Skip’s Flicks

I’ve been so busy with whatever it is I actually do that I haven’t been watching that many movies. But here’s a rundown of what I can remember from the past month.

 

 

MAC AND ME

I might have to start a separate blog where I watch Mac and Me once a week for a year, it’s that prismatic.

 

AUTOMATION TRANSFUSION

It’s a zombie movie that looks like a Vern Fonk commercial, and the more I think about it, the more endearing it becomes. Endearingly overambitious, maybe. Sexy teens vs. 28 Days Later speedy zombies with some awful digital video “Make it look like Saving Private Ryan” shutter effects. Loads of unintentional hilarity. Dudes with tribal tattoos asking zombies, “Are you all right, bro?” before getting zombie attacked. Other lines:

“They’re not… human.”

“He bit me!”

and

“Ah! My baby.”

The “Ah! My baby.” Scene features a kid wearing a Ramones shirt with the “o” blacked out, assumingly for copyright reasons, so it just says “Ram nes.” It’s kinda awesome. Earlier in the movie a guy is busily typing on his laptop, even though the Windows User Login screen is beyond visible. Its that kinda movie, so I like it.

 

DEAD ALIVE

“I kick ass for The Lord!” It’s awesomely gross, but there’s that “isn’t this awesomely gross?!” nudge and a wink that can get just a little too… if not geeky, needy. Still, it’s radical to see something that hand-made. And I like to think I’m getting better at identifying Kiwi accents. Still no Evil Dead, that’s for damn sure.

 

SLEEPING BEAUTY

We rocked this joint in the old-skool way: on VHS son. Is this the only Disney movie without talking animals? That’s killer. With the evil and the dragons and swords and green hellfire, this is probably the most metal title from the Disney cannon. Besides the Fantasia dinosaurs.

 

SPACEBALLS

That’s right. Spaceballs.

 

BLACK BOOKS

The most undervalued of the BritComs. Smoke and wine fueled misanthropy in a book store. And every funny British person is in it. Hugely recommended.

 

LOST SEASON THREE

The Not-Your-Favorite-Beatles-Album of the Lost seasons. Still fun, still great, still essential, but if you start debating about it too much you have to use words like “cohesive” and then you sound like Cameron Crowe or something. There’s a great Hurley episode coming up, and I’m really looking forward to that. So yay wacky island mysteries.

 

JUST ONE OF THE GUYS

My old lady turned me onto this, and it’s a lost-classic as far as I’m concerned. Jocks vs. Freaks. A Writing Contest. Invisible 80’s Parents. The Horniest Little Brother Ever. Dickhead Preppies. Sweep The Leg, Johnny. And Sherilyn Fenn in high-school. And while it never seems to sharpen it’s edge, Just One of The Guys remains completely true to it’s era, a fact reinforced by one of the most inexplicable endings ever.

 

THE CRUSH

Speaking of era truthfulness, try to wrap your mind around the ninety minute grungerfuck that is The Crush. Got this on the “you’ll never know when you’ll need it” whim and my homie Lightbulb dropped it like an atom bomb. This movie should have a commentary track just for the pants. It was a totally great time.

And hey, check this out: The Crush, Fear, Disclosure, and The Hand That Rocks The Cradle. All movies about obsession slash sexual manipulation. All of them take place in the Northwest. Were these just two popular themes in the 90’s, or is it something more?

 

FLIGHT OF THE NAVIGATOR

Some guy said movies are truth at 24 frames per second. Same for Flight Of The Navigator. But instead of truth it’s “The Shit.” This movie’s The Shit times quadrillion infinity.

 

WALK HARD: THE DEWEY COX STORY

Totally rad dictionary-definition “spoof” movie. Fast-paced and I didn’t hate anybody. Which is interesting, cause I hate a lot.

 

PROM NIGHT

A severed head on a disco floor in Canada. If none of those things interests you, then you suck.

 

Books:

CROSSING CALIFORNIA by ADAM LANGER

(Horny stoned Jews in 1970’s Chicago)

Langer brings a journalist’s pace to multiple storylines with a bone-dry narration that betrays his character’s deepest insecurities. Highly recommended. (First thoughts after just twenty pages in: “Shit, I’m gonna have to buy this.” And “Shit, I hope this never get adapted.”)

 

THE INVENTION OF HUGO CABRET by BRIAN SELZNICK

(A orphan and a load of mysteries… In 1930’s France!)

If you know a kid between the ages of six and twelve, and they’re reasonably literate, hook them up with this joint cause they’ll enjoy the shit outta it. It’s not exactly a graphic novel and the text can run a little thin, but the concept and execution are entirely unique, even if it never quite hits the kids-books-for-grownups mark.

 

SLASH by SLASH

This book really makes you appreciate Slash.

 

 

 

Looking forward to:

 

“KING FRAT”

When I find out a movie has the line “Where are we gonna come up with the fifty bucks to enter the farting contest?!” I’m going to watch it. And drink beer. And wear a toga to work the next day.

 

“TEETH”

“The vagina that eats you!” Since the makers of “Teeth” didn’t go with my suggested tagline, I’m going to assume it’s pretty good. Maybe this will be the high-concept feminist horror film I’ll need to get “King Frat” outta my system?

 

THE EVIL DEAD TRILOGY

Groovy.

There's always that little hope that you'll die right when you're becoming important and later your things will be categorized by mutant Grad Students wearing kid-gloves in some sterile research facility hidden deep inside a huge mountain, where your almost-completed People Magazine crossword will be protected from the harsh surface world. Small field trips of cloned children will be lead through your museum by robot guides, programmed to pause reflectively in front of the force-field protecting the faithful reproduction of your living room. "We can only speculate," the TourDroid will rasp, pointing to your couch, "how often he sat here imagining his impact on a future he would not live to see."
Your young fans will be stoned on Space Drugs and they'll stare at your collection of plastic shot glasses and every day people will ask, "Dude, what did it all mean?"
When I die I'm going to leave behind a lot of shit. Literal shit. Nothing I'd expect my mourners to be able to sell. A couple hundred bargain-bin records. CDs I didn't buy. Stolen movies. Not much of the media I consume could be called "essential." None of the movies I truly love would be candidates for the National Film Registry. Besides "Back to the Future." And the NFR made the callous mistake of preserving only the first installment of the trilogy, damning the survivors of World War Three to a world without hoverboards.
I like bad movies. I was raised in that environment. Some of my happiest memories are watching terrible movies with my dad. Sometimes he'd make fun of them. Later on I got quick enough to join in. But sometimes we would just submit to the the bland ridiculousness of what happened to be on. Sometimes that's what it took to help us turn off our anxieties and relax. Those are the times we really talked.
I'm going to web-log thoughts on every movie I see this year because I don't believe that watching "quality" movies is a valid reflection of your intelligence. I think the enjoyment you're able to distill from a bad movie is the measure of your imagination. This isn't about art or cinema. This is going to be a blog about movies.