Film Review: THE PAPERBOY: BASED ON THE NOVEL "THE PAPERBOY" BY PETE DEXTER (2012, Lee Daniels)

Jellyfish Stings: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 107 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Starring Zac Efron (HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL, 17 AGAIN), Matthew McConaughey (TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE: THE NEXT GENERATION, ANGELS IN THE OUTFIELD), Nicole Kidman (BMX BANDITS, BATMAN FOREVER), John Cusack (ONE CRAZY SUMMER, CON AIR), David Oyelowo (RISE OF THE PLANET OF THE APES, JACK REACHER), Macy Gray (THE CROW: WICKED PRAYER, the Schwarzenegger AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS), and Scott Glenn (URBAN COWBOY, BACKDRAFT). Co-adapted, and based on the novel by Pete Dexter (MICHAEL, PARIS TROUT, WILD BILL). Directed and co-adapted by Lee Daniels (PRECIOUS: BASED ON THE NOVEL "PUSH" BY SAPPHIRE, SHADOWBOXER).
Tag-line: None that I could find.
Best one-liner: "IF ANYONE'S GONNA PISS ON HIM, IT'S GONNA BE ME!"

After making PRECIOUS: BASED ON THE NOVEL 'PUSH' BY SAPPHIRE, Lee Daniels decided to win over mainstream filmgoers once again with a film designed to address capital-I "Important" issues in broad, hilarious strokes and deliver the sort of glossy, over the top melodrama audiences have been deeply craving in the wake of jaw-dropping trashterpieces like CRASH '04, and other films of its ilk.

Originally designed as Pedro Almodóvar's English-language debut (for those who are unfamiliar, he's the post-Franco, candy-colored Spanish fusion of Alfred Hitchcock and John Waters), it was handed off to Mr. Daniels, who no doubt sought to replicate the awards buzz and loving glow he received from PRECIOUS: BASED ON THE NOVEL 'PUSH' BY SAPPHIRE.   Lucky for us all, Almodóvar left a few of his delightful fingerprints behind on this thing (he supposedly tweaked the treatment, if not the script), and that, combined with a high-budgeted, borderline santicmonious disposition has created a work of lunatic, corporate-funded camp, the likes of which I've never seen before.  It's like if Paul Verhoeven did a remake of TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, or as if Lucio Fulci directed THE FIRM.  It is a movie so spectacularly awful and so splendidly sure of itself that it transcends kitsch:  it is "kitschscendent." Ladies and gentlemen:  it's the second installment of Crawdad-Lickin', Southern-Fried Sleaze-O-Rama, and hot damn– my Dixie cup runneth over!

Here's the 1950s sci-fi movie poster rundown:

SEE!

Nicole Kidman giving a Southern accent her best shot and engaging in some "no-touch" masturbation in front of an audience so that her convicted murderer boyfriend (John Cusack) can get off, via mutual manacle masturbation.

Cusack contemplates: mutual manacle masturbation, his paycheck.

This scene is somehow the exact median point between Kathleen Turner's wild courtroom leg thrashing in SERIAL MOM and Sharon Stone's leg-cross-and-uncross technique in BASIC INSTINCT.


Zac Efron's two modes of acting:  looking toward and away from Nicole Kidman.

Just when you think the scene has "peaked," it continues to devolve/escalate and reach new, even trashier depths/heights.  If this film had actually won Academy Awards, I would like to think that this scene– in slow motion and set to sweeping music– would one day be featured in a heartstring-tugging montage about the social courage of Hollywood.

McConaughey's arched eyebrow is well-placed.


David Oyelowo averts his gaze, an act that the audience is somehow unable to do.  It's like watching a car accident.


Pictured:  Oscar gold.   Well, at least Golden Globe gold.  Er, at least Golden Globe nomination gold.  And Golden Globe nominations still mean something– I mean, you can't bribe your way into getting one for anything less than a Cher concert!

WATCH! 

An elderly Scott Glenn successfully maintain his dignity (and some wicked old man sideburns) in the midst of this bayou-blastin' shitshow!

This ain't URBAN COWBOY, pardner!


BEHOLD!

(not pictured)

Matthew McConaughey– bloody, naked, and hogtied– after being raped and tortured by some random dudes in a plotline designed to highlight the plight of closeted gay men during the 1960s, but which instead feels like oddly corporate rape-sploitation that makes PULP FICTION's gimps n' samurai swords look tasteful in comparison.  At least McConaughey is having fun with it, though– after all, this was made the same year as KILLER JOE and MAGIC MIKE.


BEAR WITNESS!

To the best urination scene in Oscar bait since THE GREEN MILE.  You see, what happens is this:

Zac Efron is out for an innocuous swim when he is stung by a cluster of CGI jellyfish.


He makes his way back to the shore in agony, sadly crawling toward trashy Nicole Kidman– his unrequited summer love.  (Did I mention that this movie is sort of framed like a nostalgic, star-crossed, romantic coming of age film?)

Anyway, he is first spied by a gaggle of young women who take note of his jellyfish-stung state and debate who is going to have to urinate on him.

Then Nicole Kidman arrives, and despite being told to call an ambulance,

she becomes combative, drives the young women away, and delivers a line that clearly should have been delivered by, I don't know, an aging Joan Crawford?:

  

"IF ANYONE'S GONNA PISS ON HIM, IT'S GONNA BE ME!"  

Sheer poetry.  This is followed by:

"HE DON'T LIKE STRANGERS PEEIN' ON HIM!"  

She then proceeds to, well, pee on him in a drawn-out mess of a scene, which, as you can see, is described by the subtitles as "full of grunting."

This is one of those

seminal moments

in an aging actress's career,

like Anna Magnani in THE ROSE TATTOO, or Susan Sarandon in DEAD MAN WALKING, or

or Katherine Hepburn in almost anything, from THE AFRICAN QUEEN to GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER 

to, say... ON GOLDEN POND?

CONTEMPLATE!

The long awaited, crawdad-lickin' sex scene between a recently freed John Cusack and his lady love, trashy Nicole Kidman.  Somehow, you already knew that it was going to involve some self-esteem building salad tossing, right?:


It's not my fault that this particular activity has become a recurring motif during this Southern-Fried Sleaze-O-Rama series (or as I newly christened it, "Mason Licksin'").  Also, their sex scene is artfully crosscut with footage of wild boars.

Note grunting.

Either this is a stroke of hilarious, subversive genius worthy of Luis Buñuel...  or an incredibly shallow person's attempt at capital-S "Symbolism."  Either way I'm entertained, so I suppose it doesn't matter much.


GAZE UPON!

An axe versus machete fight scene between an eye-patch-wearing Matthew McConaughey and a greasy bayou John Cusack!  This is clearly worth the price of admission alone.  Though it's brief, it nearly plays like a deleted scene from HARD TARGET!  (No JCVD and Wilford Brimley, though.)


Place yer bets, kiddies!


TAKE A GANDER AT!

The absurdist finale, whereupon the film fully transforms into a FRIDAY THE 13TH sequel, complete with a machete-wielding Jason Voorhees John Cusack chasing a generic teenager Zac Efron around Crystal Lake the bayou.



Cusack taunts him in that ersatz Hollywood Southern accent, and it sounds like "Weahuh yew gooan, papuhboyyy?"  It's pretty damn good.


Hollywood, God bless you for unwittingly pumping cash into making the kind of ludicrous and expensive trash that Russ Meyer could only have dreamed of.
In closing, I have decided that I cannot award THE PAPERBOY any stars, but that I must give it five jellyfish stings out of five. And then I'm going to piss on them.

–Sean Gill

P.S.  Stay tuned for the third and final installment of Crawdad-Lickin', Southern-Fried Sleaze-O-Rama!  Hint:  it could very well be called, "FIFTY SHADES OF EASTWOOD."

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Coming Soon: Crawdad-Lickin', Southern-Fried Sleaze-O-Rama!

So in the midst of the worst heat wave I've experienced in recent memory, the germ of an idea was born.  Three of the most recent films that I've watched happened to belong to the same subgenre:  crawdad-lickin', Southern-fried, sweat-soaked, sleaze-o-riffic crime dramas that are ostensibly serious films– some even Oscar bait– which are packed to the brim with home-cooked soul food, unintentional camp, and some of the most hiliariously perverse material ever to be shucked out of Hollywood.   So grab yer Cajun spices and hold on to your (crawdad-shaped) hats– this is gonna be a doozy!

HOT STUFF!

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Film Review: BUNNY O'HARE (1971, Gerd Oswald)

Stars: 1.5 of 5.

Running Time: 102 minutes.

Notable Cast or Crew: Bette Davis (DARK VICTORY, ALL ABOUT EVE), Ernest Borgnine (FROM HERE TO ETERNITY, ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK), John Astin (THE ADDAMS FAMILY, EERIE INDIANA), Jack Cassidy (THE EIGER SANCTION, MR. MAGOO'S CHRISTMAS CAROL), Joan Delaney (THE PRESIDENT'S ANALYST, DON'T DRINK THE WATER), and Jay Robinson (SHAMPOO, Coppola's DRACULA).  Written by Stanley Z. Cherry (PETTICOAT JUNCTION, THE MANY LOVES OF DOBIE GILLIS) and Coslough Johnson (THE SONNY AND CHER COMEDY HOUR, SHE-RA, HE-MAN AND THE MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE).  Produced by Samuel Z. Arkoff (ROLLING THUNDER, THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES, DILLINGER '73, EARTH VS. THE SPIDER, THE TOWN THAT DREADED SUNDOWN).

Tag-line:  "ENJOY those Golden Years with the most profitable pension plan any sweet little mother ever devised!
Best one-liner:  "SCREW 'EM!"

"Heya, bud– you wanna see a terrible movie?"
–"Not particularly."
"How's about a terrible movie with Bette Davis?"
–"I already saw RETURN FROM WITCH MOUNTAIN."
"How's about a terrible movie with Bette Davis and Ernest Borgnine?"

–"Well..."
"Look at 'em smiling.  Come on."
–"Well..."
"How's about a terrible movie with Bette Davis and Ernest Borgnine where they play geriatric bank robbers... who dress up as hippies and tool around on a motorcycle so as not to get caught?"

–"Alright, you win– now there's no way I'm not watching that."
"I thought so, you sick bastard."
–"So wait... what is this again?"
"It's a Samuel Z. Arkoff American International shit-storm that's so cheap and desperate and awful that despite the presence of major Hollywood stars from the Golden Era, it doesn't even feel like a 'real movie,' ever."
–"Uh..."
"Also, there's an overwhelming, zany harmonica-laden soundtrack and some chase sequences worthy of Benny Hill."

–"Er...what?"
"Okay.  So imagine this:  Bette Davis plays an unappreciated older mother whose deadbeat kids are allowing the bank to foreclose on her home ("THIS IS MY HOUSE YOU CAN'T KNOCK IT DOWN!!!"),

only one of the dudes tearing her plumbing apart happens to be ex-bank robbing legend Ernest Borgnine, and so he and Ms. Bette strike up a December-December romance and vow revenge on the banks."

–"He's taking her toilet?"
"Yeah.  And did I mention that one of said deadbeat kids is played by the legendary John Astin, seen here wearing a wicked, rainbow-colored 70s smoking jacket?"

–"Okay...?"
"It's anti-bank message is certainly admirable, and it really tries for a late 60s counter-culture vibe, but it simply can't escape the blockheaded 'geriatric BONNIE AND CLYDE' gimmickry."

–"Why am I supposed to be watching this?"

"Well, of course it all leads up to the emotionally satisfying and semi-nude payoff of Ernest Borgnine digging a bullet out of Bette Davis' shoulder."

–"Can I leave now?"
"No.  If you've come this far, you should at least stay for the finale, whereupon Bette hangs up on both of her needy children and utters the sheer poetry of...

"SCREW 'EM!"

And from the look of her expression afterward, I think it's pretty evident that this sentiment is simultaneously aimed at the filmmakers!"

–"Oh.  Uh, why am I here again?"

"I don't know.  Because we have no standards?"

–"Well apparently, neither do Davis and Borgnine."

"We all gotta eat, brother..."

 –Sean Gill

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This Sunday: BATSHIT CRAZY BLOWOUT!

This Sunday, in our continuing series as artists-in-residence at the Bowery Poetry Club, Junta Juleil and the Psycho Space Laboratory proudly present what may be the final show of the series (for a while, at least): BATSHIT CRAZY BLOWOUT!

Hosted by Jillaine Gill, featuring live performances by Kerryn Feehan, Lisa D., Jessie Richardson, Dave Marcus, Sean Gill, Katie Hayes, Don DiPaolo, Natalie Green, and a few films by Sean Gill, including a couple of surprises.

It's this Sunday, March 25th at 9:30 p.m. (doors open at 9) at the Bowery Poetry Club (308 Bowery between Houston and Bleecker, take the F train to 2nd Ave, or the 6 to Bleecker). Doors around 9 pm, event starts at 9:30, 10 dollars cash at the door.

It's a live ride!

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GIANT OSCAR MESS promo!

For those who are not interested in EXTREMELY LOUD AND INCREDIBLY CLOSE. Details HERE.

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Film Review: RIKI-OH- THE STORY OF RICKY (1991, Ngai Kai Lam)

Stars: 4.9 of 5.
Running Time: 88 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Siu-Wong Fan (IP MAN, SUPERCOP 2), Mei Sheng Fan (YEAR OF THE DRAGON, HIT MAN IN THE HAND OF BUDDHA), Ka-Kui Ho (PRISON ON FIRE, INFERNAL AFFAIRS 3), Yukari Oshima (LETHAL COMBAT, LETHAL GIRLS 2), Frankie Chin (GUARDIAN ANGELS, TO BE NUMBER ONE), Philip Kwok (HARD BOILED, FIVE DEADLY VENOMS), and a very special appearance by Tetsuro Tanba (HAPPINESS OF THE KATAKURIS, HARA-KIRI, YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE, GREED IN BROAD DAYLIGHT).
Tag-line: None.
Best one-liner: "Enough! We're human beings! HUUUMAAAAN BEEEEIIIINGS!"

"RIKI-OH: THE STORY OF RICKY." Is that a typo? Is this the story of "Riki," or is it the story of "Ricky?" It doesn't really matter. What does matter is that this is a grand martial arts-prison film-adventure masterpiece from the unhinged director of THE CAT, Ngai Kai Lam. It's the Looney Tunes carried to their logical, deranged end point, and they've learned a little along the way from DAWN OF THE DEAD to BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA to every movie that's ever combined eye trauma, tight pants, and bad dubbing.


It's the kind of prison movie where every prisoner is wrongfully committed and every warder is a cartoonishly evil kung fu master. It's also the kind of movie to lay all of this on 'ya with a straight face– and that's the way I like it.
Because of my fervent commitment to film scholarship and to the use of Caps Lock in order to embody said bad dubbing, this article will boldly and eloquently try to complete, many times over, the following, near-meaningless sentence:

"RIKI-OH: THE STORY OF RIKI HAS SURE GOT A LOT OF..."

#1. "...GUTS."

Yesiree, RIKI-OH has got a lot of guts, just ask Oscar, Oscar has got a lot of guts. Oscar even uses his guts to strangle Riki-Oh, prompting the deputy warden to pontificate:

"ALRIGHT! YOU'VE GOT A LOT OF GUTS OSCAR!"

#2. "...GRAVE DESECRATION."


That there is Japanese film legend Tetsuro Tanba hurling gravestone after gravestone at our hero Riki-Oh (Siu-Wong Fan), who proceeds to smash them into small pieces of styrofoam. It's part of his generic training as a "martial arts good guy." But whose graves are those? He must smash 30 or 40 of them. I'm pretty sure that must violate some local ordinance. At the very least it undermines any possible Zen ideals they were (probably) going for.

#3. "...'BASTARDS.'"
Overuse of the word "bastard" is key to any poorly-dubbed film, Chinese, Italian, or otherwise. For example: "BASTARD WHY ARE YOU GROWING OPIUM!"

#4. "...VIDEOCASSETTE TAPES."

The Cyclopic deputy-warden (pictured on the left) has got shelves and shelves of videotapes in his office. I don't know if they're supposed to be soft-core pornography or what (many of their spines appear to be decorated with scantily clad ladies), but wait a minute, maybe they're supposed to be security tapes! We occasionally see security camera footage and monitors. Maybe Ngai Kai Lam said "ALRIGHT GUYS DRESS THE SET WITH SECURITY TAPES LOTS AND LOTS OF SECURITY TAPES GUYS" and then the crew just raided their own collections, hoping that we wouldn't notice.

#5. "...SHIVS."

While technically, RIKI-OH does not have a lot of shivs, allow me to rephrase the sentence: "RIKI-OH: THE STORY OF RIKI HAS SURE GOT A WHOLE LOTTA SHIV." In one eventful scene, some prison gang justice is about to be handed down, and the above, ridiculous, serrated-war-club shiv is proffered. I don't think, in all of prison movie history from the silent COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO to BRUTE FORCE to COOL HAND LUKE to ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK– that a better shiv has ever been devised.

#6. "...GREEN SHIRTS."


I'm not going to pretend to be an expert on 1991 Hong Kong fashion, but this feels a little excessive to me. Maybe everyone was in charge of costuming themselves, and they filmed it mostly on one eventful St. Patrick's Day? That would explain why everyone seems to be drunk...

#7. "...SEQUINS."

A bag of sequins is at one point employed in order to effectively blind Riki-Oh. Shades of BLOODSPORT?

#8. "...HIGH SCHOOL GYM DECOR."

That hideous, orangey-brown linoleum floor? The blank white walls? The doors and banisters accented with the most grotesque shade of blue in all of Sherwin Williams? Clearly all robbed from my high school gymnasium!

#9. "...SELF-SURGERY."

Riki-Oh is impervious to any injury, but on rare occasions requires forms of medical attention. As depicted above, he can even fashion a tourniquet from his own severed veins and tendons, expertly tying them with his teeth! It's kinda like 127 HOURS, but with less product placement.

#10. "...RAZOR BLADES THAT ARE GOING IN YOUR MOUTH!"



#11. "...SCHWEET, EARLY 90's HAIRCUTS."

This member of the prison-enforcing "Gang of Four" (whose preferred weapon is apparently knitting needles on elastic strings) sports a lovely early 90's skater bowl cut with bleached bangs, handsomely parted down the middle. Because, seriously, where else would you part it?

#12. "...COMPLEX HOMOEROTICISM."

Most prison movies can sorrrrt of be classified as homoerotica, whether intentionally or unintentionally– I mean, they're filled with desperate, sweaty dudes who talk dirty and take showers together. But RIKI-OH takes it to Golan-Globus levels of ludicrosity (but unfortunately without Van Damme's splits). And I applaud the distrubutors for dubbing Riki with a voice flaming enough to match his appearance!
Or, let me put it this way: RIKI-OH contains one memorable scene where a total bear named 'Zorro' binds Riki's arms with bent prison bars, announces "I WAS PROMISED SEVEN BAGS OF RICE TO TURN YOU INTO MINCE MEAT AND PUT YOU IN A PIE," and begins pounding his backside as the man-child son of the warden jumps and giggles in the foreground, shouting "GOODY!!!"

Ladies and gentlemen, now that's what I call a TABLEAU!

And look at this magnificent twink, a leading member of the prison-enforcing Gang of Four:



It's sort of like if gay, Japanese Jason Schwartzman were to portray a martial arts supervillain!

Now– full disclosure– this role is actually portrayed by a female martial artist named Yukari Oshima, but, come on, she's still playing a man, and I wholeheartedly applaud that decision.

#13. "...MANPILES."

Now this is just getting ridiculous.

#14. "...RIDICULOUS FLASHBACKS."

RIKI-OH was so happy with his lady before she leapt off a building because she was sort of cornered by some gangsters. They used to frolick together in fields and play with a remote-controlled biplane (am I having flashbacks to MOONWALKER?) and he used to wear this one schoolboy outfit that was pretty schnazzy, too, cause I guess he was in school?

He is carrying books, after all.

#15. "...FLUTE-PLAYING."
I forgot to take a screenshot of this, so just take my word for it. There is a lot of flute-playing. There is even underground flute-playing. Someone even is killed for flute-playing. Flute-playing is something to be taken seriously.

#16. "...VISUAL POETRY."


Yes, that is a human skull being demolished by a Riki-Oh fist as depicted through the radioactive lens of an X-Ray, thank you very much, and I'll bet you didn't see that in a Terrence Malick film, ya visual poetry-luvin' prissypants.

(Apologies again- see #3- to Terrence Malick).

#17. "...PIPE-WRENCH-THWACKS TO THE FACE."

Note the warden's Siberian tiger-print rug!

In one notable scene, our friend with the skater bowl cut thwacks Riki-Oh, who is encased in a weird S&M/rusty iron bar torture device, with a pipe-wrench in the face, at the very least 20 or 30 times. And still you get the feeling that this is not being done for laffs; it's being done to show the severity of the impingements on human freedom which our hero Riki-Oh is facing.

#18. "...MEAT-GRINDIN'."


And in a grand finale of blood, guts, and depravity, the meat-grinder gets his due, making the world safe again for peace-loving, green-shirt wearing, wrongfully imprisoned men everywhere. Some might say this is the most impassioned anti-totalitarian plea since DARKNESS AT NOON, but I'll go one step further. I'll say this is the most impassioned anti-totalitarian plea since CHAINED HEAT. Amen.


-Sean Gill

Side note: the Augustus Gloop-esque evil ninny son of the Warden (shown here greeting the Deputy Warden by affixing used chewing gum to his forehead)

deserves special mention, as does his propensity for junk food and wearing Jack-O'-Lantern pin buttons and bow-ties. I could probably write an entire article on this kid... but I didn't. Ah, well.

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