Only now does it occur to me... is PHANTASM II (1988) good? I thought so, back when I saw it for the first time, about fifteen years ago.
The budget is ten times larger (at $3 million) than PHANTASM's, and Universal Pictures put its major studio heft behind it (though it was the cheapest movie that Universal produced in the 1980s and generally feels like an upper-tier New World Picture).
The Greg Nicotero and Robert Kurtzman SFX are solid,
and the cinematography by Daryn Okada is crisp and impressive.
They've changed up the essential formula from melancholy horror to sci-fi actioner, and it's somehow the median point between EVIL DEAD 2, ALIENS, and TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2 on the "horror sequel reinvention" scale. Maybe it's the RETURN TO SALEM'S LOT of PHANTASM sequels?
In the lead role of "Mike," indie child actor A. Michael Baldwin has been upgraded (?) to '80s-'90s standby James LeGros (POINT BREAK, DRUGSTORE COWBOY) who basically plays him as THE EXTERMINATOR.
Slow-jammin' Ice Cream Man Reggie Bannister is back, baby,
as is Angus Scrimm, who is always a sobering, dangerous presence and, as the "Tall Man," wears the scariest bob haircut of all time.
The sentinel sphere gang even gets a new member, in the form of a gold-plated, lightsaber-laser-wielding (?) video-game-boss-looking gadget.
This movie features a four-barreled shotgun, for godssakes.
There are a lot more explosions per capita, that's for sure.
Does this mean the movie is good, though? Not precisely. It doesn't have the craftsmanship or sheer adrenaline (or budget) of ALIENS, the satire of TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2, or the comedy of EVIL DEAD 2––though we do get one of the most ludicrous sex scenes of all time with Reggie the Ice Cream Man ("You're a bald, middle-aged former ice cream vendor," says LeGros' Mike) cavorting with a mostly unexplained hitchhiking fashion model, in a scene so gratuitous that Reggie Bannister's actual wife insisted on being on set, just out of frame, for the duration.
The actress playing the hitchhiker––Samantha Phillips––cannot keep a straight face throughout, possibly due to the proximity of Reggie's wife, and her unabashed mockery of the scene almost reclaims it from the male gaze. If this film offers Reggie as a sex symbol (and he plays it... like Clint Howard doing James Bond?), Samantha offers, through her performance, a sly retort.
While watching the film, I, too, had something like a dumb grin on my face for much of the duration––it's a movie that feels like it shouldn't exist, as if it were inexplicable, higher-budget fan fiction of an obscure indie. It's chock full of references for genre nerds, like Alex Murphy's grave (Peter Weller from ROBOCOP)
or a bag full of Sam Raimi's ashes
(as well as some Raimi-inspired POV shots
and an arch moment of self-amputation).
There's a weird whiskey priest subplot that goes nowhere, extended chainsaw duels,
rat-exploding lasers,
and the poetic use of "Suck on this!" as a third-act one-liner.
In the end, this is all more of a curiosity than a genre classic, but I suppose I'm glad that it exists? It seems that for most PHANTASM "phans," they either love part 2 and dislike part 3, or they dislike part 2 and love part 3. As you will soon see, I'm much closer to being in the latter camp.
Notable
Cast or Crew: Starring Bridget Fonda (JACKIE BROWN, A SIMPLE PLAN), Campbell Scott (THE SPANISH PRISONER, LONGTIME COMPANION), Matt Dillon (THE OUTSIDERS, RUMBLE FISH), Kyra Sedgwick (BORN ON THE FOURTH OF JULY, PHENOMENON), Sheila Kelly (SOAPDISH, NURSE BETTY), Pearl Jam, and for the rest, see review. A soundtrack featuring Pearl Jam, Mudhoney, Smashing Pumpkins, Mother Love Bone, Jane's Addiction, Pixies, R.E.M., Alice in Chains, Soundgarden, and others.
Tag-line: "Love is a game. Easy to start. Hard to finish."
Best one-liner: "Come to where the flavor is. Come to Debbie country."
This isn't going to be a full-blown review, per sé, but let me tell you something that I found surprising: SINGLES holds up. In terms of intelligent, 1990s, twenty-something comedy-dramas, it cannot touch my favorites (Baumbachs like KICKING AND SCREAMING, MR. JEALOUSY, and HIGHBALL, or Stillmans like METROPOLITAN, BARCELONA, and THE LAST DAYS OF DISCO), but it's got a fun, occasionally profound, indie-Seattle-grunge authenticity to it– in the music, in the fashion, and in the state of mind. Cameron Crowe's positive energy is infectious, and even when the proceedings occasionally dip into sappier territory, you're still along for the ride (in his early work, at least). Sort of a guilty pleasure, but I recommend it, if the mood strikes.
Anyway, this is all pretty much a lead up to a brief feature I call: 9 FACES I WAS NOT EXPECTING TO SEE IN SINGLES:
#1. Paul Giamatti (AMERICAN SPLENDOR, COSMOPOLIS) as a creepy dude, making out in public with his girlfriend... and sucking on her hair.
#2. Victor Garber (EXOTICA, TITANIC, ARGO), briefly glimpsed as a sensitive dad dreamboat-type.
#3. Ally Walker (SONS OF ANARCHY, the moxie-filled reporter and JCVD love interest in UNIVERSAL SOLDIER!) as a bitchy, cardigan-wearing roommate.
#4. Tom Skerritt (ALIEN, SPACECAMP, BIG BAD MAMA, CHEERS) as the semi-skeezy Mayor of Seattle.
#5. Jeremy Piven (DR. JEKYLL AND MS. HYDE, THE PLAYER, SAY ANYTHING) as an obnoxious drug store clerk.
#6. Bill Pullman (THE SERPENT AND THE RAINBOW, MALICE) as a surprisingly pathos-filled breast augmentation surgeon.
#7. 90s standby Eric Stoltz (MR. JEALOUSY, PULP FICTION, SAY ANYTHING, ANACONDA) as a talking mime, exactly the sort of quirky character actor bit that he can pull off, flawlessly, but would probably be annoying if someone else tried it.
#8. James LeGros (FATAL BEAUTY, POINT BREAK, SAFE, THE RAPTURE, GUNCRAZY) as a pretentious, ponytailed giver of advice. Always good to see you, Mr. LeGros.
#9. And finally, Tim Burton, described as "the next Martin Scor-SEES" as an existentialism-obsessed director of dating service videos.
I cannot top that. Amen.
Stars: 4 of 5. Running Time: 94 minutes. Notable Cast or Crew: Directed by Kathryn Bigelow (THE LOVELESS, THE HURT LOCKER, POINT BREAK). Written by Bigelow and Eric Red (THE HITCHER, BODY PARTS). Music by Tangerine Dream. Starring Adrian Pasdar (SOLARBABIES, TOP GUN), Jenny Wright (PINK FLOYD'S THE WALL; I, MADMAN), Lance Henriksen (ALIENS, THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM), Bill Paxton (TRUE LIES, ALIENS), Tim Thomerson (DOLLMAN, TRANCERS), Joshua John Miller (TEEN WITCH, RIVER'S EDGE). Cinematography by Adam Greenberg (THE TERMINATOR, 10 TO MIDNIGHT, 3 MEN AND A BABY). Tag-line: "Killing you would be easy, they'd rather terrify you...forever." Best one-liner: "Caleb, those people back there, they wasn't normal. Normal folks, they don't spit out bullets when you shoot 'em, no sir." (Later paraphrased in FROM DUSK TILL DAWN.)
I'm sure a fair amount of you have seen NEAR DARK. For those who haven't, it's a two-fisted, shit-kickin' vampire Western that sort of combines all of my favorite things about THE LOST BOYS, Carpenter's VAMPIRES, and POINT BREAK. It slits your throat with a sharpened spur, sears your skin, and explodes in a grotesque display of vampiric immolation. Now, with that in mind, take a gander at the DVD re-release cover: Sweet God- my worst fears realized- NEAR DARK appropriated by the lily-livered aficionados of TWILIGHT, CGI, and unbridled airbrushing! But it doesn't matter– here's nine reasons why, even if it's remade and/or commandeered by these knuckleheads, NEAR DARK will still live on as an 80's genre classic:
#1. The vampires' mode of travel: a beat-up, nasty old Recreational Vehicle. There's no sugar-coating their nomadic, hand-to-fang, poverty-stricken existence. They cruise around in a pedophile-mobile with blacked-out windows cause they've got no other choice. No Gothic mansions, no Ann Ricey-TWILIGHTY-romanticized shenanigans- it's a daily struggle for survival that's closer to Buñuel's LAND WITHOUT BREAD or Marc Singer's DARK DAYS than some TRUE BLOOD wankfest. And the RV says it all.
#2. Hey, look, it's a James LeGros cameo! If you can't appreciate the simple joy of an unexpected LeGros appearance, maybe you don't deserve to enjoy NEAR DARK. And Bigelow even spares him in the midst of a vampire rampage, thus continuing to prove my theory that anybody and everybody worth their salt has a soft spot for LeGros.
#3. The Tangerine Dream score. While on the whole it's not one of their very best scores (like their work on THIEF, FLASHPOINT, or THE PARK IS MINE), certain tracks- like "Bus Station"- possess a certain, fleeting atmospheric quality, like an entrancing invitation to a dangerous fairy-tale world. In short, it's the kind of music that, even though it's looping endlessly on the DVD menu, oddly, it doesn't bother you. In fact, you're looking for an excuse not to start the movie, cause you'd kind of like to listen to Tangerine Dream for just a little longer if ya don't mind.
#4. Tim Thomerson. Undervalued. Underused. Under-recognized. And here in the kind of mainstream, stalwart, square-jawed, all-American farmer role he should have been booking more often. He's likeable, believable, and deserves to be a household name. And not just in Charles Band's household. Perhaps I exaggerate, but come on, let's hear it for Thomerson.
#5. Bill Paxton is loopier than a corkscrew. I think that the critical acclaim for a show such as BIG LOVE has made the world, to some extent, forget that Paxton made his name as one of the zaniest hombres this side of the Marx Brothers. "I hate 'em when they ain't been shaved!" he laments (as he slurps the blood from an unkempt, hirsute biker). He dances, he prances, he lacerates necks with a sharpened spur. He blows air kisses, blows people away with a six-gun, and shouts "Bullseye!" afterwards. Why a vampire would need to resort to firearms is anybody's guess, but Paxton makes it so you don't really care so long as he keeps twirlin' em and verbalizin' his smart-assed remarks. Something to ponder: are these the same pleather pants that reappear in BOXING HELENA?
"Finger-lickin' good!" he declares after a particularly fiendish bout of blood-drinking. Bravo, Paxton. Bravo.
#6. Joshua John Miller. AKA 'The Creepy Kid from RIVER'S EDGE and TEEN WITCH. Other than David Bennent, I'm unsure I can think of anyone more qualified to play the role of 'irascible, centuries old vampire trapped in a child's body.'
#7. Adam Greenberg's cinematography. Bigelow- via her then-paramour, James Cameron- had already got her hands on Paxton and Henriksen, so why not raid his DP, as well? Bigelow, originally a painter, has always been able to extract striking images from her cinematographers, and the magnificent visuals here are dusty, weather-beaten, and severe. And since I already mentioned that Bigelow was a painter, I'll also mention that her first studio was in an Off-Track Betting building. That's what NEAR DARK is, in a nutshell. Crude yet painterly visions transmitted directly from the scrap-paper and cigarette-butt strewn floors of an OTB. Print that in the paper.
#8. The way the vamps burn. More like the spontaneous combustion of a back-alley wino than a poetic end to an aristocratic villain, the slow-motion searing and flaying of skin and the blackening of their shabby, smoldering rags makes for quite a memorable, mesmerizing visual despite the grotesquery, even though I'm not sure if grotesquery is, in fact, a real word.
#9. Lance Henriksen. Gaunt, heavily scarred, possessing a wicked rat-tail, and at one point explaining that he's a Civil War veteran ("I fought for the South. We lost."), Henriksen is, as always, scary good. "Your skin is as soft as a preacher's belly," he can be heard to declare with the sort of impassive malevolence that defines his performance. His character, Jesse Hooker, is a sort of 'bottom line' kinda guy. He's not evil per se (although, uh, it is insinuated that he set the Great Chicago Fire of 1871), he just happens to look out for number one in such a way that he leaves a trail of massacred innocents and general sleazy vampire wreckage in his wake, wherever he goes, whenever he goes. He also cheekily spits up the bullets he's been shot with and uses them to taunt his adversaries. Lance Henriksen: certainly deserving a place in the vampire hall-of-fame.
Stars: 4.6 of 5. Running Time: 104 minutes. Notable Cast or Crew: Whoopi Goldberg, Sam Elliott (FROGS, THE BIG LEBOWSKI), Brad Dourif (ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST, CHILD'S PLAY), Harris Yulin (CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER, ST. IVES), Cheech Marin, Mark Pellegrino (Jacob on TV's LOST, MULHOLLAND DR.), James LeGros (DRUGSTORE COWBOY, GUNCRAZY), John P. Ryan (IT'S ALIVE, CLASS OF 1999), M.C. Gainey (Tom Friendy on TV's LOST, SIDEWAYS), Rubén Blades (PREDATOR 2, ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO), Charles Hallahan (Norris in THE THING, SILKWOOD). Music by Harold Faltermeyer (KUFFS, THE RUNNING MAN). Holy shit, the only people missing from this movie are Clu Gulager, Donald Pleasence, and James Remar. Tag-line: "An earthquake is about to hit L.A. It's called Detective Rita Rizzoli." Best one-liner: "Do you want a glass?" –"Do I want a glass? No, wrap it in a taco, dumb motherfucker, yes, I want a glass!"
FATALBEAUTY is an extremely underrated (buddy) cop thriller directed by Tom Holland (CHILD'S PLAY, FRIGHT NIGHT) and written by Hilary Henkin (ROAD HOUSE) and Dean Riesner (DIRTY HARRY). The cast is extremely eclectic and chock full of undersung, prolific 80's character actors, and Whoopi has never been more likable. There's ginormous boom boxes, zany high-heel'd hookers, chubby Latino queens channeling Divine, Cheech Marin as a smarmy bartender ("Gimme a kiss"), and Rubén Blades as a bearded, milquetoast cop who doesn't even know who Richard Gere is (zany, right?). It's a forgotten film, misplaced in a sea of BEVERLY HILLS COPS, LETHAL WEAPONS, and DIE HARDS. Discarded, derided, and disregarded, this is the sort of thing that Drug Mart puts in the 50-cent bin, then withdraws from circulation entirely 'cause no one is renting it... except me. I am renting it. And then I am proclaiming it to be a "hidden gem" for all the world to hear. So here are thirteen reasons why FATAL BEAUTY deserves its place in the pantheon, beside the likes of THE FRENCH CONNECTION and TURNER & HOOCH:
#1. John P. Ryan (R.I.P.) as the crusty Lieutenant who you love to hate. He drinks Pepto Bismol out of the bottle, smokes a pipe, and is always threatening Whoopi with that old standby– We'll stick you behind a desk if you screw up one more time, you whacky action-luvin' cop! He gets to deliver the classic "Gut feeling! We need probable cause– we can't go down to the D.A.'s office with your gut!" But then he pulls a disappearing trick halfway through the narrative and is never heard from again. It's a thankless job, and John P. Ryan has to do it. And I don't even grace him with a screencap here. That's completely unintentional, but probably an all-too-common theme for the credit owed to John P. Ryan. Lost in the shuffle. IT'S ALIVE? You probably just remember the killer baby. CLASS OF 1999? You can't think of anything but Pam Grier's robot boobs. RENT-A-COP? All you can think of is Liza getting goosed and James Remar dancing up a storm. THREE O'CLOCK HIGH? The bully. DEATH WISH 4? Bronson. WHITE SANDS? Dafoe. And John P. Ryan doesn't even get credited in that one. Where is the love? One of these days, I will devote an entire week to John P. Ryan. But, poetically, I'll probably forget that I ever promised that.
#2. M.C. Gainey and Norris from THE THING (Charles Hallahan) as two sexist cops who Whoopi schools the shit out of. In fact, that's kind of the set-up for the entire film: A. People offend Whoopi, calling her "bitch," "cunt," or by engaging in illegal activity. B. Whoopi kicks their asses and has a snazzy retort. Case in point: "Kevlar, bitch!" BLAM BLAM BLAM –"Smith & Wesson, asshole!" The retort doesn't even have to be that scathing, it just has to be sassy: "Hey, stay bent over like that and I'll show you a good time." –"Oh yeah? One quick hump and you'd be in the hospital, honey."
#3. Whoopi's style- she's got a cat like Philip Marlowe, drives around in a snazzy pink Mustang (shades of "AWSOM 50" anyone?), decorates her home with Chuck Berry paintings, shoots dudes in the ass and then tortures them, and whomps a WASPin' country club beyotch into a pool and thru plate glass window.
"Everywhere I go, people aredyin'to meet me." I didn't even get to the scene where she steals cookies from a restaurant before she leaves to abuse a suspect in the meat locker. Yes, she is awesome. I must admit, in the past I have generally had pretty lukewarm feelings on the subject of Whoopi Goldberg. Now she is a lifetime member of Junta Juleil's Hall-o-Fame.
#4. Rizzoli! I guess Whoopi is an Italian-American. Have-a some more s'getts, you look-a too thin! Whether or not the screenplay was written for a black woman is certainly open to debate, since they definitely run with some of the jokier aspects (in retrospect?). Either way, I love it.
or like a 1960's housewife-slash-debutante: her many disguises are guaranteed to delight and inspire.
#6. Mark Pellegrino as Billy Idol-lookin' punk named Frankenstein. Compare it to his character in DEATH WISH 4. It really puts a whole new spin on LOST. (And one scene in particular even eerily anticipates the Season 5 finale.) In fact, wait a minute- this movie is full of LOST alumni (M.C. Gainey, Cheech Marin). The wheels are turning. Note the black and white imagery.
#7. The guy who chews on a glass bottle for no reason. Hey, Busey lit his arm on fire in LETHAL WEAPON, so why not.
#8. Whiny James LeGros. He's the first of two characters to drop the C-bomb on Whoopi (Dourif being the other) and is referred to as a "snot nosed limp dick in designer jeans." LeGros prepares to drop the c-bomb with little to no warning.
Don't worry, though, the country club douchebomb who Whoopi whoops with such commitment and élan... is his mom.
#9. Sam Elliott. So soothing. Seriously, though, he and Werner Herzog should team up and do a radio show. The show could air from, I don't know, maybe 7-10 AM EST on weekdays, and I could set my clock radio to it, and that way I could bestir myself to something other than "Time keeps on slippin' slippin' slippin'...into the future..." which I guess is soothing in its own way, but it feels very old hat to me at this point in my life but I guess it's my own fault for having the dial tuned to a classic rock station only plays about five or six different songs. I digress. Regardless, Sam Elliot says, "I always had a thing for Italian ladies." Ro-mannnce!
#10. The eponymous cocaine blend which will kill you or drive you crazy in thirty seconds. WHATTT?! What a great plot development! It's so over-the-top and with such high stakes, that I have to say we're nearly in DEAD HEAT territory.
#11. Brad Dourif. Cast (in a pre-Chucky Tom Holland flick!) as the main villain, it doesn't matter if he's in silk shirts, ridic 80's wool sport coats or weird little red shoes- his frizzy hair is in that classic lopsided part, and he's skittering around like he's king of the drug world. He's surprisingly earnest, too. Well, at least before he starts killing everybody. We're entreated to the sight of Dourif blasting automatic weapons and shooting up innocent bystanders and security guards at a mall, which is strangely similar to the opening scene of CHILD'S PLAY- in fact, in addition to thinking of it as a second parallel universe on LOST, I'm going to start considering FATAL BEAUTY as a prequel to the Chucky movies. Hey, they both use the word "bitch" a lot.
#12. Harris Yulin. Always typecast as this sort of character. Always great at it. Lather, rinse, repeat. Is that a terrycloth smoking jacket or an especially dignified robe?
#13. The ending that may or may not involve a mustache kiss and a freeze frame, and the closing credits song "It's Criminal" by Shannon. "It's crim-in-nal. I THINK IT'S A CRIME! It's crim-in-nal. DOIN' TIME!"