Demolition Man as Post-Marxist Nostalgia

I've been in Mexico for the past month, hence no posts (not that anyone is out there in TV land anyway). Here goes.

For my money, Demolition Man, Sylvester Stallone’s 1993 sci-fi epic, is Sly pretty close to the peak of his game (obviously the Rambo and Rocky movies are on another level entirely, but this is every bit as badass as Cobra, Tango and Cash, and Over the Top—yeah, I said it). He plays John Spartan, late twentieth-century super-cop, who is wrongly convicted of blowing up some civilians and sentenced to a stint in cryo-prison. A few decades down the line, super villain Simon Phoenix (Wesley Snipes), who actually blew up all the innocent civilians Spartan was blamed for blowing up, is thawed out and unleashed on the metroplex of San Angeles, a peaceful, pussified new world, where violence is a thing of the past and everyone is a raging sissy. Since Spartan is the one who put Phoenix away the first time, and the cops are totally useless and unschooled in the way of ass kicking, they thaw out our good buddy Stallone and much mayhem ensues.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

Aliens? Why the fuck is it aliens? The only thing I hate more than “it’s aliens,” is “oh, it was all just a dream.” I can even stomach the biblical mythology from Raiders and the Last Crusade, but this is going way too far. Thanks George Lucas for fucking up yet another of the treasured cinematic memories of my youth. Don’t worry, I didn’t give anything away, the movie starts out at “Hanger 51” in the Nevada desert, so you have two hours to think about aliens and fume.

No Country for Old Men

Did anyone else notice that this movie is really fucking good?

Hostel

I finally got around to watching Hostel the other day. Are you fucking serious? Really? People like this shit? It pisses me off that when I say I like horror, this is what people assume I’m into, which is really too bad, since this has no redeeming qualities. The only things worse than this are PG-13 action and horror.

Alien vs. Predator: Requiem

I read someplace that the people who made Alien vs. Predator: Requiem hoped to make audiences forget that the first Alien vs. Predator movie ever happened. That is a worthy and noble goal, as the first movie is a dismal piece of shit. Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to make a movie that featured either the Predator or Aliens primarily about people, and PG-13 to top it off? When will people learn that anything that is supposed to be scary or violent or both will never be appropriately rendered with a PG-13 rating? There’s really only one Alien against Predator fight in the whole damn movie, for God’s sake.

Iron Man

I was skeptical going in to Iron Man, but my fears were quickly assuaged. Essentially, this is exactly what I want out of a big budget, summer blockbuster, popcorn movie.

3:10 to Yuma (2007)

The Western is back with a vengeance, and I love it. The genre is digging out of the grave like the undead, one rotten hand protruding from the dirt and mud, ready to crush the world in its zombie fingers.

Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay

I haven’t smoked weed since high school. My drug of choice now comes in a bottle or a can. That said, to this day I get a kick out of stoners and stoner humor (and dick and fart jokes for that matter—I admit it, I maintain the mentality of a stoned thirteen year old boy wolfing down an entire box of Wheat Thins).

Daredevil

I have never walked out of a movie in my life (and I saw the first two Resident Evil movies in the theater—during the second installment, I didn’t care that the one other person in the theater with me answered his phone and had a protracted conversation thirty minutes in). In fact, the first time I saw Black Cauldron in the theater in 1985, I intentionally pissed my pants so I didn’t have to miss a second of the movie by going to the bathroom. I made the right decision. So, not only have I never walked out of a movie before, it takes significantly more than a painfully full bladder to get me out of a movie theater.

Tango & Cash: A Violent Work of Art

Rambo and Snake Plissken play the title roles of Detective Ray Tango and Gabriel Cash. Tango is a slick dressing, glasses wearing, badass cop hell bent on getting his man at any cost. He’s sophisticated, well muscled, and makes a shit ton of money playing the stock market. He’s in the cop game for good old American action. We see him stand in the middle of a highway and face down a tanker truck full of blow in the movies opening scene. Sorry boys, no white Christmas this year.

Cash is another wisecracking rogue cop from the Central division. Shit is real down there. Where Tango’s station has palm trees and sunshine, Central has grey and hobos. Cash is a schlub who wears t-shirts, boots that shoot bullets out of the sole, and is not too proud to steal a slice of pizza from some dude walking by.

Monster Squad

Some people have told me that Monster Squad doesn’t hold up over the years. Those people are what I like to call, wrong.

A Bittersweet Life

Korea doesn’t fuck around. And they prove it with this existential look at the Korean mob in A Bittersweet Life.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Forgetting Sarah Marshall makes me hate that “Veronica Mars” girl a little bit less. Not because she’s great or hot or talented (she is in fact none of the above). But I now hate her a little bit less just for being involved in this movie in any way.

Juno

I finally got around to watching this years cuddly indie darling Juno. You already know what it’s about, so I won’t bore you with the details. Yeah, it was cute, and I admit there are some moments where I laughed out loud, and I do love Michael Cera, possibly the most adorably awkward human being alive. This is the kind of movie my ex would be all about for a few months, until the charm wore off and the next super-cutesy, touchy-feely lil’ flick with an annoyingly perky soundtrack came out to obsess over. It tries way too hard to be quirky and mostly just succeeds in being annoying. I imagine there are a lot of funky secretaries who quote this movie and think they’re hip and edgy.

Wild Zero

I first encountered Wild Zero, this rock’n’roll zombie escapade, at a midnight showing for the Seattle International Film Festival. The Egyptian had to delay the start by twenty minutes to accommodate the expansive restroom lines. I went based on love shared for both the undead and Guitar Wolf, the raucous Japanese trio who are the ostensible stars of the film. I was immediately infatuated, though for years I had to sate my lust with an inferior bootleg VHS copy. Synapse Films finally grew a pair and the movie got an official DVD release. I rented it from Scarecrow, watched it three times in a day and a half, and bought a copy of my very own when I returned the rental.

Heston RIP

Being a proud life-long lefty wing-nut, but also an equally committed devotee of the Cinema of the Badass, I am understandably torn by the death of Charlton Heston last week on April 5th. He opposed abortion, I try to keep abortion awesome. He opposed gun control (despite issuing a statement that supported it in 1968 after Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated), I don’t. There was precious little middle ground between our political beliefs, but that aside, films like Planet of the Apes, The Omega Man, Soylent Green and Almost an Angel impacted my life far more deeply than I care to admit.

Well, my friend, my enemy, my Moses, it will now be a little easier to pry that rifle from your cold, dead hands. Good bye, Heston, sweet, sweet Heston.