Obviously connections between Jonathan King’s horror-comedy BLACK SHEEP, a ridiculous little film about genetically-engineered sheep that bleat to a murderous rampage, and the early works of Peter Jackson can easily be made. After all, not since DEAD ALIVE – or perhaps the very-underrated FRIGHTENERS – has New Zealand been the backdrop for a schlocky horror film.
Unfortunately, BLACK SHEEP spends entirely too much time deciding if the film is to be either a gory horror-fest, or a light-hearted Spielbergian romp ala ARACHNOPHOBIA or GREMLINS. Nathan Meister’s fear of sheep is a little too forced and the obligatory romance between his character, Henry, and that of Danielle Mason’s lacks any sort of chemistry, genetically-engineered or not.
What was missing from the film is the element of pure sarcasm; an event where the actors can almost get away with winking to the audience in shared knowledge. In a film featuring zombie sheep, the audience is not looking for the sophistication of THE RING or even the horror of NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, rather something akin to what should be this film's goofy contemporaries: the EVIL DEAD trilogy, SLITHER and even SHAUN OF THE DEAD.
BLACK SHEEP does have its charming moments, charming, that is, for those lovers of zombies. The attack during older-brother Angus' speech is the highlight of the film. That and the movie downright looks great. Even aside from Weta’s high-caliber practical effects, the lighting and, in particular, the sets provided a top-notch feel to the production. That creepy drop of nervous anxiety running down your spine was the only feeling missing.
As Always,
theJOE
Showing posts with label b-movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label b-movies. Show all posts
08 November 2007
27 September 2007
Lone Wolf and Cub for the X-Box Generation
Glorifying violence - and perhaps even depravity - SHOOT' EM UP certainly revels in the fact that its nothing more than a stunt-laden, high-octane, 21st Century Warner Bros. cartoon. Paul Giamatti's hitman, like Elmer Fudd before him, carries a big gun and certainly doesn't let a thing like wounded pride get in his way. Clive Owen's good-guy, Smith, bounces around and eat carrots continually like the ancestor his character is derived from.
Pure, unadulterated action keeps time with Paul Haslinger's rock-n-roll rhythms coupled with the likes of NIRVANA, AC/DC, MOTORHEAD and MOTLEY CRUE as the ridiculous action and well-choreographed stunts builds on, yet also mocks, all the cinematic gifts once presented by the MATRIX.
Owen's Smith makes a perfectly rascally rogue. Likeable with his own set of morals and is even fatherly as he invincibly flies between bullets with Oliver, his surrogate son, ironically trying to find a safe haven for the little guy.
When not racing, diving, driving or shooting, however, the pace of the film dies in a manner that the two main characters do not. A little background is given hinting at Smith's time as a Black Ops agent and the tragedy that haunts him. Giamatti's Hertz was a one-time profiler. But none of that information is confirmed as it isn't needed. Smith, like Clint Eastwood's Man-With-No-Name, does not need a past as he's clearly a creature of the present. Such in-between scenes do nothing more than create a lag as the viewer anxiously awaits the next scene of action.
Another detouring element is the inclusion of Monica Bellucci's character, Donna. Aside from the cheesecake factor that Bellucci is flatteringly good at, allowing a girl into this guy's action world detracts both Smith's already responsibility-laden mission as well as the plot.
SHOOT 'EM UP, just like any video game, has each scene's stakes getting higher and higher until the final meeting with the big bad boss and the film's farcical end. Writer/Director Michael Davis obviously wanted to give audiences a treat where a thinking man could unplug and enjoy mindless fun with a story that doesn't make much sense to begin with. Davis simply needs to learn not to let go of the accelerator in the case of a sequel.
As Always,
theJOE
Pure, unadulterated action keeps time with Paul Haslinger's rock-n-roll rhythms coupled with the likes of NIRVANA, AC/DC, MOTORHEAD and MOTLEY CRUE as the ridiculous action and well-choreographed stunts builds on, yet also mocks, all the cinematic gifts once presented by the MATRIX.
Owen's Smith makes a perfectly rascally rogue. Likeable with his own set of morals and is even fatherly as he invincibly flies between bullets with Oliver, his surrogate son, ironically trying to find a safe haven for the little guy.
When not racing, diving, driving or shooting, however, the pace of the film dies in a manner that the two main characters do not. A little background is given hinting at Smith's time as a Black Ops agent and the tragedy that haunts him. Giamatti's Hertz was a one-time profiler. But none of that information is confirmed as it isn't needed. Smith, like Clint Eastwood's Man-With-No-Name, does not need a past as he's clearly a creature of the present. Such in-between scenes do nothing more than create a lag as the viewer anxiously awaits the next scene of action.
Another detouring element is the inclusion of Monica Bellucci's character, Donna. Aside from the cheesecake factor that Bellucci is flatteringly good at, allowing a girl into this guy's action world detracts both Smith's already responsibility-laden mission as well as the plot.
SHOOT 'EM UP, just like any video game, has each scene's stakes getting higher and higher until the final meeting with the big bad boss and the film's farcical end. Writer/Director Michael Davis obviously wanted to give audiences a treat where a thinking man could unplug and enjoy mindless fun with a story that doesn't make much sense to begin with. Davis simply needs to learn not to let go of the accelerator in the case of a sequel.
As Always,
theJOE
06 July 2007
Necessary Ingredients to B-Movie Magic
Ridiculous? Sure. Gory? Without a doubt. Cliché? Certainly at times… but aren't those three ingredients the necessary spices that marinate the typical b-grade film to that of a choice cult classic? You bet!
Slither, you see, is bred from a high pedigree of b-film classics, and that’s even ignoring director James Gunn’s connections to all things Troma, attributing the over-the-top gory camp to its grandfather, Evil Dead II, and the sci-fi wackiness to that of its father, Tremors. Gregg Henry’s dialogue is easily imagined as coming from Bruce Campbell while the romantic tensions between Nathan Fillion and Elizabeth Banks are on the same route as Kevin Bacon and Finn Carter. Other family likenesses include snappy one-liners, a well-intentioned and likable rogue who must stand alone against an invasion of body-snatching space slugs and, of course, unexplained dead things. Slither is an entertaining chase that consistently brings just as many laughs as it does screams.
Even before the likes of Shaun Of The Dead, genre-blending flicks of comedic horror have always been one of the most difficult theatric tricks to successfully pull off as that delicate balance of acceptance comes into play. For instance, how much camp can be digested before being conceived as ridiculous or simply too much must fit in with the comedic style and tone of the script. Then, how scary and how gory can the film go without being visualized as either an outright terror or a gooey mess?
Usually, the answer to those questions is probably luck. However, talent and a true desire for the story does go a long way. Aside from the aforementioned films of Sam Raimi and Ron Underwood, examples of these can be seen with Peter Jackson's Dead Alive, Joe Dante's Gremlins and John Carpenter's comedic-actioner Big Trouble In Little China.
There is one more element that must be added to the mix: enjoyment. Regardless if the film brings laughter or shrieks, the final result must be satisfaction in the story, the involvement of the characters and the entertaining aspect that the afflictions within are not happening to you. Slither satisfies all three desires.
So add Slither to that "must see" list of spectacles where the silliness can become real and accepted and experienced over and over.
As Always,
theJOE
Slither, you see, is bred from a high pedigree of b-film classics, and that’s even ignoring director James Gunn’s connections to all things Troma, attributing the over-the-top gory camp to its grandfather, Evil Dead II, and the sci-fi wackiness to that of its father, Tremors. Gregg Henry’s dialogue is easily imagined as coming from Bruce Campbell while the romantic tensions between Nathan Fillion and Elizabeth Banks are on the same route as Kevin Bacon and Finn Carter. Other family likenesses include snappy one-liners, a well-intentioned and likable rogue who must stand alone against an invasion of body-snatching space slugs and, of course, unexplained dead things. Slither is an entertaining chase that consistently brings just as many laughs as it does screams.
Even before the likes of Shaun Of The Dead, genre-blending flicks of comedic horror have always been one of the most difficult theatric tricks to successfully pull off as that delicate balance of acceptance comes into play. For instance, how much camp can be digested before being conceived as ridiculous or simply too much must fit in with the comedic style and tone of the script. Then, how scary and how gory can the film go without being visualized as either an outright terror or a gooey mess?
Usually, the answer to those questions is probably luck. However, talent and a true desire for the story does go a long way. Aside from the aforementioned films of Sam Raimi and Ron Underwood, examples of these can be seen with Peter Jackson's Dead Alive, Joe Dante's Gremlins and John Carpenter's comedic-actioner Big Trouble In Little China.
There is one more element that must be added to the mix: enjoyment. Regardless if the film brings laughter or shrieks, the final result must be satisfaction in the story, the involvement of the characters and the entertaining aspect that the afflictions within are not happening to you. Slither satisfies all three desires.
So add Slither to that "must see" list of spectacles where the silliness can become real and accepted and experienced over and over.
As Always,
theJOE
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