directed by james demonaco
Platinum dunes/BlumHouse/why not
I finally got around to seeing this after having been asked multiple times if I had, and although I found it passable, I’m not quite sure why it apparently carries so much cachet within certain populations. A thoroughly Hollywood production despite its minimal budget, it’s slick, glossy and hi-tech, but DOES that reassuring façade really provide the security to which we’ve entrusted it? Isn’t that “heavy,” man? Truth be told, I was a bit disappointed that the “Purge” action itself wasn’t depicted as more of a free-for-all. [Insert Ted Nugent guitar lick here] Indeed, the main set piece elicited in me a metaphorical sigh: “oh, look, it’s Them.” (You may substitute Ils if you prefer.) And none of the plot twists ‘n’ turns were much out of the ordinary, either. But with all that being said, it was still a fairly satisfying entertainment. Haven’t yet seen the prequel or sequel.
why did i see this movie?
Well, I had meant to see it since its theatrical release, as its teasers did their job well. Then I kept forgetting to do so.
should you see this movie?
When I say this is a “Hollywood” production, I mean it’s just contrived enough to remind you continually, HEY, THIS IS A MOVIE. Its big-ticket concept is not necessarily a bad thing, mind you, but one isn’t always in the mood for the proverbial popcorn picture.
highlight and low point
Nothing leaps to mind as a particular strength – the screenplay is too predictable – so I’ll say the neighbors’ revelation at least showed some creative spark. Therein also lies the film’s problem, of course; it mostly follows the rule book.
When the novel upon which this film is based was first published, I was in one of my periodic phases where I was not interested in reading any more goddamn Stephen King novels, besides which I thought it sounded pretty stupid, given that it seemed a little late to be ruminating on mobile phones. (And paradoxically proved to have been early enough to make a more prescient statement than it did!) Then a similarly King-obsessed friend managed to goad me into catching up on his more recent works – Under the Dome and Duma Key, in case you’re wondering – and I was screwed. Cell the novel is not of the more admirable S. King, and neither is this adaptation worthwhile, despite – or because of – the author’s work on the screenplay. John Cusack takes the lead role, Sam Jackson shows up for a paycheck, and the ending is completely different from the book’s, and appalling. It’s also one of the movie’s only effective scenes, and made me wonder yet again why the best-selling author seemingly doesn’t have an editor. Or at least one who can talk him out of his poorer ideas.
While technically not a horror movie, the moaning and wailing that greeted Episode VIII from its bereaved fanboys (and -girls) could have convinced one otherwise. Which, okay, I can dig where they’re coming from, as this installment plays for laughs more often than one might expect, obscures the franchise’s hoary catchphrase, and – heaven forfend! – introduces 
This title might seem a misnomer, as this mild-mannered British production does not provide its audience much in the way of chills or thrills. For characters in the movie, I suppose the moniker may be more apt, but many of the emotions on display are too restrained for such easy classification. Some anger is displayed, sure, and the young lass played by Susan George spends much of her screen time FREAKING OUT – her mewling, whimpering, sobbing, puling and so forth obscuring her Saxon patois till it’s all but incomprehensible at times – but all this really accomplishes is to annoy the living hell out of certain viewers, such as this one. This film actually is more or less a rumination on various mental states, and does not convey the sensation one reasonably might expect. It does, however, contain a few oddities. The police are depicted as almost comically inutile, seemingly by design, and a thought-provoking sequence involves one of them getting “the gun” out of its secure locked storage. Cultural differences! In addition, one of the characters is a toddler who seems sedated throughout much of his screen time. Overall, the picture feels rather disjointed and haphazard.
I … have read over 60 Stephen King books – which is to say, most of them. IT is one of my favorites, so I am perhaps biased in my abjuration of this werewolf picture. But what makes the book work is the relationships of the “Losers’ Club” kids – with each other, and with the adult world – and we get almost no sense of that in this retelling. Instead, we’ve got a bunch of kids who decide to hang out together for some reason and, moreover, to confront the hideous monster killing children in their town. Their enemies, meanwhile, are even less well-drawn, so further impetus for much of the action is lost. The climactic scenes inside the monster’s lair are well-envisioned, and a few of the individual vignettes are effective. But the best scene was spoiled by being included in the trailer, and I feel like a sucker for having bought into it. I’m still gonna see Part II, of course.
Featuring the absolute worst creature costume since at least the embarrassing Howard the Duck, this production derails itself by punching above its class, so to speak. Ambition is a fine, fine attribute to possess, but man, if you do not have the budgetary capabilities to make your mysterious and deadly lake predator look like anything but a guy wearing a rubber suit, you might want to consider taking your script in a different direction. (This applies even if making low-budget horror is your backer’s stated goal – and specialty, in the case of Larry Fessenden, overseer of Glass Eye Pix and its ScareFlix subsidiary, whose banner flies over Hypothermia.) The ultimate shame of it is that aside from a few acting performances that aren’t quite professional grade, this little ice fishing movie had some potential. It’s also a little shy on running time and has a non-ending to rival any other you’ve ever seen. And, possibly, to “top” it.
Now here we have a bona fide black comedy. This is a dark, dark picture, but it is laced throughout with unmistakable pathos, and the escalation of terrible miseries suffered by the eponymous character produces a kind of shell-shocked humor. Certainly, very little in this movie is funny per se, but it lurches enough toward the absurd to make it matter. It would be hard to definitively describe this as a horror film, but in all honesty, I’m not sure what else it could be called, either, given the internally logical extreme it eventually reaches. Carried not only by its madcap premise – May has trouble making friends, let’s say – but by the outstanding title performance from Angela Bettis, it’s an engaging accomplishment. Which is not to say it’s for everyone. In fact, a sequence or two in the latter half had me watching from between my fingers, and I seek out movies like this on purpose. But it manages to tug at the heartstrings in between blows to the head, and even the hokey (and ultimately predictable) final scene couldn’t besmirch it too much. I can see why this was a critical success.
Confession time: It will in no way be possible for me to describe in mere words this incredible movie, and trust me, when I say “incredible,” I mean it. What we have here is one of the most completely batshit cinematic wonders ever concocted. Just about every time I was convinced nothing could top what I had just seen, well, you can probably guess where I’m going with this. How even to begin … Loath as I am to provide spoilers in these reviews (or indeed, as you may have noticed, much relevant information at all), let me relate to you this movie’s plot. A cruise ship is rammed by an unmanned Nazi vessel that pilots itself and is apparently sentient. It’s also bloodthirsty. No, really, the ship needs blood. We know this because after former cruise ship captain George Kennedy is taken over by the evil spirit of Death Ship, he informs his would-be successor Richard Crenna, when revealing his/its plans to kill said would-be successor and his family. (This is ¾ of the way through; almost everyone else who survived the initial calamitous event has already been bumped off by D. S.) Luckily for me, I was watching a version of this insanity that was helpfully subtitled, so as to highlight the ace dialogue, and treating me to captions such as [almighty crash], [explosion], and my personal favorite, [faint sounds of torture and suffering]. Although assuredly unintentional, this film is nonetheless a laugh riot.
I have long wondered if one could fairly judge the quality of the acting in subtitled movies written and produced in a language not one’s own, or if the language gap and the distraction of reading the dialogue prevented accurate assessment of the performances. Well, after viewing this Thai production, I no longer wonder. No matter what the circumstances may be, it is plain Natthamonkarn Srinikornchot does not deliver good acting in the lead role. Her mien never changes much throughout the course of the picture; she seems to have only one emotional state and only one way to express it. As for the film anchored by her performance, it bears some striking similarities to The Cut – the Korean film sometimes also known as “Cadaver” – although it is by at least one measure not nearly as hard to grant credence. (On the other hand, both feature vengeful ghosts, so what am I even saying.) Both pictures also feature a coterie of young medical students, a tremulous lead female, a father figure on the faculty, and mysterious death. This one cost a lot less to make.
Okay. Well. The sequel to the previously discussed paragon of benevolence and good feelings Offspring, this lighthearted jest manages to outdo its predecessor in casting aspersions on the boundaries of human behavior. And that’s accomplished long before the revolting gore brightens things up. Starting its bleak portrayal of life in human society limning a few quirks and oddities, gradually revealing more depravity layer by layer and eventually producing complete incredulity, this movie is a skillful demonstration of how to achieve perfection in the art of shining a light on things your audience probably would have felt better never, ever seeing. A true sickie, horrible in almost every way by textbook definition.
SPACE RATS From Outer Space 