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Reviews
Night Tide (1961)
Dennis Hopper is to Owen Wilson as Jack Nicholson is to Christian Slater
The summary above pretty much provides blanket coverage for my surprise discovery that Wilson's copious "aw-shucks" deadpan deliveries, particularly in the Wes Anderson / Noah Baumbach portion of his oeuvre, resonate eerily with those of Dennis Hopper in this very bad film. Aside from the above, this film should be served rare, as a prime entrée, ripe and ready for a grand "Mystery Science Theater 3000"-style skewering. I couldn't help but feel the desire when, stranded like Joel on my sadly solo Satellite of Love sofa, as my cats channeled Crow and Tom Servo, that my viewing experience was, despite my exciting Wilson/Hopper epiphany, nonetheless, a rather vacuous experience. Next time, I'll be ready. Do not watch this film alone. Not only is Marjorie Eaton's weak performance as Madame Romanovitch likely to induce in the viewer a state she convincingly portrays in an uncredited role as a demented patient in the 1948 great, The Snake Pit, but both Linda Lawson as Mora and Marjorie Cameron as the Water Witch, may very well push one quite over the edge. Do not watch this alone. Do serve it with poi. It'll take the edge off.
A Time to Kill (1996)
Reification of Reproduction - Nuclear Family Uber-Alles
The subtext of a woman's value residing in her reproductive capacity reduces what could and should have been a fine film into a morality tale. The nefariousness of emphasizing Tonya Hailey's (Rae'Ven Larrymore Kelly) permanent damage, that she'll never bear children of her own, and likewise, the undertow of Ellen Roark (Sandra Bullock) as probable spinster to be, mars an otherwise laudable tale of social justice. Roark isn't invited to the party at the end - and Tonya is the first to greet the Brigance's daughter, Hannah (Alexandra Kyle) - as if she lready knows that she has some work to do if she wants to make her way in this world. Tonya's existence resides in its disparity from Hannah's; one girl is disadvantaged in every conceivable way, whereas Hannah is the golden child of parents (McConnaughey and Judd) who prove paragons of virtue in a fashion that smacks of class-based Post-Commune Parisian didacticism. Carl Lee Hailey's righteous vigilante revenge nonetheless fails to eradicate the truth of the "damage" to Tonya's maternal capacity that is highlighted in the courtroom scenes, and which sways the jury only because they imagine a little white girl similarly damaged as Jake Brigance utilizes an impromptu guided imagery exercise based on Carl Lee Hailey's revelation that he, Jake, by oxymoronic virtue of his white guilt, is therefore the only man who can save the accused. Silently, unwittingly, however, the viewer is drawn into finding both Roark and young Tanya guilty of nulliparous existence. Freud once asked what women want. Freedom from this kind of insidious cultural shaming would be a nice start.
The X Files (1998)
Hair & Make-Up Production Values for the Acerebral
Okay, given the current state of our planet's climatic mayhem, perhaps within another fifty to one hundred years, the currently obvious ridiculousness of hair actually blowing and flowing in the climes of the Arctic tundra may not strike the viewer as quite so absurd. I've never lived farther north than Duluth, MN, but believe me - Scully and Mulder's hair would have first frozen and then snapped right off, leaving them both with bald patches, if not totally Vin Dieseled into hairless submission. Furthermore, lying face down in the snow would have resulted in more than a few reddish scrapes and scratches. We'd be talking full-on frost-bite, blackened skin (the tip of the nose in particular, would surely have turned to a lovely shade of charcoal - the edges of both ears would likely have matched the obsidian schnoz). We can skip the gangrene and amputation bit, because we all know Hollywood can't resist a little cheerful suspension of disbelief, but COME ON. This bordered on the travesty of the 90210 sideburns of Dazed and Confused infamy. Granted, I may be the only part-time hair and make-up artist in the Midwest who objects obsessively to both of these cinematic infractions against the oft-ignored art of basic H & M, but for the sake of those of us who give a rat's hiney, would somebody PLEASE hire these "artistes" with a bit more care? The days of "glamour uber-alles" truly deserve to be curtailed; reality, even when it's not pretty, deserves more screen time. Seriously, the final scenes of The X-Files, the Movie, very nearly ruined the whole experience for me. You have been warned. The Pseudo-Artists Are Out There.
Kickboxer (1989)
Muay Thai Muy Bien
Jean-Claude Van Damme turns in a solid performance as Kurt Sloane - the younger brother who seeks revenge against the demoniacally sadistic Bangkok bad guy, Tong Po (Michel Qissi), who paralyzes Kurt's older brother - Eric - implausibly cast and ineptly acted by Dennis Alexio. The simplistic explanation for the siblings' lack of resemblance to one another in terms of class, ethnicity - and language is too hilariously weak to warrant revealing. Although the film is rife - and ripe - with trademark eighties cheese, the Muay Thai fight sequences are adroitly choreographed, shot and edited. This film is a must for Muay Thai buffs and offers plenty of unintentionally, but nonetheless highly comical relief. Without a doubt, the best of the three Kickboxer films --- but also quite possibly the one possessed of the very worst soundtrack.