Film Review: VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED (1995, John Carpenter)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 99 minutes.
Tag-line: "Beware the children."
Notable Cast or Crew: Christopher Reeve (SUPERMAN, SOMEWHERE IN TIME), Kirstie Alley (CHEERS, STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN), Linda Kozlowski (CROCODILE DUNDEE, CROCODILE DUNDEE II), Michael Paré (STREETS OF FIRE, EDDIE AND THE CRUISERS, THE PHILADELPHIA EXPERIMENT), Mark Hamill (CORVETTE SUMMER, BODY BAGS, STAR WARS), Peter Jason (THEY LIVE, MORTAL KOMBAT, 48 HRS., DEADWOOD), George "Buck" Flower (BACK TO THE FUTURE, THE FOG).  Music by John Carpenter and Dave Davies (of "The Kinks").  Cinematography by Gary B. Kibbe (THEY LIVE, IN THE MOUTH OF MADNESS, BODY BAGS).  Screenplay by David Himmelstein (POWER, BAD COMPANY), based on the novel by John Wyndham (DAY OF THE TRIFFIDS, THE KRAKEN WAKES).
Best One-liner:  "Well, ain't ya gonna do somethin', or ya just gonna cry like all the other little pissants? Well do somethin', goddammit!"

VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED '95 has a less than stellar reputation, and, sure, it feels a little more like a feature length X-FILES episode than a Carpenter film,

and yeah, Kirstie Alley doesn't make for the best "Cigarette-Smoking Man,"

and maybe there's some dodgy CGI,

 Or is that CG-eye?

and on the poster, the children's faces are weirdly compressed like the graphic designer was trying out Photoshop for the first time, and the best pull quote on the back cover seems to be "One scarifying trip!" from the New York Times.  Despite all of this, I really stand by VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED; it's an effective thriller, and while it's not as memorable as the gloomy, psychotic fantasia of IN THE MOUTH OF MADNESS which Carpy directed the previous year, it's deeply atmospheric, often suspenseful, and occasionally fun.  I reject the claims that it doesn't "feel" like a Carpenter film––and in fact would like to take a moment to judge a few elements of VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED in context of the greater Carpenter oeuvre.


#1.  The ambiance. Atmospherically speaking, it's incredibly solid.  Shot mainly in Point Reyes and Inverness, California––the same locale as THE FOG––we have plenty of seaside beauty, melancholy landscapes,



and a warm, almost Norman Rockwell-by-way-of-Stephen King vibe.


For me, the "likability" of the community in a piece like VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED is paramount, and Carpenter establishes his "Midwich" as a nostalgic idyll, a refuge from a complex world.

And everything was going so well...


#2. The emptiness.  Dean Cundey, who served as Carpenter's lead cinematographer from 1978-1986, was a master of capturing the blank spaces Carpenter frequently seeks.  To Carpy, the void is often scarier than the boogeyman––for instance, watch the closing shots of HALLOWEEN, THE FOG advancing on deserted streets, or the ominous corridors of the Antarctic base in THE THING.  Post-BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA, Gary B. Kibbe became Carpenter's go-to cinematographer, and his style is slightly drier, his colors a little more muted, his visuals a little crisper.  (Kibbe's more of a meat n' potatoes cinematographer, while Cundey was prone to flourishes of the baroque.)

In the film's first major setpiece––whereupon the entire town loses consciousness and a mysterious and dark force impregnates the fertile women––we are treated to static images of townspeople, passed out in the midst of their everyday activities.



It plays to Carpenter's fascinations, but Kibbe puts his own spin on it; I think that the fusion of their sensibilities is much of what comes to define latter-day Carpenter.


#3.  The music.  Carpenter teams up with Dave Davies, co-founder of The Kinks, on the score, and it's a curious one.  The major theme feels like mid-era Carpenter synth work, but the incidental tracks are lower-key than usual; lots of Ry Cooder-style guitar strumming, moody strings, and low-key percussion.  It often sounds more like the soundtrack to a drama than a horror film, but when the stops come out (on a climactic track like "March of the Children") it's a more orchestral version of the relentless, pounding Carpy sound we've come to expect.


#4.  Carpy cameo! As "Rip Haight" (an acting pseudonym Carpenter also used on MEMOIRS OF AN INVISIBLE MAN), the "Man at Gas Station Phone,"


Carpenter seems to be wearing Jerry Seinfeld's wardrobe (down to the enormous white sneakers) while he makes a phone call from a Midwich gas station.  His only real character flourish is checking the change tray for leftover quarters.  I theorize that he's still playing "Paul," Annie's boyfriend from HALLOWEEN (see: #8 from my review), a voiceover-only character who whinily browbeats his babysitter girlfriend into picking him up, during which she is murdered by Michael Myers.  I like to believe that Paul moved to Midwich later in life, where he is often stranded at gas stations and must call his ladyfriends for rides.


#5.  George "Buck" Flower.


A veteran of six Carpenter films (THE FOG, ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK, STARMAN, THEY LIVE, BODY BAGS, and this), Buck Flower can be seen here doing what he does best: getting hobo drunk.  As "Carlton" the school janitor, Buck has many opportunities to be irascible and sloppy, and one of my favorite moments in the film sees him taunting the Aryan, telepathic children––with destructive results.


#6. Peter Jason.

Jason, a familiar face who's worked with Carpenter on seven occasions (PRINCE OF DARKNESS, THEY LIVE, BODY BAGS, IN THE MOUTH OF MADNESS, this, ESCAPE FROM L.A., and GHOSTS OF MARS) has a small role as one of the new "fathers" in the community.  He takes his bit part seriously and exudes the proper pathos, even though at least one-third of his screentime sees him hurtling toward a propane tank.  Nice work, Pete!


#7. Since his appearance in a Tobe Hooper-directed but Carpenter-produced segment of BODY BAGS, I think we can technically count Mark Hamill among the Carpenter stable of actors.

Here, he's kind of "Jeffrey Combs-ing" it, playing a local preacher with wild-eyed fervor.  He shouts things like "We need fingerpaints!"

Luke Skywalker: "We need fingerpaints!"

and eventually attempts Rambo-style revenge against the telepathic children

with mixed results.



#7.  Mobs, mobs, mobs!  Many Carpenter films clobber the audience with a mob of drooling, violent, and wild-eyed maniacs, from the "Street Thunder" gang in ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13 to the "Crazies" in ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK to the "Lords of Death" in BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA to the book-addled masses in IN THE MOUTH OF MADNESS to the vamps in VAMPIRES.  Other times, the mob is governed by a hive mind––a quieter, more BODY SNATCHERS-style horde––like the ghost lepers in THE FOG, the duplicates in THE THING, the aliens/yuppies in THEY LIVE, the possessed in PRINCE OF DARKNESS, or the ghosts in GHOSTS OF MARS.  VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED has both types of mob: in the eerie, uniform children we have the latter:


and in the (eventually) reactionary townspeople, with their torches and FRANKENSTEIN rakes, we have the former:

It's a grand convergence of two of Carpenter's most pervasive themes.

Moving beyond the Carpenter-centric analysis, I'd like to delve into a few other elements that really work (and a few that don't) in VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED.  I appreciate that Carpenter lingers on the "pre-birth" sections of the novel, something the 1960 version downplays (Carpenter, with a 99 minute runtime, has more opportunity to extrapolate than the tight-as-a-drum, 77 minute original).  

One of my favorite scenes from the original novel sees a mother changing her baby's diaper, but then: "in changing the baby's napkin she had pricked him with a pin.  Whereupon, by her account, the baby had just looked steadily at her with its golden eyes, and made her start jabbing the pin into herself."  This creepy happening, sadly, appears in neither film version, though Carpenter transposes a similar scenario to the kitchen, where a mother (Karen Kahn) is unable to stop herself from submerging her hand in the boiling stovetop while her toddler daughter stares her down with alien detachment.

It's an effective, cringe-inducing (in a good way) bit of tension.

The lead "Child of the Damned," Mara (Lindsey Haun), is perfectly cast.  She's able to construct an icy, malevolent presence

and has a genuinely otherworldly stare, even before the CG-eyes kick in. She could've played THE BAD SEED, easy.

Michael Paré shows up in a bit part with an "aw-shucks," Americana likability,

and Linda Kozlowski (of CROCODILE DUNDEE!) carries the proper emotive substance as a concerned mother (though I wish they'd given her more to do than look sad and occasionally panicked).

Christoper Reeve, one of my all-time favorites, basically steals the show as a likable, small-town doctor who tackles the problem of the Children first-hand.

 

He's completely "present" no matter how ridiculous the scene, and he injects a great deal of dramatic weight into his performance, even when his scene partner is Kirstie Alley. 

Speaking of whom, the less said, the better.  It's not that she's "terrible," per sé, she's just miscast. We're to believe that she's a slick, upper-level government epidemiologist, a "Men in Black" type, and is playing it not so differently from a certain bar manager.

She struggles with the tone and several of her line-readings are jaw-droppingly bad.  It really should have been somebody like Laura Dern, Diane Lane, or Anjelica Huston.

Anyway, I'm not calling it essential Carpenter, but it's pretty damn good.  Four stars.

2015 HALLOWEEN COUNTDOWN

1.  SCANNERS (1981, David Cronenberg)

2.  MICHAEL IRONSIDE: MENTAL SABOTEUR (2014, Karen Stetler)

3.  NOMADS (1986, John McTiernan)

4.  THE STUFF (1985, Larry Cohen)

5.  THE BEACH (2000, Danny Boyle)

6.  CHILD'S PLAY 2 (1990, John Lafia)

7.  NIGHT OF THE DEMONS (1988, Kevin S. Tenney)
8. ...

Book Review: SPLINTER OF THE MIND'S EYE (1978, Alan Dean Foster)

Stars:  3 of 5.
Length:  199 pages.
Publisher:  Del Rey/Ballantine, NY.
Tag-line: "Stranded on a jungle planet, Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia found themselves desperately racing Imperial stormtroopers to claim a gem that had mysterious powers over THE FORCE"

Now this is a true curiosity.  A quickie paperback sequel to STAR WARS that used inside info of George Lucas' original drafts of the script (with his blessing) to build a smaller, more intimate storyline that might have been the actual movie sequel to STAR WARS had the first film not been such a resounding success.

The plot follows Luke, Leia, C-3PO, and R2-D2 as they travel to the Circarpous system to spread the Rebellion and recover a mysterious force-focusing crystal on the planet Mimban.  Darth Vader makes a brief appearance at the end, also hunting for the crystal.  Ben Kenobi is mentioned a few times, though Han and Chewbacca are nowhere to be found (Han warrants one mention only, on the penultimate page, when Luke argues in passing, "I know another man, a smuggler and a pirate, who once thought the same way as you.").  

It's a strange, quick read (it's one of those books you can finish in an hour and a half) that feels sort of quaint (droids are persistently called 'droids throughout, for instance) in light of the actual STAR WARS sequels, and any die hard fan will find much amusement in its pages.  Therefore, without further ado, here are my ten strangest/most hideous/favorite things about SPLINTER OF THE MIND'S EYE:

#10.  The level of self-seriousness.  First off, the title: SPLINTER OF THE MIND'S EYE.  It's already striving for something greater than "STAR WARS." STAR WARS gets straight to the point: you got yer stars, you got yer wars, and there you go.  "SPLINTER OF THE MIND'S EYE" sounds partway between a Tennessee Williams play and a Daphne Du Maurier short story and a Philip K. Dick novel. This seriousness sometimes extends to the prose.  For instance, the opening line had me chuckling out loud:

"How beautiful was the universe, Luke thought.  How beautifully flowing, glorious, and aglow like the robe of a queen."

Now, in context, the first movie began with pew-pew laser-blastin' spacecraft screaming across a field of stars...  that I've always considered to be much like like the robe of a queen.

Pictured: the robe of a queen.

#9.  The names.  Alan Dean Foster definitely nails Lucas' (more recent) propensity for unwieldy names:  Circarpousians, Kaiburr Crystals, The Temple of Pomojema, Captain-Supervisor Grammel...  er– Captain-Supervisor Grammel?  Seriously?  There is no precedent in the first film for the rank of Captain-Supervisor.  That's unwieldiness for unwieldiness' sake. And I kinda like that.

#8.  So much Luke and Leia romance.  SO MUCH LUKE AND LEIA ROMANCE.

This was more than enough already.

I realize that they peck in STAR WARS and kiss in THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK and that we don't know their actual sibling relationship until halfway through RETURN OF THE JEDI, but in retrospect this stuff is extraordinarily awkward, and most of it feels culled from a trashy Harlequin paperback:

"The other [Leia]...  whenever he looked at her, the other caused emotions to boil within him like soup too long on the fire, no matter if she was separated from him by near vacuum as at present or by only an arm's length in a conference room."

"Awkwardly pressed up against him, the Princess seemed to take no notice of their proximity.  In the dampness, though, her body heat was near palpable to Luke and he had to force himself to keep his attention on what he was doing."

"Disheveled and caked with mud from the waist down, she was still beautiful."

Luke does some sleeper creepin':

"It was not the face of a Princess and a Senator or a leader of the Rebel Alliance, but instead that of a chilled child.  Moistly parted in sleep, her lips seemed to beckon to him.  He leaned closer, seeking refuge from the damp green and brown of the swamp in the hypnotic redness."

At one point Luke and Leia must (?!) undress in front of each other:

"She put her hands on seal-curve hips, cocked her head to one side and stared meaningfully at him.  'Oh,' he murmured, half-smiling.  He turned away and continued undressing."

At another point, in a great leap forward for gender relations, Leia must role-play as Luke's servant-girl in order to fool the local authorites:

"He thought furiously.  'No, she's... uh, I bought her.'  Leia twitched, stared at him a moment before returning resolutely to her food.  'Yes, she's a servant of mine.  Spent all my earnings on her.' ... Her shoulders shook.  'But she was the best I could afford.  And she's kind of amusing to have around, though she tends to get out of line at times and I have to slap her down.'

#7.  As a writer myself, I'm always on the lookout for bad sentences, the sort that jut out of the page and fall straight on their faces.  Usually, they are ambitious sentences; a simple sentence has fewer ways in which it can go wrong.  In any event, bad sentences can happen to good writers, and Alan Dean Foster is no exception:

"While most of it tasted like reprocessed X-Wing fuselage insulation, a couple of the subterranean gourmet delights were downright flavorful."

"We could find ourselves marooned forever on this empty world, without companionship, without knowledge tapes, without... without lubricants!"

"She did as she was told, the motion generating squelching sounds from the bog."

"Air!  Most delicious of gases, it filled his starved lungs, those weakened bellows pumping harder with every fresh breath."

"Swear it!" She [Leia] demanded, her voice that of a steel kitten."

#6.  Pre-Yoda speak.  At one point, Luke pontificates, "Survive we will, if the Force is with us."  The man hasn't even met Yoda yet!


#5.  Lovecraft references.  At one point, beloved Lovecraft descriptors like "eldritch," "stygian," "abyssal," and  "sepulchral" appear within the same paragraph.  The only one missing is "Cyclopean."  As they say, everybody loves Lovecraft.


#4.  Brief social commentary.  On the planet Mimban, the underclass' plight is addressed:

"She gestured, and they saw the degraded, crawling beggars pleading with patrons for a chance to perform the most servile acts in return for a sip of alcohol."

Holy shit– Imperial policies have created a society of deviant hobo drunks!

The STAR WARS universe and this guy seem like they'd be a good fit.


#3.  After cutting off a ruffian's hand with his lightsaber, the Mimban locals give Luke the nickname "Saberman."  Boy, I wish that name would've stuck!

"Use the force, Saberman."


#2.  Foster is forced to expand on little throwaway bits from the first movie because at this point, it represents the entirety of his source text.  Some of these are actually well-developed.

For instance, Leia is basically suffering PTSD from her encounter with the interrogation droid in the first STAR WARS movie. ("Small black worms crawled through her brain...the machine drifting into her holding cell.  The remorseless black machine, illegal, concocted by twisted Imperial scientists in defiance of every code, legal and moral... Screaming, screaming, screaming never to stop she was...").

Later, she makes Luke promise to murder her ("put that saber at your hip to my throat") if she's captured by Vader, because she won't be taken alive again.

Grand Moff Tarkin (Peter Cushing) mentions the Emperor disbanding the Imperial Senate in the first STAR WARS.  In SPLINTER OF THE MIND'S EYE, Foster tries to address how this is putting undue pressure on the local system Governors, who no longer have Senate infrastructure and don't always have access to Imperial military.  While it's kind of bureaucratic in a PHANTOM MENACE kind of way, I appreciate the effort.


#2.  Darth Vader is a total perv.  I guess the dudes's always been into leather and bondage and asphyxiation and could definitely fit in with the gas mask fetishists.

I would never say that his cape reminded me of the robe of a queen, however.

Maybe this whole time his cape has really been just one big handkerchief indicating what sorts of scenes he's into.

Would you say, "leather daddy?"

Anywho, in SPLINTER OF THE MIND'S EYE, while fighting Princess Leia Vader says the following:

"'Foolish infant.  The Force is with me, not you.'  But, he [Vader] shrugged amiably, "we will see."  He assumed a position of readiness.  'Come, girl-woman... amuse me.'"

Er–  did you really just say that?

"Yes," Vader observed, perverse amusement in his voice, "I can see that you do.  I am truly sorry I have nothing as elaborate to treat you to at this time.  'However,'  he added, swinging his weapon lightly, 'one can do some interesting things with a saber, you know.  I'll do my best to show you all of them if you'll cooperate by not passing out.'

WHAT!?!

In lieu of comment, I will simply remind you that we never really knew what went on inside that chamber.

#1.  Okay, so we seem to have a mix of progressive and backward thinking running throughout this book.  It takes a hardline stance on torture and Imperial hobo policy, but on servant-girl fantasy and daddy-daughter-dance protocol, it's a tad sexist.

Let me back that up: it becomes a plot element that Princess Leia can't swim.  And Luke can.  Luke, who spent the entirety of his life thus far on a desert planet.  As in, "lacking in bodies of water whatsoever."  From our brief glimpse of Leia's planet Alderaan before it's destroyed,

we can see that it's at least 75% water.  Plus, Leia clearly had Alderaanian dressage tauntauns and palace diving pools and water polo lessons and lakeshore property and sailing lessons and summer homes and all that jazz, and you don't experience all that without learning how to swim.

In SPLINTER OF THE MIND'S EYE, Luke demonstrates his lifeguarding skills on Leia and she says, "I'm sorry I was so much trouble.  I'm sorry I did so much screaming.  I... usually have better control of myself than that."  In the first STAR WARS movie we saw Leia survive torture, murder a stormtrooper at point-blank range while his blaster was set to 'stun,' and coordinate a war room.  She's a two-fisted Hawksian heroine, for sure, and she doesn't need a farm boy to fish her out of a swamp.

At least she gets to take on Darth Vader with Luke's– I mean Saberman's– lightsaber at the end, but she only holds him to a draw till Luke can extract himself from the rock that has pinned him. Luke finishes the battle but cutting off Vader's arm and knocking him down a mineshaft, which is a pretty stock ending, but what are you gonna do.

Three stars.

–Sean Gill

Film Review: CORVETTE SUMMER (1978, Matthew Robbins)

Stars: 4 of 5.

Running Time: 105 minutes.

Tag-line: "Mark Hamill who you loved in STAR WARS... Annie Potts who you'll never forget!"

Notable Cast or Crew:   Directed by Matthew Robbins (THE LEGEND OF BILLIE JEAN, DRAGONSLAYER).  Written by Robbins and Hal Barwood (THE SUGARLAND EXPRESS, the video game INDIANA JONES AND THE FATE OF ATLANTIS).  Starring Mark Hamill (STAR WARS, BODY BAGS), Annie Potts (GHOSTBUSTERS, FLATBED ANNIE AND SWEETIEPIE), Eugene Roche (SLAUGHTER-HOUSE FIVE, FOUL PLAY), Danny Bonaduce (THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY), Brion James (BLADE RUNNER, THE FIFTH ELEMENT), T.K. Carter (THE THING, RUNAWAY TRAIN), Dick Miller (CANNONBALL!, GREMLINS).  Music by Craig Safan (CHEERS, A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 4: THE DREAM MASTER).

Best One-liner:  "I DIDN'T WANT NO COKES!"

In a familiar, darkened alleyway:

–"What are we lookin' at here?"
"CORVETTE SUMMER."
–"Ugh.  Teenybopper trash.  A watered-down coming of age tale.  Luke Skywalker, reduced to an unwitting shill for Tiger Beat magazine.  No, thank you."

Note: disco ball font.

"Have you seen the movie?"
–"I don't need to see it, cause I already know what it is."
"Do you?  Do you really?"
–"I'm sure you're going to tell me, so why don't you just go ahead and get it over with."
"Here goes:  it might have seemed like fluff at the time, but CORVETTE SUMMER is a teen sex/car comedy packed with surprisingly potent life lessons.  It's got an off-the-chain young Mark Hamill performance that skates wildly between Brando-esque Angry Young Man and Lorenzo Lamas-esque unintentional hilarity."
–"'Potent life lessons?'  Surely you jest."
"Well it's the story of a D-average high school student (Hamill) whose only passion in life is cars.  He devotes his senior year to the auto shop, building and perfecting a candy apple red metal flake Corvette Stingray glitter-flame Dragon Wagon!"

–"That's a mouthful.  And holy cow, wouldja look at that thing!"
"Exactly.  You've seen Luke Skywalker tool around in a landspeeder before, but I'm guessing you've never seen anything like this!"
–"You may have won me over.  I could probably watch that car for 105 minutes."
"Just you wait.  Events take a turn for the dramatic when Danny Bonaduce takes it out to a fast food joint to grab some Cokes and it's stolen."
–"WHAAAT?!"

"He just went out for some Cokes in a top hat and left the car unattended on the side of the road, even though there was a drive-thru.  It could happen to anybody."
–"How does Hamill take it?"
"Not well.  He starts getting that crazy, conflicted look in his eye, like Al Pacino does in THE GODFATHER right before he guns down Sterling Hayden and the other guy in that Italian restaurant.

Then he lets the beast out:

'I DIDN'T WANT NO COKES!'

and leaps onto Bonaduce!  Cokes go flying everywhere!  It's brutal.  A well-deserved beat-down ensues."

–"That looks intense!"
"It is.  Now he's got nothin' to live for except that car.  And like Pee-Wee Herman in PEE-WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE, he begins to hunt down the vehicle-of-his-affections with dogged and unwavering intensity.

'ATTICA!  ATTICA!!'  (Whoops, wrong movie.)

It's something to behold.  I mean, sure, he spends parts of the movie lookin' like a prettyboy and blowing his own wind-tousled hair with the aid of an air compressor:

but the other half of the time he's giving crazy-eye like the best of 'em, like Bolo Yeung in BLOODSPORT or Mel Gibson in LETHAL WEAPON or Brion James in almost anything.  I'll come back to this.

Anyway, he tracks the car all the way to Vegas and, broke and busted, has a chance encounter with career gambler Dick Miller who gives him his 'lucky $2 bill.'

Dick Miller's only in this thing for a few minutes, but he plays it with crusty élan, like a man who'd gamble on anything if he was bored enough.  He could definitely be a character in Altman's CALIFORNIA SPLIT or anything by Bukowski.
So after getting a head-start on the car hunt, Hamill embarks on a series of shitty jobs to support himself and has a romance with aspirant van-based hooker Annie Potts."
–"Whu-whu--whutttttt?!"

"Yeah.  She's got this amazing, sleazy-chic disco van with a waterbed in the back, where she says things like 'how do you like that ocean motion' and can be found after hours making cocktails in her mouth.

Sips of Sunny-D alternated with sips of a bottom-shelf vodka whose name you can't pronounce= the only kind of Screwdriver you're gonna get in the back of Annie Potts' sleazy-chic disco van.

Eventually, Hamill loses his virginity, resulting in mania:

and dazed melancholy:

–"Luke Skywalker gettin' laid.  Ohhh yah."
"Shut it.  So he's working at a shitty car wash with THE THING's T.K. Carter:

when he sees none other than Brion James (most widely known for telling Harrison Ford 'Wake up, time to die' in BLADE RUNNER)

driving his beloved, stolen Stingray.  After cruelly taunting him with the line 'Bye-bye little buddy,' James peels out, leaving Hamill fuming."
–"What's a poor Hamill to do?"
"This is where it gets amazing.  He hides behind a mailbox and ambushes an unassuming cyclist:

forcing a collision that easily could have resulted in paralysis for either party:


Then he steals the poor sap's bike and takes after Brion James."
–"What chance does a bicycle have against a Stingray?"
"Not much at all.  That is, unless the cyclist is using The Force."


–"You gotta be shittin' me."
"Indeed I am not.  And this happens only partway through the film.  I don't want to give too much away, but there's totally a portion of the movie when Luke– I mean Mark Hamill– turns to The Dark Side."

–"Wow, that's exactly what a 'Dark Jedi in a Shopping Montage' should look like."
"Yeah, and I haven't even touched on Dark Side Hamill objectifying Annie Potts when her character's at her most vulnerable."

–"Now you're starting to ruin my childhood, pal!"
"Well, in closing I'll say this: CORVETTE SUMMER isn't your typical teen sex comedy, not by a long shot.  Hamill's character has an absentee father (and even his surrogate father figure betrays him), a possible prostitute mother (further complicating his relationship with sex worker Potts) who doesn't care a whit about him, and his 'whacky summer' is beset by shitty jobs, grifter schemes, apathy, violence, and injustice. Potts' character is at one point beaten by potential johns, and throughout undergoes the ups and downs of being valued as a human being and then as a sexual commodity.  It's a true blue-collar teen movie, which is to say, it's about a crooked world full of disappointment, crushing disappointment."
–"Now I'm just depressed."
"Well, there's a lot of fun stuff in there, too.  CORVETTE SUMMER refuses to be defined by a single mood or sensation.  Not unlike real life."
–"Deep, man."
"Yup."

–Sean Gill