Final Four (Game 2)

The Saint vs. Mazes and Monsters

In many ways, this is even a better battle than the last game. The Saint is clearly the prohibitive favorite of this tournament (say, like UCONN) and Mazes and Monsters is a movie that some would say never should have been in the tournament in the first place (you know, like George Mason). In order to see who comes out on top let’s take a look at the two things that I believe set these films apart from the rest of the field: dialogue and pure absurdity.

Sir Thomas Moore vs. Pardieux (I have seen at least 8 spellings of this), A Holy Man
When Kilmer takes on the role of Sir Thomas Moore, a leather-pant clad-thousand-pounds-a-bottle-wine-swilling-philosophizing Brit, he delivers what may be one of the greatest monologues of all time. I have mentioned it in previous posts and I will surely mention it again in the future. From “I was weeping and I slipped,” to the incomprehensible moan at the end, it is pure perfection. You must also remember that this speech follows the line, “what are you doing?” said as Kilmer stares into a mirror and cuts a gash into his own head. Minutes later, Elisabeth Shue will speak the immortal, “Take off your pants—shirt,” and lapse into a high-pitched cackle. We can’t leave out non-Sir Thomas related quotes like “(Human) fly…don’t buzz off,” and “Do you know what the worst part about being you is? Pretending to be so bad in bed.” Every piece of dialogue in this movie is utterly preposterous. When combined with Kilmer’s bizarre line-readings the words are very hard to beat.

What makes the dialogue in Mazes and Monsters so totally Grieco is its earnestness. While Kilmer seems to almost laugh his way through The Saint, Hanks and friends never waver when delivering decrees like “It is you Frelich. You have been restored to the living. Whoever did this is a great holy man,” or “Glacia, has someone placed a spell of forgetfulness on you?” They spout cut-rate Tolkien-speak and D&D declarations as though they are second (1st in Pardeux’s case) nature. From the moment they greet you (I am Pardue, a holy man. I walk with Glacia the Fighter) you know exactly what they are all about. In the hands of a truly gifted screenwriter and director Mazes and Monsters might have been able to achieve some sort of legendary status in the fantasy world, but with the dialogue they’re working with it’s pure GIK and better for it.

The Russian Underground vs. NYNY
It is all but impossible to single out the most absurd scene in The Saint. The entire film is an exercise in pure lunacy from the opening score to Roger Moore’s (the original “Saint”) closing voiceover. However, I would like to focus on a scene that begins in a Russian flop house and ends in the lair of a Russian mercenary-type. Kilmer is about to freeze to death because he has been hiding underwater to avoid detection from the techno-dance-beat-obsessed bad guy. In order to save him, Shue takes both her and his clothes off and lies on top of him. Kilmer then begins some delusional mumbling about how the dogs killed his childhood love. The bad guys are closing in, so our heroes have to move. Luckily, they are rescued by a woman called Frankie who deals in stolen art and revolution. The exchange between the three is equal parts insane rambling and bizarre product placement (Bulgari watch anyone?). From this scene, things just get crazier until the climax that still calls for a sequel, damnit! Why won’t they please make a freaking sequel? There’s three Fast and Furiestests for godsake.

The live Mazes and Monsters game in the abandoned caverns is pretty bold, but when Hanks, crazy as all hell, arrives in NY to complete his quest for the “Two Towers” we reach a whole new level. The NY in the movie could only have been envisioned by a Canadian, and Hanks’ insanity combined with the insanity of the homeless is just amazing. As are the increasingly powerful visions of the Great Hall, who is actually Hanks’ dead brother. Pardu’s agony/triumph/mental breakdown leads to an ending that sort of defies all logic. His rich friends who, by the way, would never be friends or play an RPG together in the real world, come to see Hanks at the home of his parents. He is still caught up in the fantasy, so they indulge him in one more game even though it has clearly ruined his life. Let’s take a look at an excerpt from the closing monologue, “And so we played the game again for one last time…We did not see the monsters. Pardoo saw the monsters…We saw nothing but the death of hope…”

The Winner
The Saint bullies Mazes and Monsters from the get-go, but just as you think the plucky gamers are about to die, their cleric summons a Phoenix spell and gets them right back in it. Let’s be honest, nine out of ten times The Saint mops the floor with Mazes and Monsters, but it’s tournament time, baby! Anything can happen. Mazes and Monsters, like George Mason before it, slays the mighty Frost Giant and moves into the final game. Pandemonium ensues and nerds from all over storm the floor, many of whom catch a whiff of “girl” for the first time in their lives.


Special thanks to the good people at www.spookylibrarians.com who are keepig the "Mazes" dream alive.

Final Four (Game 1)

Starship Troopers vs. Left Behind

I thought we’d kick things off in the Voight bracket this time around.

Breakdown
These two films have everything it takes to be a GIK champion. SST has the budget, but the makers of Left Behind think they’re producing a big Hollywood picture for a few grand, which gives it a quality that is truly rare. In order to determine a winner I had to break it down to two things: Key match-up and key scene.

Kirk Cameron vs. Casper Van Dien
There’s nothing like putting a has-been up against a never-was. Kirk plays things as though bringing his name to the piece is really going to get people fired up about Christ. I respect that. Especially because he sports a five o’clock shadow that sheds his “Tiger Beat” image while reminding us of how powerful he was in that episode where Boner went off to join the army.

Van Dien, on the other hand, has the lock-jawed, oddly high-pitched mumble of a man who thinks he’s on the brink, but is, in reality, showing the world that he’ll never quite have what it takes to be a star. You can tell he’s really trying hard up there even if he doesn’t get the joke that the filmmakers are going for. It’s kind of like watching a little kid ride a bike for the first time right before he realizes his dad has let go and he takes a wicked spill.

Both performances are beautiful to watch, but Kirk’s former-TV-star-in-a-ridiculous-film is just too Grieco to ignore.

Public Flogging vs. Biblical Dude in Rented Costume
There are countless amazing scenes to choose from in SST. There’s the awkward lovemaking, the tragic cutting-in-half/death of Michael Ironside, and everything Doogie, Denise and that guy who cheats on Kelly in an episode of “Saved by the Bell” do. However, the stripping (1/2 way) and subsequent public flogging of Van Dien stands out as the centerpiece of the film. It has all of the S&M, homo-erotic, Messianic overtones that elevate the movie to a higher level.

There is a scene in Left Behind where Kirk Cameron is filming fighter jets being blown out of the sky (by the wrath/grace of God/Antichrist?) and a Biblical dude wanders out from just off-camera and starts speaking to Kirk who understands him even though everyone else just hears Hebrew. The man’s costume rivals those of The Book of Mormon: The Movie (note: You must find and see The Book of Mormon: The Movie. It will truly blow your mind.) I’m pretty sure the Bible guy’s robes and fake beard were worn by the actor who played Jacob in a regional theatre production of Jason and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat that I was in. (I played the brother who sings in a French accent. Oh Lloyd Weber is there nothing you can’t do?) Anyway, the scene is truly one of the most laughable moments in movie history. Each time I have watched Left Behind (and I have watched it many times), I have had to go back and rewind it over and over again.

The Winner
If I were to tell you to see one of these movies it would be Starship Troopers. I love it, and I really do think it’s kind of brilliant. But Left Behind is just too damn hot in the post-season. It’s the type of movie I dreamed about reviewing when I started this thing. Cinderella shocks the world again and moves into the championship!

Round One Update

Last week at GIK was one filled with heartbreak, upsets, and some great hustle, so before we head into the Final Four tomorrow I want to get everyone caught up.

In the first game of the Boxleitner Bracket, #1 seedThe Saint came to dominate, give 110%, and do the things it had to do to put points on the board. The vaguely '90s high-waisted jeans and immobile wolf mask of #4 seed Eyes of the Werewolf weren't enough to even make it a game. In game two, young Tom Hanks (Pardu, a Holyman) and his band of super cool gamer friends in #3 seed Mazes and Monsters pulled a minor upset and defeated a space-traveling Jason Voorhees in Jason X.

The Voight Bracket started out calmly enough with #2 seed Starship Troopers outplaying J.Lo's ass, Vaughn's bloat, and D'Onofrio's whatever in #3 seed The Cell. Then, things got a little Grieco as the commissioner yanked Judgment from play and replaced it with Left Behind. In a game that generated heated debate, the newly-appointed #4 seed Left Behind shocked the world and dropped #1 seed Showgirls.

That leves us with a Final Four that looks like this:

(1) The Saint vs. (3) Mazes and Monsters

(2) Starship Troopers vs. (4) Left Behind

As George Mason has proven, anything can happen at tournament time, so get ready for some great games.

Go LSU?

Showgirls vs. Left Behind

How many times must I be bested by Kev in the world of sports? I mean, the man doesn’t even really like basketball. Did you see that bullshit buzzer beater by UT? And the Duke game. Sweet Lord, the Duke game. Way to go out like a pro, J.J. Way to shoot 15% percent from the field, you fuck. Sorry. I’m sorry about that. It’s just gonna take a long time for me to get over this one.

Somehow, despite my anger, bewilderment, and crippling sadness, I have managed to move the GIK tournament forward. (special thanks to all of you who called or wrote with words of support.)

Showgirls
When I first saw Showgirls in the theater I was in college and a little less than with-it. While sitting in the AMC Grand (hell yeah 24 screens), I turned to my good friend Danny and asked, “Hey Danny. Who’s that Kyle MacLachlan wannabe?” Danny, gentle soul that he is, replied, “Dude. That’s Kyle MacLachlan.” I have never forgotten the sense of horror and shame I felt as I realized Special Agent Dale Cooper was getting it on with Jesse Spano up there in that pool. Believe me people, Showgirls has earned its reputation as one of the worst films ever made. The vomiting in the parking lot, the weird “I’m on my period” Alvin Ailey dance scene, the soft-core lesbian undertones, Gina Gershon’s bizarre southern accent, the ice cubes on the nipples, the sad excuse for extension the dancers display, and Robert Davi are just a few of the highlights. The dialogue is also borderline insane. And the heroine’s name is Nomi Malone. Nomi, people! Oh director Paul Verhoeven (remember him from Starship Troopers?) why do I love you so? Perhaps it’s because I can’t figure out if you’re a genius pulling off some Kilmer-style hoax or a sad middle-aged man who really just wants to direct porn and sleep with younger women. If you’re going to watch Showgirls (and you should watch it many, many times) do it right and get the Deluxe Special Edition (our copy is Sherpa’s, not mine). It comes with "pin the pasties on the stripper" and an elaborate drinking game that involves custom shot glasses and a deck of cards. It’ll really help you understand the film on a much deeper level.

Left Behind
This last-second tournament replacement has everything you want in a Christian propaganda film. There’s the Commodore 64 FX, the constant sermonizing, and Kirk Cameron. Yep. Good old Mike Seaver (now with his own shown on TBN) plays a “GNN” news anchor who is left behind (title plug) with all of the other sinners after the Rapture. He must then find Christ and lead a plucky band of former non-believers against the Antichrist. Leave it to those crazy Protestants to make the Antichrist a Russian dude called Nicolae Carpathia. The Catholics always make The Beast some sort of Brit, and that’s just not Red Dawn at all. Anyway, Kirk, his real-life wife, and some guy who I’m pretty sure was either in Flight of the Intruder or Best of the Best unravel the plot of the Antichrist and start to see him for who he really is. Well, the real-life wife actually remains a doubter, but I think she comes around or dies in one of the sequels (at times, Left Behind II: Tribulation Force is even better than Part I. Sadly, I have't seen Part III yet). I often try to think of a movie that is funnier than Left Behind, but I always fail. Look, I don’t want to get into who’s crazy or who made up what out of thin air, but come on. I’m pretty sure that even the believers will agree that the Kirk Cameron character does not make an appearance in the Book of Revelation (or The Book of Daniel, so back off prophecy whores). Left Behind is ridiculous in so many ways it’s amazing. And at the end of the movie (thanks for the copy BTS) Kirk comes on the screen and tells you (the select few who have received it in the mail) to spread the word about the film to your heathen friends, so people will flock to the theaters when it comes out. How’d that work out? Anybody know? You guys see this bad boy in the theater? In the end, it might not be as sexy as The Omega Code, but Left Behind is the most perfect representation of a particular genre that I have ever seen.

The Breakdown
Folks this one was a battle. Showgirls is a mega-power. It dominates in the paint and on the perimeter. However, it has a gratuitous rape scene, and anybody who knows me knows that I just can’t stand gratuitous rape scenes. Left Behind has the Lord and my love of all things preachy on its side, and that’s how it pulled off the shocking upset. That’s right. The #4 seed is moving onto the second round. That’s why they call it Grieco Madness, baby!

Fucking LSU

Judgment Scratched. Tournament Mired in Controversy.

In a shocking move the GIK commissioner yanked Judgment from tournament play just prior to its opening round game and replaced it with fellow religious propaganda film Left Behind. Some will say that the commissioner was merely correcting a terrible mistake he made in the selection process, and that Left Behind should have been in the tournament from the get-go. Others might suggest that the commissioner’s VCR is broken, and since it is all but impossible to find Judgment on DVD, he could not give the film its proper due. We may never know the real reason behind his decision. The commissioner would like to apologize to Corbin Bernson, Mr. T, and the great Nick Mancuso who star in Judgment, a film that “puts God on trial.” He would also like to point out that it is a bold piece and that everyone should see it. However, he looks forward to tomorrow’s first-round game between the left-wing tit fest Showgirls and the right-wing, morally sound Left Behind.

Please make the appropriate changes to your brackets and get ready for some serious action.

Starship Troopers vs. The Cell

Before we get started I just want to say that there is finally a new episode of “Lost” on tonight. Woo-hoo!

Alright, since we began with the #1 vs. #4 game in the Boxleitner Bracket, I thought it would be nice if we opened with the #2 vs. #3 game for the Voight section of the draw.

Starship Troopers
Now, BTS had some problems with Starship Troopers even being considered a GIK film, and he raises some valid points. This movie exists in its own world, and it probably deserves a blog dedicated to its many nuances. If only there were time. It’s part action flick, part cutting satire, part broad parody, and all kickass. However, it stars Casper Van Dien, Michael Ironside (“V: The Final Battle,” Total Recall), Doogie Howser, Jake Busey, and the somewhat lovely/somewhat terrifying Denise Richards, and not even BTS can deny that they have Grieco written all over them. In the future (a future that would exist if the Nazis had been successful in WWII), all the rich white teens live in Buenos Aries where they play the greatest version of football known to Man and generally look like they’re pushing 30. However, the world is at war with an alien race of giant insects and in order to become a citizen you have to join in the fight. Against his parents’ wishes, Rico (Van Dien) joins the grunts on the front lines. Richards, it seems, has what it takes to be a crack pilot, and Doogie is a genius psychic who joins the “Games and Theory” branch of the military and starts dressing like Himmler. The three friends are split up across the universe and the most graphic bug-related violence of all time ensues. Eventually, the war escalates, the three leads are reunited, and a giant “Brain” bug that looks like a vagina shows up. (Oh director Paul Verhoeven, do you think of anything but vagina?) The bug gets captured, Doog senses that it’s afraid, and everyone celebrates. Look, I can’t do this film justice here. You have to see it, but if you’re not into severed limbs, decapitations, gratuitous vomit, and gratuitous tit shots it might not be your thing.

The Cell
Don’t you just love movies that take place on the psychic plane? I mean, anything can happen. Up is down, left is right, and J. Lo’s still the worst damn actor you’ll ever see. In order to find a girl who has been kidnapped and is about to die, Jennifer Lopez must literally go into the mind of the killer (a process that, for some reason, requires her to wear some sort of pleather cat-suit). Once inside the mind, she steps into a world where she must deal with landscapes that strive so hard for the Dali, and she must also deal with her own fears. Spooooky. Back in the real world, Vince Vaughn uses the information J. Lo gains to track down the missing girl. This is one of the highlights of The Cell as Vaughn is in that dark period before he bounced back with Old School, and he’s totally bloated, clearly drunk, and judging by his eyes, suffering from some serious pill cravings. Anyway, back to the infinite universe that is the human brain. The killer that Selena has entered is played by the incomparable Vincent D’Onofrio. Holy shit! He gets to do it all in this piece. Whether he’s a cloven-hoofed, behorned demon-beast or a scared child crying in the corner while he hides from a cloven-hoofed, behorned demon-beast, he just tears it up. His performance is beyond Grieco, yet somehow more ridiculous than Grieco. Seriously, it makes Kilmer look like Strathairn (wrap your minds around that, y’all). D’Onofrio is the only reason to hold out ‘till the end of this thing. Well, that and the bondage gear.

Breakdown
D’Onofrio comes to play, but he, like Nevada’s precious Nick Fazekas, can’t get it done on his own, and J. Lo’s ass is no match for the callous stare of sweet Denise. Rico’s Roughnecks roll as #2 seed Starship Troopers easily moves into the next round.

Jason X vs. Mazes and Monsters

Jason X
Finally, the Friday the 13th series reaches the pinnacle of absurdity as Jason, like Leprechaun and Pinhead before him, travels to space. Sure, when Jason took Manhattan it was ridiculous, but somebody had to clean up that godforsaken town, so it kind of made sense. Anyway, Jason X (for “10” but also for “extreme”) takes place in the not-so-distant future. You know, where people kind of dress the same, but vehicles are a little more kickass. In this adventure, Jason has been frozen and he ends up on a spaceship with a group of sexy teens (or 20-somethings, I can’t even tell anymore). Eventually, he thaws out and through the magic of technology gets a futuristic mask/machete upgrade and the killing begins. From there, the movie pretty much turns into a cheap Alien imitation with Jason filling in for the Giger beast, but the music is a little more techno and the artistry is a little more lacking. Alright, let’s get to the point. Jason Voorhees is in f’ing space, y’all. Come on! In a way, it’s more Grieco than Grieco. The gore is also just perfect, and several of the deaths are simply splendid.

Mazes and Monsters
Mazes and Monsters (henceforth, M&M) was made for Canadian TV, and it has that secretly Canadian charm throughout. Some of you might be too young to remember a time in the good old 1980s when there was a group of kids even nerdier than myself who spent days on end immersed in “Dungeons and Dragons” and then totally freaked out and killed themselves or did slay the mythical Dark Elf who was, in actuality, just one of their friends. M&M hits on this important point in our (and apparently Canada’s) history. A young Tom Hanks plays Robbie, but really he plays Pardu, A Holy Man. Pardu walks with Glacia the fighter. Only that goes sour, and Glacia starts walking with Frelick the Frenetic, but that’s another story altogether. Hanks and his other super-cool college friends grow bored of common RPGs (role playing games for the tragically un-hip) and decide to play in their own live-action version created by their suicidal friend in some abandoned caverns. From there, Hanks snaps and goes on a quest bestowed upon him in a dream by his dead brother. He totally becomes Pardu and believe me Hanks gives you everything you'd expect from a future multiple Academy Award winner. Just as Jason once did, Pardu journeys to New York. Once there, he meets a King/homeless guy, accidentally kills a dude, and heads to the Two Towers (let’s not even get into it) to complete his journey. In the end, Hanks is hauled off by the crazy catchers and he retires to his parents’ country home where he speaks of innkeepers and magic coins for he is still trapped in the world of Dungeons and---sorry---of Mazes and Monsters.

Breakdown
#2 seed Jason X is, in my opinion, the best Friday the 13th since the one with the girl (Teena?) who might be possessed by Jason or whatever. It delivers everything you want. However, there is just something I love about Hanks before he started taking himself so seriously. The “fantasy” dialogue in M&M is also incredible in so many ways. Did I mention that Pardu, a Holy Man, walks with Glacia the Fighter? Listen up, people. #3 seed Mazes and Monsters pulls the upset, and it’s got the HP and MP to give The Saint a run in the next round.

Stay tuned tomorrow for the opening tip-off in the much maligned Voight Bracket.

The Saint vs. Eyes of the Werewolf

Eyes of the Werewolf
The greatest challenge of watching Eyes of the Werewolf is trying to figure out when the hell it was made. While it was “released” in 2003, the high-waisted jeans, high-cut panties, and the abundance of Geo Trackers on the road suggest a different time altogether. The story follows a man who receives an eye transplant (yep, an eye transplant) and begins to take on the characteristics of the donor. Unfortunately, the donor was a werewolf. Full-moons that were clearly shot in the middle of the day follow, various incredibly gory deaths take place, and a lesbian subplot between a nurse and a cop never gets off the ground. There’s a midget, a few yokels, and some of the worst effects you have ever seen. Although, I was way into the wolf mask they were working with.

The Saint
For those of you who are not familiar with The Saint, I weep. Kilmer dons so many masks it’s hard to keep up with. While his brilliant, tortured “Sir Thomas Moore” is the standout, we must never forget his Spaniard on the plane who seduces the hot girl in order to transport some sort of medal through customs or his overly-effeminate, possibly-German guy who goes face-to-face with the traitor Tretiak. His Russian and Aussie accents are pretty awesome, too.

Breakdown
Eyes of the Werewolf shows a lot of heart throughout with its blatant stereotypes, seemingly utter lack of cinematography, its soft-core boob shots, and a script that, if written by mentally-challenged children, is really, really great. Seriously, you all did a wonderful job. None of this even matters though, because The Saint came to fucking play, y’all. The #1 seed moves on with very little trouble at all.

Selection Friday

Alright, I’ve got it down to the top eight films.


The Boxleitner Bracket

1. The Saint
4. Eyes of the Werewolf

3. Mazes and Monsters
2. Jason X

The Voight Bracket

1. Showgirls
4. Judgement

3. The Cell
2. Starship Troopers

Now, I know some people will say the committee snubbed Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Congo, and Anaconda. Others will say that it’s not a tournament without Boa vs. Python or the immortal classic C.H.U.D II: Bud the Chud. All I can say is that a number of factors were considered before deciding who was in and who was out. It is also important to point out that putting an actual Grieco film in would just be unfair to the rest of the field.

I wish I could give you real brackets, but that would require all kinds of work. Look for the opening round game between the 1 and 4 seeds from the Boxleitner Bracket on Monday. Lot of superstars out there, people. It should be bold. Oh, the person with the winning bracket wins the respect and admiration of his peers.

Selection Friday

Alright, I’ve got it down to the top eight films.


The Boxleitner Bracket

1. The Saint
4. Eyes of the Werewolf

3. Mazes and Monsters
2. Jason X

The Voight Bracket

1. Showgirls
4. Judgement

3. The Cell
2. Starship Troopers

Now, I know some people will say the committee snubbed Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Congo, and Anaconda. Others will say that it’s not a tournament without Boa vs. Python or the immortal classic C.H.U.D II: Bud the Chud. All I can say is that a number of factors were considered before deciding who was in and who was out. It is also important to point out that putting an actual Grieco film in would just be unfair to the rest of the field.

I wish I could give you real brackets, but that would require all kinds of work. Look for the opening round game between the 1 and 4 seeds from the Boxleitner Bracket on Monday. Lot of superstars out there, people. It should be bold. Oh, the person with the winning bracket wins the respect and admiration of his peers.

Grieco Madness

March Madness is upon us. Thank God. My love of basketball and bad films can finally come together. I am working on a Big Dance that will separate the truly Grieco from the somewhat laughable. Now, I cannot set up a tournament of 64 films. Afterall, despite popular opinion, I do have something of a life. However, I can pit the 8 greatest bad films of all time against each other in head-to-head competition. Tomorrow will be selection Friday, and I will break down the entire field. I know some of you will feel as though certain films were snubbed, and others will probably complain about the seeding. I can only say that the selection committee is doing its very best to bring in movies that best represent what GIK is all about. I can also say that all of you bastards who think Texas can beat Duke are living in a freaking dream world.

I Could See Y'all if My Horizon Wasn't So Blind

Man, I heard about this burger that replaces the bun with two Krispy Kreme doughnuts. At first, I threw up in my mouth a little, but then I became really intrigued. I mean a burger donut. These truly are magical times in which we live.

Blind Horizon
I can’t really explain the sheer mess that is Blind Horizon, but I shall do my best. First, try to imagine a movie that was shot by a film student who wanted to make an episode of “24” in the style of Memento while he was watching old Metallica videos and thumbing through The Bourne Identity. Next, picture Kilmer in all his resplendent glory doing his most ridiculous work since The Saint. OK, got it? Here we go.

Kilmer wakes up in the desert. He has been shot in the head, and he can’t remember anything. However, apparently when Val was researching amnesia for the role he accidentally flipped the medical encyclopedia to the section on autism, because he’s kind of playing Rainman up there. Anyway, he ends up in a hospital where sexy bad girl nurse Amy “Varsity Blues/Butterfly Effect” Smart takes care of him. She smokes in the hospital and has awesome lines like, “You know what I wanna do one day? Travel. You ever been to New Guinea?” As Kilmer recovers, he is visited by small town sheriff Sam Shepard, and believe me there’s nothing better than seeing a great American playwright take third billing in a low-budget, cut-rate thriller. Pieces of the past come back to Kilmer, and he starts ranting about a plot to kill the President of the United States. He even has a part where he figures things out in front of the mirror, which is fantastic because it gives Kilmer a chance to work with his greatest scene partner. Eventually, Neve Campbell shows up with this ridiculous page boy haircut, claiming to be Kilmer’s fiancée. This kind of bums him out as he is clearly falling in love with Amy Smart. As a solution, he does it to them both. (note: At this point, the esteemed Ghost of Gene Siskel was heard to remark, “Man, Kilmer’s getting all kinds of trim in this picture.”) Now, there are times when Kilmer seems to be clairvoyant and there are other times when he appears to be in The Manchurian Candidate, but I don’t want to get into all that. He remembers a covert-op called Rhombus and “Four Days to Rhombus” pops up on the screen. After like 35 minutes of pure nonsense, “Three Days to Rhombus” popped up, and The Ghost and I knew we had made a terrible mistake. I could spend hours pointing out horrible misfires like the dramatic shots of a cowboy hat falling through the air as the wailing banshee cries of the kickass Machine Head score play in the background, the bizarre pointless cuts to a scary clown in a hospital, or any of the other David Lynch-inspired scenes that are far more evocative of “heady” soft-core porn than “Twin Peaks.” Although, I’m pretty sure there is a heady soft-core porn called "Twin Peaks" out there. Alright, let’s wrap it up. After a freakout monologue and a drunken tequila scene worthy of his Julliard training, Kilmer realizes he was the one who was supposed to kill the President all along. Well, no shit. We figured that out when there were still like four days to Rhombus. In the end, Kilmer saves the day, Shepard shakes his head in amused disbelief, Neve (who turns out to be a gov’t agent) gets killed, and Kilmer runs off with Smart. All that and Faye Dunnaway has a cameo.

You don’t so much watch Blind Horizon, you survive it. In fact, about half way through the movie the lovely Sherpa and Obadiah bailed on us to look at shoes in a magazine. There seem to be some great new looks this season, so get ready ladies. Now, it kills me to say this about a Kilmer movie, but I have to give it 1-Grieco (see ratings). Let’s face it. When catching a glimpse of Amy Smart’s boob is the best thing about a film, you’re in some serious trouble. That being said, I challenge you all to at least check out some of the work Kilmer is doing in this piece. I actually believe he is playing an elaborate joke on all of us. Like he thinks it's totally hilarious that people shell out hard cash just to watch him dick around on screen. It’s either that, or he has a wicked coke habit to support.

Ratings

1-Grieco: There’s probably a re-run of “Full House” on. Watch that instead.

2-Griecos: Washed-up stars, watered-down action, and my friends are at work. What the hell.

3-Griecos: Bad religious symbolism abounds and the gunplay is damn near balletic. My Friday night is looking up.

4-Griecos: If Looks Could Kill. All I’m sayin’.

**If ever I should come across a film that rates 0-Griecos, may God have mercy on your soul.

Cow Baby

So I was all set to watch Blind Horizon, but two things occurred before I could make it happen. First, some crazy shit went down on “The Sopranos,” putting me in a state of heightened Italianess for the rest of the evening. Second, I remembered I taped Minotaur.

Minotaur
The ominous/soothing British lady voiceover that is apparently required for all fantasy films informs us that the queen of some ancient land got it on with a bull and gave birth to the Minotaur. OK, actually it was violently ripped from her womb and this awesome cow baby puppet thing “suckled on the blood of its mother.” The mighty beast grew and the prince of the land demanded an occasional sacrifice of eight youths to appease good old Minnie. The youths came from a village led by future GIK hall-of-famer Rutger Hauer. In order to stop the killing and perhaps to find some girl he once loved, Hauer’s son, Theseus (called Theo for the kids), throws his lot in with a group of youths destined for sacrifice so that he might take on the Minotaur. When Theo arrives at the home of the mighty Bull Man (Man Bull?) he actually finds Candyman sporting acrylic black nails, huffing some crazy gas from the horns of the beast, and spouting Lear-like soliloquies in his patented whisper/growl. Eventually, Theo and the others end up in the labyrinth and the hunter becomes the hunted. Or something like that. I don't know. Now, like all creatures of Darkness and low-budget films, the Minotaur mainly lurks in the shadows. However, when you do finally catch a glimpse of this papier mache/CGI combo prepare yourself for some serious impaling. Horn through the chest, horn through the mouth, horn through the skull; this Minotaur does it all. Theo and his crew do their best to stay alive while they, like all of us, start to lose their minds in the labyrinth. Just so you know they’re on their own down there, people. There’s no cute little Hoggle, wacky Muppets, or a crystal-ball-juggling/incredibly hair-sprayed Bowie to help them out. Anyway, in the end Theo blows up the Minotaur (you read that right) and then stabs the bovine demon with its own horn. Candyman dies, the sun shines, and according to the voiceover, “The reign of the Bull God was over.”

Man, Minotaur makes Manticore look like Frankenfish. There’s a very good chance this piece has just what you are looking for. There’s an actress who is the perfect combination of Rosario Dawson and Rae Dawn Chong, and a male lead who is way into that spit/drool style of acting. You know like Cruise does in Born on the Fourth of July? When a guy is willing to spit like that, you know he’s mastered his craft. Minotaur also has Candyman just playing the hell out of his role up there. During his “Fear” monologue I think he might have literally chewed some of the Styrofoam scenery. You’re gonna get some sweet cloven hoof shots, a level of gore that only the Sci Fi Channel is willing to bring you, and an omen-spouting leper, as well. That’s right, y’all. An omen-spouting leper. Fast-forward through the bullshit romances and other subplots, settle in, and enjoy the pure metal goodness of the vengeful Horned Army. 3-Griecos (see ratings).

Ratings

1-Grieco: There’s probably a re-run of “Full House” on. Watch that instead.

2-Griecos: Washed-up stars, watered-down action, and my friends are at work. What the hell.

3-Griecos: Bad religious symbolism abounds and the gunplay is damn near balletic. My Friday night is looking up.

4-Griecos: If Looks Could Kill. All I’m sayin’.

**If ever I should come across a film that rates 0-Griecos, may God have mercy on your soul.

Minotaur Watch!

I know I promised a review of Blind Horizon this week, but I have been so distraught over the outcome of “Project Runway” that I haven’t been able to focus. I will get it back together this weekend and have the Kilmer/Shepard amnesia piece review for you on Monday. I did want you all to know that the SciFi channel, in what will surely be a bold follow-up to Manticore, is debuting their original film, Minotaur, tomorrow. To get everyone in the mood they are also showing Gargoyles: Wings of Darkness and Chupacabra: Dark Seas, so cancel those Saturday night plans and settle down for some small-screen movie magic.

For God, Country, and Grieco.

The Truth Shall Set Grieco Free

Now that you all know I haven’t seen The Chronicles of Riddick I figured I might as well come clean about some other films I have failed to see. The fact that I have missed some of these pictures brings me great shame. However, there are others on the list that I will avoid until the End Times which, according to the Kirk Cameron show I caught late last night, may already be upon us.

Die Hard With a Vengeance
Sorry, Bruce. Samuel L., I have nothing to say to you.

Titanic
Yeah that’s right, James Cameron. I didn’t see your precious boat movie.

Schindler’s List
I know, I know. I’m a horrible freaking person.

Gone With the Wind
What? You got something to say about it? I swear I will not sit through this clearly overrated, overblown soap opera until my girlfriend makes me.

Poison Ivy
Not the Michael J. Fox/Nancy McKeon summer camp movie from the ‘80s. I mean, I’ve seen the shit out of that one. I’ve also seen Poison Ivy 2 with the ever-lovely Alyssa Milano, but I have never gotten around to checking out the original.

Robocop 3
Yes, there's a Robocop 3.

Rambo III
I’ve never admitted that to anyone. I feel as though a huge weight has been lifted.

Dances with Wolves
I made a promise to the Ghost of Gene Siskel that I would watch this Costner epic, and so it shall be done.

Friday the 13th Parts V, VI, and IX
VII, VIII, X, and Freddy vs. Jason were awesome though.

Conan The Destroyer
Seriously, how have I not seen this movie? I’ve seen Red Sonja like 10 times and Kull the Conqueror more than I care to admit.

Speed
Oh my God, I can’t believe I just said that. I have lied about seeing this movie on countless occasions. I don’t know why. The lie gains me nothing. I am truly despicable. I mean not seeing Schindler’s List is one thing, but staring your friends in the face and saying, “Of course I’ve seen Speed. What do you think I’ve been living in a goddamn cave for the past decade?” is just the worst. No. What’s worse is the fact that I have seen Speed 2. Oddly, I could follow along without any problem.

I know there are more out there, but I have to go cleanse my sins. Perhaps in the waters of Lake Minnetonka. Purple Rain. Now that’s a movie I’ve seen. Seriously. I’ve seen it. You can totally quiz me.

Grieco in 30 Seconds

When I was in theatre school our professors used to tell us that directors knew if they were going to cast us after only 30 seconds of our audition. This has always disturbed me because I feel like I don’t really tap in until at least the two or three-minute mark. Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. I was thinking about the 30-second rule last night, and I decided to see if it could be applied to our work here at GIK. I chose 5 movies that leapt out at me from the guide and tuned into each for half a minute. I came into all of them at random moments and created reviews based on what I saw. Some might call this a bold scientific experiment. Others might suggest that I got a little messed up on A Brave New World pills and just couldn’t focus long enough to actually watch an entire film. I leave the decision up to you.

Code Red: The Rubicon Conspiracy
Every time I think I have come up with the most ridiculous title and plot for a movie, the Sci-Fi channel proves me wrong. I tuned into a scene that could have been straight out of Predator if the alien didn’t look like his “armor” was made from a combination of catcher’s equipment and low-rent S&M gear. I caught two lines of dialogue: “This is getting weirder and weirder,” and “It’s the ship the cyborg arrived in.” Man, the glue the execs over at SciFi sniff must just be primo. (3 ½-Griecos)

Lost & Found
The moment I flipped over to this film, Sophie Marceau greeted David Spade and asked, “What are you all dressed up for?” Spade shockingly responded with, “Road trip.” I can only assume he and Marceau then hopped into a car in order to save an election or a factory or to find Spade’s estranged family. Along the way they probably ran into a band of crazy characters and Spade and his car suffered a series of humiliations. In the end, I’m pretty sure they saved the day and the two of them learned that despite their differences they really are good together. Then something wacky happened and the credits roled. Look, even if they don’t actually go on a trip of any kind, I just have the feeling that this movie totally sucks. (1-Grieco).

True Crime
Kevin Dillon and a bespectacled Alicia Silverstone sit around and devise some sort of plan for some kind of thing while vaguely noirish music plays. Then she says something like “I’m not pretty,” then he says “you’re beautiful,” and then they make out. I know absolutely nothing about this movie, but I’m going with 2-Griecos. It seems like one of those films that takes itself way too seriously, and Silverstone hasn’t turned in a decent performance since Clueless. And don’t even get me started on Kevin Dillon. Hanging out with that damn Adrian Grenier. Man, I hate that kid.

Striptease
What the hell is Burt Reynolds doing? Somebody, for the love of God, please tell me what the hell Burt Reynolds is doing. (3-Griecos)

The Chronicles of Riddick
I clicked over just as Vin Diesel started to battle these metal-clad warrior dudes who have Matrix-like moves. Not a single line of dialogue was spoken. It was totally awesome. The fact that I have not seen this movie just makes me sick. I feel as though I have let all of you down, but more importantly, I’ve let myself down. Like that time I dropped out of my Frisbee class in college because 9:30 AM was just too damn early. Frisbee class, y’all. (4-Griecos)

If any of you have seen the above films please weigh in with your opinions and let me know how close I got. See the ratings below if you’re new to the world of Grieco or if you just don't have what it takes to retain simple pieces of information.

Ratings

1-Grieco: There’s probably a re-run of “Full House” on. Watch that instead.

2-Griecos: Washed-up stars, watered-down action, and my friends are at work. What the hell.

3-Griecos: Bad religious symbolism abounds and the gunplay is damn near balletic. My Friday night is looking up.

4-Griecos: If Looks Could Kill. All I’m sayin’.

**If ever I should come across a film that rates 0-Griecos, may God have mercy on your soul.

A Quick Update

I just wanted everybody to know that Blind Horizon (winner of the Netflix vote post) is en route to my home and will be reviewed later this week. I was also able to reserve Karate Dog, but it is unavailable at this time. I can only assume that means that someone (perhaps you) has it at home and is watching it over and over, refusing to send it back. I totally respect that. I’ll let you know when they send it out.

Fight for Grieco, and Grieco will fight for thee.

Grieco Snubbed

Dear Members of the Academy:

I see once again that you, The Hollywood Elite, have completely ignored the work of Grieco. While you were busy handing out awards to anyone who cobbled together some politically-charged or socially-conscious claptrap, Grieco was busting his ass making movies for the people. What’s that you say? Grieco didn’t make any movies during 2005? Well, I guess you failed to catch a little film I like to call Forget About It. Had you watched it you would have seen some bold Italian stereotypes put forth not only by Grieco, but by Burt Reynolds and the future star of Bts’s and my gripping drama “The Statistician,” Robert Loggia. But you know what? It’s not just about this year. What about last year when you didn’t even bother to open the copies of Grieco’s Dead Easy that I sent you. Look, I didn’t see the movie either, but I think it’s some kind of cat and mouse piece full of intrigue and pure awesomeness, so it’s your loss. Your anti-Grieco tendencies can even be traced back all the way to ought-one when you skipped over the performances of Grieco, Dice Clay, Ice T, Gremlins’s Zach Galligan, and legendary Skid Row front man, Sebastian Bach, in the brilliant Point Doom. That’s right, Point F’ing Doom. Did its sleazy agents and exposure of the dark underbelly of LA nightlife hit a little too close to home? Or was its seemingly $20.00 budget just too damn real for you?

What’s that Academy? You say this year’s winners in the male acting categories are more deserving than Grieco? Bullshit, I say! Pure bullshit. Let’s look at Best Supporting Actor, George Clooney. Please. Grieco was the sexiest man alive when Clooney was still sportin’ a mullet on “The Facts of Life” trying to get Blair to bang him in the back of the bookstore. That brings us to Best Actor, Phillip Seymour Hoffman. OK, so I can’t say anything bad about him. I mean, everything that guy does is gold. But ask yourself this Academy; does Phillip Seymour Hoffman have a blog dedicated to him that’s run by a somewhat crazed, incredibly bored 30 year-old who spends all of his free time watching crappy movies and yelling at the TV because he’s positive that if he could just get somebody to read his screenplay about the Russian sub captain and the hairdresser who open up a small clothing boutique together in SoHo he would be totally famous? No. No, he does not. And if Phillip Seymour Hoffman doesn’t have that going for him, how could he possibly be worthy of an Oscar?

In closing, I would like to thank the members of the Academy. That’s right. Thank you. Thank you for proving once again that, despite your best efforts, Grieco will not simply go away. Nay! He will never go quietly into the night no matter how many times you pass him over. For now, even as you are snubbing him on this most special of eves, he is in post-production for Raiders of the Damned which is going to blow your freakin’ minds, and he is in pre-production for a piece entitled The Ghost Riders. It’s about dead outlaws who return from the depths of hell to wreak havoc upon a small town, so suck on that. If you ignore either of those films you might as well just be the Independent Spirit Awards.

Sincerely,

Michael Corben

P.S. Please find a copy of Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow: The Hunt for Dreads October enclosed. Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Profiles in Grieco (Part II)

For the second installment of this groundbreaking series, I present a man that I am sure you are all familiar with. He is an actor that can say more with his 5:00 shadow than most can with a 2-page monologue. His name has come up more than once recently at GIK, and I thought it was time we gave him his proper due.

Michael Biehn
Biehn is best known for his nearly identical performances as Reese and Hicks in The Terminator and Aliens, respectively. (note: these are not to be confused with his role in The Abyss, which is totally different because it’s underwater.) In both movies he plays a badass from the future who has what it takes to woo a tough chick from the past (Linda Hamilton and Sigourney Weaver). He also has the right combination of raw machismo and sensitivity to battle an evil robot or evil aliens before dying or getting severely wounded before the last scene, allowing the ladies to finish the job. However, Biehn is more than just a futuristic Lieutenant or Corporal. He’s also a modern-day Navy Seal. Or at least he was in Navy Seals (clearly a 3 ½ -Grieco film) and The Rock (easily 4-Griecos). Biehn also appears in what is perhaps the most GIK-worthy film of all time; Megiddo: The Omega Code 2. Seriously, it’s like a remake of Omega Code 1, but it ignores all the stuff that Casper Van Dien accomplished battling the Antichrist in the original. I dare you to watch them back-to-back. Bts and I took it on once, and we were never quite the same. Anyway, back to Biehn. While I love all of his sci-fi work (including his “Head of FEMA” role in the made-for-television hit, Asteroid), my favorite Biehn performance is that of Johnny Ringo in Tombstone. The scene where he and Doc Holliday (Kilmer at his most brilliant) have a battle of wits in Latin is one of the greatest moments in the history of the world. Overstatement? Peshaw! Try to name 3 things that are better. You can’t.

Like Joe Don Baker, Biehn’s role in Hollywood is slowly disappearing. People just don’t have the balls to deal with what Biehn is brining anymore. He is, in many ways, the classic rock to Grieco’s glam. Would Grieco exist without him? Probably. But he wouldn’t kick near as much ass and his hair wouldn’t look half as cool.

#5-0

Yesterday marked the 50th posting of GIK. Let’s be honest. No one (myself included) thought I would make it past 8. But here we are. Face to face. A couple of silver spoons. You know, just like trying to find our peace of mind and whatnot. Anyway, I thought we should do something special to commemorate the first 50 posts. Initially, I thought we could do some sort of clip show. Like, “Hey. You guys remember when we talked about dragons? That was cool,” or “Hey. You guys remember when we exposed Ethan Hawke for the douchebag fraud that he is? That was awesome.” I’ve always thought that clip shows were kind of a copout though, so I decided against it. Besides, we shouldn’t dwell on what is behind us, we should look forward. Always forward. I was stuck. I had nothing. Then, I took my “medicine” for my “knee pain” and things started to fall into place. I remembered that when I was young Mad (Magazine not TV) used to do these clever articles like “Dental Visits We’d Like to See” or “Fishing Trips We’d Like to See.” I decided that’s the kind of thing we need around here. Sure, there are a lot of Grieco-type films out there, but we need more. We need to inspire those who come after us to create films that have no business being created. So, in honor of the first 50 posts and with apologies to the good people at Mad, I give you “GIK Movies We’d Like to See.”

Terrordactyl
Christopher Lambert plays a grizzled old fighter pilot who is teaching a young hot shot, James van der Beek, how to cut the sky in half. In a dramatic twist, just as he is about to pass the secret of flight onto Beek, a giant flying dinosaur swoops out of the sky and devours Lambert’s plane. Beek must then lead a group of attractive young pilots (Jessica Biel will play Lt. Thora “Lady Nightshade” Mitchell) against the invading army of airborne lizards.

Pale Moon Waning
This macabre tale finds Crispin Glover at odds with his amputee father and the ghost of his dead brother. In order to free the world of sin and walk hand-and-hand with his true love (Fairuza Balk), Crispin must reenact the Stations of the Cross at the local county fair with a group of mentally challenged children.

A Tuppence of Tea
This brilliant romantic comedy finds Kate Hudson falling for Jake Gyllenwhatever. At first they fight, but after a couple of monologues they realize they’re soul mates, and everything ends perfectly. Even for Steve Zahn and Parker Posey who play their wacky friends.

Planetron 3327: The Delta Omega Initiative
Fascist robots rule the Earth. An aging Cameron Diaz and her alien/cat hybrid, Malook, must journey to Parsec 13 to retrieve the mythical Phalanx Crystal that will transport them back to 2008 to stop the rise of the machines. A 25 year-old Dako Fa Fa lights up the screen as the young Diaz in director James "King of the World" Cameron’s long-awaited follow up to Titanic. In the end, we realize that Diaz/Fa Fa is herself a robot, causing us all to once again marvel at Cameron’s genius. Seriously, this jagoff must be destroyed. Stop sending miniature freaking submarines to further explore the wreckage of the damn ship. We get it. You’re totally rich and you can do whatever the hell you want. Oooh, there are still some antique plates down there, and oh what a story they tell. Sorry. I just can’t stand that guy. He cut Biehn out of T2 and that is just unforgivable.

Thank you all for reading and commenting on the first 50. I don’t know what the future holds for GIK, but I do know this; Together. We’re gonna find our way. You and I. Together. Woo…hoo…hoo.

The Case of Liberty v. Daughter

A friend of mine went to high school with the daughter of a U.S. President. This always intrigued me, and I never shied away from asking my friend the big questions like; Was she cool? Did your mom offer the secret service agents something cold to drink when they came over? Does the movie theater in the White House look like it does on “The West Wing?" Even though my friend answered all of these questions, I still felt like I didn’t really understand what it was like to be a young girl growing up on Pennsylvania Ave. Luckily, within like the last year, two major studies on the subject have been released in the forms of First Daughter and Chasing Liberty. They gave me the insight I so desperately needed. I have watched them both and chosen one to review, so you don’t have to make the tough decision on your own.

While Katie Holmes’s unpregnant, monotone, clench-jawed, slightly lazy-eyed portrayal of a young girl trying to balance the pressures of politics with the pressures of frat parties in First Daughter is everything you’d expect from the future mother of our alien overlord, Mandy Moore’s Chasing Liberty is somehow both a more Grieco and more watchable movie.

Chasing Liberty
The virginally pure, perfect-skinned Mandy Moore plays Anna (call sign, Liberty) who is tired of her overprotective Presidential father who, thank God, is played by the incomparable Mark Harmon. Seriously, the man is in Summer School and he is the uncle of Matthew and Gunnar “After the Rain” Nelson. Anyway, to shake off the shackles of tyranny Moore goes to Europe to party with the daughter of the French ambassador who is how you say, a tramp. While in Prague, sweet little Mandy ditches her secret service detail and runs off with a dreamy Brit. Turns out he’s actually an agent working undercover for the President who wants his daughter to feel like she is out on her own. After Mandy takes off her clothes and goes skinny dipping (yes, I feel like a dirty old man), Harmon sends two agents, Jeremy Piven and the lovely Annabella Sciorra, to bring her in. Instead of going along, Mandy flees and ends up dragging the Brit across Europe. Eventually they fall in love, with Piven and Sciorra playing Benedict and Beatrice to their Claudio and Hero. Or is it Touchstone and Audrey to their Orlando and Rosalind? I can never keep those crazy lovers straight. Anyway, after they totally do it, Mandy and the Brit head to Berlin for the “Love Parade.” Call me an asshole, but parades in Germany just seem sinister even if they do have the word “love” in the title. While there, Mandy discovers the Brit’s true identity and she starts talking about “trust” and other nonsense that 18 year-old girls believe in. The Brit responds with the old it-started-out-as-a-job-but-something-happened-along-the-way-
and-now-I’m-in-love-with-you speech, but Mandy’s not having it, so she takes off and starts what is like the ninth chase scene of the film. She gets mixed up with some dickhead American tourists and some Eurotrash, but the Brit saves her before things can turn ugly. Mandy flies off in a helicopter and the two young lovers are parted before they can reconcile. Don’t shed those tears yet. Months later, Mandy finds out that the Brit quit his job as an agent because he was “more passionate about something else.” She goes to London to find him, and they kiss as Nessun Dorma swells in the background. Now you can cry.

Look, there’s no reason to ever see Chasing Liberty, but I’m gonna say this. Piven raps in Hebrew, there’s some Tom Petty during the opening credits, Harmon is the smoothest cat this side of Redford, and I don’t know if it’s just my current “getting back in touch with my Italian roots” thing, but Sciorra seems to have gotten much hotter with age. There’s also something so non-threatening about Mandy Moore that I just can’t help but like her. I’m going to give it 2-Griecos (see ratings), but it’s a hey-that’s-alright kind of 2-Griecos, not an I- can’t-believe-I-sat-through-this-shit-and-they-didn’t-kill-off-Ed Burns kind of 2-Griecos.

Ratings

1-Grieco: There’s probably a re-run of “Full House” on. Watch that instead.

2-Griecos: Washed-up stars, watered-down action, and my friends are at work. What the hell.

3-Griecos: Bad religious symbolism abounds and the gunplay is damn near balletic. My Friday night is looking up.

4-Griecos: If Looks Could Kill. All I’m sayin’.

**If ever I should come across a film that rates 0-Griecos, may God have mercy on your soul.

Fjarskanistan Hemipode Skakka Blaskjar

I saw Sigur Ros last night. It was an awesome show. I mean it was so good I felt some DXM from three years ago kicking back in. If they are coming to a concert hall near you, you should definitely check them out. However, I am here today to talk about the opening act, Amina. These four lovely ladies of the North, these Icelandic faerie folk, these sweet daughters of the Frost played the saw, glasses of water, the glockenspiel, violin, cello, the vibes, the Apple computer, the Casio, and some small stringed instrument I had never seen before. They did it all, and it was all beautiful. After they finished their set, they played on almost all of Sigur Ros’s tunes. Give them a listen if you haven’t heard them. http://www.aminamusik.com/.

I promise I’ll get back to Grieco tomorrow. I’m actually planning on spending the rest of the day trying to figure out if Katie Holmes or Mandy Moore makes a better President’s daughter. I’ll let you know how it turns out.

The Tryptophan Parallel

I had another dream last night. Sasha Cohen and I were talking about how disappointed we were that she won the silver instead of the gold in figure skating. I said it was alright though, and that it wasn’t nearly as sad as the Russian girl not winning, because according to her “athlete profile” she has a really hard life and Sasha’s biggest problem seems to be having to decide which “Project Runway” designer’s leotard to wear. Sasha smiled, said I was right, did a triple lutz, and flew away on a unicorn. Things took a turn for the worse when Harrison Ford showed up, earring and all, and told me that They were after us. It seems Harrison and I had stumbled onto a software program that would simultaneously launch all of the nuclear weapons in the world. Harrison, crafty senior citizen that he is, stole the program and arranged for our departure out of the U.S. As we scurried through back-lot-style alleys we were met by John Malkovich wearing an eye patch and calling himself “Le Rouge.” I thought that, like in Johnny English, his French accent seemed strained, especially for someone who lives in France. Before I could voice my opinion, John grabbed Harrison and me and led us up a fire escape into one of those rooms in a run-down housing project that contains all of the latest computers and high-tech gadgetry. Once inside, Seth Green (my arch nemesis) and Jamie Kennedy (Seth’s arch nemesis) looked at us through their wraparound yellow shades and told us we were being tracked via satellite. Michael Clarke Duncan then emerged from the darkness and ripped out one of my teeth. It was too late. We could hear choppers circling overhead and the voice of Kevin Spacey (calling himself “The Mentalist”) telling us that there was no escape. Legions of gun-toting Navy Seals led by Michael Biehn descended down those cool ropes towards us and crashed through the window. Seth and Jamie screamed and then said something clever, and Malkovich spouted off a Russian proverb in Greek. Gun drawn, Biehn made his way towards me. Then, as he was about to pull the trigger…the damn baby from the apartment above mine started crying. Man, that kid and his whole f’ing family are so loud. I hate them. When I finally fell asleep again I was in the back of a limo covered in Malkovich’s blood, yelling “Whyyyy?!” Harrison said there would be time to grieve later, but now we had to head to an ancient volcano with the only fires hot enough to destroy the nuclear weapon software. It sounded like a good plan, so I grabbed my cloak and war hammer and prepared for the journey. Jesus Christ! Will you please stop crying! Where are your parents? Where are your goddamn parents? Now I’ll never get back to---I stood over Harrison’s American-flag-draped coffin. The president, who looked a lot like Tom Skerritt does when he doesn’t wear a mustache, wept openly. Le Rouge’s patch covered my left eye and the lock of hair the beautiful Belarusian spy had given me was clutched in my hand. My loss was great, but it had been worth it. The world was safe once again. I quickly jetted off to Tahiti for some much deserved R&R. Everything was going to be alright. If only I had seen Rutger Hauer lurking by the swim-up bar.

Claire Huxtable was right. I gotta lay off these late-night turkey sandwiches.

Profiles in Grieco (Part I)

If you’re a regular GIK reader you know that I am a big fan of The Olympics. One of my favorite parts of the games is the “athlete profiles” they do every night. These segments give you the chance to see all of the pain and suffering competitors have endured in order to take the ice in Torino or Turin or whatever the hell we’re calling it these days. Watching the profiles has helped me invest in athletes I’ve never heard of who hail from countries I’m not sure really exist. The profiles have also made me long for the mighty hammer and sickle of the former Soviet Union, but that’s another story altogether. Anyway, I thought it might be a good idea to profile some of the lesser-known performers who make appearances on GIK from time to time. While I don’t know if they fought back from a torn Achilles or battled unspeakable cold and hunger to become actors, I do know a little about their movie histories. Some of you will be familiar with the men and women of the profiles, and others will have no idea who I am talking about. Regardless, I hope you all gain a greater appreciation for their work. I also intend to carry this bit on beyond The Olympics, so if there is someone you think the people need to know about please let me know.

Joe Don Baker
Joe Don Baker plays a cocky Texas asshole like no one else. His work as the police chief in Fletch helped to make that film one of the greatest of all time. You might also remember Joe Don from the few Bond movies where he plays boorish Americans who end up either betraying or helping 007 in some way depending on the movie. While the that fact that he is in Congo, Mars Attacks, Eddie Murphy’s The Distinguished Gentleman, and the immortal Leonard Part 6 elevates him to an elite level in the world of Grieco, it is his portrayal of the Babe Ruth-like “Bomber” in The Natural that will always endear Joe Don Baker to me. He’s only in the movie for like 10 minutes, but his swagger and spitting are unparalleled. He manages to steal scenes from Redford and Duvall, and that is saying something because Duval is awesome and Redford is almost as damn handsome as Rob Lowe. Almost. Joe Don is so good in the film I can actually forgive him for his participation in Reality Bites.

As Hollywood continues to rely on hot young stars with their rock-hard abs and humorless outlook on life, the sun is setting on the likes of Joe Don Baker. I encourage you to check out all of his work before it is too late, and watch for Strange Wilderness, the Bigfoot comedy he’s currently working on with Harry Hamlin and Ernest Borgnine. It should be awesome.

Ain't You Seen My Movies?

I mentioned in an earlier post that my mom loves movies and will pretty much see anything. Well, my parents were in town this weekend and for some reason my mom really wanted to check out Freedomland. I didn’t know much about the movie, but I thought it might be alright. After all, Julianne Moore is in it, and she’s one of my favorite actresses. She’s also super hot. Needless to say, things didn’t pan out. In fact, Freedomland is so bad that I am breaking with tradition and reviewing a movie that is actually out in theaters.

Freedomland
At what point did people start talking about Samuel L. Jackson like he is a good actor? I mean, I guess he was solid in Pulp Fiction if sporting a mean 'fro and spouting witty diologue real fast constitutes a performance. Anyway, let’s never speak of that movie again for fear that every girl I went to college with will suddenly get up en masse and start dancing to that damn “Son of a Preacher Man." Samuel L. is just plain terrible. That’s all there is to it, y'all. He seems like a cool guy and he can clearly kick my ass, but that does not make him talented. Seriously, I cheered when Mace Windu got killed, and I’m one of those dorks who always roots for the good guys. In Freedomland, Jackson's random “asthma” attacks are some of the most ridiculous scenes you will ever see. My girlfriend, who has asthma, actually busted out laughing at them so hard she started wheezing. He also wears these break-away eye glasses that are the most off-putting prop since Julia Stiles in The Bourne Identity. Unfortunately, Julianne Moore isn’t much better than Jackson in this piece. I don’t know what went wrong, but her cheap wig, bad New Jersey accent, and all-over-the-place performance are reflections of the film as a whole. It’s as though the director tried to make eight different movies and they all suck. Edie Falco does decent work, but I think if you watch closely you can see her cringe every time Moore opens her mouth. I mean, Falco knows what Jersey is about. She’s into Jovi. The obscure stuff, too. Not just the hits.

I’m giving Freedomland 1-Grieco (see ratings), but if it makes your mom happy you should go see it with her anyway.

Ratings

1-Grieco: There’s probably a re-run of “Full House” on. Watch that instead.

2-Griecos: Washed-up stars, watered-down action, and my friends are at work. What the hell.

3-Griecos: Bad religious symbolism abounds and the gunplay is damn near balletic. My Friday night is looking up.

4-Griecos: If Looks Could Kill. All I’m sayin’.

**If ever I should come across a film that rates 0-Griecos, may God have mercy on your soul.

Kilmer, Talking Dog in Heated Race

Well, it looks as though Kev's last minute vote tipped the race in favor of Blind Horizon, so I will move it to the top of my Netflix list. However, what kind of man would I be if I passed up the opportunity to watch Karate Dog? Look for a review of Voight's work and Chevy Chase's canine voiceover skills in the near future. I appreciate the comments, and as my good friend The Ghost of Gene Siskel said to me, there were strong arguments on both sides. I will say I am a little hurt that the Grieco film didn't receive a single vote. I can only assume that that is because all of you have already seen Evil Breed: The Legend of Samhain and you don't need me to review it for you.

Many Many Movies

I was perusing my Netflix catalog last night in a desperate attempt to find the perfect film to bring to GIK. I was able to narrow my list down to four, but I could use your help in picking the first one to watch. I have provided the stars and a brief description of what I believe to be the plot of each movie. Please let me know which one to put at the top of my queue.

Evil Breed: The Legend of Samhain
Starring: Richard Grieco and a bunch of porn stars.

A group of sexy ladies run into trouble and Grieco when they come upon a Samhain festival and some cannibals.

Blind Horizon
Starring: Val Kilmer, Neve Campbell, and the great Sam Shepard

Kilmer suffers from amnesia after taking a blow to the head, but he remembers enough to know that there is a plot to assassinate the president. Reunites Thunderheart costars, Shepard and Kilmer.

Raptor
Starring: Corbin Bernsen

Through the work of a mad scientist, Raptors live again and terrorize a small town. Promises some awesome effects and the kind of work that only Bernsen can deliver.

The Karate Dog
Starring: Jon Voight... and Chevy Chase as the voice of Cho Cho

The dog can talk to people and kick the asses of unsuspecting criminals, kung-fu style. Did I mention that Chase is the voice of Cho Cho?


I know not all of you are fond of leaving comments, but I could really use some help. I mean, I don’t want to screw up something as important as this.

Prometheus Unhooked

Since I turned 30 I’ve been going through a whole putting things into perspective phase. This involves watching a lot of ‘80s videos and accepting the fact that I will never be toasted as the Lone Prince of Eurasia as I had once hoped. Looking at things this way has made me realize that my life is pretty good. I have a decent job that doesn’t require me to wear real pants, I have a hot girlfriend, and I have a love of metal that will never die. Despite all of this, though, I still feel like something is missing. Would I like more money? Sure. Would I like to live in an apartment complex that isn’t littered with Dos Equis bottles and the stink of failure? You know it. But cash and a nice home won’t fill the void. There’s only one thing that can truly bring me peace, and I discovered it last night; a film about a genetically-altered fish that will surely terrorize all of mankind if it is not destroyed by a brave group of multi-cultural heroes.

Frankenfish
First off, if you know somebody at the Sci-Fi Channel please let me know. They will clearly put anything on TV, and I think my screenplay about a caveman from the future who hunts and kills politicians using only his keen sense of smell and the Kraft singles he found in a time capsule is right up their alley.

OK. Frankenfish has everything you could possibly want in a film. There’s gratuitous vomit, pontoon boats, decapitations, a wise old mystic woman with two different colored eyes who talks about the curse that has been put upon her land, and a fish that will fly out of the water and simply rip you to shreds until the marshlands run red with your blood. There are also some awesome “backwoods” stereotypes and my new favorite actress, the lovely Ms. China Chow. Ultimately, Frankenfish is like Anaconda minus the budget, Voight’s accent, and the consummate professionalism of one Jennifer Lopez, but with some Manticore-worthy effects thrown in. Watch the opening and then fast forward to the part where you finally catch a glimpse of the fish in all its glory, and you won’t be disappointed. I’m giving it 2 ½ -Griecos (see ratings). The extra ½ is for the requisite there-might-be-a-sequel-because-the-demon-fish-had-babies shot at the end.

Ratings

1-Grieco: There’s probably a re-run of "Full House" on. Watch that instead.

2-Griecos: Washed-up stars, watered-down action, and my friends are at work. What the hell.

3-Griecos: Bad religious symbolism abounds and the gunplay is damn near balletic. My Friday night is looking up.

4-Griecos: If Looks Could Kill. All I’m sayin’.

**If ever I should come across a film that rates 0-Griecos, may God have mercy on your soul.

The Gospel According to Grieco

Hold onto your hats. It’s about to get Grieco in here.

Book of Days
Book of Days opens with Wil Wheaton’s character, Danny Heartland (it’s so easy I’m just gonna let it go), marrying a girl who was left at an orphanage as a baby and raised by nuns. As they exit the wedding ceremony surrounded by said nuns, everyone is happy. Everyone, that is, except Isaac Hayes who lurks in the background looking like the lone wise black man in a group of naive white folks. In the limo, Wheaton’s wife says “I feel so alive,” and just like in Mothman Prophecies, you know they’re gonna get hit by a car. They do, and she dies, leaving Wheaton a widower on his wedding day. (note: Something similar like this occurred once on an episode of “Melrose Place” resulting in the death of Sydney who was played by the lovely Laura Leighton. The show was never the same.) Anyway, Wheaton is devastated and he lets us know with several angry “it must be really great to be God” monologues. His best friend, a blonde girl who is cute in that I’ve-loved-you-forever-maybe-I-can-help-you-forget-your-dead-wife-and-move-on-with-your-life kind of way tries to comfort him. You see, Wheaton is broke and his ruthless insurance salesman boss won’t pay up on Wheaton’s wife’s life insurance policy. Luckily, Isaac Hayes shows up and delivers an ancient book complete with mysterious names and dates. Twenty-five minutes and a visit to a priest later, Wheaton and the blonde come to the conclusion that I and the other three people in the world who have actually seen this movie reached from the get-go; the book contains the names of all of those who are living and the days on which they will die. In order to meet his newly-imposed sales quotas and to stick it to his boss, Wheaton uses the book to sell life insurance policies to people who will die soon, ensuring that their families will be taken care of and that his boss will have to cut many large checks. Things go as planned for a while, but then Wheaton discovers that one of his nun friends is set to die, and he decides that maybe he should be saving people instead of, you know, selling them insurance. He keeps the nun from dying, and it looks like everything is going to be alright. But, no. God, it seems, works in mysterious or at least dickheadish ways. For every year of life Wheaton gives a person, he loses a year of his own. He blew ten just on the nun. Meanwhile, the recent deaths of Wheaton’s clients have pissed off and alerted his boss who quickly sells him out to the cops. Wheaton is charged for murder and put in jail. Things are looking grim. Then, at approximately 54 minutes into the movie, I realize there truly is a God, and Grieco enters. Now, I was hoping Grieco would take on the role of The Almighty or Satan, but instead he struts in as the sleaziest insurance lawyer you can possibly imagine. His hair is so long and greasy it made me proud to be Italian. He plays golf in the office, shoots his steely gaze at no one in particular, and utters lines like “Your honor, we’re dealing with a possible serial killer here,” and “God: the elusive savior.” As the movie devolves into some unholy fusion of my 3rd grade CCD (that’s Catholic Sunday school for all of you WASPS out there) and a John Grisham novel, Grieco keeps it together with his unflinching cool and whatever pills I’m sure he popped in his trailer. The trial goes on and on and on, and Isaac Hayes starts handing out life lessons to everyone. I should point out that Hayes (his character is called Jonah) had the book before Wheaton, and when it came time for him to sacrifice his life to save Wheaton’s wife he couldn’t do it, so he has to find some sort of redemption. Finally, after the blonde (remember her) gets jailed for being in contempt of court, Wheaton says he will produce the book if they let her go. The judge agrees and the book is brought in. They find Wheaton’s client who is next on the list to die, believing that if she stays alive it will prove that Wheaton is guilty. She is pregnant, and wouldn’t you know, she starts to faint or convulse or something in the court room. She dies on the way to the hospital, but not before she gives birth and gets Wheaton’s nun friend to promise she’ll take care of the baby. Hang on now, we’re almost there. Back in court, Wheaton is found not-guilty, Grieco is pissed, and for some strange reason the judge decrees that Wheaton and his asshole boss will deliver the book to the National Archives where it will remain untouched for 200 years. Before he leaves, Wheaton realizes he loves the cute blonde, and he, she, and the nun (thank God she got those extra 10 years) will all help raise the baby of the woman who died. At the last minute, Isaac Hayes says he will take the book in place of Wheaton. Wheaton has to let the book go because, according to Hayes, “you gotta think on life, boy.” We then see shots of Wheaton and the blonde’s wedding while a Wheaton voiceover explains that Hayes saved Wheaton’s life and the life of the evil boss by taking the book himself. I guess the plane to the Archives was gong to go down or something. I don’t know. I was so doped up on prescripts and plot holes by the end of this thing I lost all sense of what was going on. All I know is that everybody is happy because God loves us and we shouldn’t question His choices, because if we had His love, power, and responsibility we would just freak out or, at least, start some sort of insurance scam.

In my first post I stated that the presence of Grieco gives a movie a 1 ½ -Grieco boost. In this film, he gets “special appearance by” billing. To me this is merely stating the obvious, as every appearance by Grieco is a special one, but it gets the extra points nonetheless which brings the total to 3-Griecos (see ratings). I’m gonna give it to you straight, y’all. Not everyone is cut out for Book of Days, but those of you who are (I’m talking to you b.t.s.) will love it. It has actually inspired me to dedicate an entire week (in the future) to Christian propaganda movies. We’ll put God on trial with Mr. T and Corbin Bernsen in Judgment, we’ll attempt to crack the Omega Code with Casper van Dien, and we at GIK will finally tell all of you if, like Kirk Cameron, you’ll be Left Behind. Now, as they say in the Catholic Church, “be excellent to each other….and party on.” Or is it "everything you have ever done is an affront to God." I can never remember.

Oh, one more thing. The vice president totally shot a dude.

Ratings

1-Grieco: There’s probably a re-run of Full House on. Watch that instead.

2-Griecos: Washed-up stars, watered-down action, and my friends are at work. What the hell.

3-Griecos: Bad religious symbolism abounds and the gunplay is damn near balletic. My Friday night is looking up.

4-Griecos: If Looks Could Kill. All I’m sayin’.

**If ever I should come across a film that rates 0-Griecos, may God have mercy on your soul.

The Shroud of Torino

Look, I know I promised a review of the bold Grieco/Wheaton piece for today, but I ended up spending the weekend at a fancy hotel where they gave us robes. Now, I’m a lazy man, but if you give me a robe, not a damn thing is getting done. When I finally did get home I was set to watch the film, but I got drawn into those winter Olympics. I love the luge, the drama, and those little outfits the ice skaters wear. This one pair from China skated to some bizarre instrumental version of Zeppelin’s "Kashmir," and I was hooked. After that, it was all downhill skiing and shots of my people. Sure, I’ve never been to Italy and the only thing I can say in Italian isn’t suitable for mixed company, but they’re my people nonetheless. Anyway, I promise to have the Grieco review for tomorrow, and I have got some other good stuff planned for the week (did somebody say Frankenfish?). In the meantime, if you have a robe, nowhere to go, and absolutely nothing to do, you should check out those Olympics. I hear the skeleton’s gonna be kickass.

Man, Work is Awesome

The Man has returned like the sonofabitch he is. I must work and put off the finer things in life for the next couple of days. However, I want you to know that my good friends at Netflix just sent me a quasi-spiritual piece starring the great Will Wheaton and, that's right, Richard effing Grieco. Grieco's back, y'all, and it's gonna get sexy. Look for the review on Monday, and enjoy the weekend.

On a personal note, I caught Grieco's cameo in A Night at The Roxburry last night. It made me feel whole again.

Speaking of Remakes

Checked out House of Wax last night. Man, did that movie suck. Yet, for some bizarre reason, I was entertained. Maybe it’s because I love B-horror films that create some melancholy back story (abused, separated Siamese twins in this case) to make up for their total lack of plot and structure, or maybe I have a little crush on Elishsa “Pink Panties” Cuthbert. I mean, she and Chad Michael Haircut from “One Tree Hill,” “Everwood,” or some other show that desperately wants to be “Dawson’s Creek” but can’t be, kind of work as hero twins battling the evil twins I mentioned earlier. Who knows, maybe the movie appealed to me because, at the end of the day, I find wax really creepy. Seriously, I have visited wax museums all over this great world of ours, and whether I’m looking at a replica of Stallone in his Apollo Creed U.S.A. trunks from Rocky IV or the original death masque of Marie Antoinette, I just get freaked out. Perhaps I liked it, because it made me nostalgic for the time when my friends and I went camping and decided to explore a deserted town, and, you know, sneaked around this guy’s house, checking out his medical tables, bone saws, and jarred horse embryos. I mean, what could possibly go wrong? We’re attractive young white people with hot early-20s sex and our whole lives ahead of us---Jesus Christ! My Achilles tendon! Oh my God! Oh sweet Lord! Why me? What have I done to deserve this? I only mocked those who were different! They were different…(gratuitous vomit/innards shot….and cut away.)

Sorry. You know what? This is all bullshit. I liked House of Wax, because I got to see Paris Hilton’s head get piked, javelin-style. Now, how could you not enjoy that?

2 ½-Griecos (see ratings).

Ratings

1-Grieco: There’s probably a re-run of "Full House" on. Watch that instead.

2-Griecos: Washed-up stars, watered-down action, and my friends are at work. What the hell.

3-Griecos: Bad religious symbolism abounds and the gunplay is damn near balletic. My Friday night is looking up.

4-Griecos: If Looks Could Kill. All I’m sayin’.

**If ever I should come across a film that rates 0-Griecos, may God have mercy on your soul.

Have You Checked the Children?

I went to go see the remake of When a Stranger Calls last night. I liked it, and it scared me, and yes, Kev, the new girl is much hotter than Carol Kane. I love Carol Kane, though, so I’m not gonna get into all that. Anyway, before the movie I saw a preview for this horrible retelling of Twelfth Night called She’s the Man. I also got some info from the aforementioned Kev about a remake of The Omen (one of my favorite movies) that is coming out soon. Let’s face it, people. We all know Hollywood has gone mad with power with this whole remake thing. There was King Kong, The Longest Yard, Fun with Dick and Jane, The Steppford Wives, this travesty of a Pink Panther remake that’s set to pop, and all of the others that I’m sure I’m forgetting about. As I thought about all of this remake stuff while I was waiting for the remake to start, I got angry, because, well, I don’t have anything real to be angry about. In response to my rage, I decided to make a list, because, well, it was easier than watching a bad movie last night. So here are the worst remakes of our time. I know there are many that I have missed, so please let me know what needs to be added.

Worst Shakespeare Remake
O - There are so many movies that could make it in this category it seems wrong to settle on just one. Hawk’s Hamlet is horrendous, Baz Luhrmann’s William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet is just absurd, and Pacino in Looking for Richard is just one of the worst things you’ll ever see. That being said, I’m giving O the nod, even though it doesn’t use the original language. Hartnett’s smoldering “Hugo” is a disgrace to anyone who has ever even thought about reading a line of Iago’s. He’s so bad he almost makes Julia “Desi” Stiles look good. Almost.

Worst Remake of a Romantic Period Drama
Cruel Intentions – Dangerous Liaisons, like its source material, is a bold piece. I’m not saying it’s perfect or anything, but Malkovich and Close are great in it, and Michelle Pfeiffer is ridiculous hot. On the other hand, Ryan Phillippe in Cruel Intentions is parading around like he’s Leo DiCaprio or something. And trust me Ryan, according to a friend of mine, you’re no Leo DiCaprio. Selma Blair also takes on the Uma Thurman role, playing it like some sort of mentally challenged 13 year-old. Her performance defies all logic, and Gellar is just playing returned-from-the-grave-pissed-off Buffy up there.

Worst Remake of a Foreign Film
Vanilla Sky – Look, I haven’t even seen the original version of this movie, and I’m putting it on the list. The twist at the end makes The Village look like Psycho (the original, not the remake). Wait, sorry about that. Nothing could ever make The Village look good. Seriously, though, it has one of the worst “surprises” I have ever seen. Plus, they put Cruise in that ridiculous mask. Even if he’s batshit, you don’t hide the piercing gaze of Cruise, y’all. Oh, and Cameron Diaz and Penelope Cruz just look confused the whole time, and I’m pretty sure Kurt Russell thinks he’s reprising his role in Captain Ron.

Worst Remake of a Classic Horror Movie
The Bride – I know some people out there will be outraged that I placed a Jennifer Beals movie on the list. Please, don’t get me wrong, I love me some Beals, but not even her timeless good looks and ability to dance can save this remake of Frankenstein or The Bride of Frankenstein or whatever it is. The tragedy of the original is reduced to some weird sexual tension between Beals and Sting with some Pygmalion type stuff thrown in. However, Sting’s hair is pretty awesome in it, and the little person and the monster do good work.

Worst Remake of Planet of the Apes
Planet of the Apes – I like Burton as much as the next guy. Probably even more than the next guy, unless, of course, that guy is a pale wanderer of the night. That doesn’t change the fact that this remake just plain sucks. Estella Warren throws her hat in the ring as one of the worst actresses of all time. And why is her hair and makeup always perfect while everyone else looks like Peasant #3 in some production of the Passion Play? We don’t even need to bring up the whole monkey-Abe Lincoln thing. I mean the monkey monument had a beard, a hat, and everything, and that’s offensive to apes and Mr. Lincoln.

K.I.B.

I went to Carnaval this weekend. I have yet to recover. I will be back tomorrow. If there is a Carnaval celebration in your town, you should go. There are many attractive people and oh so many drums. So many drums.

Chapstick

During one of my many periods of unemployment in Chicago, a friend of mine got me a gig handing out menus for his restaurant. The money would be surprisingly good, and I was fairly confident I had what it took to pass out pieces of paper to people, so I was actually kind of excited. It was December, and it had started to get really cold, so I bundled up before I headed downtown to the restaurant. When I arrived, I met the manager. He thanked me for helping, and I said it was my pleasure, knowing that the money I was getting would keep me from having to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner for like the fifth night in a row. He handed me the menus, an apron, and one of those horrible, foot-high chef hats. The thought of the sweet KFC boneless wings I would soon be eating helped me get over the ridiculous costume, and I started to put the apron on. The manger stopped me and said something like, “You know, I really think the coat is going to take away from the outfit.” Not wanting to offend, I took off my coat and hoody, but left on my sweater, thermal long-sleeve shirt, regular long-sleeve shirt, and gloves. They, however, would not be enough. As soon as I stepped outside, I was greeted by an icy gust of lakefront wind. I put on my gloves, but they were too stiff to allow me to properly handle the menus, so I went for the “Thriller” look, sacrificing my right hand to the elements in the process. As I handed out menus to passers-by who went out of their way to avoid me, the temperature started to drop. Now, you would think that standing outside in the freezing cold while wearing a little chef’s uniform would be payment enough for whatever past sins I had committed, but oh, no. God and Chicago, being the total dicks that they are, decided it was time to start snowing. And this wasn’t one of those oh-look-how-pretty-the-snow-is-what-a-beautiful-white-blanket-it’s-covering-the-Earth-in kind of snows that Southerners picture in their naïve, warm little brains. This was a the-wind-is-35mph-and-I-would-cry-if-my-eyes-weren’t-frozen-shut kind of snow. I struggled mightily to continue working, but the wind pushed me down the street to a warm coffee shop where the menus accidentally fell into a trashcan, and where I accidentally hung out for an hour. When I finally returned to the restaurant, they thanked me for braving the storm. I felt guilty for about two seconds, and then grabbed my money, my hoody, and my coat, and I left. On the train ride home, I reached my frozen right hand into my coat pocket to retrieve my generic lip balm (couldn’t splurge on the good stuff) in hope of finding some wind burn relief. Then, I decided to block out the events of the day for as long as I lived. It actually worked pretty well, because after I spent the money, I didn’t really think about the chef suit-blizzard incident until years later when I was watching The Mothman Prophecies.

The Mothman Prophecies (based on true events)
My mom loves movies as much as I do, and she will see pretty much anything that comes out as long as it isn’t too violent and there is little or no talk of sex. When she sees a movie she likes she waits until it comes out on DVD, buys it, and then sends it to me. This has allowed me to amass a rather strange film collection. Within a period of a few months, I once received The Count of Monte Cristo, two Ashley Judd movies, and a DeNiro piece that nobody’s ever heard of. Mothman is one of my mom movies. She thought I would like it, and she was right, but we’ll get to that later.

In Mothman, Richard Gere (one of my mom’s favorites) is a hotshot reporter for the Washington Post. He and his lovely wife (Debra Messing, looking almost as good as she did on “Ned and Stacey”) close on a beautiful house in Georgetown. On their way home from the closing they sit at a red light on a deserted road, and you just know they’re going to get in a wreck, and they do, but not before Messing sees a moth-type beast flying at the windshield. Gere is fine, but while in the hospital for her injuries, Messing finds out she has a rare brain tumor, starts drawing creepy images, and dies.

Two Years Later. Gere, still reeling from the death of his wife, is heading to Richmond, VA to do a story on a potential presidential candidate. His car breaks down, and he goes to a house for help, but instead is greeted by a man carrying a shotgun. The man, Gordon, claims that Gere has appeared at the house at the same exact time for the past three nights. Laura Linney then shows up doing an accent that sounds a lot like the one my friend did when she played Shelby in a 10th grade student-directed production of Steel Magnolias. Linney is a cop, and she tries to clear things up. She gives Gere a lift to a motel, and we learn that he has somehow ended up in a small town on the West Virginia/Ohio border which, for you geography buffs, is not very close to Richmond at all. (Spooooky.) Soon, Gordon starts hearing a voice that says things like “99 die in Denver,” and those things, those prophecies if you will, come true. Gere and Linney try to figure out what is going on, but Gere gets in too deep. One night, he receives a phone call from the voice that has spoken to Gordon, and the greatest scene in the film occurs. First, the voice says its name is Indred Cold. Yep. That's the name. Cold knows everything about Gere down to what he is doing that very minute like where he is hiding his shoes and what lines he's looking at in a book. To truly test Cold, Gere asks. “What do I have in my hand?” and Indred replies in the most menacing whisper you can possibly imagine, “Chapstick.” I cannot explain to you how absurd this part is. It is possibly the most bizarre product placement/misguided moment of terror ever committed to film. Seriously, you have to see it.

After that, Gere goes to frigid Chicago to track down an expert who talks a lot but doesn’t give us a damn clue as to what is going on. He’s all “entities and energies” and whatnot. Gere returns to West Virginia, and bonds more with Linney. Then, Gordon dies, and Messing starts appearing around town. Gere gets a note from Indred Cold saying that Messing (his dead wife, mind you) will contact him in his Georgetown home that Saturday (Christmas Eve) at noon. Gere leaves WV, goes home, and waits. Linney calls and gives the requisite your-wife-is-dead-and-that-weird-creepy-voice-is-lying-and-you-should-spend-Christmas-with-me speech. Gere hangs up, the clock clicks noon, the phone rings, and…Gere pulls it out of the wall. Broken, the phone rings again, and…Gere walks out the door. Come on! You're telling me that a mothman tells you your dead wife is going to call at noon, and you don’t even pick up the phone? That’s bullshit, my friends, that is bullshit!

Movie’s over, right? He turned his back on the beast and now he can live a peaceful, happy life or whatever. Nope. When he gets back to West Virginia, there is a traffic jam on a bridge. The bridge collapses, casting Linney and others into the river along with a bunch of Christmas presents. This actually has to do with a dream Linney talks about early in the movie, but I just can’t even get into all that right now. Gere jumps in and saves Linney, and they share one of those man-this-was-weird-maybe-we-should-start-a-life-together looks. The credits roll, and the eerie/sexy TOMANDANDY score takes us out.

Honestly, Mothman Prophecies can be quite creepy at times. I’m not afraid to admit I got chills more than once while watching. The problem with the movie is that it makes absolutely no sense at all, and it doesn’t bother to even address any of the questions it raises. However, I’m still giving it 3-Griecos (see ratings). It’s pretty entertaining, and the “Chapstick” scene is just awesome. Oh, by the way, if Indred Cold is a reference that I don’t get or if it's some sort of anagram, please let me know, because if that’s all you got for an 8-foot tall moth-demon, you have failed. And I don’t care if that is the name from the “true events.” Change it. This is Hollywood, damnit.

Ratings

1-Grieco: There’s probably a re-run of "Full House on". Watch that instead.

2-Griecos: Washed-up stars, watered-down action, and my friends are at work. What the hell.

3-Griecos: Bad religious symbolism abounds and the gunplay is damn near balletic. My Friday night is looking up.

4-Griecos: If Looks Could Kill. All I’m sayin’.

**If ever I should come across a film that rates 0-Griecos, may God have mercy on your soul.

You're Watching Sports Night on CSC

I have tried to avoid reviewing TV shows on GIK, because that just opens up a world of possibilities, and if I hate anything, it’s possibilities. I also realize that I rarely (never?) review something that I believe is good without any sort of irony attached. Today, I break both of those rules.

Sports Night
“Sports Night” was a short-lived series that aired from like ’98 to 2000. It was created by Aaron Sorkin who penned A Few Good Men, and would go on to create “The West Wing.” (note: That show totally fell apart when Sorkin left. Rob Lowe’s leaving didn’t help, either. Damn, that guy is handsome.) Anyway, “Sports Night” has a great cast including Peter Krause (speaking of damn handsome) from “Six Feet Under,” Josh “Knox Overstreet” Charles, and Felicity Huffman who’s been taking the awards shows by storm for that movie about the transsexual and that show about those housewives who seem to think they’re a lot more attractive than they really are (I’m talking to you Teri Hatcher and Nicolette Sheridan). Robert “Benson” Guillaume, Josh Molina, and the great Ted McGinley also play pivotal roles. Man, William H. Macy (husband of Huffman) even shows up to knock out a few episodes, and he cannot be denied. Anyway, the show is available on DVD, and you should really check it out. There are only 45 episodes, and they move fast. In fact, I once stayed up for 24 hours straight and watched the entire series. That’s how cool I am. Now, the show takes a few episodes to find its legs and get rid of the studio-demanded laugh track, but once it does, you will not be disappointed. Oh, and you don’t have to like sports or know anything about sports to enjoy “Sports Night.” However, I would suggest you watch a Cubs game. Not to get a better feel for the show or anything, but just to watch the Cubs.