Scream to Scream, Scene by Scene: SCENE 14 of Scream 3 (0:51:25-0:55:33)

In this project I attempt to review the entire Scream trilogy scene by scene in chronological order. Heavy spoilers and gore throughout!



SCENE 14 of Scream 3
Length: 4mins 8secs
Primary Characters: Sidney Prescott, Dewey Riley, Gale Weathers, Martha Meeks (Heather Matarazzo), Randy Meeks (Jamie Kennedy), and Detective Wallace.
Pop Culture References:

• The Godfather Part III and The Return of the Jedi (Used as trilogy examples)
• Reservoir Dogs (Randy describes a potential crime scene this way)

Are you ready for the worst scene in the entire franchise? Gosh, I HOPE SO!

Oh my gawd. Do you know what's behind that door? WELL DO YOU? It's something far scarier than Ghostface could ever be. And given it's daylight on a heavily populated location, the film's use of the "boo scare" reveal just makes the following character introduction ever worse. Sigh. It gives me great pains to present to you...

"Don't shoot, I'm only 17!"

MARTHA MEEKS AND THE HIDEOUS GOLD ANIMAL PRINT PANTS FROM HEEEEEELLLL!!

No, but seriously, Martha is awful, and her clothes are awful, and this scene is awful, and Heather Matarazzo is awful (in this), and Martha is awful, and her clothes are awful, and her clothes are awful, and Martha is awful.

Well, you get the picture. Literally.

Not only did they have to give Heather Matarazzo an entirely terrible character that wears entire terrible clothes and exists for entirely terrible expository reasons, but they make the actress say ludicrous rubbish dialogue like the bonmot underneath the screencap. I just can't with this scene, you guys. Every single time I watch this movie I skip it. Well, that is unless I'm screening it for somebody for the first time and they've never witnessed the shocking sights that it holds in its tight, leopard print grip. *shudder*

Well done anonymous police extras. I feel much safer knowing Heather Matarazzo can't stab me to death now that you're around. :/

"What are you doing here?"
"There's something you guys should see."

No seriously, what is she doing there and how did she get onto the lot? "I'm the real life sister of somebody portrayed in Stab" probably doesn't get a lot of gorky 17-year-olds onto film sets these days. Could she not express post the video rather than jumping out of film set trailers in retina-burning pants? SHOULDN'T SHE BE IN SCHOOL INSTEAD OF GALLIVANTING AROUND LOS ANGELES?!? "We miss you in Woodsboro," she says. Yeah, I'm sure they're really disappointed that a new serial killing Ghostface is on the scene and has decided to take up residence in another town. Really disappointed. That does remind me of one of Scream 4's most potent moments, when a crime scene onlooker goes all The Birds on Neve Campbell's Sidney and blames her for bringing the killings with her. But we're getting ahead of ourselves, aren't? This scene has plenty more awful stuff to go yet.

RANDY!

And yet still one of the worst decisions they could have made. It's just silly, isn't it? I mean, this shit is morbid for Martha to be holding on to that tape just in case another killer comes around, isn't it?

"Toldja I'd make a movie some day! Well, if you're watching this tape it means, as I feared, I did not survive these killings here at Windsor College. And that giving up my virginity to to Karen Colcheck at the video store was probably not a good idea."
"Karen Colcheck?"
"Yes, Karen Colcheck."
"Creepy Karen?"
"Shut up! She was a sweet person. We were working late, putting away some videos in the porno section and, ya know, shit happens."

Oh lord, the video tape back and forth between Dewey and Randy! :/

I'm glad you find your goody future husband's banter so funny, Gale, but while you're here in this scene, I think we can all agree that we'd much rather be watching Gale & Gale Investigations on another channel.

I'm not gonna lie, guys. I'm debating whether to even include Scream 3's "trilogy" rules. I mean, it's just so silly and tacked on. This would have at least made more sense if, as Scream 3 was originally meant to do, it was set in Woodsboro. Alas.

"The reason I am here is to help you so that my death won't be in vein. So that my life's work will help save some other poor soul from being mutilated. If this killer does come back and he's for real, there are a few things you gotta remember. Is this simply another sequel? Well, if it is: same rules apply. Here's the critical thing. If you find yourself dealing with an unexpected back-story, and a preponderance of expedition then the sequel rules do not apply. Because you are not dealing with a sequel. You are dealing with the concluding chapter... of a trilogy!

That's right, it's a rarity in the horror field, but it does exist. It's a force to be reckoned with, because true trilogies are all about going back to the beginning and discovering something that wasn't true from the get go. Godfather, Jedi, all revealed something that wasn't true that we thought was true. So if it is a trilogy you're dealing with here are some super trilogy rules...

"1. You've got a killer who's going to be super human. Stabbing him won't work, shooting him won't work. Basically in the third one you gotta cryogenically freeze his head, decapitate him, or blow him up.
2. Anyone including the main character can die. This means you, Sid. It's the final chapter. It could be fucking Reservoir Dogs by the time this thing's through.
3. The past will come back to bite you in the ass. Whatever you think you know about the past, forget it. The past is not at rest. Any sins you think were committed in the past are about to break out and destroy you.

And he goes on to wish them good luck and, "for some", a see you soon invitation. Of course, nobody from this group actually did die, nor did the finale end up like Reservoir Dogs. If anything, Scream 4 adhered to the rules of Scream 3 much more than Scream 3 did. Funny to note that there was originally a fourth rule, "never be alone." It was taken out because, hilariously, Gale goes off by herself (and the others let her without a fuss, curiously) as soon as Martha leaves.

An amber-hued hair clip. Seriously. AND THOSE PANTS OH MY GAWD! Of course, it just keeps better and better worse and worse.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I repeat.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How long until this late '90s, early '00s fashion trend takes off again?

AND THEN THEY JUST SEND HER ON HER WAY!

Sorry for getting so shouty, but it bears shouting. I mean, she shows up out of the blue in Hollywood, shows them a video tape, and then just walks off into the (figurative) sunset. Hell, I'd be thinking she was a suspect. Especially given what her brother's own video said about the past and the beginning and things never being what they seem. Is it too crazy for these guys to assume (or at least Gale since she doesn't personally know Martha) that maybe Randy was a puppeteer from the very start and now he's using his meek sister (lol, MEEK!) to play out some of his dirty work?

You guys, I just came up with the better ending to Scream 3. Sigh.

Even if that wasn't the case, wouldn't they feel a bit strange about sending this 17-year-old off by herself amongst Hollywood as a serial killer is on the loose specifically targeting people with connections (however fictional) to the original Woodsboro?

Sigh.

Thank gawd that's over because one scene later we revisit Gale & Gale Investigations, which is basically what I want my life to be like, okay?

Scream:
Intro, Scene 1, Scene 2, Scene 3, Scene 4, Scene 5, Scene 6, Scene 7, Scene 8, Scene 9, Scene 10, Scene 11, Scene 12, Scene 13, Scene 14, Scene 15, Scene 16, Scene 17, Scene 18, Scene 19, Scene 20, Scene 21, Scene 22, Scene 23, Scene 24, Scene 25, Scene 26, Scene 27, Scene 28, Scene 29, Scene 30, Scene 31 Scene 32, Scene 33, End Credits

Scream 2
Scene 1, Scene 2, Scene 3, Scene 4, Scene 5, Scene 6, Scene 7, Scene 8, Scene 9, Scene 10, Scene 11, Scene 12, Scene 13, Scene 14. Scene 15, Scene 16, Scene 17, Scene 18, Scene 19, Scene 20, Scene 21, Scene 22, Scene 23, Scene 24, Scene 25, Scene 26, Scene 27, Scene 28, Scene 29, Scene 30, End Credits

Scream 3
Scene 1, Scene 2, Scene 3, Scene 4, Scene 5, Scene 6, Scene 7, Scene 8, Scene 9, Scene 10, Scene 11, Scene 12, Scene 13

Fiona Shaw's Gangster Squad

Did you know, Mr Bleichert, that Ramona Boulevard is named after me."
"I didn't."
"When Emmett married me for my father's money, he promised my family that he would use his influence with the city's zoning board to have a street named after me. But all he could manage was a dead-end block in a red light district. In Lincoln... Hhhh-eights. Are you familiar with the neighbourhood, Mr Bleichert."
"I grew up there."
"Yes, well, then you'll know that Mexican prostitutes expose themselves from windows. I hear many of them know Mr Liscott by name!"
"Shut up!"
"I will sing for my supper when Mayor Bowran comes to dinner, but not for Madeleine's male whores. He's a common policeman, my god! How little you think of me.

The above is a transcript of one of Fiona Shaw's two incredibly memorable scenes from Brian De Palma's 2006 retelling of the famous "Black Dahlia" murder. It is inarguable one of just many incredibly odd scenes to be found across De Palma's altogether messy film, The Black Dahlia. A film that reached such sky high levels of badness that it veered directly into unintentionally camp laugh riot. Shaw, it would seem, is the only actor the whole affair who was able to see what film was being made and went about not only stealing it outright from everybody else, but doing so in a style that continues to amaze me to this very day. In just two brief scenes Fiona Shaw was able to give The Black Dahlia a legacy of some sort beyond being a pretty failure. One person once described her as an "utter loon" and who could argue with that? I know many hate this movie - and with good reason, I'd suggest - but I enjoy it as an exercise in complete and utter foolhardy, Hollywoodised rubbish. Shaw is the lone star amongst a collection of dull, imploding masses of clay (I'm looking at you Scarlett Johannson, Josh Hartnett, Aaron Echkart, and Hilary Swank as a ridiculously unsexy Russian lesbian who doesn't for a single moment look "just like that dead girl", no matter what Johansson's playing-in-mummy's-wardrobe performance would have you believe.)

I bring up The Black Dahlia because last night I saw Gangster Squad, new film by Ruben Fleischer (Zombieland) that got shafted to a January release date after the shooting tragedy at a Colorado movie theatre. Set two years after the events of The Black Dahlia, Gangster Squad shares a similarly styled aesthetic, although one that lacks the lush intricacies of Dahlia. Dione Beebe's overly computerised digital photography and the overly artificial sets don't have any of the eye-popping class of Vilmos Zsigmond's Oscar-nominated cinematography or uniquely specific sets from De Palma's movie. Mark Isham's musical score for the latter is equally fine, especially compared to Squad's Nolan-inspired boom score from Michael Bay collaborator Steve Jablonsky. If the actors are by and large better in Gangster Squad then that's more an indictment of The Black Dahlia, but they still fail to enliven a fairly mediocre movie. Emma Stone looks particularly lost at sea playing a sexy dame with eyes for Ryan Gosling's bad boy cop. That her entrance is a replication of Michelle Pfeiffer's breakthrough into cinema history in Scarface does her little favours.

Still, the film's biggest problem is its tone. Whether this is a result of having to (literally) go back to the editing room and recut the film to, at least, remove any trace of the infamous cinema shooting scene that caused such a controversy after the Aurora massacre, I'm not sure, but I think it's fair to say there was a problem long before that tragedy unfolded. I suspect there's little coincidence that Sean Penn's villain (as well as many of his henchmen) resemble Dick Tracy characters, but why then not go all the way and give the film an entirely cartoonish quality? It certainly would have made some of its more excessive directorial flourishes more palatable. I craved a scene or two that was as maddeningly bonkers as Fiona Shaw's inclusion in The Black Dahlia. I longed for a scene as deliciously in your face and technically savvy as that film's long take as the body of Elizabeth Short was found. Sadly none were to be found.

Similarly, if it's not going to reach the crazy end of the pool, why not go serious and aim for LA Confidential or The Untouchables? It's not as if the cast was wanting for something serious, but the no man's land that Gangster Squad finds itself in does nobody any favours. By the time Josh Brolin's leathery hide was chasing down buggies and latching on them like he was T1000 I'd long since given up interest. Which is a shame, but not altogether unsurprising. The aforementioned cinema scene looked like a film peak from the trailer so its exclusion is as disappointing in that regard as it is unnecessary. But, there's nothing they can do about it now. C

I will say this though: Gangster Squad's end credits are fabulous. It's not actually a diss to say they're the best part of the film because they're genuinely excellent. They were done by a company called Scarlet Letters and if you do go see the film please stay and watch them all.

You show 'em, Fiona!

31 Horrors: Hardware (#22)

Wherein I attempt to watch 31 horror films over the course of October. 31 horror films that I have never seen before, from obscure to acclaimed classics. We'll see how well I go in actually finding the time to watch and then write about them in some way.

Well this was insane and I loved it.

It's hardly surprising to discover that Richard Stanley's 1990 sci-fi/horror action flick received a poor critical reception upon its release. It's a tough film to pin down, seemingly a pastiche of so many different films that it's hard to keep count - post screening my friends and I labelled Blade Runner, Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, The Terminator, Alien, Short Circuit, Rear Window, Total Recall, Vertigo, and several more as obvious influences - and yet one that, despite it's mad sloppy screenplay, proved to be an intoxicating winner. It's an exhausting hoot of a film that shows flutters of such astonishing technical finesse that I couldn't help but admire its chutzpah even when it was flapping about like a fish out of water. I loved this movie, perhaps against my better judgement.

Set primarily in one of those futuristic dystopian cities that became so popular in the aftermath of Ridley Scott's Blade Runner where the skies bleed red from nuclear radiation and the cityscapes are dark masses dotted with neon and fluorescent. Hardware begins with the emergence of Dylan McDermott's Moses out of the desert where he has been scavenging for spare parts. Taking some mysterious, but uber-cool, electronics home to his girlfriend who uses these type of foreign objects in her industrial artworks. They live in a world riddled with dirty violence and people are lining up for voluntary sterilisation to reduce population growth. Naturally, the machine from the desert wakes up from its robotic sleep and begins to wreak havoc in exceedingly violent and explosive ways.

I'd never actually heard of this movie before I saw it on a Halloween night double bill with, what else, Halloween at the Astor Theatre. It shares nothing in common with that 1978 classic, so it was a double bill in horror goodness only, but I'm glad I got the chance to see it and to do so on a big screen. The astonishing editing and production design is best experienced on a cinema screen where they merge to form a dizzying collaboration. As the film continues to go higher and higher with its batshit craziness - culminating perhaps in a truly confounding, eye-popping sequence that takes a bit of visual influence from 2001 and Vertigo - I was continued to grow fonder and fonder. Richard Stanley, working from a screenplay (an admittedly odd, muddy one) by Stanley, Steve MacManus, and Kevin O'Neill, never lets up and isn't afraid to go to some truly unexpected places. The gore, too, which rears its head in the final act is certainly a bright and red in a gleeful fashion.

As a visual feast, it ranks alongside Blade Runner, Dark City and The Matrix as dying worlds on life support. It's visually stunning. The claustrophobic one-set nature is obviously derived from Alien, but Stanley is still able to do some interesting, fresh things with it. I admired the performance of Stacey Travis, more the star of the film than McDermott, and found she was able to make the preposterous sequences glisten with genuine emotion, not to mention blood, sweat and tears. Even when it descends into a grotesque Real Window moment of voyeuristic perversion, she keeps the film from spinning off of its axis, something that Stanley clearly had no interest in.

This hallucinogenic, post-apocalyptic, weird, crazy horror extravaganza was a real treat. Evil robots are always fun, but I don't recall seeing anything this flat out bonkers. A movie without blinkers on in its wide-eyed technology-is-evil-yo attitude and that has the balls to really go to some odd places. I loved it! And who can resist a movie in which Iggy Pop features as a radio DJ? A-

31 Horrors: Chopping Mall (#7)

Wherein I attempt to watch 31 horror films over the course of October. 31 horror films that I have never seen before, from obscure to acclaimed classics. We'll see how well I go in actually finding the time to watch and then write about them in some way.

Dear readers, put on your jelly bracelets, and your cool graffiti coat! We're going to the mall and having fun is what it's all aboot [sic].

You guys, Chopping Mall is so much fun! I loved it. The 1986 robots-go-berserk-in-the-shopping-mall slasher flick is a total hoot and naturally all I'm doing now is listening to Robin Sparkles' "Let's Go to the Mall" on repeat as I google images of the super foxy (and supremely douchey) male cast. The men of 1980s horror flicks don't get enough recognition and I believe it's my (and Jason Adams of My New Plaid Pants, of course) job to rectify that.

"I'm gonna rock your body 'til Canada Day"


There's even a robot!!! Granted, not a robot with homicidal tendancies brought on by a freak thunderstorm after closing time, but a robot nonetheless. I like to imagine the writers of How I Met Your Mother were fans of Chopping Mall (nee Killbots) and wanted to make Sparkles' "minor hit" of 1992 an homage to this wacky flick. If anything, Chopping Mall proves that "Let's Go to the Mall" is a scarily accurate portrayal of '80s teen life. Chopping Mall does everything that Bait 3D didn't do recently and have total whackadoo fun with its thick-as-bricks plot. There's a proposed remake that, like so many "remakes" lately appears to merely be snatching a famous(?) title and rejiggering it with whatever the filmmakers wish. I'll stick with the original (I mean, what crazy way are they going to make mobile phones irrelevant to a new version?) and that episode of The OC where Ryan, Seth, Marissa, and Summer got trapped in the mall that one time.

Totes didn't have to even look up those character names from The OC. And I wonder why I'm single, ya know?

There's little more to Chopping Mall that I've already alluded to. Robots, previously designed to work as security for a modern, new age shopping mall, go haywire and start hunting down the people trapped inside. First the human security guards and then a janitor, followed very quickly by the eight teenage shop employees who were having a party in the furniture store. By "very quickly", I do mean very quickly. By the 35 minute mark it felt like the characters were gearing up for the big climax sequence. It goes by extremely fast, even for a film that's only 77 minutes long.

Jim Wynorski's film - Wynorski, by the way, who is now directing movies like Piranhaconda and spoofs called Cleavagefield - is actually surprisingly brutal. I figured it would be quite tame for some reason, but there are some quite violent deaths. There are electrocutions, throat slashings, laser wounds, explosions, plummeting elevators, head burstings, and even one poor gal getting set on fire! The "final girl" even leaps through a plate glass window at her own accord. The actor that gets her head blown off even gets the hilarious indignity of having her end credits screen grab be, er, well, this:

Are you not amazed?

The robots are quite ugly to look at, sort of with the appearance of a squashed penguin with its duck-bill laser shooter thingamajig and silly cardboard boxy exterior, plus the sound they make rather annoying. The dialogue, however, is thoroughly riotous with such ding dongs as "I guess I'm just not used to being chased around the mall by killer robots", and this delicious exchange between the virginal Kelli Maroney and Tony O'Dell: "Nice shot!" "My dad's a marine." And, really, that's just the beginning of Chopping Mall's, ahem, thrilling madcap fun. Oh, and can I just mention how glad I was my flatmate wasn't home during that pet store sequence? I was literally SCREAMING AND COVERING MY EYES! Neighbours could've heard me, I'm sure.

Of course, it wouldn't be an '80s slasher flick if it wasn't a lil bit of a flasher flick, too! While the hetero dudes in attendance got some pretty ladies to look at, and one - that'd be Barbara Crampton, I believe - that gets all tits outs for the boys kicks, it's the women (and, yes, the gay men) who get the prize picks. Four good looking guys, most of which are in a state of undress at some stage or other, acting mostly like sex-crazed teenage pigs and, ugh, kinda sexy. I have no idea who John Terlesky is, but can his 1986 self do some time travelling to right now and show up on my door step? His character is a total wanky douche, but who cares?





Shameless, I know, but what are you gonna do? Somebody needs to be out there screencapping 1980s horror for the male flesh as well, you know! I'd certainly never say no to Russell Todd either.


Chopping Mall! Your Fly Buys rewards card can't help you here! Can I watch it again now, please? B+

MIFF 2012 Review: Carré Blanc

Carré Blanc

Dir. Jean-Baptiste Léonetti

Country: France

Aus Rating: N/A

Running Time: 80mins

What does one make of Carré Blanc, an altogether confounding debut from director Jean-Baptiste Léonetti? Set in a dystopian future, this sort-of-thriller incorporates elements of experimentation, Greek new wave strangeness, Orwellian dictatorship, and even a penchant for distinctive architecture. Léonetti’s film will be a struggle for some purely due to its severe, barren screenplay and reserved performances. Nevertheless, it works a mesmerising, hypnotic trance that I found rather fascinating. Its oddness has a very rhythmic quality to it that works in harmony with the director’s playful attitudes to imagery.

Read the rest at Trespass Magazine

A Chair for No Seasons

For all of the criticisms that social media - specifically Twitter and Facebook - get for the way they actually make people less social, I really can't agree. I feel they just put a spotlight on the fact that so few people in our day-to-day lives have the same degree of interest in things and that there are actually a whole tonne of people out there who we may not have necessarily met (or will ever get the chance to given some live in such far off places as Guyana and South Africa), but whom we're able to form surprisingly strong bonds with.

Of course, it's also a great way of realising that no matter how niche you think an opinion is, there are always plenty of people out there who hold it too. Take, for instance, the chair from Like Crazy. I had no idea that people hated that god damned piece of shit construction as much as I did, but after mentioning it I got some wonderful reactions like:

"WORST CHAIR EVER"

"I think of that rubbish chair Anton Yelchin made in LIKE CRAZY and I burst out laughing"

"The chair was appalling"

"it actually looks like the chairs we would have in the play area in pre-school. And they were awful."

"How was his furniture business doing so well? He seemed only capable of making the one item."

"So ugly!"

"I just remembered furniture making was a plot point in a film and my heart shrank three sizes"

It's like a whole community of people who thought that damn chair was just the most heinous piece of shit. Of course, it doesn't help that the film it appears in just gets worse and worse every time I think of it. I like that you can see Anton Yelchin's face (presumably from a poster in the same exhibit at the Arclight Theater in Hollywood (an exhibit! featuring THE CHAIR!) hovering about in the top right corner like a ghost, chained to the bloody chair for the rest of his ghostly existence. It's as if he's saying "Why did I dumb Jennifer Lawrence for Felicity freakin' Jones?!?!" Even if death his character can't escape that retched woman and that hideous chair.

Weirdly Weird

This morning I read a nicely put piece on the issue of "weird for weirdness' sake" that argues people who make such complains about certain films are using a film's very unique quality as a scapegoat for their inability to like a film. I've seen films that are weird and liked them, and I've seen films that are weird and disliked them, but while I can sometimes understand a person's misgivings over a film due to some impenetrable oddness, I also don't think it's a filmmaker's responsibility to be coherent when they're not working in a familiar wheelhouse. Personally, I think to say a film by David Lynch is "weird for weirdness' sake" is to, quite frankly, not be paying any attention whatsoever, but I can certainly see where somebody could find his variety of weird cinema unpalatable. There's a big difference between personally not liking it and thinking the director has nothing to say. This all ties nicely together with a double feature that I attended this last past week of Alejandro Jodorowsky films at The Astor Theatre.

I'd never seen any of this famed Mexican director's work before, so the chance to his two most famous titles together on the big screen in 35mm prints was one I wasn't going to pass up (it meant skipping the press screening of Jennifer Westfeldt's Friends with Kids that I'm not terribly upset about). I had heard much about Jodorowsky's famed 1970 cult breakthrough, El Topo, but I know now that one can never know what to expect. If I see any of this man's other work I certainly won't make the mistake of thinking I know what I'm getting myself in for It's history as one of the original "midnight movies" was a definite lure, and in that regard I am certainly glad I got the chance to see it (one can't have an opinion on a film without actually see it, no matter what the internet tells us these days), but I can't say I enjoyed the film too much. Yes, it's quite strange, but it's strangeness isn't particularly interesting or portrayed in any visually arresting manner. The film's second half, with its exploitation of disfigured incest victims featuring quite prominently alongside its heavy religious iconography, proved to be a further tedious excursion into a rather uninteresting world that Jodorowsky had crafted. I'm sure Jodorowsky was going for something, but what that something was remains a mystery to me, hidden by laboured storytelling and an excessive run time.

Technically there's skill there, no doubt. I found particular fascination within the soundtrack that Jodorowsky constantly fills with noise despite the barren landscapes. Whether its an army of clucking chickens, gusty winds, mulling goats and the like, the speakers are certainly working overtime when other aspects are not. I got a kick out of the costume design by Jodorowsky himself that I could see had influenced the likes of Tarsem Singh's The Fall. Sadly, I found the film just never went anywhere potent enough to justify its crude stylistic flourishes and disturbing imagery.


The second feature, The Holy Mountain, on the other hand, was an entirely different experience. Dealing with a lot of the same issues as El Topo with its frequently confronting religious imagery and weird segues, I was instantly taken by it unlike its predecessor. The Holy Mountain was, I was surprised to discover, the next feature of Jodorowsky's career. A surprise because it feels like a rapid maturation and major advancement over the sloppy El Topo, but also because it proved that it wasn't just my distinct lack of pharmaceutical aid during the screening of El Topo that made me not enjoy it. The Holy Mountain is an awe-inspiring step for Jodorowsky and one that left me in a constant state of slack-jawed admiration. With its clean, assured direction, phenomenal art direction (truly some of the best I have ever seen), absurd imagery, bonkers descent into comedic oddity, and endlessly fascinating mythology I was entranced by The Holy Mountain.


I was disturbed, as one should be, by the very real animal cruelty as well as the questionable prepubescent child nudity and irksome representation of gay figures (all of which were also found within El Topo, and I suspect his later works, too), but at least this third feature of his came accompanied with such a strong, stylistic vision that I found it less troublesome. For the first hour, certainly, I just couldn't keep my eyes off of the screen as Jodorowsky threw dazzling image after dazzling image at me. From the opening scene of a robed man performing a religious act upon two women in a sterile white and black room I was hooked. I don't really know what any of it means, but I was fascinated nonetheless. Pockets of people amongst the audience were chuckling away at the odd imagery - the toad city for instance - but I mostly sat there with my serious face on, soaking it all in. This was powerful stuff and I was determined to not let Jodorowsky's obvious nods to El Topo's pot-headed legacy get in the way. Of course, by the time one character started humping a mountainside, followed by what can only be described as "tiger tits", something in my brain snapped. I ended up cackling for several minutes straight and then at frequent intervals thereafter until the ending. Oh, that ending? Yeah. Wow. I can't even, ya know? I don't even want to know what the director was smoking when he planned out The Holy Mountain. Something dangerous, no doubt. It's of little surprise that John Lennon and Yoko Ono helped finance the picture, also.


These two films seem like excellent mirrors to any debate about "weird for weirdness' sake". Both are weird, sure, but I found only The Holy Mountain did it in the context of a film with the gravity and the scope to give the impression of having a deeper meaning. In contrast, El Topo felt like little more than shenanigans. Even if I didn't entirely get what it was all about, it's a film of truly epic visual power - visuals that took my breath away - and one that really can't imagine experiencing on a small screen. Thank god The Astor Theatre (once again), hey?

Review: Iron Sky

Iron Sky

Year: 2012

Country: Finland/Australia/Germany

Aus Rating: M15+

Running Time: 93mins

Never again will you be able to say that nobody ever made a movie about Nazis living on the moon who then return to Earth and joined forces with a Sarah Palin-esque politician before waging intergalactic war. No you certainly cannot because Iron Sky is here and after years of development, crowd-sourced funding, and even filming just up north in Queensland, this comical sci-fi spoof is here on the big screen. How it conjured up a theatrical release I’m not too sure, but there it is in its entire goofy, oddball, space opera glory.

Read the rest at Trespass Magazine

Xanadusiasm

xanadusiasm
[zan-ah-doo-zee-az-uh'm] noun

1. A passion for the 1980 musical fantasy, Xanadu, directed by Robert Greenwald ("My xanadusiasm for Xanadu is unmatched!
2. To be enthusiastic about something of a camp manner ("John had xanadusiasm for the new Cher comeback tour!")
3. A form of religion devoted to worshipping the work of Olivia Newton John and/or Michael Beck ("I practice Xanadusiasm at The Shrine of Olivia!")

Origin:
1570-80; < Late Latin enthūsiasmus < Greek enthousiasmós, equivalent to enthousí ( a ) possession by a god ( énthous, variant of éntheos having a god within, equivalent to en- en-2 + -thous, -theos god-possessing + -ia y 3 ) + -asmos, variant, after vowel stems, of -ismos -ism
1980-2011; < Xanadu < film of greek gods and muses wearing roller skates alongside Gene Kelly Also, the Mongolian word šanadu or Chinese shangdu (chinese:上都; pinyin: Shàngdū)
See also: Xanadusiast (noun) - Someone with xanadusiasm.
Xanadusiastic (adj) - To go about something in a camp manner reflecting the aesthetic of Xanadu

Synonyms:
Burlesqasm

To Mislead, or Not to Mislead: Surviving Georgia Producer Speaks Out

Last week Stale Popcorn broke the story (for once the word "EXCLUSIVE!" could be hailed about a news item I posted) of the Aussie film with the misleading marketing. If you recall, the trailer and poster hailed a four-star quote from "The Guardian", which was actually nothing of the sort. Rather, it was an anonymous user comment on the film's Guardian website that hailed the low budget Australian feature as a film that "....touches the heart and leaves you with a smile", whilst attributing a 4 star rating a whole four months ahead of it's local debut. Well after we wrote about it here, the story caught on with discussions continuing on Twitter, Facebook and websites Crikey and Cinema Quest.

Well, now producer/actor/distributor Spencer McLaren has spoken to Encore Magazine about the issue and... well, take a look. It's a doozy.

When Encore suggested that attributing the quote to a publication such as The Guardian was deceptive to the public, McLaren claimed: “It was not The Guardian, but Guardian.co.uk. But we contacted The Guardian to let them know. I think, what’s occurred, is it’s been accredited wrong. We’ve had different marketing people at different times. Ultimately it’s our fault as producers to cross-reference, that’s where the responsibility lies.”

He also claims that the initial furor (McLaren only cites Luke Buckmaster - what am I? No good? Oh woe is me!) as "some Machiavellian plot to mislead the public" and that “We’ve now got plenty of great reviews. So it’s not like we need it.” It's this latter quote that strikes me as both dismissively insulting, but also incredibly stupid. If they thought they had a great product that was capable of garnering plaudits from critics then why wasn't Surviving Georgia shown to them any earlier than two weeks before release (the earliest Melbourne media screening was held on 29 September). Why weren't the producers and distributors using grass roots techniques to get word of mouth going? Sending screeners to potentially influential critics and writers in order to get words online? I suspect it's because they knew their film wasn't good enough, that's why. These so called "great reviews" amount to some nice comments at Citysearch and this from Buzz Magazine.

Meanwhile, there has been no mention whatsoever of the issue on the film's official Twitter and Facebook pages, but the offending quote has indeed been removed from the official website and replaced with a simple 3-star review from Empire without an attached quote. Lastly, I went to the Yarraville Sun yesterday to see a movie and what should I see hanging up in several locations? The poster featuring the same four-star review discussed.

Hmmm.

Surviving Georgia and the Case of the Four-Star Review that Never Was

It seems that once a month an Australian film comes along that goes so under the radar that you'd be forgiven for thinking it doesn't really exist without seeing it with your own eyes. I had heard about the production of Surviving Georgia, the first film by Sandra Sciberras since the small, but nice, Caterpillar Wish in 2006, but that was so long ago that I was instantly surprised to see it pop up on the local release schedule for next week (13 October). I haven't had the chance to see Surviving Georgia as I was busy at the time of the press screening, but those who have inform us that, well, it's not very good. Hardly surprising, but you never fully hope for a bad movie so it's a shame when one just lands with a thud. Especially when it features a cast like Pia Miranda, Caroline O'Connor and Shane Jacobson.

Still, get a release it shall (into 8 cinemas, more than some other more acclaimed films) and good on them for doing so. Just getting a film completed and out there is a win in this day and age, and if the cinematic release acts as nothing more than a token gesture before DVD (a much more forgiving arena for Australian films, I assume) then so be it. The film is being distributed, I believe, by the co-director (Kate Whitbread) and co-star/co-producer (Spencer McLaren), although I may be wrong on that detail, and a recently released trailer didn't exactly set the world on fire - two unrelated Twitter followers labelled it "abominable" within minutes of each other. Take a look for yourself and think "would I rather see this or A Heartbeat Away?" Hmmm, that's a tough one!


So far, so ordinary. It may look bad, but not offensive and barely worth a second glance. Sad, but true. Nevertheless, something about this trailer piqued my curiosity at the time (I saw it play before The Help and promptly forgot all about it), but it wasn't until I received an email from a "Jarrod Sturneiks" just yesterday that it really clicked. In between the many moments of inept acting displayed by star Holly Valance ("you've got to be bloody kidding me" is a snorter, that's for sure!), the dunderheaded title cards, grating budget music choices and the entire film being laid out in front of us, there is a moment of unexpected curiosity when a four star review from The Guardian is referenced.

Considering even Australian critics hadn't had much of an opportunity to see Surviving Georgia at the time, it was curious that this tiny Australian film starring Holly Valance (of all people) managed to secure a 4-star quote from a well-known source such as The Guardian website. Alas, what they have done is in fact used a user review posted by somebody on the film's default Guardian page. Looking at the website in question and it becomes quite clear, rather quickly, that this review by "Lutherfilm" is not an official review by any means and that the producers have misrepresented The Guardian as somehow endorsing Surviving Georgia.

How do they get away with it? The same star rating and quote is featured on the poster, too. One must assume that they figured their film is so small that nobody would really notice and that by not including the actual name of the person who wrote "...touches your heart and leaves you with a smile" they can feasibly get away with it. But, then again, that's like saying CNN endorses radical alternative therapies simply because they feature an interview with somebody who does. Who on Earth knows who this "Lutherfilm" person is, anyway. The comment was posted way back on 18 May, which is coincidental since the film's original release date, according to IMDb, was 29 May. This person's profile features no other activity; they may as well be a stock standard Anonymous and be done with it. There's even a typo in there to look unofficial.

It almost feels like I'm criticising a puppy for peeing on the carpet, but this sort of blatant false advertising does nobody any favours. Not the Surviving Georgia filmmakers, nor any other filmmakers who work hard and get their film out there just to see it fail. Australian films are currently doing quite well at the box office, what with Red Dog and The Eye of the Storm, but this much smaller film obviously didn't have the resources at their disposal, which is hardly their fault. Nevertheless, so much Australian film marketing is grass roots, especially for a film like this, and perhaps I was just looking in the wrong place, but I never heard a peep out of this film trying to get itself out there and raising its profile. If they thought slapping a fake quote on their dodgy trailer was going to cure their film's ills then they were sorely mistaken. If they don't even trust their own product then why should we? I like to try and see as many local films as possible, but for Surviving Georgia I'll make an exception. This one I'll skip.

From Ghana to Mexico: Movie Art from Around the World

Okay, so I'm only looking at Mexico and Ghana, but so what of it? The internet is there for a reason. If you wanna look at posters from Bolivia I am sure there's a place to do it. Or maybe not. Does anyone know? Now that I've broached the idea of it, I am kinda intrigued by how Bolivia would sell The Help.

I've mentioned many times that I don't have the same high opinion of the Czech and Polish poster designs that most of the internet does. For every great one like The Birds or Blue Velvet there is another that just gives me a headache. I am of the staunch opinion that a film poster should first and foremost be selling a film, and not be used as some artists canvas to throw a bunch of non sequitur images around and say "duh! it's a poster for Sparticus!" Having come across these glorious pieces of imagery from Mexico (classy, glamourous, old-school divinity) and Ghana (ridiculous, hand-painted, bonkers) I felt the need to share.

Beginning with Mexico, 50 Watts gave us the viewing pleasure of this gorgeous works of key art from the 1940s and 1950s (taken from this far more extensive collection of Mexican and Cuban artwork). They feature vivid strikes of colour amidst delicate plays of light, like that of El Tren Expreso (1955). Striking bold imagery like the one found in Alfredo Crevenna's Muchachas de Uniforme (1951) and Emilio Fernández's La Red (Rosanna, 1953) are so in your face and provocative that they scream for audiences to pay attention. Casa de Perdicion (House of Perdition, 1956), up top, of a woman wearing a transparent gown covered in red chilies is both a seductive tease and a flashy deceleration of intention. Others, such as the Alberto Gout's La Sospechosa (1955), owe obvious debts to Hitchcock and film-noir.


Do check out the rest, they're fabulous.

Fabulous may be a word to also describe the posters from Ghana, although I think it's connotations are a bit different. I can't say these posters are "good", but they sure are entertaining to look at! Awesome Robo collated 70 of them and they are a hoot to scan through. My personal favourites are the one for Don E. FauntLeRoy's (whatta name!) Anaconda 3: Offspring featuring a snake that breathes fire; James D.R. Hickox's Children of the Corn III: Urban Harvest that brings all new meaning to the idea of giant floating head posters; Lewis Teague's Cujo that somehow transforms Dee Wallace into a geisha and Cujo himself for a blood-splattered bloodhound canine (so, apt); Rob Bowman's Elektra that somehow transforms Jennifer Garner in Michael Myers; John Woo's Mission Impossible 2 that somehow transforms Tom Cruise into Michael Myers; Ronny Yu's Freddy vs Jason that somehow transforms Freddy Kruger into a who knows what!



I think my favourite of all, however, is the one for Steve Beck's Ghost Ship, which just throws about a bunch of severed body parts in front of an ocean liner. Amazing.


They're all rather hilarious so do check them out. Do you have a favourite?