Hey, here's one. It's called SLC Punk.
Don't watch it. Really, my words couldn't even put a dent in this thing.
Maybe I like "Scream." Maybe my daughter is a huge Scooby-Doo fan. I need Matthew Lillard to die, anyway, and it's for this movie alone.
It's bad. Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad (see what I did there? The characters are sheep).
The end.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
It's Christmas in July!
An American Carol (Vivendi Entertainment, 2008)
Alright, it's been awhile, and I apologize. The holidays were super busy, and to be honest, I just didn't feel like watching bad movies. I mean, who would want to come home from a fifteen hour day and sit in front of something crass and vulgar instead of something light and entertaining? Normally I would, as I'm a bit of a masochist. But this year was just bad, I needed a break, and I'll leave it at that. To be honest, I would've even let this project lie dormant a little longer than I have, except for the fact that someone TRIPLE DOG DARED me to watch this movie. Seriously?
Why this movie? It couldn't really be that bad that you feel the need to taunt me into reviewing it, could it? I mean, it's a David Zucker picture, and he made Airplane! It features a few people I like, such as Kelsey Grammer and, you know, other people. Oh, I "won't believe how inept this movie is," you say? Alright, I'll bite - let's stick our tongue to the frozen pole that is An American Carol and see how much skin comes off.
(Note: I'm watching the PAL release of this film, which informs me that it was distributed in Europe by "Essential Entertainment." I freaking doubt it, buddy).
We open at a typical American picnic, hosted by Leslie Nielsen. It's the 4th of July, and he's celebrating with his family. The precocious grandkids don't like his cooking, so they distract him by asking for a story. He tries to tell them about Scrooge, but they're too hip for that (I guess?). Thinking on the fly, he changes some particulars around to make it about the Fourth of July, and a man who hates America the way Scrooge hated Christmas. Quick, can you guess who it's going to be? I'll give you three guesses, and they all end with "Moore." His story begins in Afghanistan, with a group of terrorists (led by Robert Davi, the bad guy from The Goonies...as an Arab) that are trying to disrupt a local election, but the only thing they manage to destroy is the leader's car. Okay, I get it - this was written by people that find a group of twenty people all named "Muhammad Hussein" hilarious, and think it's hysterical to have an Arab guy exclaim "Jesus Christ!" in frustration at his incompetent lackeys. This is gonna be one of THOSE movies. Look, I like spoofs and goofball humor as much as anyone, but this movie has proclaimed itself as racist and ignorant at not even three minutes in. Ugh, I'm sure they'll find a way to work in almost every stereotype they can think of. Yep - Gay joke at 4:38, Mexican joke at 4:44. It's gonna be a long night.
So, our hapless terrorists express how frustrated they are with the way things are changing in their town (People are voting! Women are opening businesses!), and decide they need to revamp the image of the Taliban. Here we're treated to a mildly amusing recruitment video, in which Ahmed and his brother Ahman show the "do's and don'ts" of suicide bombing. They decide they need a big time Hollywood director to inspire their converts (it's okay to work with one, because most of them hate America anyway). Enter Micheal Moore, er, "Malone," portrayed by Chris Farley's brother...I guess he's like the Jim Belushi of the Farley family. Moore, Malone...look, I'm just gonna call him Micheal Moore, okay? Moore goes around being anti-American and generally unpleasant, and even gets cursed out by a Girl Scout selling cookies. None of this phases the big doofus, of course, who seems to take everything around him for granted. His current project is a movement to abolish the Fourth of July holiday, though it's not going so well. His nephew Josh shows up at the headquarters to inform him that he'll be shipping out to the Gulf soon, but Moore couldn't be bothered. His agent, James Woods, urges him to abandon those silly documentaries he does and do a feature film if he really wants to make a name for himself. He's snubbed at the "Moovealong.Org" awards by a guy that's supposed to be George Clooney, and so he's in the perfect, receptive mood to accept when he's approached by the terrorists to make their film for them. This is one of those scenes where one person is talking about one thing, and the other person is talking about another, but neither seems to realize it, leaving us in the audience wanting to strangle them both.
We're interrupted by the kids and Leslie Nielsen again (I'd forgotten they existed) for no real reason - these bookends serve no discernible purpose except to remind us that Leslie Nielsen is, in fact, still alive, and will be intruding into the movie on a semi-regular basis.
After the awards, Michael Moore scarfs junk food and watches TV in his hotel room - until JFK comes out of his television set like that little girl from The Ring, and fills the role of Jacob Marley, informing Moore that he'll be visited by three spirits. Moore, the douche bag that he is, mocks the guy that JUST WALKED OUT OF HIS TV, and goes to sleep.
The next day, at an unsuccessful college protest, he encounters his first guide: General George Patton, as portrayed by Kelsey Grammer. I guess he needed a paycheck after Frasier ended, or something. He shows Michael Moore a protest that took place in 1940 (in which the students shout the same insensible catchphrases as the present), then to 1938 to see the British Prime Minister grovel before Hitler. The point: talking to evil dictators never solved anything. Then we see how if, like Michael Moore wanted, the Civil War had never happened, he would in fact be a slave owner. I fail to see the correlation, but whatever, I guess they had to wedge those "Massah" jokes in there, somehow. None of it rubs off on our hapless "hero," so Patton takes him back to the modern day college. There we get one of the few amusing moments in this crapfest: a musical number about how college professors haven't changed a lick since 1968, and are indoctrinating students with the same mindless rhetoric they've been spewing for years. Some lines from this catchy tune:
"Nothing has changed, we still think the same way. And if you think the way we do, we'll give you an A. And you get extra credit if you're poor, black, or gay. Just be sure not to pray! Yes, every thing's the same!"
Yup.
The terrorists hatch a plan to blow up a country concert at Madison Square Garden, using passes they'll acquire from Moore, who is appearing there to make a speech about how much America sucks, or something. Then Bill O' Reilly shows up - as himself. Oh, GOD NO! Bill O'Reilly liked this movie so much that he appears as himself! Several times! My brain is melting.
After appearing on O'Reilly's show, Moore is dragged along by Patton to a courthouse under siege. Under siege by...zombies?!? Awesome, there are zombies in this? Oh, oh, I get it - the zombies are ACLU lawyers. Yes, to the people that wrote this movie, the ACLU (that group that will defend Americans, for free, if their civil rights have been impinged upon) are mindless zombies. Good to know where we stand. Dennis Hopper has a cameo as a shotgun-toting Judge, defending the 10 Commandments (in this case actual stone tablets posted in the courthouse) from the flesh eating lawyers trying to pry them off the wall. I'd ask if they could be more literal, but this movie wouldn't understand subtlety if it were bashed over the head with it. I did get a small kick out of two jokes during this sequence - a terrorist with a knapsack bomb is allowed through a checkpoint, where he then proclaims "Thank Allah for the ACLU!" The second bit is when Patton shoots the guy (somehow detonating the bomb) and comes back with "Enjoy your privacy rights...in HELL!" I don't know if it's Kelsey Grammer's delivery of the line, or what, but that was funny.
They make a few more stops. One destination is another 4th of July BBQ, where we see that THREE disabled children have replaced the Tiny Tim role, I guess all the better to tug at your heartstrings with. Then, it's off to the war! Here we get to see just how brave our men and women overseas are, while Micheal Moore runs around like a frightened child. There's something about this scene that really bugs me, short as it is. I've watched this film five times now (I try to be thorough) and every time this scene comes on I get a little upset. I wish I could put my finger on it. Maybe it's that, after an hour of this movie being a bully towards anyone that isn't a conservative zealot, and some of the worst slapstick I've ever seen, they choose NOW to try to fill you with patriotism. It's a sentimental, mawkish bit, and I'm calling foul, movie. It's much too late to try and win me over at this point, no matter how I feel about our soldiers.
In my first draft of this review, I did a detailed comparison of how this film related to the Charles Dickens classic it proclaims to be based on, but then the entire thing was only about a paragraph long. I'd deride it for taking such liberties, but in the end, I'm glad it differs so greatly from the source material; I don't think I could stand it if it were trying to be any more "clever." Anyway, unlike the original, our first "spirit" (Patton) takes him on most of his journey. The second one doesn't even show up until an hour in (this movie is one hour and twenty minutes long), and then only sticks around for one scene. That's probably all they could get Jon Voight to agree to, after he read this turkey. Yes, that's right - Jon Voight, Oscar winning actor, shows up as George Washington, our country's first president. He spouts some stuff about freedom while Moore yawns, then they show the site of the fallen World Trade Center. Jesus, that was unnecessary! Thankfully, it moves on quickly - to a cemetery, where Moore finds his own grave. Ah, we're back on track with the original story! Oh, and "Malone's" birth date on the headstone just happens to be April 20th...the same as Hitler's. ENOUGH ALREADY.
So, the third spirit arrives - the "Angel of freakin' Death, you turdhead," and it's *gasp* country music star Trace Adkins! So, this movie is telling me that the three great American heroes - the people I should look to that embody every aspect of what it is to be a great American - are George Patton, George Washington, and a dude that sings about trucks, or something. I'm not going to have much forehead left if you make me keep slapping it. They go see some other stuff that shows what the world would really be like if Moore got his way (apparently Detroit gets nuked), and after seeing a bunch of doctors in the morgue playing with his decapitated buttocks, he finally gets the point. What IS the point? Fuck if I know. America is good? I mean, yeah. So? So, he wakes up from his butt-fondling nightmare, and is so happy to be alive that he vows to change his ways. Does that mean this is wrapping up? Oh, no, no. There's that whole terrorist thing to resolve. DAMNIT.
He shows at the rally outside the concert, distractedly gives the bombers the backstage passes they requested, and is bundled along by his assistant. He stops off at a Port-O-Potty to collect his thoughts, where he is again visited by Patton, JFK, and Bill O'Reilly. O'Reilly isn't a spirit, he "just enjoys slapping" him. Stupid. So, Patton urges him to do the right thing (in another bit of actually amusing dialogue) and Moore runs to the nearest microphone to repent. Of course, his normally sheeplike and docile crowd turns on him, throwing vegetables, bits of wood...and an anvil. Seriously. Inside the concert, the terrorists get into place while Trace Adkins (as himself, presumably) takes the stage. The two terrorist lackeys decide they don't want to die, and inform Moore of their plot - but the opera singer from The Goonies is still out there in the crowd somewhere, and he's wired to blow! Moore takes the stage to a cacophony of boos as he tries to save everyone. Using his best logic ("Everyone that wants to blow up America, stand up!") he singles out the bad guy, saving the day. Trace Adkins serenades us with an over the top, "God bless America" country song, while Moore runs off to the docks to see his nephew Josh off to war. They have some words, he gets slapped by a little blind girl, and the movie ends with some sentimental bullshit about how great America is. Oh, and there's a great use of the "Wilhelm scream" (look it up if you aren't familiar) when all the little diseased kiddies fall off the docks simultaneously. Leslie Nielsen tells his captive audience about how everything is great, now, and the frakking credits finally role.
Ugh, look - I'm about as liberal as one can get while still retaining mental functions, but that's not what upsets me about this movie. Done correctly, you could completely lambaste everything I hold dear, and still have me in tears laughing. I, for one, can take a joke.This isn't about what your personal beliefs are, be they left or right, liberal or conservative - this is about entertainment. I've seen people on message boards comparing this movie to Team America - while not an accurate comparison, it does have similarities in that they both take famous leftists, and completely skewer them. The difference? Team America was kinda funny. I don't care if George Bush is your personal God, Rush Limbaugh his holy progeny, and Newt Gingrich is your holy ghost; you should still hate this movie, because IT IS NOT FUNNY. IT IS NOT ENTERTAINING IN ANY SHAPE, FORM, OR FASHION. I honestly can't even see this appealing to someone post-lobotomy, it is THAT much of an insult to the brain. The jokes, as they are, are appalling. The message is nil (except that America, in some vague way, KICKS FUCKING ASS!), and the entire proceedings will leave you scratching your head, wondering where the time went and feeling just ever so slightly dumber.
The Anti Preservation Society was founded with the idea that, by wiping crap like this from the face of the Earth, we ALL benefit a little. It's in the spirit of inclusion and brotherhood that I submit this film, which I hope to one day burn all prints of in a big, pro-America 4th of July bonfire. You should come, I grill a mean hotdog.
Alright, it's been awhile, and I apologize. The holidays were super busy, and to be honest, I just didn't feel like watching bad movies. I mean, who would want to come home from a fifteen hour day and sit in front of something crass and vulgar instead of something light and entertaining? Normally I would, as I'm a bit of a masochist. But this year was just bad, I needed a break, and I'll leave it at that. To be honest, I would've even let this project lie dormant a little longer than I have, except for the fact that someone TRIPLE DOG DARED me to watch this movie. Seriously?
Why this movie? It couldn't really be that bad that you feel the need to taunt me into reviewing it, could it? I mean, it's a David Zucker picture, and he made Airplane! It features a few people I like, such as Kelsey Grammer and, you know, other people. Oh, I "won't believe how inept this movie is," you say? Alright, I'll bite - let's stick our tongue to the frozen pole that is An American Carol and see how much skin comes off.
(Note: I'm watching the PAL release of this film, which informs me that it was distributed in Europe by "Essential Entertainment." I freaking doubt it, buddy).
We open at a typical American picnic, hosted by Leslie Nielsen. It's the 4th of July, and he's celebrating with his family. The precocious grandkids don't like his cooking, so they distract him by asking for a story. He tries to tell them about Scrooge, but they're too hip for that (I guess?). Thinking on the fly, he changes some particulars around to make it about the Fourth of July, and a man who hates America the way Scrooge hated Christmas. Quick, can you guess who it's going to be? I'll give you three guesses, and they all end with "Moore." His story begins in Afghanistan, with a group of terrorists (led by Robert Davi, the bad guy from The Goonies...as an Arab) that are trying to disrupt a local election, but the only thing they manage to destroy is the leader's car. Okay, I get it - this was written by people that find a group of twenty people all named "Muhammad Hussein" hilarious, and think it's hysterical to have an Arab guy exclaim "Jesus Christ!" in frustration at his incompetent lackeys. This is gonna be one of THOSE movies. Look, I like spoofs and goofball humor as much as anyone, but this movie has proclaimed itself as racist and ignorant at not even three minutes in. Ugh, I'm sure they'll find a way to work in almost every stereotype they can think of. Yep - Gay joke at 4:38, Mexican joke at 4:44. It's gonna be a long night.
So, our hapless terrorists express how frustrated they are with the way things are changing in their town (People are voting! Women are opening businesses!), and decide they need to revamp the image of the Taliban. Here we're treated to a mildly amusing recruitment video, in which Ahmed and his brother Ahman show the "do's and don'ts" of suicide bombing. They decide they need a big time Hollywood director to inspire their converts (it's okay to work with one, because most of them hate America anyway). Enter Micheal Moore, er, "Malone," portrayed by Chris Farley's brother...I guess he's like the Jim Belushi of the Farley family. Moore, Malone...look, I'm just gonna call him Micheal Moore, okay? Moore goes around being anti-American and generally unpleasant, and even gets cursed out by a Girl Scout selling cookies. None of this phases the big doofus, of course, who seems to take everything around him for granted. His current project is a movement to abolish the Fourth of July holiday, though it's not going so well. His nephew Josh shows up at the headquarters to inform him that he'll be shipping out to the Gulf soon, but Moore couldn't be bothered. His agent, James Woods, urges him to abandon those silly documentaries he does and do a feature film if he really wants to make a name for himself. He's snubbed at the "Moovealong.Org" awards by a guy that's supposed to be George Clooney, and so he's in the perfect, receptive mood to accept when he's approached by the terrorists to make their film for them. This is one of those scenes where one person is talking about one thing, and the other person is talking about another, but neither seems to realize it, leaving us in the audience wanting to strangle them both.
We're interrupted by the kids and Leslie Nielsen again (I'd forgotten they existed) for no real reason - these bookends serve no discernible purpose except to remind us that Leslie Nielsen is, in fact, still alive, and will be intruding into the movie on a semi-regular basis.
After the awards, Michael Moore scarfs junk food and watches TV in his hotel room - until JFK comes out of his television set like that little girl from The Ring, and fills the role of Jacob Marley, informing Moore that he'll be visited by three spirits. Moore, the douche bag that he is, mocks the guy that JUST WALKED OUT OF HIS TV, and goes to sleep.
The next day, at an unsuccessful college protest, he encounters his first guide: General George Patton, as portrayed by Kelsey Grammer. I guess he needed a paycheck after Frasier ended, or something. He shows Michael Moore a protest that took place in 1940 (in which the students shout the same insensible catchphrases as the present), then to 1938 to see the British Prime Minister grovel before Hitler. The point: talking to evil dictators never solved anything. Then we see how if, like Michael Moore wanted, the Civil War had never happened, he would in fact be a slave owner. I fail to see the correlation, but whatever, I guess they had to wedge those "Massah" jokes in there, somehow. None of it rubs off on our hapless "hero," so Patton takes him back to the modern day college. There we get one of the few amusing moments in this crapfest: a musical number about how college professors haven't changed a lick since 1968, and are indoctrinating students with the same mindless rhetoric they've been spewing for years. Some lines from this catchy tune:
"Nothing has changed, we still think the same way. And if you think the way we do, we'll give you an A. And you get extra credit if you're poor, black, or gay. Just be sure not to pray! Yes, every thing's the same!"
Yup.
The terrorists hatch a plan to blow up a country concert at Madison Square Garden, using passes they'll acquire from Moore, who is appearing there to make a speech about how much America sucks, or something. Then Bill O' Reilly shows up - as himself. Oh, GOD NO! Bill O'Reilly liked this movie so much that he appears as himself! Several times! My brain is melting.
After appearing on O'Reilly's show, Moore is dragged along by Patton to a courthouse under siege. Under siege by...zombies?!? Awesome, there are zombies in this? Oh, oh, I get it - the zombies are ACLU lawyers. Yes, to the people that wrote this movie, the ACLU (that group that will defend Americans, for free, if their civil rights have been impinged upon) are mindless zombies. Good to know where we stand. Dennis Hopper has a cameo as a shotgun-toting Judge, defending the 10 Commandments (in this case actual stone tablets posted in the courthouse) from the flesh eating lawyers trying to pry them off the wall. I'd ask if they could be more literal, but this movie wouldn't understand subtlety if it were bashed over the head with it. I did get a small kick out of two jokes during this sequence - a terrorist with a knapsack bomb is allowed through a checkpoint, where he then proclaims "Thank Allah for the ACLU!" The second bit is when Patton shoots the guy (somehow detonating the bomb) and comes back with "Enjoy your privacy rights...in HELL!" I don't know if it's Kelsey Grammer's delivery of the line, or what, but that was funny.
They make a few more stops. One destination is another 4th of July BBQ, where we see that THREE disabled children have replaced the Tiny Tim role, I guess all the better to tug at your heartstrings with. Then, it's off to the war! Here we get to see just how brave our men and women overseas are, while Micheal Moore runs around like a frightened child. There's something about this scene that really bugs me, short as it is. I've watched this film five times now (I try to be thorough) and every time this scene comes on I get a little upset. I wish I could put my finger on it. Maybe it's that, after an hour of this movie being a bully towards anyone that isn't a conservative zealot, and some of the worst slapstick I've ever seen, they choose NOW to try to fill you with patriotism. It's a sentimental, mawkish bit, and I'm calling foul, movie. It's much too late to try and win me over at this point, no matter how I feel about our soldiers.
In my first draft of this review, I did a detailed comparison of how this film related to the Charles Dickens classic it proclaims to be based on, but then the entire thing was only about a paragraph long. I'd deride it for taking such liberties, but in the end, I'm glad it differs so greatly from the source material; I don't think I could stand it if it were trying to be any more "clever." Anyway, unlike the original, our first "spirit" (Patton) takes him on most of his journey. The second one doesn't even show up until an hour in (this movie is one hour and twenty minutes long), and then only sticks around for one scene. That's probably all they could get Jon Voight to agree to, after he read this turkey. Yes, that's right - Jon Voight, Oscar winning actor, shows up as George Washington, our country's first president. He spouts some stuff about freedom while Moore yawns, then they show the site of the fallen World Trade Center. Jesus, that was unnecessary! Thankfully, it moves on quickly - to a cemetery, where Moore finds his own grave. Ah, we're back on track with the original story! Oh, and "Malone's" birth date on the headstone just happens to be April 20th...the same as Hitler's. ENOUGH ALREADY.
So, the third spirit arrives - the "Angel of freakin' Death, you turdhead," and it's *gasp* country music star Trace Adkins! So, this movie is telling me that the three great American heroes - the people I should look to that embody every aspect of what it is to be a great American - are George Patton, George Washington, and a dude that sings about trucks, or something. I'm not going to have much forehead left if you make me keep slapping it. They go see some other stuff that shows what the world would really be like if Moore got his way (apparently Detroit gets nuked), and after seeing a bunch of doctors in the morgue playing with his decapitated buttocks, he finally gets the point. What IS the point? Fuck if I know. America is good? I mean, yeah. So? So, he wakes up from his butt-fondling nightmare, and is so happy to be alive that he vows to change his ways. Does that mean this is wrapping up? Oh, no, no. There's that whole terrorist thing to resolve. DAMNIT.
He shows at the rally outside the concert, distractedly gives the bombers the backstage passes they requested, and is bundled along by his assistant. He stops off at a Port-O-Potty to collect his thoughts, where he is again visited by Patton, JFK, and Bill O'Reilly. O'Reilly isn't a spirit, he "just enjoys slapping" him. Stupid. So, Patton urges him to do the right thing (in another bit of actually amusing dialogue) and Moore runs to the nearest microphone to repent. Of course, his normally sheeplike and docile crowd turns on him, throwing vegetables, bits of wood...and an anvil. Seriously. Inside the concert, the terrorists get into place while Trace Adkins (as himself, presumably) takes the stage. The two terrorist lackeys decide they don't want to die, and inform Moore of their plot - but the opera singer from The Goonies is still out there in the crowd somewhere, and he's wired to blow! Moore takes the stage to a cacophony of boos as he tries to save everyone. Using his best logic ("Everyone that wants to blow up America, stand up!") he singles out the bad guy, saving the day. Trace Adkins serenades us with an over the top, "God bless America" country song, while Moore runs off to the docks to see his nephew Josh off to war. They have some words, he gets slapped by a little blind girl, and the movie ends with some sentimental bullshit about how great America is. Oh, and there's a great use of the "Wilhelm scream" (look it up if you aren't familiar) when all the little diseased kiddies fall off the docks simultaneously. Leslie Nielsen tells his captive audience about how everything is great, now, and the frakking credits finally role.
Ugh, look - I'm about as liberal as one can get while still retaining mental functions, but that's not what upsets me about this movie. Done correctly, you could completely lambaste everything I hold dear, and still have me in tears laughing. I, for one, can take a joke.This isn't about what your personal beliefs are, be they left or right, liberal or conservative - this is about entertainment. I've seen people on message boards comparing this movie to Team America - while not an accurate comparison, it does have similarities in that they both take famous leftists, and completely skewer them. The difference? Team America was kinda funny. I don't care if George Bush is your personal God, Rush Limbaugh his holy progeny, and Newt Gingrich is your holy ghost; you should still hate this movie, because IT IS NOT FUNNY. IT IS NOT ENTERTAINING IN ANY SHAPE, FORM, OR FASHION. I honestly can't even see this appealing to someone post-lobotomy, it is THAT much of an insult to the brain. The jokes, as they are, are appalling. The message is nil (except that America, in some vague way, KICKS FUCKING ASS!), and the entire proceedings will leave you scratching your head, wondering where the time went and feeling just ever so slightly dumber.
The Anti Preservation Society was founded with the idea that, by wiping crap like this from the face of the Earth, we ALL benefit a little. It's in the spirit of inclusion and brotherhood that I submit this film, which I hope to one day burn all prints of in a big, pro-America 4th of July bonfire. You should come, I grill a mean hotdog.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Cool as Ice? WORD!
Sniggleplatz has been on my back about this movie for what seems like months now. It has sat, languishing on the shelf on the entertainment center, for longer than that.
I'm talking about Cool as Ice.
This is a film that you really can't just sit down and pop in. It requires preparation. To meet the requirements for viewing, I spent an afternoon at the skating rink, then drank a case of Bartles & Jaymes, and spent an hour teasing my hair.
I was READY. I OWNED 1991. BRING IT!
The movie opens with some sort of random dance scene in what looks like an old shipping/receiving department. I suppose that the only reason the scene exists is to establish, beyond a reasonable doubt, that Vanilla Ice is the SHIT.
Having made that abundantly clear, the "posse" heads out on their zippy little motorcycles, headed for someplace else. I'm not sure where they were going, because I was having trouble opening up the last wine cooler, so I might have missed something.
Johnny (I can't think of him like this though, everytime he steps into the frame I see Vanilla Ice, he simply cannot inhabit a character) takes a few moments to endanger the life of a horse and its rider by bunny hopping his bike over a fence. What the hell? He has mad bike skillz yo.
So his posse gets stuck in some tiny town, and he hits on some chick, and what passes for a plot drones on, with frequent pauses for Vanilla to clench his jaw and look at the camera with what passes for brooding in his stock of emotional displays.
Forget the plot though, and lets talk about the wardrobe! Remember when we are talking about here, 1991, and still this stuff is out of control. The whole movie looks like the power rangers exploded all over it, leaving behind a trail of neon and bad hair. Vanilla's seem to stand out the worst, because he is in front of the camera so much. I suppose it is supposed to illustrate the differences between 'nilla and his posse versus the stuffy, stuck up townspeople, but it just makes them look stupid. And seizure inducing.
I read somewhere that the movie was supposed to be a reimagining of Rebel Without a Cause, but I really don't care. It says a lot that I don't care, because when I was younger, and this movie came out, I was a HUGE Vanilla Ice fan. We had choreographed routines for "Ice Ice Baby" on the playground. I couldn't get enough of him (I can't believe I am admitting that), but I HATED this movie.
At the end of the day, the movie is really nothing more than a promotional vehicle for Vanilla Ice (the man, the myth, the music). I can't imagine ANYONE during preproduction thinking this was going to be a "for serious" film. At least I hope not. The last ten minutes of the movie consists of Mr. Ice in some sort of Two Face suit, rapping about something, I'm not sure what, because by this time, I was sideways on the couch with tears leaking out of my eyes.
I'm going to leave you with one last dose of holy hell, just because I can, and because this movie is something you have to pass on before it eats through your skull and comes leaking down over your face.
Enjoy!
I'm talking about Cool as Ice.
Aw yeah!
I was READY. I OWNED 1991. BRING IT!
The movie opens with some sort of random dance scene in what looks like an old shipping/receiving department. I suppose that the only reason the scene exists is to establish, beyond a reasonable doubt, that Vanilla Ice is the SHIT.
Having made that abundantly clear, the "posse" heads out on their zippy little motorcycles, headed for someplace else. I'm not sure where they were going, because I was having trouble opening up the last wine cooler, so I might have missed something.
Johnny (I can't think of him like this though, everytime he steps into the frame I see Vanilla Ice, he simply cannot inhabit a character) takes a few moments to endanger the life of a horse and its rider by bunny hopping his bike over a fence. What the hell? He has mad bike skillz yo.
So his posse gets stuck in some tiny town, and he hits on some chick, and what passes for a plot drones on, with frequent pauses for Vanilla to clench his jaw and look at the camera with what passes for brooding in his stock of emotional displays.
I'm all emotional, yo!
Lets go ahead and establish that we know we will be hearing a whole truckload of Vanilla Ice songs, why don't we? The only problem with that is, Vanilla Ice, while a mediocre rapper, is a HORRIBLE singer. This causes the movie to drag on and on while they set up these ridiculous scenarios where he will be near a microphone.
Forget the plot though, and lets talk about the wardrobe! Remember when we are talking about here, 1991, and still this stuff is out of control. The whole movie looks like the power rangers exploded all over it, leaving behind a trail of neon and bad hair. Vanilla's seem to stand out the worst, because he is in front of the camera so much. I suppose it is supposed to illustrate the differences between 'nilla and his posse versus the stuffy, stuck up townspeople, but it just makes them look stupid. And seizure inducing.
Don't diss mah peeps!
I read somewhere that the movie was supposed to be a reimagining of Rebel Without a Cause, but I really don't care. It says a lot that I don't care, because when I was younger, and this movie came out, I was a HUGE Vanilla Ice fan. We had choreographed routines for "Ice Ice Baby" on the playground. I couldn't get enough of him (I can't believe I am admitting that), but I HATED this movie.
At the end of the day, the movie is really nothing more than a promotional vehicle for Vanilla Ice (the man, the myth, the music). I can't imagine ANYONE during preproduction thinking this was going to be a "for serious" film. At least I hope not. The last ten minutes of the movie consists of Mr. Ice in some sort of Two Face suit, rapping about something, I'm not sure what, because by this time, I was sideways on the couch with tears leaking out of my eyes.
WTF?
I'm going to leave you with one last dose of holy hell, just because I can, and because this movie is something you have to pass on before it eats through your skull and comes leaking down over your face.
Enjoy!
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