There is very little introduction I can give to Mean Guns. Netflix recommended it to me due to my enjoyment of action movies, Christopher Lambert, and distilled llama shit.
Okay, maybe Netflix doesn’t have a “distilled llama shit” category, but once their transhuman cyborganic algorithmics figure out what I watch, they will. Oh, they will.
I come back to this blog with a load off my heart, a spring in my step, and a sackfull of clichés.
For every movie fan there is one actor that you find yourself drawn to again and again, whose movies– whatever dubious qualities they hold– are the ones you simply cannot turn away from. You will be channel-flipping and land three-quarters of the way through one of their films; Hoarders will wait on TiVo. You pass by DVD case after DVD case at Best Buy, totally uninterested in the wares offered, until you see a hitherto unknown film, shot in Serbia with cameras salvaged from a St. Vincent’s charity shop in Finland; that gift card is about to be put to good use.
You cannot explain the appeal of this actor, nor do you think you should even have to. All you know is that whatever diminishing returns and appeal he holds, you will be there in the front row (or more likely on the sofa), enraptured by his every word.
For me, that actor is Christopher Lambert.
So it’s been a long time. Feck off, it’s my blog and I can drop in as I please!
Ahem.
Now, everyone who knows me knows I love a good strong female action hero. (Except for The Bride. Not only do I dislike Tarentino with a passion, but Uma Thurman looks like an ostrich with bad hair– an image I could not get out of mind during both movies.) Kick-ass girls tend to show up more in foreign productions (Run Lola Run, La Femme Nikita, the work of Luc Besson) than American and the film I am reviewing today is no exception: Ichi, directed by Fumihiko Sori.
Okay, I know I’ve made some empty promises to this site over the brief span of its existence. I have made wild claims, perhaps even lied to you, our dear readers. But I swear to you all, on the graves of all of the ancestors I probably have somewhere, that I will write a review for “Expendables”.
(See? I have even written this pre-review so that you will have a contract signed by me, swearing that I will be writing this review ~v)
“Oh, yes”, you roll your eyes and drawl “Of course you will, Vicki” in a cutting yet not undeserved commentary on my past failures to act upon my words. But this movie, with no doubt, is the crux of my quarter century upon this planet; a gem gleaming on a pedestal untouched by by the drab mediocrity of adulthood. Clearly it has come, this reward, to commemorate the great year and month 25 years past, that I, Vicki was born, an action movie, so amazing, so breathtaking, so superwickedbadass, that many flail uncontrollably when they speak of it. Yes, “The Expendables” is that movie. In fact, every time I am reminded of it, I begin to gibber. Its getting a little embarrassing, I’m told.
For those of you who haven’t heard, “Expendables”, expected August 13, 2010, is about a team of mercenaries sent to South America to kill a dictator, or something like that…Blah Blah Blah. But it doesn’t really matter, because that’s the LEAST exciting part about this movie! Dear readers, prepare your emergency adult diapers as I tell you why this is the most *insert superlative here* film to be made since I was a wee child forced to endure the 80s.
IS IT NOT AMAZING?
…
Oh, I’m sorry. You need more?
MORE? BESIDES Sylvester Fuckin’ Stallone, Jet-I-Shit-You-Not- Li, and Jason-I-told-you-you’d-need-a-diaper- Statham???!!!! Okay then.
HERE’S YOUR MORE!
It’s been awhile, but honestly, it’s been awhile since I saw a movie in theatres…
PUBLIC ENEMIES: C’mon! Johnny Depp playing 1930s gangster John Dillenger? How would I NOT want to see this? As much as I love Johnny Depp, I must say this: the older he gets, the more his agent/etc want to cast him as this whitey-white boy protagonist. And truth be told, the older he gets, the more Johnny Depp looks like what he is– a mostly Cherokee Indian! The most obvious bit was in Neverland– you couldn’t pay me to think that that man has one drop of Scottish blood in him.
DISTRICT 9: Hopefully they will keep the documentary-style camera work throughout the film, because that, honestly, would be GREAT. A sci-fi mvie done entirerly straight, just trying to be sociological about the subject matter, would be so refreshing. I will probably see this…depends on what I heat.
TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN: Quite literally the worst CGI I’ve seen in 10 years. Good Lord.
INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS: For the love of everything Good and Holy. Brad Pitt, quite literally, looks like my grandfather did during his own WW2 years. I’ve never once thought Brad Pitt was attractive, but seeing him as Granpaw would remove all lingering doubts. What the FUCK is with that awful Southern accent!? Seriously, I think Quentin Tarantino is one of the most overrated directors on the planet. He’s a good screenwriter. Hell, I’d even say he’s a good actor! Just…please, do NOT give him the full reins to a movie. Ow.
SHERLOCK HOLMES: The first trailer, and the only one I hissed to Mah D00d, “If you like it or not, I am dragging you to see this”. C’MON– Robert Downey, Jr. as Sherlock, in a kicky Victorian wardrobe, sans clothing several times, engaged in a cage-fight, and directed by Guy Ritchie, post the soud-sucking Succubus that is Madonna?
How could I NOT see this!?!
Continue reading ‘TRAILER REVIEWS: The Ones Before “Terminator: Salvation”’
The T-800, the original Ah-Nald series Terminator, was sent back to destroy Sarah Connor on May 12, 1984.
I was born exactly one year later.
No wonder I love the series.
So I went to see the latest instalment in the Terminator series this weekend. I have always been something of a Terminator fan: I saw/was traumatized by the first movie when I was about 5 (GREAT PARENTING THERE, Mom and Dad!) and saw T2 around middle school. I admit I skipped T3 (as did most of the movie-going world…shudder…) but I have a big soft spot for the first two movies, if only because they have a kick-ass female protagonist.
I’m 110% honest here: I consider the Terminator movies to be the first feminist action series.
Let’s face it, as much as I love action movies, they’re pretty weak when it comes to chicks. Women in action movies are mostly damsels in distress or femme fatales– there are damn few heroines in the genre, which is a fucking shame. Princess Leia probably kicked off the beginning of positive, kick-ass women in action movies, but really, she’s one of a very, very small minority.
This is why Sarah Connor is so important to the action movie genre. She’s presented to us as the stereotypical damsel-in-distress during the first parts of The Terminator, but Goddamn it, she realizes the danger she’s in, she reacts to it, and she does whatever the Hell she can do to stay alive– but at the same time she doesn’t sacrifice her femininity. She falls in love with and becomes impregnated with Kyle Reese, and she mourns his death as a true partner, and as a mother.
Sarah’s role throughout the series is as “the mother”– John Connor is supposed to be “the prophet”, and she mostly does not matter…supposedly. Take as many Mary/Jesus comparisons as you will. This, however, simply is not the case. Sarah is, in many ways, more important than John, and that is not just because biologically without her he would not exist. After the death of Kyle Reese, Sarah is literally the only person in the world who knows what will happen in the next 20-30 years. She must live with that burden and shoulder it as well as she can, while still raising a child who has no idea what the future will bring.
The Terminator series has always been a great example of positive female characters in the action genre. Terminator Salvation upholds this standard: Lt. Blair Williams (Moon Goodblood) does nothing more than share a tearful kiss with her beloved at the tail end of the movie. Otherwise, she is a strong, independant, take-no-shit-from-anyone kind of gal. She appreciates a helping hand, but doesn’t expect anyone to rescue her.
In my opinion, Sarah Connor ought to be considered the patron saint of Action Chicks. Being an action chick does not mean compromising your femininity. It does not mean you must pull a “Mulan” (sorry, Vicki!) and try to be what you are not. You can only be what you are, and if the odds come down to it…
Bitch, kick some ass.
I’ve got your back.
ETA: My wonderful boyfriend gave me his mint-in-box T2 Sarah Connor action figure (http://www.toywiz.com/mcfsarahhat.html) after I expressed how much I admired this character. I knew there was some reason I keep that boy around…
How do I love thee, Arnold Schwarzenegger? Lemme count the ways:
1) Your name is nearly unpronounceable, much less spell-able– yet I spelled it right the first time.
2) You’re the Gubernator of my (mostly) home state, and when you ran against Gray Davis it was the first year I was legally allowed to vote (although I admit I didn’t vote for you, since I knew you were going to win anyway…I voted for the sumo wrestler running against you. My God, it was a wonderful thing to be a Californian that year).
3) You starred in Last Action Hero, possibly the only movie my dad worked on that he liked working on.
3a) As a result of that movie, I have your autograph.
4) You starred in The Running Man.
YES so I booked my own passage aboard the Failship. (Can I be the bosun? I always liked saying “bosun”…) My excuse is: I have one day a week when I’m not in grad school or at work. Life has a tendency to get in the way.
But now that I am back for the moment, let me speak of The Bank Job, a gloriously stupid heist flick that has two things immediately going for it:
1) It has Jason Statham in it
2) It is the only DVD I have ever seen that does not have a synopsis of the actual movie on the case….anywhere. Seriously! No summary on the back. No tagline. No nothing that lets you know what this movie is actually about. Although to be fair, if you’re renting a Jason Statham movie you kind of know what you’re in for. I love the man dearly, but it’s not like he does the works of Marlowe between shoot-em-up action flicks.
Sorry for the long hiatus! This time I actually have no excuse and only one reason: his name is House, M.D. For anyone who dares question the greatness of House there will be punishing blows and ear-rending cries. Let it be known. Do not question the greatness of House. Moving on.
Two things got me off my ass and moving. One was a text from Susanna (who has also mysteriously disappeared from teh webz), the other, a blog review from Action Flick Chick. Perhaps some of my lethargy was due to the fact that our readers tend to ninja in and out leaving little to no trace of their visit. Please! Leave a comment! It makes us feel read and appreciated. Being read and appreciated makes us happy, and being happy makes us watch more movies and belittle the crap out of them! Its a strange cycle, I know.
During one of our physical visits (that sounds a little like a conjugal visit, doesn’t it?), Susanna mentioned seeing the movie “I Am Legend”. I returned, “I read a book called ‘I Am Legend’”! And thus began horrific conversation in which we discovered one was based on the other. To this day I have not seen the movie, and I believe that Susanna has likewise not read the book. Now, I would like to ask anyone who still keeps up with this blog to provide some input.
Would anyone be interested in the gist of our conversation? I’m sure that we could put something together to public ally display our bewildered confusion develop into horrified discovery? OR
Would anyone be interested in forcing me to watch this movie so that my mind will force my eyes to bleed in denial of the mutilation this story? OR
Would everyone yell at us to get on with reviewing action movies like the blog says we do?
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