From Beyond 1986 Movie Review

Macabre 80s Cult Campy Horror!

In 1986, the famed team of Stuart Gordon and Brian Yuzna that brought the 1985 Horror hit ”Re-Animator” returned for another bizarre sci-fi horror shocker, ”From Beyond” based on one more H.P. Lovecraft story and starring Jeffrey Combs again. 

This one is about a Resonator, a futuristic machine that's a two-way window to the soul and allows you to see entities from another dimension;  but they can see you too, and they're hungry unleashing all manner of evil creatures and enabling individuals to indulge their most sinister desires and depraved fantasies. This film lacked some of the ghoulish original humor of Re-Animator, but its script is better thought-out, and there are lots of scary, campy moments and spectacularly gruesome special effects.

23 years later, an indie filmmaker Blair Erickson released ”Banshee Chapter” in 2013 starring Ted Levine and Katia Winter, rebooting the original story. Both movies are a good quarantine watch but ”From Beyond” takes the prize for being more interesting and more satisfying. A cult classic of menacing design and blood-curdling execution, From Beyond is a perverse head-trip of horror.

Café Flesh (1982)

X rated Sci-Fi hardcore of the retro kind

"So close you can almost feel", a porn movie about porn movies, in a thematic sort of way. The director claims in an interview that he originally intended this to be more of a softcore sci-fi piece, but the only backer he could find for it was a hardcore financier so he slipped in the insertions and money shots to make his investors happy. 

Cafe Flesh even had a brief theatrical run in an R-rated version with all the fun stuff cut out because believe me, minus the hardcore sex, there is a cerebral nice sci-fi heart hiding beneath in this adult comedy. Cafe Flesh gives us a post-nuclear holocaust world hobbled with radioactive fallout where 99 percent of the population has been rendered "sex-negative" (i.e) incapable of achieving orgasm and suffering nausea at the touch of another. The sex-negatives, men and women alike, become sex addicts as they watch "sex-positives" - those whose potencies have been left unscathed - perform sex acts at racy nightclubs such as Cafe Flesh. In doing this they hope to fulfill the lust that war has made insatiable. 

The setup is perfect for offering the conventions that are the skin flick's stock-in-trade: a fantasy-world where nothing except sex is important, and where women are as obsessed with watching people screw as men are. (Cafe Flesh's audience I guess is roughly 50/50 men and women, which is generally not the case with your average real-life porno theater.) But unlike most adult movies, Cafe Flesh is aware of these conventions and reflects them back at you. 

During the sex scenes the audience's faces become blank, pained, fixated stares (and if you quickly grab a mirror you might catch yourself with the same expression). Cafe Flesh's emcee, Max Melodramatic, provides intermittent commentary explaining the audience's pain. It has to do with dwelling on a need you can't fulfill, trying to think about it until you make it happen. It's the porn-movie equivalent of the TV spots that tell you to stop sitting around watching TV. You'd be better off getting off your ass, the movie seems to scold, and trying to find a date for Saturday. But since you can't always do what's best for you it's probably okay to watch this movie once -- if you take the phone off the hook and stop going to work, you might want to entertain the possibility that you have a problem. 

The Love Captive (1969)

Bewildering soft-core weirdness from the 60s

"This painting is a bit obscure in meaning; it was painted by a madman a week before he died." so say Sybil, the fugitive on the run.. A conscious evocation of Virginia Woolf's To The Lighthouse, The Love Captive, is a 60s pioneering stream-of-consciousness sexual horror narrative in which a painting figures prominently as a metonymic representation of the text's overarching structure. This insightful comparison (if I do say so myself) only collapses once you realize that Virginia Woolf was one of the great writers of the twentieth century, whereas the makers of The Love Captive were probably drugged-out, illiterate maniacs. 

A blonde woman steps out of a subway stop and strolls down Greenwich Village while a narrator monitors her, making sure not to help us at all by confining his observations to the visually obvious -- "she's evidently a stranger to these parts," he informs us. "With a [hand]bag like that, she could be a model, or an actress." Yeah. Thanks. 

The woman, Jane, checks into a hotel and as the desk clerk moves his lips to the accompaniment of silence, we realize that the film has no synchronous soundtrack. Instead, director Larry Crane has tried to dub the film in post-production, and poorly -- spoken lines often follow lip movements by several seconds, or emerge magically from closed mouths. 

Jane takes a guided tour of a museum of the macabre next to the hotel, and gets locked in. She appears to have done this intentionally. A vampire rises out of something, a hunchback shambles around for a while, and another vampire (indicated by the presence of makeshift fangs) is remarkably sanguine while a slobbery werewolf kind-of drools on her. Piercing screams surge from the soundtrack, but the vampire actually seems to be suppressing laughter. She and two other gals bob up and down with the werewolf for about five minutes and forty-five seconds while bongos play. Maybe they're supposed to be phantasms who haunt the museum, but it's hard to say for sure. Jane watches patiently, with no appreciable reaction. 

Back at the hotel (the next day, the previous night, ten years later?), the desk clerk strolls in and casually undresses Jane, and the two make out while the narrator expresses his disapproval. Meanwhile Gail, another tenant, straps on a dildo alone in her room. Cops next door are pursuing a fugitive, Sybil, and play a series of tape-recorded accusations ("We know who you are, girly") through speakers pressed against the hotel-room wall. But they don't know which is Sybil's room and press the speaker to Gail's wall by mistake. Gail hears the disembodied voice, freaks out, and flees to Jane's room. Jane and Gail make out. This time, however, the narrator doesn't complain. 

The sinister Sybil, as close to an antagonist as a film without a clear conflict can come, is unperturbed by the accusatory voices. She seduces the owner of the museum, then takes over the establishment after convincing him to go on a long vacation. Her guided tours are more suffused with sex and violence than the museum owner's had been, and she figures out how to make a little money on the side by selling Gail into prostitution. The cops come back and play the tape recording some more, once again using the wrong wall. This puts Jane into a confessional mood and she opens her closet door to reveal that she's been keeping the cowed hotel clerk in shackles as a "love captive." Once more the narrator disapproves. Where would we be without his moral guidance, I wonder? Trying to summarize this "movie" is like trying to tell somebody about a dream you've had. Its narrative is largely incoherent, and the only way to understand it at all is as the cinematic equivalent of a psycho-sexual rant. Then it starts to adopt a sort of deviant logic: the clumsy voice-overs throughout make the characters' conversations almost indiscernible from internal monologue, as though they were communicating by telepathy. The cops, with their motiveless surveillance and their accusatory tape recorder, embody a sort of hallucinatory paranoid delusion. In no way, though, is the film about these things; it's more accurate to say that the film is affected by them, that it is, on some level, an acting out of hallucinatory and delusional fantasy. 

When Gail straps on the dildo while evaluating her reflection, Freud's primal scene and Lacan's mirror phase simultaneously spring to mind: "Aw, that should do it," she says, "I'd fool my own mother." She really wouldn't, of course - though she has this funny thing stuffed into her underwear she's still every inch a woman. Perhaps in her own mind she appears literally male, and this is Lacan in its essence: our sense of identity is troubled from the outset, presenting us with a self-image immediately distorted by cathexis and psycho-sexual illusion. Strange enough. Naturally Larry Crane manages to make it still stranger, introducing this fascinatingly perverse notion of fooling one's mother by wearing a prosthetic phallus. Fool her in which sense, Mr. Crane: by preventing her from recognizing you, or by using it and making her believe the phallus is the real thing? 

This is one of many scenes that raise the question whether Larry has packed enough sandwiches for his picnic. It's probably relevant that the narrator never ponders the reason behind Gail's autoerotics, instead praising her for how well she's managed to make herself look like a man. I reach for the rewind button here, figuring I must have missed the scene that explained why Gail's doing this in the first place. But it's never explained, just as it's never explained why the two cops broadcast recorded accusations instead of eavesdropping, or why Jane imprisons the hotel clerk. They are simply to be taken on faith, just as the schizophrenic never feels it necessary to clarify the mechanisms by which he has mysteriously become Lyndon Johnson, or reveal who paid to launch the satellite that is now beaming microwaves into his brain. These events exist not to forward a plot or to get at any character's interior life* but to construct disconnected images. In other words, they are fantasies apparently intended to assuage the sting of some psychological pain, since obscured by the passage of time and by the sufferer's lack of insight. 

This person suffering this pain is probably not Gail but the narrator - and probably, by extension, Larry Crane. Among those with severe personality disorders Crane is at least fortunate enough to be able to turn his image formations into feature films, however shoddily crafted. Another of his works - on my "to-see" list, as soon as I recover from this one - is instructively titled All Women Are Bad. Poorly sublimated much? 

And yet for all The Love Captive's unembarrassed weirdness, it is most entertaining and informative (all the time despite itself) when you realize that this is, after all, a soft-core porno movie from the late 60s. This coarse act of genre classification serves to answer some questions, though maybe not others: why does Gail get mostly naked and strap on a dildo? Why does a werewolf appear from out of nowhere and molest a vampire, who also appears from out of nowhere? What's with all that languid bobbing up and down, and who's playing those bongos? 

Well, the most obvious answer is that it's all an excuse to show nude or semi-nude women. And though that interpretation encourages a dismissive response to more interesting interpretations of The Love Captive, it also helps illuminate a notion that's lost in better-made adult films. Whatever else these movies are about, they are also about fantasy, and its oft-forgotten connection with confusion and pain. Remember that the next time you check out some flick such as White Bun-Busters or Gang-Bang Girls . They lie. At least The Love Captive gives it to you straight. M.W

Beavis and Butt-Head Do America (1996)

Great stupid fun.. B & B super style!

This movie didn’t suck. It ruled! When I went to see Beavis and Butt-head Do America, it didn’t immediately occur to me how long it had been since I’d seen a film I could call truly remarkable. The dream sequence which opens the movie has the world’s most famous dilholes as modern-day King Kongs, stomping through a city and wreaking king-size havoc. They swat planes, crush cars, and reach at girls through broken skyscrapers, and it was hard not to read this gleeful gigantism as a metaphor for their own success. 

Who would have thought, five years ago, that one of the surprise Christmas-season movie hits would be an almost incompetently animated feature about two chronic masturbators who are unwittingly guarding a secret weapon? Beavis and Butt-head creator Mike Judge stays true to the tone of his MTV series by piling on one ridiculous episode after another and adding a leitmotif of enthusiastic anal-cavity searches, and the movie is a ride worth taking. 

Beavis and Butt-head fall asleep on the sofa and awake to find that their television has been stolen. Searching for the cathode rays they need to sustain them, they stumble into a room in a cheap motel, where they meet a very drunk and dangerous redneck who offers them money to go to Las Vegas and "do" his wife. Beavis and Butt-head can’t believe their luck: They’re gonna score! And they’re even going to get paid for it! Thus ensues a round-trip cross-country odyssey that includes peyote, guns, nuns, the duo's long-lost fathers (fathers and sons remain oblivious to their relationship), and a cameo appearance by a cartoon Bill Clinton. Even Easy Rider didn’t offer such a smorgasbord of delights. It is very easy to like this movie.

The thing that's always fascinated me about the legions of Beavis and Butt-head fans is how they seem to feel like they have to justify it. "Hey, I went to school with people like that," they will say, defensively with an undercurrent of apology, as if acknowledging a visible birthmark. I've often tried to figure out what's implied by that statement and its remarkably few variations. 

We don't necessarily watch programs which recall for us the caste system of our youth, or else, for instance, My So-Called Life would never have lacked for viewers. We don't necessarily watch what assures us of our superiority to the life forms onscreen. You went to school with people like what? People without ambition, shame, or the communication skills necessary for successful negotiation outside a small homogeneous circle. (Huh huh huh – I said "homo.") People who make a career out of sitting in the back row of the classroom, willfully not learning anything. People left to their own insufficient devices, so much the objects of derision that this defines their social existence. 

If you didn't know I was talking about Beavis and Butt-head, would you still be settling back in anticipation of a punchline here? And, at the risk of being accused of various hypersensitivities and/or sympathies, would the moronic duo be as funny if they weren't middle-America white boys? My own theory is that B & B creator Mike Judge has tapped into the zeitgeist (and don't tell me that the trend is played out; I was in the line that snaked around the corner of the theater, and I've seen the grosses) by discovering a strain of humor just short of real horror. Because at face value, Beavis and Butt-head are castaways, doomed to a life at the helm of the deep fryer. I don't want to lose sight of the discontinuity between sociology and entertainment.

And I'll be the first to admit it, Beavis and Butt-head are really, really funny. This, I think, was Judge's intention, back in the days of animation-festival shorts featuring the boys – the I-can't-believe-my-reaction reaction. "Frog Baseball" hits the same chord as does the scene in Goodfellas where Joe Pesci shoots the kid in the foot during a card game for not bringing his drinks fast enough. It can be exhilarating to watch something so gross, or so violent, because it confirms our collective address not in the same neighborhood as such acts as these. I bet you didn't go to school with guys like Beavis and Butt-head. The ones you're thinking of as cartoonish hammerheads nevertheless had some level of self-awareness, and they either knew exactly what their place was in the pecking order (and I bet they started working out) or bamboozled themselves into thinking that the idea of a pecking order was society’s malicious joke (and I bet they got knives, or had restraining orders slapped on them). Or, more recently, they made the decision to embrace Beavisness and become louts on purpose, because Fools have a slight handicap in the social game and can at least rise above the bottom. Have some self-awareness yourself, and think about it for just a moment: Beavis and Butt-head have crossed the line, and they are cartoons of cartoons.

It was MTV that brought Judge's rude conception to its apotheosis. On one early episode of B & B, one of the boys says, "Man, the last eleven videos have sucked. Maybe the next one will be better." After the initial novelty of MTV wore off – and what with the game shows and gimmicks and all, this probably took a lot longer than it should have – that attitude is what we were left with. When Beavis and Butt-head assumed their places on their sofa in front of their crappy TV set, it was like the royal wedding of ennui and anomie. I can attest that the appeal is hard to resist. 

I used to live in a house full of marginally employed men in their early twenties, and B & B with Olde E was the highlight of the day. Someone would go from bedroom to bedroom knocking on the doors and saying, "Time for church!" Bad day on the job? Bad day not having a job? Feeling like a loser? Don't worry, Beavis and Butt-head will never make you feel worse. Because Mike Judge knows that his program is a spectacle but the spectacles themselves are blissfully unaware, you can laugh at and laugh with at the same time – in this sense the program is one smart product. 

James Wolcott wrote in The New Yorker that after watching many hours of Beavis and Butt-head in order to write an article on the series, it was weird to see videos without the yellow B & B logo in the corner, as if it were the series that identified the network instead of the other way around. The increasing tendencies toward the hormonal and the ironic (Remember J.J. Jackson? Martha Quinn?) in MTV's staff and programming would suggest that the network has embraced the laugh-at/laugh-with aesthetic. In this sense the patients are running the asylum. Beavis and Butt-head engender a sense of anarchy and liberation which is missing from most of what we can see on television – what's not to like?

I know: the movie, the movie. We are here today not to explicate Beavis and Butt-head but to praise them. You have to accustom your eyes and your brain to the low production values onscreen without the respite of videos, but Judge keeps the action moving briskly, and there are pseudo-video segments such as Beavis and Butt-head's dance-floor antics in Las Vegas, Mr. Van Driesen's hilariously, unconscionably P.C. "Ode to a Lesbian Seagull" (sung by Tom Jones), and, best of all, the Starsky-and-Hutch-style opening credits. Everything is over the top except for our two stars, who manage to stay reassuringly in the gutter. It's great stupid fun, and we are all invited to be in on its central joke. Which is, of course, that the two biggest screw-ups on the planet save all the rest of us and are acclaimed as quick-thinking, selfless heroes. Beavis and Butt-head snicker, we chuckle, and Mike Judge laughs all the way to the bank. What a country! A.G

Hairspray (1988)

The most accessible movie John Waters ever made!

Cult filmmaker John Waters makes a cameo appearance in Hairspray and you would ask why not? Unlike his usual X rated films that were the bane of the censors, Hairspray is so clinically safe, even a grandmother could have appeared in it. Even Sonny Bono could (and does). Even the 300-pound transvestite Divine...but don't worry, Waters makes a PG-13 film here, certainly a characteristic departure from his many past efforts, one of which was famously filmed in "Odorama” which could only be truly appreciated with the aid of a scratch-and-sniff card. 

Divine made five other films with his high-school friend John Waters: Mondo Trasho (1969), Multiple Maniacs (1971), Pink Flamingos (1973), Female Trouble (1974), and Polyester (1981) but this much deserved and critically acclaimed breakthrough comedy sadly contains Divine's last performance. He died on March 7, 1988 just 3 weeks after this movie's release. 

Hairspray was the last film for Divine (real name: Harris Glenn Milstead), who stars as a lovable mom whose daughter, the ebullient Ricki Lake, lands a spot as a dancer on the local “Corny Collins Show" in early '60s Baltimore. Waters evidently has a special reverence for his hometown, and in the early '60s, Baltimore was not only popular for its dance obsession but also unmistakably a place where a girl's popularity was directly proportional to the height of her bouffant hairdo. This bright, bouncy early '60s look at dance crazes, racial tensions and integrationist sympathies is a pure delight, from Ricki Lake's memorable debut performance as a chubby teen who breaks all the boundaries, to Divine as her surly but sweet mom. 

Besides the never disappointing Divine, Ricki Lake is a stand out. Waters casts the hefty teen as Tracy Turnblad, the rotund daughter of the even more rotund Divine. She is a nonconforming 60s teen with an idiosyncratic attitude who impulsively wants to compete in a dance show. It's not so much the dance as the attitude and it shows when she’s about doing the Madison, a dance step that eventually wins her a coveted job as a dancer on the "Corny Col¬lins Show". Apart from the lead two, watch out for the strong supporting cast including Pia Zadora, Jerry Stiller (as Divine's husband), and Debbie Harry. 

Hairspray was a moderate success on release and a dramatic departure of Waters’ usual style. However, it is now considered both a sleeper hit on video and an undeniable John Waters cult classic even fetching Waters’ a Grand Jury prize at Sundance and Empire magazine calling it one of the 500 greatest movies of all time. Still, if the acting of Divine and Ricki lake doesn't impress you; the music, songs, candy colors and dances are all heaven and make it a must watch. A true John Waters treat like no other.

Note – If you like Divine as I do, you must watch Lust In The Dust (1984), a freakish western satire directed by Paul (Eating Raoul) Bartel, and Trouble in Mind (1985), where Divine actually plays a guy, alongside Kris Kristofferson, Genevieve Bujold, and Keith Carradine. Ricki Lake fans should checkout Cookie, directed by Susan Seidelman and co-starring Emily Lloyd and Peter Falk, Working Girl with Harrison Ford, and german director Uli Edel's Last Exit to Brooklyn co starring Jennifer Jason Leigh.

Witchboard (1986)

Cheesy demonic 80s horror with freudian undertones 

You'd better know this typical horror slasher was made in the 80s by the Night of the Demons Director Kevin S. Tenney and has a cult following among 80s Horror fans. This review however is different - it talks a lot about the rather stupid plot, has plenty of spoilers  and a rather unusual Freudian commentary that's either gonna amuse or irritate you. 

Ok, so here it goes. Our Heroine Linda (the Whitesnake videos babe Tawny Kitaen), who has enormous hair, is caught in a love triangle between her current boyfriend Jim (Todd Allen) who looks a little like Dennis Quaid and ex-beau Brandon (Stephen Nichols), a sensitive 80s man who believes in spirits, cries a lot, and wears his shirts unbuttoned to the navel. 

One day, Brandon breaks out a ouija board at a party to converse with the departed, but the boorish Jim makes sarcastic comments about it until nobody can tolerate him. Jim considers becoming a believer when an aggravated spirit drops a slab of drywall on his Eddie-Van-Halen-alike construction worker buddy, but when his girlfriend takes to swearing he really starts to wonder what the fuck is going on. Brandon thinks the spirit is that of a ten-year-old boy named David but later on it appears David's time-sharing the ouija board with Malfeitor, a mass murderer. This madman is using Linda as a "portal." Linda becomes addicted to the ouija board and ends up succumbing to "progressive entrapment" she quits going to school and neglects her personal hygiene. 

Meanwhile, an irritating psychic is skewered on a sundial. Jim and Brandon are struck with barrels and fall into a lake. Linda locks herself in a room and sways back and forth violently. Finally Jim decides he's had enough of this and corners the possessed Linda. They fight for a while until a detective who always wanted to be a magician comes in wielding a gun and is promptly killed. Then it turns out Jim, not Linda, is the "portal" - unless Malfeitor is lying  so Jim shoots the ouija board and this fixes the problem. 

Okay, so the ouija board is the portal. Wait, who's the portal again? So the movie's a tad confusing, but it's good b-movie fun. There's a nice meta-fictive moment when Jim - exasperated with Brandon's don't-you-think-I-know-how-crazy-this-sounds insistence that Linda's on the road to demonic possession - says sarcastically, "so what you're telling me is that I'm married to Linda Blair". But it seems to me equal parts slasher movie and possession story since the offending entity here is a mad killer and not a demon of some sort. It's even a Reefer Madness-type angle, since much of the film is clumsily concerned with the pitfalls of obsessiveness and addiction. 

One can also argue that Jim's emotional coldness is "closed" and that Linda's excessive warmth and compassion is "open," and through the ordeal they endure they are, respectively, "opened up" and "closed off" to a "compromise point" - Jim becomes more sensitive, Linda more assertive although you can make a sound argument that Witchboard's writing is a little too scattered to convey this point seamlessly. Linda might be "open" but in a more Freudian sense she's pretty "closed" - chaste to a fault, she starts the movie in virginal white, refuses to have sex with Jim when he pisses her off, and doesn't cuss. Maybe this is because Witchboard combines the slasher and occult/possession stories. 

In slashers, the Final Girl is "closed" (chaste, rational, observant, proactive rather than reactive), which enables her to avoid being "penetrated" (i.e., punctured) by the killer. In possession stories, the possessee tends to be more "open" (intuitive, in tune with the spiritual realm, empathic, what have you), which makes her more vulnerable to other-worldly "penetration" (i.e., possession) and makes sure there's a story to be told. Although Jim is pretty clearly "opened," then, what Linda represents is far less clear since she has to bear the contradiction when the movie chooses to combine two horror sub-genres that are largely at odds with one another. 

Seeing is believing this classic horror 80s gem. Watch it and let us know what you think.

Human Traffic (1999)

A Vivid Slice of 90s UK Club Culture

Made in the vein of Acid House (1998) and Go (1999) Human Traffic garnered a fair load of both critical and negative reviews and media hype when it was released. Considered a Cult movie now, some say it is the only british film that truly captures the nineties, the clubbing era of the UK 90s in particular, others will object to it's easy attitude to drugs and its frank depiction of youth lifestyle.

Human Traffic is not set in Manchester or London, but rather unglamourous Cardiff representing Anytown, UK. Towards the end, we see shots of the city that look like the world's most boring postcards, partly explaining why the youth turns to the 48 hour thrills. Some of the strong Welsh accents are hard to understand, so fortunately the main characters are from elsewhere: London, Liverpool, Ireland for example. 

The plot isn't too complicated - the characters are introduced, then on Friday night they go to the pub, then a night club, followed by a party. They get high and come down. What is interesting is how they reveal their insecurities to each other. There's Jip, who works in a clothing store, and has a prostitute for a mother. He suffers from impotence. Koop works in a record shop, and is insanely jealous of his girlfriend Nina having contact with other men. His father is in a mental hospital. His girlfriend works in a fast food store with a lecherous manager. The other main female character Lulu, is a student with a history of attracting the worst boyfriends. Then there is Moff (Danny Dyer in perhaps his best performance) who supplies the others with MDMA. His father is a police superintendent. 

This was Justin Kerrigan - the Welsh filmmaker's first full-length movie. It appears he was influenced by artsie directors like Woody Allen, Hal Hartley, Martin Scorsese and Kevin Smith though there is also a Tarantino like scene where Star Wars is analysed in the kitchen. Despite all that it is still a quintessential British youth movie of the 90s and a must for any serious 90s UK cinema cinephile.

A special mention about the soundtrack! Even if you don't end up liking this film, your sure gonna love the soundtrack. There's loads of 90s music from a wide ensemble that includes Underworld, Primal Scream, Orbital, Fatboy Slim, CJ Bolland, Armand van Helden, Carl Cox, Felix Da Housecat, Ferry Corsten and many more.

The Return of the Blog

Will be back! 

The Websnacker is out on a unconference at a beautiful tropical island deep in the Andaman sea, disconnected from the wired world and to a large extent, human civilization. Even this is an automated scheduled post. Like the iconic Terminator catchphrase, this blog will be back, very shortly! Trust the Websnacker!

Natural Born Killers (1994) - Original Soundtrack

A Defining Movie Soundtrack from the 90's 

Film maker Oliver Stone couldn't have picked a better soundtrack producer for his 1994 ultra-violent cult movie "Natural Born Killers" starring Woody Harrelson, Juliette Lewis, Rodney Dangerfield, Robert Downey, Jr., Tom Sizemore, and Tommy Lee Jones than Nine Inch Nails' Trent Reznor. Reznor, the leader of Nine Inch Nails, was hired to sort through the more than 70 songs used in the film to create this a one of a kind soundtrack that would complement the controversial storyline incidentally based on a screenplay by Quentin Tarantino.

The final product is one of the more eclectic soundtrack compilations ever assembled. In addition to the 27 songs which appear on the disc, snippets of dialogue from 27 different characters in the film can be also heard. How many other discs could feature greats like Patsy Cline, Peter Gabriel, Leonard Cohen, and Bob Dylan with the likes of Rage Against the Machine, Marilyn Manson, Jane's Addiction and Dr. Dre? Fans of every type of music will find something they like on this soundtrack. 

The disc opens with Cohen's "The Miracle" and ends with Tha Dogg Pound's "What Would U Do?" In between, it's a ride through the vibrant landscape of music past and present. Nine Inch Nails is featured on three of the disc's tracks. Two of them, "Burn" and "A Warm Place," are great tracks. There is also a remix of "Something I Can Never Have" from the band's debut album. The new mix of this song includes sound bites by some of the characters in the film, and the dialogue adds to the dark mood of the song. Reznor also remixes the Jane's Addiction song "Ted, Just Admit It." The remix, titled "Sex is Violent," features an interesting section of Diamanda Galas' "I Put a Spell On You." Similarly, the Peter Gabriel track "Taboo" is an exotic affair featuring support for Pakistani Sufi Legend Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan.

While some soundtracks are nothing but boxed collections of the songs you hear in the film, this one stands apart because it captures the tone of the film itself and the music of those days. Although this album never sold as many copies as the likes of other 90 hit soundtracks, say "Forrest Gump" or "Bodyguard" soundtracks, it is more adventurous and creative than either of those. Even after 20 years, there is yet to release an album of such vivid contradictions and extreme variety blended in one soundtrack. Perhaps, with the "Natural Born Killers" soundtrack, Trent Reznor wanted to set the standard by which other future soundtracks would be judged. A challenge that is still to be bettered!

Gorillaz - Gorillaz (2001)

Truly (indeed) One of the Albums You Must Hear Before You Die

According to their original press info, it read something on these lines "Gorillaz is a new band consisting of Murdoc (“a snaggle-toothed Svengali”), 2D (“a sweetheart with a blank sheet of paper where his mind should be”), Russel (“a hip-hop hard man from the US of A”) and Noodle (“a 10-year-old Asian axe princess”). This press kit along with their debut self titled album Gorillaz (2001) contained a publicity photo, but it was just a cartoon drawing of the so called band members.

In reality, this alternative trip hop virtual band (if you still don't know) was/is a side project from English Alternative Britpop band Blur’s frontman Damon Albarn. Joining Albarn were comic book artist Jamie Hewlett (Tank Girl) , Miho Hatori (of the Shibuya-kei, indie rock Japanese band Cibo Matto),  rapper Del Tha Funky Homosapien, TinaWeymouth (of Talking Heads and the Tom Tom Club), and acclaimed hip hop producer Daniel M. Nakamura better known as Dan the Automator (the man behind Dr. Octagon and Deltron 3030). This diverse group of musicians and artists hid behind the Gorillaz name and joined forces to make one of the 2001’s most interesting debut side projects that went to sell over ten million copies worldwide and earning them an entry in the Guinness Book of World Records as the Most Successful Virtual Band ever.

Their first single, the global super hit “Clint Eastwood” has to be one of the coolest songs that was released that year. In fact, Rolling Stone magazine still considers it one of the 100 best songs of the 2000s. This great track features a laid-back, electronic reggae-inspired piano-and-bass dub loop, Albarn’s sleepy vocals, and some colorful rapping from Del Tha Funky Homosapien complemented by Hewlett’s wonderful (and hugely popular) animated music video. Another highlight of this album is the smooth “Tomorrow Comes Today”, a sly track that combines hip-hop drums with an easy-going harmonica loop.

Not all of the songs on “Gorillaz” are as laid-back as these two singles (“Punk”, for example, is like a long-lost classic), but the overall vibe here is pretty mellow. Albarn handles the mellow angle pretty well, primarily because his British drawl makes him sound disinterested and detached even when he tries to sound aggressive.

Sadly, like most side projects and multi-artist collaborations, this one also suffers from several lackluster tracks and a few style combinations that just don’t work. Of the 15 tracks here (17 if you count the “hidden” remixes”) only a handful are worth repeated listens. As much filler as there is, though, the stronger tracks like their third single "Rock the house" make up for the weaker ones. Nonetheless, as a album listed in the book "1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die", this album is a must for every audiophile if not a regular music fan!

Film Score of the Month - Alien (1979) Intrada Edition

JohnnyTwoToes revisits the masterpiece from the late Jerry Goldsmith 

When Alien first came out in 1979, it redefined the science fiction/horror genre of film making. Ridley Scott had made a relatively low budget film but one that was simply terrifying. Even today, after I have watched it numerous times, it still scares the crap out of me, part of the reason is the direction and the stellar cinematography. Knowing where to place the cameras and how a scene flows and very few films have gotten in right the way Ridley Scott has. You never really see the Alien completely and Scott is smart to let people's imagination do the terrifying. 

In the first 45 minutes of the film virtually nothing happens, but the mood of this film is already set creepy and ghastly from the opening credits sequence thanks to Scott's choosing of the late Jerry Goldsmith (1929 – 2004) to score Alien. When the score was originally released, it was only available on cassettes and vinyl. Since the technology was such that they could only hold, record and release about 30-45 minutes of music on cassettes and vinyl consumers were left with a minute amount of music. The actual released running time of the score's original release was 35:44, hardly enough to do it justice. Until Intrada Records released the complete 2 disc score in 2007. 

The entire score is simply one of the very best in the history of film scoring. Goldsmith and Scott had many go arounds about what Goldsmith wanted to do (a heroically brave sounding score) as opposed to Scott's desire for an abrasively scary score. Most of the time I would side with the composer, however in this case I am so glad the film makers opted for a creepy and terrifying score. The Intrada version has its share of the heroic side of Goldsmith's score but it has restored a great deal, if not all, of the terror inducing music that makes Alien such a treat. 

Disc 1 features the complete original score and the Main Title track is the heroic theme Goldsmith was going for. Hyper Sleep is a track that features a lone trumpet with some strings and backup horns and it is a beautiful track of a ship coming to life. The next few tracks, The Landing, The Terrain (very effectively chilling), The Craft, The Passage and The Skeleton all set up the horror that befalls the spaceship, Nostromo and her crew. The Passage features some very ominous wind like instruments coupled with some straining strings which will give you chills (at least, they did for me). There are a couple of pretty tracks like Nothing To Say, a mournfully light track. 

Most of Alien, though is wonderful array of screeching strings, belching brass and punctuating percussion. The remainder of the tracks are racingly terrifying as the battle for survival begins to take shape. Goldsmith has an entire orchestra (The National Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Lionel Newman) at his disposal and he uses sounds from every section. As I said, brass, strings, percussion and surprisingly some pretty scary elements from the woodwinds. There are a few elements which also employed the use of electronics, something which Goldsmith incorporated in many of his action scores in the years following Alien, most notably in the Rambo scores. 

The last seven tracks on disc 1, 'the rescored alternate cues' are my favorite. Starting with the original opening theme that only appeared in its entirety on the re release of the director's cut which is PERFECT for what follows in the film. It should have been in the original cut to begin with, but Scott let Goldsmith insert his own choice. Both are great tracks, but the restored, rescored alternate cue is much better; perfection. 

Disc 2 features the original released soundtrack album which is decent but incomplete, however they have restored some more alternate bonus tracks like a film version of the Main Title which is a great track. Virtually all of the extra tracks on this 2 disc masterpiece are alternate, unused inserts and versions that are as hair raising as the complete score itself. 

Intrada Records has done a phenomenal job going back to the original masters and digitally remastering this score from start to finish. With 2 discs, 47 tracks and over two hours of music nothing, to my knowledge has been left out. Alien is a classic horror film that terrifies me 34 years later. Now, the music will do that, too. Enjoy!

Shock 'Em Dead (1991)

Cheesy B Horror flick that warrants a watch!

Shock'Em Dead is a really low-budget (in other words, a true pedigree "B") horror movie from 1991 directed by Mark Freed. So low-budget, that you may even have trouble locating it. The first thing you'll notice is the girl in the picture - yes, that is Tracy Lords, ex-porn star, actually "acting" in a movie where she does absolutely nothing sexually related. She was pretty popular then! 

The funny thing is, she does her job well! At least compared to the rest of the actors, most of which are some of the silliest you'll ever see. So if the movie is so bad, why do we have it here? Well come on now! Everyone likes a good "B" movie, and this one is no exception. 

Basically, this music nerd (Stephen Quadros) decides to make a deal with the devil in order to become the biggest rock star in the world. Unfortunately, he finds out what the "catch" is, and it isn't pleasing. Although it is for some reason considered a horror movie, you'll find it to be a great comedy. Funny original songs such as 'I'm In Love With A Slut' will make you laugh, and the special effects must do the same. If you like band-related movies, 90's flicks, or low-budget films, this is something you'll want to hunt down. You can find the official 20th Anniversary Edition DVD here

And if you liked Traci Lords, you might want to see her in her recent appearance in the 2012 surreal black horror/comedy - Excision (2012) which also stars John Walters, Malcolm McDowell and Ray Wise.

Pulse (1988)

A wicked little Horror classic from the 80s

Pulse (1988) is one of those classic little 80s Horror B-films that you happen to stumble upon in the wee hours of the night that keeps you enthralled until its conclusion, despite the fact you have to get up for work at 7 in the morning. Unfortunately, if you are the type of viewer that likes everything spelled out for them at the conclusion of the film, then "Pulse" isn't for you.

The story begins in an unnamed suburban town where a strange, electronic entity inhabits the inner workings of your average American family's home, resulting in deadly situations. Why this occurs is not explained nor is the source of the strange life form revealed. The story is essentially told through the eyes of 10 year old David (played by Joey Lawrence from Gimme A Break TV series fame), the eldest of the two boys in the household. Cliff De Young and Roxanne Hart play his parents, Bill and Ellen. 

At first, the entity remains in the background as it, in a sense, explores the home and produces harmless poltergeist-like activities which are essentially ignored by the innocent family. Soon David becomes aware of its presence as it slowly becomes more malevolent. The creepy, unnamed old man that lives across the street (Charles Tyner) offers cryptic clues and warnings to David as he seems to have special insights into what is going on. He, for example, lives in a home that has no electrical service and is perfectly content to use kerosene lamps and the like for his daily existence as he ominously states to David, "You gotta pull the damn plug, boy!" 

At first David fails to heed the old man's warnings but later comes to realize that he and his family are in extreme jeopardy as he narrowly escapes being asphyxiated in the family's garage and his mother is horribly scalded while taking a shower. Soon, all Hell breaks loose as their idyllic home becomes a gauntlet of electrical devices on a rampage (as silly as it sounds, believe me) and David and his father struggle to survive the wrath of the electronic entity. 

One aspect of the film that needs mention is how the special effects were executed. Though they are simple by design, the close-ups and inner workings of the devices that the entity 'inhabits' is fascinating to watch and when the entity is finally thwarted by David's father, its demise is oddly cathartic to watch. 

You will enjoy this film because it works on many levels. The acting is quite good and the characters motivation's are believable. So, try to get a hold of on this minor classic, cook some popcorn and enjoy (but don't forget to unplug the TV set before you go to bed).

Lovelace (2013) - Official Trailer is Here!

The Original Trailer - sponsored by Lionsgate

In 1972 - before the internet, before the porn explosion - Deep Throat (1972) was a notorious social phenomenon: the first scripted pornographic theatrical feature film, featuring a story, some jokes, and an unknown and unlikely star, Linda Lovelace (real name Linda Boreman).

Escaping a strict religious family, Linda discovered freedom and the high-life when she fell for and married charismatic hustler Chuck Traynor. As Linda Lovelace she became an international sensation - less centerfold fantasy than a charming girl-next-door with an impressive capacity for fellatio. Fully inhabiting her new identity, Linda became an enthusiastic spokesperson for sexual freedom and uninhibited hedonism of those days. Six years later she presented another, utterly contradictory, narrative to the world - and herself as the survivor of a far darker story. 

Lovelace is that autobiographical dark story directed by Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman based on a script written by Andy Bellin. Starring Amanda Seyfried in the title role of Linda Boreman, it also features a stellar cast including Peter Sarsgaard, Sharon Stone, Adam Brody and Juno Temple in important roles besides significant cameos by James Franco, Eric Roberts, Hank Azaria, Robert Patrick, Chloe Sevigny, Wes Bentley and Chris Noth.

Lovelace originally premiered at the 2013 Sundance Film Festival and is releasing worldwide shortly! Here's the original trailer exclusively for all Websnacker Blog readers sponsored by Lionsgate!

Boogie Nights (1997)

Drugs, Disco and lotsa Sex 70's Style

Its told, Paul Thomas Anderson, the writer, director, and co-producer of the Oscar nominated Boogie Nights (1997), was obsessed with porn from an early age. This started with his childhood belief that a neighborhood house had been the site of at least one porno shoot, and, this obsession continued through his adolescence. The mid to late 70s, the period of Anderson's studious attention here, was porn's golden age – before AIDS, before Just Say No, before the advent of video and the decline in production values it wrought, seemingly before irony – and he has fashioned a loving, sincere elegy for the embarrassing excesses of the era. 

It's worth noting that the title of the film does indeed represent the first popular unironic use of the word "Boogie", and Anderson skillfully checks his cynicism at the door in telling the tale of young Eddie Adams (Mark Wahlberg) from Reseda, who dreams of making himself into something better and harbors a thirteen-inch co-star in his Wranglers. 

Boogie Nights is essentially the universal story of one man's rise and fall (if you'll excuse a pun), his struggle to keep on truckin'. But what a universe the film takes place in. The club where Eddie washes dishes is a gathering place for porn-industry luminaries like director Jack Horner (Burt Reynolds), earthy legend Amber Waves (Julianne Moore), insecure stud du jour Reed Rothchild (John C. Reilly), and high-school ingenue Rollergirl (Heather Graham). 

When Jack is tipped off to Eddie's potential (already displaying the self-promotional savvy that will mark his future career, Eddie has been selling peeks), he quickly recruits the young stallion for his stable of actors, luring him not so much with promises of money or fame as with fatherly concern, interested conversation, stiff drinks by the pool, and naked chicks on the sofa. It's a pitch tailor made for an impressionable boy, and one of the strengths of Anderson's direction – and, yes, Wahlberg's fine acting – is that they never let you forget that deep down, the film's hero is just a big dumb kid. 

You can tell that the film was a labor of love for Anderson; not just care but joy is lavished on his direction and compositions. The opening scene, a dizzy long tracking shot that snakes into and around the club where Jack holds court, contains a contagious excitement for the vitality of the actors – the camera just wants to get next to them, and you do too. It feels like a hybrid of Alan Rudolph and early Spielberg, wit without angst. 

Burt Reynolds, turns in a restrained, unobtrusive performance, conveying sadness transfigured into the best possible course of action. William H. Macy, in a smallish part, and Philip Seymour Hoffman as Scotty, the boom mike guy, are very good and touching. Anderson's handling of the diverse ensemble cast is indeed so deftly handled. 

The music too lifts up the movie to grander heights, although the songs aren't original here. Assembled by Karyn Rachtman, who was the brains and ears behind the Pulp Fiction soundtrack, it's pitch-perfect for the film and nearly constant, like a groovy tapestry backdrop. To the strains of "You Sexy Thing," Anderson's camera plunges underwater, even, to film Eddie cavorting with starlets in the rippling chlorinated blue, and you're almost underwater too with the perfection of it all, not wanting to have to come up for air. 

The ending though is sort of a cop-out. Maybe Anderson, as a first-time writer/director, either lacked the confidence to see his vision through or was afraid to risk his future career with the reputation as the guy who loosed on the public the idea that such giddy hedonism could go unpunished. As a result Boogie Nights lets go of its claim to subversiveness and bogs down in the same emotional populism that ruined The People vs. Larry Flynt. Yet, even after so many years, this is a great watch. 

Dredd (2012)

A visceral under-rated remake that deserves a larger audience

1995's Judge Dredd was savaged by critics when it was released. A critical failure, many die hard Dredd comic fans (on which it was based) hated its tongue and cheek humor and general silliness. I did not hate it and rather found its campiness quite endearing. Besides, you don't often  get to see Sylvester Stallone don an over the top role and still have genuine fun. 

By comparison, Dredd of 2012 is, to my understanding a more faithful adaptation of the comic book and a solid sci-fi actioner in its own right. Set in a dystopian future of huge urban scrawls, abject poverty, crime and colossal sepia-toned skyscraper towns, Dredd has a more' real' feel to it that adds to its advantage. 

The film starts in Mega City, a endlessly sprawling metropolis of concrete, neon and people. Massive skyscrapers that can house thousands of poor residents jut out of the ground like pillars from a distance. Most of the city shots are real shots of Johannesburg, South Africa that were digitally altered to create the monstrous urban structures but its done superbly.

As expected, Mega-City is a crime ridden dung heap ruled over by the menacing Ma-Ma (Lena Headey), a vicious psychopath and drug queen who also controls the black market on a new best selling, time-shifting mind drug, Slo-Mo. So, its upto the lawful Judges, by the book administrators of the law (played very well by Karl Urban and Olivia Thirlby) to take her down and keep civil order as best they can.

As an emotionless judge, jury and executioner all in one, Karl Urban in the lead role here is truly magnetic. You never get to see his face yet, he brings plenty of depth to the character.  Olivia Thirlby as his young rookie with a conscience adds a certain girlish innocence to the script when the movie starts but is a mature pass-out by the time all the bloodbath subsides and the movie ends.

Pete Travis, who gave us Vantage Point and End Game directs with kinetic flair and the result is a viscerally raw, gritty and intense movie experience.  The action scenes alone warrant a viewing and at just 95 minutes, its timed just right. A poor marketing strategy to position this as a 3D movie was the root cause for its market failure. Let it not deter you from watching what is actually a stunningly well made action entertainer. JohnnyTwoToes

Seven Psychopaths (2012)

JohnnyTwoToes loves this witty British Black Comedy!

First off let us not get confused like I almost did. I watched Seven Psychopaths MICHAEL McDONAGH's second feature length big time film since the odd but entertaining In Bruges (2008). This is NOT the same JOHN Michael McDonagh that recently directed the fantastic The Guard (2011) with Brendon Gleeson. 

I almost made the mistake of thinking both the McDonagh's was one and the same person and he had dropped his first name when he became a little more famous. "Since it is John he had better not," I mused. 

Having relieved my self of that error let me just say there are two McDonagh's and they are indeed brothers. Both are very gifted in writing and directing. Hopefully we will see more of their work in the future. Martin McDonagh's Seven Psychopaths is an eccentric and very dryly humorous film that tells the story of a screenwriter (Colin Farrell) who is a heavy drinker and in the middle of writers block. His new script for a project aptly titled Seven Psychopaths seems to have come out of the gates with nowhere to run. 

His friends, Hans (Christopher Walken) and Billy(Sam Rockwell) have a little side business where they kidnap peoples dogs, keep them until they see a sizable reward for the lost canines and return them for the reward. Pretty neat, huh? I guess in L.A. you can make a living doing just about ANYTHING. 

When the two kidnap a Shih Tzu that just so happens to belong to Charlie (Woody Harrelson), a local but powerful gangster. There is a sweet subplot about Hans wife who is in the hospital with cancer and it is subtly and quietly handled when Hans and Myra (Lind Bright Clay) are on screen. They talk to each other like married people would talk to but the scenes are not forced and the writing is not heavy handed. Less is more in scenes like this and Martin McDonagh writes it very well. 

The rest of the cast is phenomenal  as well. Sam Rockwell (one of my favorites) could pick up just about any film and carry it to the finish line (the exception is Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy (2005). But NOBODY could have saved that piece of crap). Rockwell and Walken are hilarious as they play off of each other and Colin Farrell shows he has some comic timing and garners some chuckles, too. Harrelson is always solid and his Charley is a vicious hood but still loves his doggy. 

Seven Psychopaths is not a slapstick comedy so don't think you are watch a guy fall down a flight of stairs into some paint. It is a complex comedy, with an interesting array of characters and they are interwoven into an interesting and eclectic story. Martin McDonagh has an eye and an ear for dialogue. He knows how people act with one another and how they can react to one another, too. I dare say he is Tarantinoish in how he creates dialogue. 

All said and done, Seven Psychopaths is not for everyone, but if you enjoyed In Bruges (also with Colin Farrell) and The Guard then Seven Psychopaths is just right for you. Seven Psychopaths ***1/2 out of 4