strobe light. The one thing that The Day the Earth Stopped does have is breasts. Full, well rounded, alabaster breasts.

With those elements alone, The Day the Earth Stopped is clearly a superior movie. Where it failed is in the picture they chose to duplicate.

The Day the Earth Stopped is produced by the talented and versatile C. Thomas Howell (Pony Boy of the Outsiders), who directed and starred in the film. The premise of the film as I said before doesn't deviate far from the Keanu version. Hundreds of giant transformers appear in the major capital cities across the globe and are intent on destroying everything unless the humans can prove their value.

The movie opens with the giant robots already dotting the metropolis' around the world, and a group of soldiers investigating mysterious alien landings in the more wooded region of Los Angeles. Soldier Josh Myron (Howell) and his partner discover one of the aliens... who just happens to be a super hot chick... oh and she is buck-ass nekkid (extraterrestrials are advanced enough to conquer space travel, but don't have the technology to synthesize a pair of panties... yeah really why am I complaining, Director C. Thomas Howell saw fit to get this actress to display her lovelies for us). Sadly, she has a partner... who is a skinny young man... and also just as nekkid. The breasts however do help off-set the man-ass.

As much as I'd like to make fun of C. Thomas, I really can't. He's not that bad of an actor. Unfortunately the caliber of thespian that make up his supporting cast have the acting ability of car wash attendants... well except for Darren Dalton (Dalton starred with C. Thomas Howell in The Outsiders and Red Dawn... he played Darryl, the douche who swallowed the homing beacon and had to be dispatched by Swayze) who plays Prewitt.. he was brilliantly awful.

Bad Movie Knight NOTE: Anger seems to be the easiest emotion for actors to portray, perhaps because as a species we are generally very pissed off. Thanks to this defect, many b-grade movie actors and actresses tend to overdo the anger angle, and you end up with a cast of characters that are generally screaming and cursing at one another... even if the scene is just a guy ordering a coffee.

In any case, Josh Myron (Howell) takes Alien Tits on a tour of LA in order to showcase the best that Earth has to offer. The alien outside of being pretty hot, offers next to nothing in this movie, especially when she puts a shirt on. Myron fails in almost every instance as they are pursued by the military, shot at, and even car-jacked... all of which do little to help showcase the value of human life.

ENTER JUDD NELSON.

Judd Nelson who in the trailer appeared to have a major role in this piece of shit has nothing more than a bit part. Myron and the Alien help Nelson and his wife deliver their baby in the back of his truck ( the preferred birthing unit of the mid-westerner). Ahhh the gift of life.

Seeing this helps Jugs decide that humans are A-OKAY and jumps into the L.A. stationed robot along with her counterpart and they shut down the destruct sequence, and fly back to their naked alien planet. YAY we are saved. Are we?

Ultimately, from an entertainment perspective The Day the Earth Stopped is much better movie than The Day the Earth Stood Still... but so is smashing a turd with a hammer.

Hamlin Grade: 4.5

Timothy Dalton is the one true James Bond,
pat

REVIEW: The Box

2010-05-20T17:40:56Z

If you press the button, two things will happen:

• The first is that someone, somewhere in the world who you don't know will die
• The second thing will be that you will receive a payment of one million dollars

...and if you watch The Box in it's entirety, the following will occur:

• You will throw your own feces at the television screen
• You will want to sue the director for one million dollars for having had to sit through this mess
• You'll want to suck a cock to try and remove the taste now festering in your mouth

To be honest, when I first saw the 90 second preview for The Box, I was sold. A moral riddle delivered by a deformed UPS Man. How could this movie not be brilliant? Unfortunately, the Box continued on for another excruciating 113 minutes went and collapsed like a British Petroleum drilling platform.

The Box, opened well... the mood was somewhat gloomy, the characters a bit sad... both perhaps side-effects of living in Virginia in the '70's (although I couldn't imagine life in Virginia being any less depressing today) and BAM!! A box is delivered to your door. The main characters (played by Cameron Diaz and Cyclops of the X-men) are bewildered by the contents of the package, which is essentially a square black box, topped with a large red button that is secure under a small glass dome.

The following day a gentleman named Arlington Steward (played by Frank Langella of Skeletor fame) arrives at the door to explain the box and it's contents. Apparently, Mr. Langella's character was severely injured after being hit in the head by lightning... leaving him with a huge chunk of flesh missing from the left side of his face which resembled a melted vagina. Steward unlocks the 'button unit' and explains the Deal or No Deal scenario that is now placed before the couple (see above).

Quickly the couple finds themselves distraught over the decision they must make (and their choice must be made within 24 hours, when Pussy Neck will return to retrieve the box). Clearly faced with some financial difficulty, and also met with professional letdowns at work, the one million dollar prize would help assuage their stress. However, causing the death of another individual weighs on their conscience.

Then Cameron Diaz hits the button. To be honest, there was almost no hesitation. Actually, the funny thing about the Box is that of the three couples who we witnessed with 'a box', the wives of each union were the ones who hit the button... proving once again that all women are soulless, money seeking whores who will stop at nothing to advance themselves. But I digress.

Once the moral dilemma portion of the Box ends, the 'what the fuck' portion begins. Steward (Langella) was apparently killed by the lightning that struck him and was reincarnated as the Devil or an alien (we never really find out which). He goes around town dropping off boxes in an effort to determine whether or not the people in this neighborhood are fucking assholes (clearly the wives are). Cunt Face also has the ability to possess anyone he wants which gives him the ability to view his subjects (box possessors) at all times... you know this is happening because when someone is possessed their noses begin to bleed.

As this long dump of movie slowly progresses we learn that Steward's box experiment was designed to determine whether or not the human race should be saved. So now the Box has become the Day the Earth Stood Still, and our fate is linked to a town of douche bags in the South... that seems fair (Honestly if you wanted to take a cross-section of humanity, Virginia is the last place I would begin... those dicks are still pissed we abolished slavery).

The Box spirals out of control and concludes with another decision laid out before the couple. This time they are faced with the choice that Cyclops must kill his wife (with a revolver conveniently provided by ole' labia jaw) or their son will live out the rest of his life both blind and deaf. Since the wife was the one that hit the button, I say double tap the whore in the forehead... but then we wouldn't have the time for the emotional exchanges and goodbyes.... but wouldn't you know... right before Cyclops kacks her... across town, another cunt wife is hitting the button on the box.... then BANG. Cameron Diaz is dead, Cyclops goes to jail, their son can see and hear, and Frank Langella's cheek bone has a yeast infection.

The Box is a terrific example of doing so little (or next to nothing) with so much. This movie is so fucking bad I'm amazed Halle Berry wasn't in it.

Hamlin Grade: 1

Timothy Dalton is the one true James Bond,
pat

REVIEW: Universal Soldier: Regeneration

2010-04-13T16:33:38Z

Have you seen this movie? Have you? Universal Soldier 5? With Van Damn? Lundgren?

I have. And if you haven't, then that means I am better than you. Universal Soldier 5 is, quite possibly, the most sperm-jack-tastic film of this year. Seriously, having seen it, I haven't been this excited since Rambo.

Especially the bit, an hour into the movie when the producers realise a plot is needed, they decide to reinstate Van Damn, fill him full of Psycho Potion, give him a gun and point him at the enemy.

There is a warehouse full of assorted Bad Guy carrion. Van Damn walks in, looking mildly irritated. The camera follows. Many minutes pass. The lens is smeared red. Van Damn leaves, looking mildly irritated, having wiped out 40+ in the space of a commercial break.

They have swapped oiled buttocks for body count. This may not please you, but it pleased the fucking hell out of me.

Oh, and did I mention DOLPH?

Hamlin Grade: 10

Part-time Ninja

REVIEW: The Stepfather

2010-04-05T14:10:45Z

Avoiding predictability in movies, especially within the horror genre is a difficult and sometimes near impossible task. Throwing a surprise or two at the audience is very much appreciated.

The producers of The Stepfather went with a completely different formula. Give away everything before the credits are over.

Let's break this pile of shit down.

First off, the movie poster / cover for The Stepfather depicts said replacement parent in a less than benevolent light... that being standing at the top of the cellar stairs brandishing a large piece of cutlery while his replacement or current family cower in fear within the shadows. Now before having even watched a second of this cinematic masterpiece, my first thought was that this man was not one of high moral standard. Seriously, this would be like putting a cock and balls on the cover of The Crying Game. However, let's not judge a book by it's cover.

As I said before, during the credits, we see the Stepfather (played by Dylan Walsh of Nip / Tuck and Congo fame) going through a fairly standard morning ritual that includes the shower, shave, cup of coffee, breakfast and the murder of your wife and three step children. Then he exits the home as the credits close.

A movie about a Stepfather that's a complete dick? Wow there's a fucking stretch.

So what have we learned so far? One, the Stepfather is a murdering asshole. Two, he will soon be bringing his act to a new household where he will attempt to murder everyone there. Three, Nip / Tuck should have been canceled after the third episode.

The Stepfather wastes little time introducing us to the new family through the eyes of the eldest son who is returning from a brief stint at a military school due to the fact that he's an asshole. His mother, siblings and of course the Stepfather welcome him home with open arms.

Initially all seems well, as the Stepfather attempts to ingratiate himself with his new family by preaching family values, doing cool favors for the eldest son (for the record the actor that played him will probably never be in another movie so why waste Google's time by making it searchable here) and treating the younger kids to ice cream and fun! YAY!

Then slowly the wheels begin to come off, and the Stepfather begins going down the road we expect to him... and of course the only one wise to this is the asshole older son.

This is the one thing about horror / thriller movies I can't stand. There is always a character that seems to realize something is wrong with their current situation, and after coming to an intelligent conclusion, voices their opinion to a friend or family member. Normally this individual has a shaky past, which may include substance abuse, rebelling against authority, or perhaps even incarceration... essentially anything that will completely strip them of any credibility and makes believing them difficult to near impossible. Even when these individuals amass piles of evidence, calls for concern are laughed off as ridiculous and eventually shouted down as an indicator of their own poor judgment. The exchange will often unfold like this:

"I saw him kill our mother!"

- "Ohyou are being silly."

"I'm serious, he did it with this knife!"

- "Come on that's ridiculous."

"Mom's blood is still on the blade!"

- "That is most likely ketchup, now stop being such an ass."

"I've got the whole murder right here on video!"

- "That's it, I don't want to hear another word."

Eventually, the Stepfather's charade begins to fall apart and he has to begin Project : Slaughter Entire Family, which of course has everyone saying "Holy shit you were right, he really is a murderous asshole killer".... "We never should have doubted you". Throw in a few sequences of cat and mouse through the house, the family working together to avoid the Stepfather and his knife, and finish it up with and epic battle against the oldest son which ends in both combatants crashing through the pool house. Of course when the authorities arrive, the Stepfather's body is nowhere to be found. Why? Because he's left to seek employment at Home Depot... seriously.

In any case, the whole time I was watching this formulaic piece of shit, I thought to myself, this movie could have been spectacular with only a few minor changes. Instead of a brutal killer, wouldn't it have been great if the Stepfather actually turned out to be a great guy? A stepfather that was a giving and caring man. A stepfather that loved his new wife, and her children unconditionally? A stepfather who was a friend and not trying to replace the father of his wife's children? A stepfather who was well-liked and perhaps even friends with his wife's ex-husband? Maybe even a stepfather who is a great cook that calls to his family currently engaged in a game of hide and seek in the basement prior to carving the turkey on the table?

A stepfather as a good guy. Now that would have been a shocking movie. Perhaps even completely unbelievable.

Hamlin Grade: 1

Timothy Dalton is the one true James Bond,
pat

The Word of Caine

2010-03-03T15:09:00Z

Truth in movies.
The cinema sometimes bends the rules that we cling to for the benefit of enhanced entertainment. In most cases those rules are shattered beyond reason for the benefit of... I have no fucking clue. Below are just a few of the more popular scenarios and archetypes that leave us all bewildered and confused...

..but no matter because thanks to the money you spend to watch this crap I can afford to build another villa in the South of France. Thanks!

Anyone can kick anyone's ass.
It doesn't matter how many years of hand to hand combat training you've logged, or that you are in olympic level athletic condition, on screen the odds are always even, and perhaps slightly stacked against you.

The physics of a fight scene in the cinema are often skewed far beyond what we would deem realistic... and often dance into the realm of completely fucking ridiculous. For example:

An afternoon of karate training under the tutelage of a borderline pedophile plumber is more than sufficient to take on one or multiple individuals who have dedicated their lives to the art of Ninja combat. See Karate Kid.

Physical conditioning, size, weight, and reach are made obsolete on screen, which makes it easy to see why a 110 pound walking penis like David Caruso could easily man handle a fitness addicted actor like Nicholas Cage, as seen in Kiss of Death.

If two combatants square off, and one of them is brandishing a knife or other non-ballistic weapon, the unarmed individual will always win the fight.

Similarly, if one of the two combatants is female, the fighter with the vagina will always win... especially if she is a soccer mom facing off against an ex-Navy SEAL. Unless said Navy SEAL is Charlie Sheen, then they will just have wild, free, unbridled sex.

The Detective.
It's a well known fact that all detectives are sullen, brooding, relentlessly hard-working, alcholic, relationship challenged, avid smokers, addicted to one or more narcotics, currently engaged in some form of therapy (at their Departments request) and always under investigation by the Internal Affairs Department. In fact most of the above are job requirements necessary to make the grade of Detective. Perhaps the most essential part of being a detective is to always be at odds with one's own superior. The best detectives are always fighting with the Chief of Police, often surrendering their shields and piece during investigations ( a motivational tool if you will ) which will of course be returned upon successful apprehension of the suspect and closing of the case with a firm embrace from the aforementioned Chief.

As mentioned before, the most accomplished detectives are unsuccessful at forging and maintaining any sort of relationship. Detectives are always on the verge of a marital collapse, which in most cases is their second or third attempt within the institution. Their ambitious nature coupled with a touch of self absorption and a raging case of alcoholism prevent anyone (other than their partner - who is often killed while working together on the currently unsolvable case ) from getting close to them.

Most often overlooked is the spawn of the detective. Detectives generally have teenage children who have just smashed through the wall of puberty and discovered a whole new range of emotions that include rage, anger, and of course resentment of their hard-working parents. Yes hair on the genitals is a license to be a complete douchebag which in most cases means hating your parent who is employed by the local law enforcement. Fear not however friends.

While the cases these detectives are currently working on may slowly driving them to the brink of madness, and simultaneously destroying their marriage, taking the lives of their partners, and strengthening their dependence with alcohol and narcotics there is a silver lining. Their asshole teenage children, will often be swept up into the case as either a victim and/or suspect and be saved by the parental unit they so despise... thus wiping the slate clean to lay the foundation for a new relationship... which will only collapse again once the detective is assigned a new case.

Nuclear Nautilus.
In post-apocolyptic Earth, after a hard day filled with pursuing gasoline toting refugees, burning villages, and raping everything in site (living or dead), it's difficult to find the time to make it to the gym.

So how is a mutant cyborg barbarian supposed to maintain their peak physical condition while still providing the highest quality murder and rape on the job? Fear not friends.

Fortunately for those of you living in future Earth (the non-Al Gore version... and probably more than likely the more realistic probability), ample radiation, provided by the never-ending nuclear fallout will be all the exercise you will ever need. Just a few minutes of exposure to weapons-grade plutonium is like riding the StairMaster for 15 years.

While this intensive physical regimen does keep today's mutant brigand in Jesus-like shape, it does come with some minor side effects that include, hair loss, tooth decay, the aforementioned blistering flesh, madness, shortened-life span, shrunken testicles, and death. A small price to pay for firm pecs and ripped abs however.

No pain. No gain. No rape.

It went straight through!
There is probably no better way to take down your opponent than with the use of firearms. However shooting a bullet is not always foolproof.

If a bullet strikes an individual in a limb, that appendage is generally rendered useless, and a direct hit to the torso will most certainly fell our hero. However. If the projectile manages to navigate it's way through the flesh, bone, and sinew and emerge on the other side, it's intended target will for all purposes be unharmed. Often these 'straight-through' wounds require little to no medical attention, while a wound that did not exit will bleed profusely until the victim dies of exsanguination.

During a bad movie, the individual who experiences this phenomenon will often exclaim "It went straight through!". This declaration eases the concerns of friends and simultaneously delivers the verbal equivalent of "You missed!" to ones opponent.

This is the word of Caine.

Praise be to Caine.

REVIEW: Halloween II

2010-01-05T18:07:13Z

Authors Note: While attempting to write a review of Rob Zombie's disasterous sequel to his equally disastrous 2007 miscarriage Halloween, I was subject to a series of bizarre dreams and hallucinations. These experiences were sparse in ocurrence and faint in effect at first, so I simply chalked them up as the result of a healthy alcohol diet,combined with the lingering effects of drug experimentation from my college years. But soon the images became more frequent and intense until I found myself wandering through desolate fields at twighlight following a bearded man in a white dress. He resembled a young Jerry Garcia or maybe Al Jourgensen in drag. And he spoke terrible and perverse things to me.

After dispelling the notion that I had been drugged and seduced to the woods by some deluded whino in heat, I became consumed with the notion that someone - or something - was attempting to possess my very body, mind and soul; to speak through me. What follows is a brief journal excerpt in which I managed to document the revelation I received from this dark, malevolent force.

My name is Robert B. Zombie. And I am a genius. In fast I might be the most geniusest genius to ever walk this earth and certainly the most geniusest to ever make a movie. I also make music. Remember that song "More Human That Human"? The one with the awesome slide riff? Yeah that was me. My slutty-looking wife's name is Sherri Moon Zombie and although she's not a genius like me she is a respectable piece of ass and the greatest actress in the world. That's the kind of tail you can pull when you're a genius, or in a band.

I have just completed my epic reimagining of the horror classic "Halloween" which took two parts to realize and -like my music- made me all kinds of teenage money. I don't mind telling you that my genius has made me filthy rich. And my Halloween films are clearly superior to the John Carpenter ones that came before. They were all like, build up and tension. Not enough stabbing. Worse yet, they didn't even explain why this dude in the mask went around totally shredding hot babes and their geeky boyfriends. And so one day while swimming with Sheri through our giant piles of money I had my genius idea to remake that movie and explain why the little Myers kid was all fucked up. This gave me a chance to display my geniusy film making skills, which I had already perfected in "House of 1,000 Corpses" and "The Devil's Rejects."

Can you believe some people thought it was wrong of me to show Michael's backstory? My Halloween didn't even get any Academy Awards; not even one for Sheri who clearly should've gotten the nod for Best Actress. What total fucks! Most people don't understand genius, but alot of the ones that do left their trailer parks and showed up in droves to see my movie and they loved it. They loved it so much that Dimension films wanted -no begged- me to do a follow up. HA! Suck it Ebert!

I think I'll do a re-reboot of the Batman franchise next. I mean I know people slobbered all over that Nolan guy's balls for his Batmans, but let's not kid ourselves here; the man is no genius. And I've already got the most geniusest idea for my re-reimaginings. Instead of Bruce Wayne being some spoiled rich kid who's parents get murdered by a thief I'm gonna have him born in a trailer park, the son of an abusive stepdad who dresses up like a clown and makes little Bruce dress up like a Bat while he does things to him. This is a way cooler origin story than those other stupid movies and comic books. Sheri can even play Cat Lady or Poison Oak or whatever her name is. Oh and I won't spoil it for you but there'll be a way cool suprise when people find out who The Joker REALLY is! And there'll be a scene where he stabs this hot topless stripper like, A THOUSAND TIMES! AND AGAIN! AND AGAIN! AND....ahem.

And if those mpaa faggots have a problem with it, they can suck on my big genius!

The Zombie hath spoken.

Hamlin Grade: .5

Everything you ever loved will be sodomized by Michael Bay,
Joey

REVIEW: Command Performance

2009-11-11T12:42:44Z

Die Hard at a rock concert directed by Dolph Lundgren. How could I say No?

Dolph Lundgren stars as Joe, an ex-biker in a shitty rock band who ends up having to save The Russian President from a Jason Statham look-a-like. Meanwhile The Dolphster kills a guy with a drum stick and an electric guitar and is squeamish about guns for ridiculous reasons until finally being convinced that bringing a guitar to a gun fight is a dumb idea. With Dolph as an ass-kicking biker/drummer we are supposed to believe that Dolph can somehow save the day and that Venus played by Melissa Smith of the Pussycat Dolls (!) In other words it's what you would expect from your premise, and it certainly is the wackiest Die Hard rip off since Sudden Death.

That said, Dolph looks uncannily like Kris Kristofferson in his older age especially when he winks at the pussycat doll and puts a mack on the little philly. After years of seeing our action stars turn into pussies, it was nice to see that Dolph could woo a pop princess young enough to be his daughter without even speaking a word. This is probably because high maintence babes need a bad boy prick to treat them like whores and if there's one thing we know about bikers and male rock stars is that they like to treat their women like whores. Indeed the finale finds The Pussycat Doll putting her head on Dolph's shoulder, and we just know Dolph is but two minutes from receiving a blow job from the pussycat doll lead singer. It's even more telling in how aiding Dolph in battle she shoots one guy in the whole film, who was already wounded. But she's a woman so what do you expect?

This also marks the debut of Dolph Lundgren's daughter, and she's about as good as Jean-Claude Van Damme's son was in Derailed. Which is to say not very. Indeed the next Universal Soldier movie which brings back Van Damme and Dolph has JCVD's son. Which kinda pisses me off. It's sort of like how cool Ozzy Osbourne was before his damn family got on our nerves. We like Ozzy but not his family. Ergo we like Van Damme and Dolph, because they kick people's asses, however we do not want to see their sons or daughters in roles that could've gone to someone better (or worse) for both Van Damme and Dolph earned our love (and attraction) and by no means will we accept their offspring just because of who they're related to. You don't see fan clubs for Mike Norris or Chad McQueen do you?

Anyway Command Performance, it's a great bad movie, and worth seeing merely for the most hilarious death scenes in a while. I mean not since Van Damme used a turkey bone to kill, has there been a more enjoyable Die Hard rip off. Indeed, if only Eric Roberts had played the villain like he was supposed, then this would've been a classic for the ages. Now it's just worth seeing as a hilarious portrayal of Dolph Lundgren and his effortless attempts to sodomize Pussycat doll singers. Personally, I think there's a movie right there.

Hamlin Grade: 7.5

Ryan
-Board certified professional safety dancer

REVIEW: Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus

2009-10-20T13:05:43Z

Oh I have been waiting to stick my tentacle into this one. "This one" being Deborah "Debbie" Gibson and/or the ill conceived sci/fi disaster that is Mega Shark Vs. Giant Octopus.

Word to the wise: any time you see "The Asylum presents" during a film's opening title sequence, settle in and know that what you are about to behold will be nothing short of a masterpiece in cinema suckage. MSVGO doesn't dissapoint! in the suckage department anyhow. Now since the title might be a little cryptic let me take a moment to explain that this movie continues the tried and true scifi/horror formula of pitting two traditionally bloodthirsty creatures against one another in deadly combat. In this case fin on tentacle combat. Sounds fun right?

The action kicks off in arctic waters with a miniature submarine appearing "out of the blue" piloted by (who else?) Deborah "Debbie" Gibson, looking pretty hot for her age and taking in the majesty of the aquatic life surrounding her; apparently from the cheap stock footage inserted here the arctic contains about every species of marine animal known to man, and a couple that have been....forgotten. DUH! DUH! DUH! Debbie notices a herd of humpback whales making a beeline past the minisub and - wouldn't you know it! - the goddamned military is at it again! bombing glaciers for some reason which will never be explained to us. Unfortunately for them (but fortunately for us, otherwise this gem wouldn't exist) their folly releases two slumbering behemoths in the form of - that's right - a giant great white shark (known to scientists as megaladon) and a huge octopus (pussus magnus) Somehow the two titans had managed to get themselves trapped in ice back in the day during an epic battle and once awakened decide to part company for a while and wreak a little havoc upon humanity while gearing up for the rematch.

An oil rig off the coast of Japan is attacked by our massively tentacled friend and our strikingly Japanese male lead - the intrepid Dr. Seiji (played by some guy named Vic Chao) - is brought in to find out what's what. Upon learning of the hideous monstrosity lurking in the Pacific Dr. Seiji decides to pay a visit to San Francisco where it seems other paranormal happenings are afoot. DUH! DUH! DUH! Could it be the work of the same monster? (of course not dickhead. i already told you there were two monsters in this movie, not one and anyway what Emma MacNeil/ Debbie Gibson found while digging inside that bloated whale carcass was tooth, not tentacle) Oh yeah i forgot to mention that part. A giant whale carcass washes up on the California coast and after some clever subterfuge involving a token black cop, Ms. MacNeil retrieves what she learns to be a fragment of a megaladon tooth from it's bloated corpse. She learns this after taking said fragment to her old professor and former U.S. Navy pilot Lamar Sanders (played by some guy named Sean Taylor who's fake Scottish accent makes Brad Pitt's fake Austrian accent from Seven Years in Tibet look Oscar-worthy) The three scientist quickly discover that there are in fact two sea beasts and that we're all in deep shit if they don't act quickly because apparently the U.S. military possesses the technology to vaporize islands, but as for giant marine animals? not so much. Oh I almost forgot to mention that Lorenzo Lamas plays the stereotypical uber government jackass who bitches and cojoles Debbie and co. into saving the world. You would've thought he could've gotten the lead opposite Miss Gibson. I guess he wasn't Japanese enough.

So it's up to our trio of scientists to come up with some solution to the connundrum that is Mega Shark and Giant Octopus. As is often the case with these dilemmas the answer is delivered to our heroes after coitus. Two of our heroes make the Megabeast with two backs (the Scot gets left out) and in the musky afterglow of their love the idea for luring the creatures to strategic spots using pheromones comes to Emma/Debbie. Unfortunately we're left with no shots of the deed itself which would have greatly enhanced this pictures Hamlin rating. Nary a tit nor an asscheek to be seen. We don't even get Van Damned by the Japanese guy. For some reason San Fransisco Bay is chosen as the Giant Sharks trap which doesn't turn out too well for the Golden Gate bridge. Some strategy huh? As for the Octopus and the Japanese, the film mercifully leaves them to focus on Debbie and the Shark.

To make a long story short it eventually occurs to Emma to lure the creatures back into the conflict they were frozen in at the beginning of the movie. The ensuing fight and special effects would've made Ed Wood shoot his wad. Who will win? Who will lose? Can you guess? Yep that's right. They both kill each other. Apparently. I've yet to discern the actual death moves that bring about this dissapointing result. So the movie gives us the dissapointing yet typical-both monsters kill each other off sparing the rest of the world-climax.

What a cop out. No winner. No naked Debbie Gibson. This movie should've ended with the Lorenzo, Debbie, the Jap, and the Giant Octopus all locked in a human/cephalopod orgy (imagine the possibilities) of victory with the Scot watching, an ending which not only would've jacked this movie's Hamlin rating through the roof but would also have made it the greatest movie of all time. For these crimes a Hamlin shall be deducted.

But hark! In what could be the greatest irony of all time the film literally and figuratively "jumps the shark" in a spectacularly conceived and disastrously executed sequence where the Shark launches itself from the ocean to devour a passing 747. (The visual effects are Playstation 2 at best) So for this feat I shall award an extra Hamlin and a half.

Hamlin Grade: 8.5

Everything you ever loved will be sodomized by Michael Bay,
Joey