"With the quality and convenience of DVD, plus widescreen televisions that boast images as crisp as a freshly minted dollar bill, air conditioning alone isn't enough to drive today's consumers to their local googolplexes. For the first time in decades, the movies have to be watchable, too, which is presenting Hollywood with its most formidable challenge since it tried to turn Gretchen Mol into the next big thing. Armed with the only materials necessary to make important movie-going decisions—plot synopses and occasionally trailers—the A.V. Club film staff has assembled this helpful guide to which spectacles must be seen among the text-messaging teens, and which ones might be better appreciated on the La-Z-Boy six months later."
Highlight:
Delta Farce
What it's about: A trio of dumb-ass National Guardsmen (Larry The Cable Guy, Bill Engvall, and DJ Qualls) headed to Iraq are accidentally dropped in Mexico, which they mistake for a war zone. Such a quagmire might seem hopeless, but if anyone can engineer a desirable outcome in such a trying situation (or "Git-R-Done," as it were), it would of course be Qualls. And to a lesser extent, Larry The Cable Guy.
Why it might be worth seeing in theaters: The primal charisma and raw animal sexuality of Qualls, Engvall, and The Cable Guy can only be appreciated fully on the big screen. IMAX would be ideal, but the lesser screens at the local multiplex will have to do.
Why you're probably better off waiting for the DVD: Do you really want to be seen in public shelling out for a movie starring Larry The Cable Guy? We didn't think so.
Possible special feature: Actual MRI footage conclusively showing audience members losing brain mass as they watch the film.
Complete Article at theavclub.com.
Showing posts with label External reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label External reviews. Show all posts
Friday, May 4, 2007
Monday, December 4, 2006
New York Times Review of Turistas
I'm including this because of what Dargis writes about the "splatter and scream" genre in the last paragraph.
December 1, 2006
Ugly Americans, Young, Attractive and Tormented
By MANOHLA DARGIS
If stupidity were a crime, the nitwits in the cheap horror flick Turistas would be doing time in Attica. A grubby, lethally dull bid to cash in on the new extreme horror, the film turns on a conceit as frayed as Freddy Krueger’s shtick: a group of hotties stumble into the lair of a madman. Carnage ensues. Here the hapless, clueless and braless are the English-speaking tourists of the film’s title who, having gone abroad to party hearty, end up being batted about by a wacky cat with very sharp claws and a seriously sick sense of social justice.
Although his heart clearly isn’t in the more unsavory aspects of the job, namely slicing and dicing, the director, John Stockwell, does make a faint, early effort to infuse the proceedings with a smidgen of humor. The opening scene of a Brazilian bus careering wildly on a twisty rural road while the sweaty, swarthy bus driver rummages inside his nostrils (and wrestles a shift stick adorned with a pentagram), does manage to squeeze some dubious humor from the image of the freaked-out white tourist. The only problem is that in this case those fears turn out to be entirely justified, since it isn’t long before the bus is sliding down a mountain, taking that initial flicker of amused reflexivity with it.
What follows is the old splatter and scream as the interchangeable pretty girls and hard-body boys are lined up like ducks to be shot down or, in the case of one turista, gutted while still conscious. (The actors playing the ducks are similarly interchangeable; you can find their names in the accompanying credit box.) This operation, which isn’t any more disgusting than the medical surgeries that crop up on television — though it’s considerably less well-lighted — is as laughable as it is repulsive. That’s especially true when the evil doctor, Zamora (Miguel Lunardi, eyeballs popping), places one victim’s internal organs next to her fetching naked breast, a gesture that neatly encapsulates the sexual panic and misogyny that characterize the stupidest examples of extreme horror.
Apologists for vivisectionist entertainment trot out all sorts of rationales to justify the spectacle of human torture instead of just admitting that such spectacles turn them on. In this respect the horror audience, in its enthusiasm for go-go gore, is far more honest than those who hide behind the fig leaf of radical politics. Like Hostel (a critique of American arrogance, don’tcha know), which seems the most direct inspiration for Turistas, this film involves first-world tourists who are violently punished for traveling into a third-world (or third-world-like) country. Turistas plays this political angle more openly than does Hostel, since Zamora defends his blood lust by donating “gringo” organs to his country’s poor. Yeah, yeah, yeah, and Jason and Freddy donate regularly to their local blood banks.
Advancements in special effects have made it easier than ever to make fictional disembowelments and the like look super-realistic. And on a fundamental level, the charnel-house aesthetics of films like Hostel, Cabin Fever and the remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre are not any different from the graphic passages in films like Saving Private Ryan and Flags of Our Fathers. The goals of these war movies are certainly far loftier than those of a run-of-the-mill horror divertissement, but in the end they all traffic — in part or in whole — in convincing images of extreme human suffering. Some films do it for art; others for amusement. For better and at times for worse, though, the cinema of death now appears inescapable.
Turistas is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). The usual torture mixed in with gunplay, open wounds, beer, pot, discreet sex and naked female breasts.
TURISTAS
Opens today nationwide.
Directed by John Stockwell; written by Michael Arlen Ross; director of photography, Enrique Chediak; underwater director of photography, Peter Zuccarini; edited by Jeff McEvoy; music by Paul Haslinger; production designer, Marlise Storchi; produced by Mr. Stockwell, Marc Butan, Scott Steindorff and Bo Zenga; released by Fox Atomic and 2929 Productions. Running time: 89 minutes.
WITH: Josh Duhamel (Alex), Melissa George (Pru), Olivia Wilde (Bea), Desmond Askew (Finn), Beau Garrett (Amy), Max Brown (Liam), Agles Steib (Kiko) and Miguel Lunardi (Zamora).
December 1, 2006
Ugly Americans, Young, Attractive and Tormented
By MANOHLA DARGIS
If stupidity were a crime, the nitwits in the cheap horror flick Turistas would be doing time in Attica. A grubby, lethally dull bid to cash in on the new extreme horror, the film turns on a conceit as frayed as Freddy Krueger’s shtick: a group of hotties stumble into the lair of a madman. Carnage ensues. Here the hapless, clueless and braless are the English-speaking tourists of the film’s title who, having gone abroad to party hearty, end up being batted about by a wacky cat with very sharp claws and a seriously sick sense of social justice.
Although his heart clearly isn’t in the more unsavory aspects of the job, namely slicing and dicing, the director, John Stockwell, does make a faint, early effort to infuse the proceedings with a smidgen of humor. The opening scene of a Brazilian bus careering wildly on a twisty rural road while the sweaty, swarthy bus driver rummages inside his nostrils (and wrestles a shift stick adorned with a pentagram), does manage to squeeze some dubious humor from the image of the freaked-out white tourist. The only problem is that in this case those fears turn out to be entirely justified, since it isn’t long before the bus is sliding down a mountain, taking that initial flicker of amused reflexivity with it.
What follows is the old splatter and scream as the interchangeable pretty girls and hard-body boys are lined up like ducks to be shot down or, in the case of one turista, gutted while still conscious. (The actors playing the ducks are similarly interchangeable; you can find their names in the accompanying credit box.) This operation, which isn’t any more disgusting than the medical surgeries that crop up on television — though it’s considerably less well-lighted — is as laughable as it is repulsive. That’s especially true when the evil doctor, Zamora (Miguel Lunardi, eyeballs popping), places one victim’s internal organs next to her fetching naked breast, a gesture that neatly encapsulates the sexual panic and misogyny that characterize the stupidest examples of extreme horror.
Apologists for vivisectionist entertainment trot out all sorts of rationales to justify the spectacle of human torture instead of just admitting that such spectacles turn them on. In this respect the horror audience, in its enthusiasm for go-go gore, is far more honest than those who hide behind the fig leaf of radical politics. Like Hostel (a critique of American arrogance, don’tcha know), which seems the most direct inspiration for Turistas, this film involves first-world tourists who are violently punished for traveling into a third-world (or third-world-like) country. Turistas plays this political angle more openly than does Hostel, since Zamora defends his blood lust by donating “gringo” organs to his country’s poor. Yeah, yeah, yeah, and Jason and Freddy donate regularly to their local blood banks.
Advancements in special effects have made it easier than ever to make fictional disembowelments and the like look super-realistic. And on a fundamental level, the charnel-house aesthetics of films like Hostel, Cabin Fever and the remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre are not any different from the graphic passages in films like Saving Private Ryan and Flags of Our Fathers. The goals of these war movies are certainly far loftier than those of a run-of-the-mill horror divertissement, but in the end they all traffic — in part or in whole — in convincing images of extreme human suffering. Some films do it for art; others for amusement. For better and at times for worse, though, the cinema of death now appears inescapable.
Turistas is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). The usual torture mixed in with gunplay, open wounds, beer, pot, discreet sex and naked female breasts.
TURISTAS
Opens today nationwide.
Directed by John Stockwell; written by Michael Arlen Ross; director of photography, Enrique Chediak; underwater director of photography, Peter Zuccarini; edited by Jeff McEvoy; music by Paul Haslinger; production designer, Marlise Storchi; produced by Mr. Stockwell, Marc Butan, Scott Steindorff and Bo Zenga; released by Fox Atomic and 2929 Productions. Running time: 89 minutes.
WITH: Josh Duhamel (Alex), Melissa George (Pru), Olivia Wilde (Bea), Desmond Askew (Finn), Beau Garrett (Amy), Max Brown (Liam), Agles Steib (Kiko) and Miguel Lunardi (Zamora).
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
