Live Tweeting "The Octagon"

Obviously, updates to this blog are few and far between.  I would like to think quality beats quantity, but that's no excuse.  So I offer an apology for that and, quite possibly, for what I'm about to present as well. 

As you know I'm not too upset about Netflixification; although its streaming content often presents viewers with the choice of picking the best among largely mediocre offerings, at least there are diamonds in the rough and no commercials. (Of particularly worthy note right now is a Russian film from 2008, Vanished Empire, an outstanding movie about reckless youth in '70s Soviet Moscow.)  And even with a lot of junk, there's still that "Bad but Awesome" tag I put on these blogs, and with Netflix adding a slew of Chuck Norris's early work, it demanded attention here at Cinematic Leisure.

Ladies and Gentlemen, The Octagon.

Rather than review this film, and present thoughts digested, I offer a helping of new media meets this less-new media.  Joined by friend artiste Anthony McConnell, and with the help of several gin and tonics, I live-tweeted my viewing experience.  Below are the results.  Since Twitter offers its micro-blog tweets in descending order, or newest-to-oldest tweets, I took the liberty of photoshopping these tweets into ascending order, or oldest-to-newest.  This way, you can follow the path of Chuck Norris--well, sort of--as he seeks revenge on the neenjah. 

And there you have it. Given this revisit, perhaps the traditional movie review still has merit after all. 

Movies I Should Loathe, but Instead Love: Red Dawn (1984)

Now that I live in Wyoming, undoubtedly closer to the fictional town of Calumet, Colorado (and Las Vegas, New Mexico, the town filmed as the setting) than I was in my metro Detroit-based youth, my ties to Red Dawn (1984) grow stronger. Alas, upon seeing the recent trailer for the remake of Red Dawn (2012)--which will finally be released this Thanksgiving following years of development and politically correct marketing quagmire--these ties heighten my disgust. It's also a shame to have to distinguish the glorious title with a year now. In short, I don't suspect RD2012 will be entering the hallowed halls of the "OTOH, Remakes" fortress. 

But since I have only had the chance to scoff at the RD2012 trailer, specifically the latter half where it's revealed the North Koreans have invaded America with a super-secret weapon that fits in a briefcase, I will instead divert this into a positive, even joyful review of RD1984. 

WOLVERINES!

That's right. 

It's 1984, and the Cold War goes hot. The Soviet Union is bent on world domination, and they've almost succeeded-- NATO's dissolved, etc., etc. With clever strategy they invade the United States, coming over the Bering Strait and through Alaska, in planes disguised as commercial transports, and even support this with tactical nuclear strikes against major U.S. cities.  It's also revealed that the Soviets invaded China, likely using nuclear weapons to take out over half of its population. 

But in the U.S. all is not Hitler goes to France circa 1940. This is, after all, America. 

Jed Eckert (Patrick Swayze), a sort-of recent high school graduate, rescues his brother Matt (Charlie Sheen, in his second appearance in this series of posts!) and his classmates Robert (C. Thomas Howell), Daryl (Darren Dalton), Danny (Brad Savage), and Aardvark (Doug Toby) from their high school as the Soviets descend onto the playground. They narrowly escape in the confusion, and head out of town to Mr. Morris's (Robert's father's) service station--easily the coolest, most diversely-stocked service station to ever grace the face of the earth.

After packing up everything they'll need to survive into Jed's Chevy pickup (which makes a sad disappearance far too soon afterward, likely due to its broken radiator), the boys head into the mountains to wait it out. By the time they receive information (their radio is also destroyed during their escape), they learn they're deep in occupied territory, and are joined by two other young escapees, Erica (Lea Thompson) and Toni (Jennifer Grey). 

After the small band of kids witnesses various atrocities by the Russian and Cuban (etc.) occupiers, they decide to fight back. Jed and Matt, in particular, are encouraged by their imprisoned father:



(What is it with Harry Dean Stanton making the best cameos? Take this, The Straight Story and even the recent Avengers flick... the guy is practically a PhD thesis. (Hm...))

And so it begins. They are no longer kids, they are...

WOLVERINES!

The acting varies widely. From Harry Dean Stanton to Powers Boothe (the only adult to join the Wolverines), the supporting cast is excellent. Swayze, still up-and-coming in the mid-'80s, is outstanding, as is his Outsiders co-star C. Thomas Howell. Sheen, Jennifer Grey and the rest of the Wolverines, however, are rather lackluster. Some would grow and go on to have distinguished careers, others would not. 

But it's the story the actors are playing that deserves the most criticism, and Red Dawn is objectively silly throughout. The Soviets take America by surprise, but can't handle a few kids?  Of course, the Soviets encountered some very real, and quite unsolvable, problems with guerrilla warfare in Afghanistan in the 1980s, but the Wolverines aren't exactly experienced (and CIA-trained and funded) Mujahideen.  Many of their attacks on the commies are downright comical, summoning First Blood (but not quite Rambo) ratios of force. Even Swayze ain't Stallone. 

But it's not all bad. One of the best aspects of Red Dawn is its isolation: we're never shown what's going on in major cities, or on the many other fronts of World War III. It's quite possible that the soldiers the Wolverines are up against are just as inexperienced, since the best forces are probably allocated elsewhere. And although it's hardly Band of Brothers in its strategic authenticity, the message of RD1984 is sound: when up against the Evil Empire, don't back down. This is a timeless message for any film, especially when juxtaposing real ideologies against one another, and this is all too absent in modern cinema. 

So, does message trump art sometimes? I wouldn't say that, but I would say it makes up where certain other qualities lack.

Oh, come on, seriously, in case of Soviet invasion, you don't want to go out this way? 

WOLVERINES!

Movies I Should Loathe, but Instead Love: Predator 2

It takes a lot to follow up The Wraith. 

(It's way old news by now, but I thought it quite prescient that I would cover Charlie Sheen's most awesomest (if not best) movie a whole two months before he went batpoop crazy.)

But, yes, there are others. Movies I should loathe, but love. I'm a man of refined cinematic tastes: Blade Runner, Rear Window, Ikiru... but then there are some. These films I cannot objectively defend to anyone. Yet, on the 17th viewing along with some special friends (read: cocktails), I enjoy them nearly as much as the Scotts, Hitchcocks and Kurosawas. Am I slumming it? Perhaps. Or maybe there's some redeeming qualities. We shall see.

Predator 2
(That's right-- Two.)"Don't hate."

Do we have to include another reference (this time specifically!) to the defunct (or at least re-formatted) WXYZ TV-20 in Detroit? Where else was I going to see Predator 2 as a wee eighth grader in all its edited-for-content glory? Does this mean every movie I should loathe, but love, has some Rosebud-like tie to my childhood? What's next, Red Dawn? Maybe so, friends, maybe so.

Predator 2 is not just bad, it's a pretty darn terrible follow-up to John McTiernan's classic action/sci-fi of the mid Ahnold Renaissance period (for those keeping record: this begins with Conan the Barbarian (1982) and ends with True Lies (1994)). I don't necessarily know what the filmmakers were thinking, but the marketing department definitely biffed when they decided to introduce the trailer with short clips (however brief) from the original:

Talk about setting yourself up for disaster. I mean, I realize director Stephen Hopkins was hot off his timeless cinematic jewel Nightmare on Elm Street: The Dream Child, but you think they might have just considered tempering the audience a bit.

Anyway, where to start? Well, perhaps with the bad, or the worst, part about Predator 2: it's based off of a comic book. No, there's nothing wrong with this at all, but for the fact that the comic book was better in every way. All that ended up making the transition was the Desert Eagle pistol and this manly pose:

Okay, that's not entirely accurate, but if it comes between seeing Predator 2 and reading the first run of Predator Dark Horse Comics (available in full-color trade paperback!), go with the latter.

Did I say I love this movie? Well, I do. Bear with me.

The plot, in brief: Predator, or, well, another Predator has come to Earth to hunt. This time, instead of the jungle, he's chosen the hot, sweltering Los Angeles metropolitan area, in the dark future of... 1997. Things aren't pretty in the future: drugs rule the west coast, and the cops just can't hold off the gangs and cartels. And what are they to make of this sudden crazy rather invisible killa who's suddenly offing these gangstas like it's going out of style?

Enter Danny Glover. That's right, hot off of two Lethal Weapon installments (playing the straight-shootin' cop who's "gettin' too old for this [poop]") and serious fare like the American Playhouse production of A Raisin in the Sun, Danny's agent thought it would be a good idea to try and be an action star. Well, you know what? B- for effort, and following up Arnold that's not too shabby. Danny, as the rebellious Lt. Mike Harrigan, doesn't take no for an answer, or any answer for that matter: he's now in the Mel Gibson role of Lethal Weapon, but instead of funny, he's 100% t.u.f.f.

And it's not just the Predator he's got to face down. Hey, speaking of Lethal Weapon, look who's also back!

"Infa. Red." Two words.

Mr. Gary Busey. As Peter Keyes, he leads a group of nefarious federal agents, and he's not only out to trap the Predator and get all his technological goods, but--far worse--is willing to tramp on Harrigan's turf to do it! As this is the oldest conflict known to all Hollywood fare featuring law enforcement, you know what's up: these dudes will not be getting along anytime soon.

The film's first half is investigative, with Harrigan basically figuring out all the same stuff that Arnold had to figure out in the first one:

1. Predator hunts people for sport.
2. Predator only hunts people who are armed.
3. Predator likes to find someone to stalk in a creepy fashion, kind of like a role model... wait, what?

Well, that last one does happen, and it's a bit weird, especially since it serves nothing in the plot save for establishing, again, the same juvenile honor code that came through in the first.

But enough of that! Once Harrigan and Keyes meet up at the mid-point, it's an hour-long game of cat-and-mouse with the Predator, that really does make the film.

Is it time for another tangent? I think so! What is it about even certain well-budgeted Hollywood films of the '80s and '90s that tried to get away with being set "in the future" by upping a few props? Unlike, say, Blade Runner (how many references can I fit into one post? Oh, many, friends), which admittedly bankrupted a few companies and municipalities (yes, I jest) to make a fully textured dark future, it seems like the audience is supposed to just focus in on the "futuristic" mis en scene while ignoring the fact that everyone is driving 1990 model Chevrolets:

Yup.

Anyway, the whole future aspect of the film really only ends up being there to include some nifty gadgets to figure out... well, no, foreshadow, that the Predator is not of this world. So, perhaps the lack of effort is forgivable.

But oh, that chase sequence! Building to building, hand-to-hand, mano a mano! Harrigan is angry, and he's out for justice, revenge, and everything in between!

Whew!

I feel like I've been too negative in this review, or perhaps too sarcastic. Indeed, there are other bright spots that I won't delve too much into: the movie also stars Bill Paxton and has a bit part for Adam Baldwin. The special effects are quite passable for the Predator himself and still hold up over time. The score is ported over from the first film, and that's solidly memorable. And... oh, come on, who can forget King Willie?

"I don't know who he is, but I know where he is: dee udder side."

Say what you want about Predator, it's King Willie who's going to scare the kids. Doing his creepy voodoo bone-rolling. I, for one, as an impressionable 13-year-old, was quite pleased to see Predator show up and off this drug-pushing dude, believe you me.

So, there it is, Predator 2. I love it. For no good reason at all.

In closing, for anyone who thinks I should be watching bona fide Christmas fare like, say, Die Hard, go ahead and re-watch that trailer above. When did Predator 2 come out? I rest my case.

Movies I Should Loathe, but Instead Love: The Wraith

The Academy gave Matt Damon and Ben Affleck an award for the screenplay of Good Will Hunting. Each year somewhere around 1 million American college freshmen males adorn their dorm room walls with at least one Scarface poster. Fight Club is considered philosophical in some circles. In short, nobody's perfect. With this in mind, I present a series of objectively terrible films that I will gladly watch just about any time, anywhere. As with that "OTOH, Remakes" series I began in July 2009 and have not revisited since, this series may be short-lived. Consider it a New Year's resolution to make this one more fruitful, and consider that resolution as reliable as any New Year's resolution.

Installment 1: The Wraith

Just one month before Charlie Sheen launched his A-List leading-man career in Platoon (and a year before sealing the deal with Wall Street), he was greatly angering one already stern-looking Nick Cassavetes, wooing a perfect 10 Sherilyn Fenn*, giving Clint Howard a chance to show off that pre-total-bald-dome white-dude 'fro, and otherwise letting Randy Quaid enjoy a well-deserved break between his busy National Lampoon's _____ Vacation schedule.

"A Wraith, man! A Ghost! An evil spirit and it ain't cool."

In the mid-1980s southwest U.S., a band of hooligans runs the highways. Led by Packard Walsh (Cassavetes), they prey upon unsuspecting teens in sports cars (that is, what passed for sports cars in the 1980s) and force them to race. "If you lose the race, you lose your car!" The legal technicalities of gaming law and contract law aside, this allows for the hooligans to keep the losing car fair and square. And before you write this off as "boys will be boys," please note: the hooligans cheat when they race.

Packard isn't just a sociopath on the road, he's also got problems communicating. When Keri Johnson (Fenn) rejected his advances in favor of her boyfriend Jamie (Sheen, but played by Christopher Bradley in flashbacks), Packard killed Jamie with the help of his gang. Keri has nearly recovered from the horrific episode, but just as Packard seems to be settling in as king of the Arizona backdesert, a mysterious Jake (Sheen) arrives in town, quickly putting the moves on Keri and wooing her in ways Packard cannot muster due to his salty disposition.

About the same time as Jake's arrival, a mysterious , futuristic car appears to challenge the hooligans. One by one, this car-- this wraith-- exacts certain death on the gang members involved in Jamie's death. Sheriff Loomis (Quaid), mysteriously absent any time Packard is stealing cars via street racing or until after the Wraith has claimed a victim, pieces together the solution to the riddle at a distance. He is the one bulwark of wisdom among the premium-fueled, deadly adolescence.

The Wraith, in addition to my previous jabs in the plot summary, is largely an amalgamation of a soundtrack featuring Billy Idol and other '80s hair, physics that allows four-banger Dodge Daytonas to keep up with supposedly supercharged Corvettes, and a rather meandering plot connecting frivolous action sequences between scenes of country bumpkins like Sheriff Loomis standing around just letting the Wraith do his business with looks of deep contemplation. There's also some serious drug abuse (of the "huffing" variety, if I recall my D.A.R.E. education correctly) by two of the holligans, aptly named "Skank" and "Gutterboy."

So, this begs the question, why do I love this movie?

Did I already say "Sherilyn Fenn?"

Keri (Fenn) confides to Jake (Sheen) that
she enjoys Dostoevsky and political discussion.

One element is certainly nostalgia. When I was growing up in the early 1990s, Wraith was often shown as a Saturday afternoon movie on TV, but I always caught it at the half way point. Even upon reaching college, The Wraith did not get a DVD release until well into the 2000s. Even then, it was bundled together with The Gate, some Trick-or-Treat movie with Ozzy Osborne and at least one other movie I certainly wasn't going to watch. (For the record: a Special Edition of the Wraith was finally released on DVD in March 2010.) Does my quest to see The Wraith in its entirety suggest that the film represents not so much a destination, but a long fond journey? Well, maybe so. Maybe so.

In actuality: this movie is fun. The Wraith was not the first or last cobbled-together story with young actors of varying talent that was considered by producers a success if it just brought in a few hundred thousand profit (which it did, holla), but it has some gems. Rip on Billy Idol all you want, but the music works to the pent-up teen angst and especially for car races. The special effects are actually quite stellar for a $2.7 million movie-- and still look pretty good today. The Wraith car itself is pretty stinkin' cool, and the writers do not attempt to explain Jamie / Jake's resurrection-- he's just there. Just the right aura of mystery, unconcerned with confusing the audience that might want to know everything.

I love The Wraith. There, I said it.

*"Marry me, Sherilyn Fenn circa 1986" almost equals "Marry me, Grace Kelly circa 1954."