Category / Movies

by sweensryche

See It/Flee It: Crimes Against Humanity

See It: The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency

Everything about this seven-episode BBC series has been done to death – the friendly sleuth with a god-given talent for nabbing bad guys, a buttoned-up sidekick, burgeoning love interest and turbulent past. Except for the setting, that is. Like the Alexander McCall Smith novels it’s based on, The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency is set in Botswana, a country in Southern Africa. And the fact that it was also shot there gives the show its soul – for all of its lighthearted touches and lovable characters, it’s the stunningly beautiful backdrops and unique cultural/geographical elements that stick with you. In the middle of figuring out a mystery, main character Mma Ramotswe – played with down-to-earth vibrancy by Jill Scott – stops to watch a pair of giraffes roaming a few feet from her car. The culprit of a long-running mystery turns out to be a roving band of baboons. When Ramotswe trails the daughter of a wealthy client, she’s led through a bustling open-air market of kaleidoscopic colors. Not to say there’s nothing else to offer than the window dressing here. The mysteries are cleverly constructed, especially a classic poison-related whodunit, and it’s impossible not to root for Ramotswe – to get her business off the ground, solve every case that comes her way, and stand strong when a dark period of her past rears its ugly head. But as much as you’ll love this lady detective, her native country is the real star.

Flee It: The Lovely Bones

After spending a decade in the ether of massive CGI blockbuster-dom, director Peter Jackson and his loyal co-screenwriters, Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens, must have thought it was time to scale things back a bit – hence their adaptation of The Lovely Bones, the Alice Sebold novel that got to the guts of the grieving process in such an engaging way. Unfortunately, the hopelessly trite, saccharine mess they made of Sebold’s work proves they should stick to the fantastical. Jackson’s film doesn’t get beyond a back-of-the-DVD-case synopsis of the story – 14-year-old Susie Salmon is brutally murdered by a neighbor, after which her spirit goes to “the in-between,” a place between earth and heaven that allows her to watch over the people she loves, as well as her murderer. Most of the novel is concerned with how Susie’s family and friends deal with their intense grief, each in their own way. Jackson chooses to either eliminate or gloss over 90% of this insightful human struggle, making it awfully hard to sympathize with these characters – which shouldn’t be a tall order for a story with this kind of dramatic heft. Part of the problem is Mark Wahlberg, whose sad, dopey take on Susie’s father is completely unwatchable. Everybody else is a composite – Jackson apparently deemed the mother’s character unworthy of attention; Susie’s egghead love interest Ray Singh becomes pointless eye candy; Ruth Connors, the artsy outcast obsessed with the spirits of murdered girls, is barely present. And for what? A pile of god-awful, candy-coated CGI sequences of Susie frolicking in “the in-between.” And one unforgivably flaky moment, nowhere to be found in the novel, that depicts Susie’s spirit making a dead flower blossom in her father’s hands. Scenes like these make Jackson’s intentions clear – his Lovely Bones is so enamored with the supernatural, it doesn’t bother to remind us how it feels to be alive.

by sweensryche

Go Greenwood!

Last night, I did what I do most Sunday evenings – eagerly watch The Simpsons, and then sit though an hour-and-a-half’s worth of pointless pop culture references and “shocking” jokes, courtesy of Seth MacFarlane. My appetite for cartoons is that strong, I guess. But that’s beside the point. In the midst of MacFarlane’s uninspired programming block, a commercial aired for the upcoming Paul Rudd/Steve Carell vehicle, Dinner For Schmucks. After a few seconds, it seemed like this was going to be the next stupid slapstick blockbuster du jour, with Carell taking the pratfalls instead of Ben Stiller.

That is, until BRUCE FRICKIN’ GREENWOOD appeared on screen. That’s right, that Bruce Greenwood, the star of the criminally overlooked Hallmark Hall of Fame masterwork, A Dog Named Christmas (that’s him above, circa 1998. I can’t tell which one’s the stallion!). Apparently my man G-Wood plays Paul Rudd’s pompous boss, a role that couldn’t possibly have the depth of ADNC’s George McCray, a father who doesn’t want his son to rent a dog for Christmas because it reminds him of the dog he had in Vietnam, which was killed by a land mine. But once the dog saves everybody from a mountain lion, including a dachshund and her puppies, George has a change of heart, even though his son gives him the rather short-sighted name “Christmas.”

So if you’re a Greenwood buff, Dinner For Schmucks is reason to rejoice. At least until A Ferret Named Thanksgiving gets green-lighted.

Greenwood fans, please post your fav nicknames for our hero here. I got the ball rolling with G-Wood, and I’ll throw a couple more out there: Brucey Juice and Wooder.

by sweensryche

See It/Flee It: Adaptation Madness

In my latest movie-going ventures, I’ve learned that when adapting a story for the screen, you can have the most state-of-the-art technology and stunning visual sensibilities on your side, and still make a stinker that will bore the most Ritalin-addled child. At the end of the day, a compelling story, simply told, has more flash and dazzle than any CGI effect. Now’s the part where I tell you what to do.

See It: A Single Man

In director Tom Ford’s adaptation of the Christopher Isherwood novel A Single Man, there’s plenty of opportunities for swelling melodrama and soapbox shouting. The movie details a day in the life of George Falconer (played with subtle precision by Colin Firth), a British professor at a Los Angeles university in the early-’60s whose world is shattered when his lover dies. His loneliness consumes him, invades his dreams and fogs his mind while giving a lecture about an Aldous Huxley novel. And because his lost love was another man, Falconer has nobody to turn to for solace – even his best friend Charlotte from across the pond (Julianne Moore at her booziest) passes George’s love off as a flight of fancy, arguing that they should have been together instead. Thankfully, Ford has little time for tear-soaked temper tantrums, depicting Falconer’s emotional breakdown as a subterranean entity that drives its host to the brink, and using the character’s suicide attempts as fodder for black humor. By the end, although a light at the end of the tunnel flickers brightly, it’s not enough to save a man who spent his life loving, and mourning, in the shadows.

Flee It: Alice In Wonderland

By the end of Tim Burton’s latest take on a beloved tale, the main character has learned valuable lessons about the kind of life she wants to lead. If only the movie itself could have had such definitive ideas. On paper, of course, Alice In Wonderland seemed a perfect marriage of director and subject matter – a master of modern fairytales reimagining one of the most fantastical stories in all of children’s literature. But perhaps because the match was so perfect, and such a surefire moneymaker, Burton didn’t bother to take the story apart and rebuild it with the loving, critical eye of a fanboy, like he did in Batman, where we were introduced to characters we knew and loved as if we’d never met them before. Here, it’s assumed that you know who The Mad Hatter is, so there’s no point in explaining why he’s mad, beyond showing that he used to have a gig with the White Queen, and now he doesn’t. Johnny Depp is equally disinterested in adding anything to the character, beyond a lazy giggle and a dance sequence that’s the most embarrassing moment of Burton’s career. (Helena Bonham Carter’s spirited, hilarious take on the Red Queen makes Depp’s stumblings all the more glaring.) And the story itself is a hodge-podge of British fantasy cliches – a child finds a magical world, becomes its most famous resident, joins the battle between good and evil, slays a dragon and goes home forever changed. It’s an insult to the deranged brilliance of Lewis Carroll, and makes the 1951 Disney version seem artfully told by comparison. The biggest change of Burton’s adaptation is the addition of C.S. Lewis’ most famous idea to the plot’s gloppy stew – Alice is now a 19-year-old girl who’s been visiting Wonderland since she was six, although it takes her a while to remember that. As she makes her way through this beautifully visualized place, Alice feels like the characters she meets are somewhat familiar, but she can’t quite place them in her mind. Maybe that’s because behind all the fabulous makeup, spot-on costumes and stunning CGI, there are only echoes of real creativity.

by sweensryche

See it/Flee it

In a fit of cliche-ridden inspiration, I came up with this idiotically named feature! In it, I recommend a movie to check out, and one to avoid at all costs, brashly assuming that you care about what I think. The best part about it? It rhymes! Lord Jesus, it rhymes!

See It: The Cove

There’s been a significant amount of buzz surrounding this eco-spy documentary, and rightly so. Director Louie Psihoyos and his team of special ops vets, deep divers, Industrial Light & Magic employees and concerned activists attempt to get irrefutable footage of the slaughter of dolphins that occurs in a heavily guarded cove near Taijii, Japan. This mission ends up having more heart-stopping moments than your average Hollywood shoot-em-up, as the team slowly infiltrates the area, planting cameras disguised as rocks, underwater audio recorders and other such high-tech gadgetry. Just as enthralling is the story of Ric O’Barry, whose experiences as the former dolphin trainer on the TV show Flipper led him to become one of the most prominent “save the dolphins” activists in the world. The last half-hour of The Cove is horrifying to watch, whether you’re interested in animal rights or not. You can normally count me as the latter, but as the credits rolled, the pull to help put an end to this atrocity was very real.

Flee it: The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus

If it wasn’t obvious already, this seals it – Terry Gilliam has gone off the deep end. The copiously talented director loves to position himself as an industry-bucking maverick, an artist perpetually in the crosshairs of the filmmaking establishment. But after watching his 10th film, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, it’s clear that the man needs to bring Gilliam down. Or at least forbid him to have any part in screenwriting (this was co-written by Gilliam and Charles McKeown). The movie starts off interestingly enough, introducing the main character, the immortal, shaman-like Dr. Parnassus, who due to modern belief systems is relegated to a traveling sideshow on the streets of London. He can’t help but place bets with the devil (deliciously played by Tom Waits), even when they involve his daughter. When his troupe discovers Tony (Heath Ledger in his final role) hanging from beneath a bridge, and he spits out a golden pipe when revived, the groundwork has been laid for one of Gilliam’s gorgeous, twisted fairytales. But from this point on, Parnassus is an unintelligible mess. The director abandons pretty much every semblance of the story, putting all his energies into the fantastical, Lewis Carroll-ish worlds that curious Parnassus audience members get to experience. And as wonderful as these dreamworlds look, there’s no plot to make them relevant, turning The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus into an unimaginative, half-baked nightmare.

by sweensryche

The Top 25 Flicks of the 2000s

I know, I know. The deadline has passed for Best of the 2000s listmania. But I just enjoy making lists so much, you could call me Franz Liszt, or Listy Brinkley, or Listerine, or The Listine Chapel. Hence, here’s my dry, uninformed take on the Top 25 Movies of the Decade. Picking #1 was easy, much easier than it will be ten years from now, when I’ll be deciding what was better, “Valentine’s Day” or “The Tooth Fairy.” Until then, I guess you’ll be feeling somewhat listless.

25. Persepolis (2007)
A beautiful, moving adaptation of the graphic novel of the same name, this feat of black and white animated storytelling is a coming-of-age tale, war movie and Iranian history primer rolled into one. This is more than just an interesting memoir; it’s a treatise on what truly defines a nation – not the people who make rules, but the people who make families.

24. Little Otik (2001)
Sometimes, people are more obsessed with the idea of having a child than the child itself. This imaginatively twisted tale from Czech director Jan Svankmajer details the depths that some couples will go, just to say they’ve got a bouncing baby something (in this case, a bloodthirsty, anthropomorphic tree stump). A horrifying, darkly whimsical, one-of-a-kind experience.

23. Coraline (2009)
My favorite movie of the past year was this stop-motion-animated gift from screenwriter/director Henry Selick (The Nightmare Before Christmas). This eccentric, wondrously visualized story about a little girl’s discovery of her seemingly perfect “other parents” takes tired, no-duh morals like “don’t judge a book by its cover” and “be thankful for what you have” and reminds you why they became cliches in the first place.

22. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
This movie begins with an all-too-familiar criticism of Valentine’s Day, with its hero, Joel Barish, lamenting, “Today is a holiday invented by greeting card companies to make people feel like crap.” This might lead one to expect a self-absorbed soap opera a la Reality Bites to ensue, but instead, writer Charlie Kaufman and director Michel Gondry smack us upside our rom-com-addled heads with the decade’s most breathtakingly creative interpretation of love conquering all. Part science fiction, part loopy comedy, and 100% positive on the existence of soul mates, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is as convincing and entertaining a pro-Valentine’s Day argument as we’re bound to come across.

21. Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story (2007)
This decade had more than its share of trite, lazy biopics, from the cliche-ridden Ray to the unabashedly rose-colored Walk the Line. And if it wasn’t for Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, we’d have to make fun of them on our own. This largely overlooked satire of “behind the music” movies (and rock stars in general) featured the funniest actor of the decade, John C. Reilly, and a script that mercilessly mocks the way that your average biopic insults its audience – from actors in their 40s playing teens to telegraphed childhood tragedies, the requisite “dark periods” and hyperbolic displays of the power of the music. The original tunes are spot on as well, resulting in the most satisfying rock and roll comedy since Spinal Tap.

20. Secretary (2002)
No movie in the 2000s ignored the rules of romantic comedy as effectively as Secretary, a story of two lonely, misunderstood people who fall in love, wholeheartedly and realistically. There’s romance here, and comedy, but Sandra Bullock wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole, and not just because of the characters’ non-traditional sexual proclivities. The way they test each other, understand each other’s problems and learn how to leverage their love to overcome them – this is the stuff of human relationships, the kind of bond that makes happily ever after a real possibility.

19. The Dark Knight (2008)
It’s a tired observation, but Heath Ledger’s performance in The Dark Knight is a revelation. The actor’s turn as The Joker was a glimpse into the eyes of pure nihilism – a fearless, captivating sociopath obsessed with outing the inherent selfishness and cowardice of his fellow man. Christopher Nolan’s movie doesn’t prove its villain right, going out of its way to show the heroic instincts of regular folks, but it blurs the line between good and evil with an honest, unflinching eye, making it the quintessential superhero epic of the decade.

18. Palindromes (2004)
Nobody captures the awkwardness of adolescent life quite like Todd Solondz, and in Palindromes, the director contrasts the resiliency of youth with the ignorance of adults in painfully funny, thought-provoking ways. With a battalion of heartbreakingly good child actors at his disposal, Solondz tells the story of Aviva, a girl dead set on finding herself, no matter how many self-centered parents and religious whack jobs get in her way.

17. Team America: World Police (2004)
Back in ’04, whether you were up in arms over the United States’ recent efforts to cast itself as a big, dumb superpower, or just in the mood for a great extended puke scene, Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s puppet action movie was just what the doctor ordered. From songs that pair Top Gun cheese with W. administration arrogance to brilliant send-ups of action movie cliches and vigorous rounds of celebrity lambasting, Team America makes you view its inherent social commentary through tears of riotous laughter.

16. Three … Extremes (2004)
What Hollywood did to Japanese horror movies in the 2000s is way more horrific than the remakes themselves. If you had to sit through The Ring 2, this trio of Asian short films will remind you that movies can be awfully scary. After taking in “Dumplings,” an instant classic of a horror story in which an aging actress will consume anything to hold onto her youth, chances are you’ll forget about that grudge you were holding onto, as well as The Grudge.

15. Wall-E (2008)
A largely dialogue-less, computer-animated adventure about robot love, Wall-E proved once and for all that family movies don’t need wisecracking animals vomiting out early-’90s catchphrases to be successful (e.g. “Shake what yo mama gave ya!” – Alvin from Alvin and The Chipmunks: The Squeakquel). A timeless romance between a pair of machines that have more heart between them than the whole obese, drone-like human race, Wall-E challenges the mind and stirs the spirit.

14. Napoleon Dynamite (2004)
That rare case of a cultural phenomenon stuffed with one liners that don’t get old, Napoleon Dynamite is a humble geek love story that withstood the most unexpected merchandising blitz of the decade (e.g. Liger stickers were on sale at my gas station). Which only adds to its charm, of course. A hopeful story that celebrates teenage nerd-dom for all of its ugliness, discomfort and facades of superiority, rooting for Napoleon Dynamite feels so good that by the end, you’re ready to start all over again.

13. The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)
Have the movies ever given us a family more impossibly eccentric than the Tenenbaums? They’re a mess of obsessive-compulsiveness, shattered dreams, blasé attitudes and chronic self-obsessions. And thanks to director Wes Anderson’s inimitable quirks, these cartoonishly dysfunctional characters are also thoroughly lovable. But while Anderson’s style makes The Royal Tenenbaums special (e.g. the closet full of board games, the matching track suits, Royal’s stab-happy best buddy), its themes of love and redemption make it timeless.

12. The Station Agent (2003)
When you’re in need of a friend, the last thing you want to hear is that you just have to “let it happen.” The Station Agent is about the merit of that advice, following the lives of three characters, all outcasts in their different ways, as they slowly and organically become friends. A sweet, quiet ode to the power of human companionship, Thomas McCarthy’s movie is an affirmation for anybody out there who’s ever felt alone (which is all of us, I presume).

11. Signs (2002)
Signs is a movie about loss, belief, family bonds and murderous aliens. As a thriller, it does all the right things, taunting the senses instead of assaulting them, using a rustling cornfield or the whimpering of a dog to strike fear in our hearts. As a drama, it tugs at our heartstrings without insulting them, detailing the dissolution and reconstruction of a family, in parallel to the spiritual doubt and reaffirmation of its minister father, played with surprising force by Mel Gibson. M. Night Shyamalan may not be capable of movies like this anymore, but the tender comedy, sharply honed horror and stark spirituality of Signs is evidence of a master at work.

10. Step Brothers (2008)
Of writer/director Adam McKay’s trilogy of attempts at groundbreaking absurdity, this is the purest – take a loose concept (40-year-old guys still living with their parents who become stepbrothers), give it to Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly, and film what happens. The result is an anarchic comedy masterpiece, in which the leading men lead each other down increasingly juvenile, wildly funny paths, and supporting players Richard Jenkins, Adam Scott and Kathryn Hahn turn in hilarious performances as they play along.

9. Gosford Park (2001)
Gosford Park is a sumptuous treat in every way. From the detailed country house interiors to the beautifully interwoven story and tremendous ensemble of actors, Robert Altman’s last great achievement is an even larger embarrassment of riches than the combined bank accounts of its characters. A completely engrossing whodunit and exploration of classist attitudes in 1930s England, this is a period piece that looks old, but will never feel that way.

8. Borat (2006)
Most of the social experiment-as-entertainment projects of the 2000s were forgettable, from the trash barge of reality TV shows that began with Survivor to gimmicky documentaries like Super Size Me. But there was nothing formulaic or remotely trite about Borat, a hilarious and harrowing practical joke of a movie that shines a harsh light on our country’s collective ethnocentrism, mining it for several of the most explosively funny moments of the decade.

7. Capturing the Friedmans (2003)
A common complaint against a poorly told story is that there are no grey areas – the good guys are Christ-like, the bad guys are repugnant. Few movies have explored the grey areas of real human existence like Capturing the Friedmans, a documentary about a family destroyed by the horrible compulsions of its father, the questionable tactics of the people who investigated his crimes, and the son who may or may not have deserved to get swept up in it all. Splicing modern day interviews with home movies that the family filmed as it was disintegrating, Friedmans leaves you disturbed, shaken and completely unsure whose side you were on.

6. Bad Santa (2003)
Christmas is supposed to be about selflessness, doing whatever it takes to make your loved ones happy. Which makes Bad Santa the perfect Christmas movie. Sure, this masterful piece of black comedy includes alcohol abuse, filthy language, armed robbery and child beating, but it also relays a strong message about the importance of family – when you care about somebody enough to bleed for their Christmas present, that’s the reason for the season.

5. There Will Be Blood (2007)
In theory, the American dream is an idyllic, magnetizing thing, a world of big, clean houses, white picket fences and laughing children. In practice, it’s dark and destructive, but just as magnetic. This concept is at the heart of Paul Thomas Anderson’s mesmerizing There Will Be Blood, an imperialist allegory that positions cutthroat businessmen and fiery men of religion as two sides of the same twisted coin. Daniel Day-Lewis’ monumental performance as the heartless, fascinating oil man Daniel Plainview is one for the ages, as is Anderson’s crackling script and Jonny Greenwood’s sparse, disturbing score.

4. The Devil’s Backbone (2001)
Children banding together to fight a frightening common enemy – in terms of horror stories, it’s about as original as a monster under the bed. But in Guillermo del Toro’s enthralling, Spanish Civil War-era tale The Devil’s Backbone, the enemies are human, the group of children includes the spirit of a murdered orphan, and the overarching emotion is one of tenderness, not fear. An effective exploration of youth during wartime and man’s capacity for evil, this is a ghost story with soul.

3. Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Brokeback Mountain was the great romance of the past decade, featuring two characters who fall in love against all odds, and not in a Serendipity kind of way. Under Ang Lee’s masterful eye, the story of Ennis and Jack’s pure, intense, ill-fated love is told with the quiet simplicity of a Wyoming landscape. There are no speeches in the rain or last-second rushes to the airport here, just two soul mates whose feelings for each other are demonized by society. And when the time does come for high drama, Lee gets it from two shirts, a faded photograph and three muttered words – “Jack, I swear.”

2. Spirited Away (2001)
For all of the highly conceptualized, visually stunning animation that the 2000s had in store, none of it came close to Spirited Away, the heart song of the legendary Hayao Miyazaki and one of the most imaginative fairy tales this side of Through the Looking Glass. When the main character, Chihiro, and her parents stumble across an enchanted, abandoned theme park en route to their new hometown, the ensuing adventure bubbles over with charming encounters, unexpected friendships, bizarre terrors and universal lessons about greed, loyalty and growing up. An extravaganza for the eyes, and a joyride for the mind.

1. The Lord of the Rings (2001-03)
Three epic-length movies with gargantuan budgets, heavily reliant on unproven CGI technology, tackling the “unfilmable” Holy Grail of fantasy stories, directed and co-written by a guy known mostly for campy horror flicks. This doesn’t sound like the recipe for the crowning achievement of the decade, but Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy is just that – a mindblowing distillation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s intricately interwoven and minutely detailed story, delivered with the kind of fanboy loyalty and filmmaking magic that turns the grumpiest naysayers into born again devotees. (Yeah, I know they’re three movies, but I didn’t want them to suck up three spots on the list; plus, I’m still not sure what my favorite installment is.) For all of their technical achievements, which made us believe it was Middle Earth we were looking at, it’s the adapted screenplays that made these movies sing. Without skimping on the battles, creatures and other eye candy, Jackson, Philippa Boyens and Fran Walsh made a point to develop these characters in concert with the books, not shying away from depictions of love between Frodo and Sam, capturing Gandalf’s aloofness along with his power, treating Gollum’s tragic, schizophrenic struggles with a sympathetic flair. These 10 hours of film show us how strength and salvation can come from the most unexpected places – like the quiet gardens of The Shire, or the ambitious minds of New Zealanders.

by sweensryche

I’d french Richard Burton

virginiawoolf_031420081116My wife and I watched Mike Nichols’ film version of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? again recently. What a well-written and executed sum’ bitch. I know this makes me sound like a smelly curmudgeon, but it got me wondering why we don’t get movies like this anymore. Sure, we get movies based on plays, but they don’t seem to be put together in a way that lets the original work breathe. After seeing the film version of Doubt, with its painstaking attention to visual details and script that insults our intelligence (well, the last scene does, at least), it’s hard to see how the thing could make an arresting piece of theater.

Woolf? relies on long, serpentine bouts of dialogue, set in a handful of uninteresting places – Martha and George’s living room, a tree swing in their yard, a local watering hole. With a goldmine of eloquent, boozy one-liners at their disposal, Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton throw themselves into their roles so convincingly, the viewer gets a contact buzz. Burton gets all the best zingers, and his depiction of sad sack George alone makes him one of my favorite actors. When he calls his hypothetical son “the apple of our three eyes, Martha being a cyclops,” the mix of wit and bitterness in his delivery is irresistible.

Great actors delivering great lines. I can’t think of a contemporary movie I’ve seen lately that was that, and nothing more.

by sweensryche

El Superbeasto, No Me Gusta

el-superbeasto-trailer-icecream

I recently reviewed Rob Zombie’s new sorta-straight-to-DVD animated feature (it was screened in a few theaters on Saturday night here in WNY). Just imagine me sitting in the McKinley Mall multiplex on a Tuesday morning, ingesting this steaming pile of shock-jock-worthy humor and wondering when Mr. Zombie will get back to singing about Astro Creeps and such.

The Haunted World of El Superbeasto: Rob Zombie at his lowest
September 11, 2009, edition of The Buffalo News

Rob Zombie opens his new animated feature with a Vincent Price-ish emcee, who warns the audience that the story to come “may horrify you.” He’s not joking.

“The Haunted World of El Superbeasto” is as lazy as lowbrow comedy gets. There’s an art to a perfectly timed gaseous emission or domino-effect vomit sequence — the hilarity comes as much from the context as the inherent disgustingness. This is a lesson that Zombie, a campy-in-a-good-way metal singer turned campy-in-a-bad-way director, hasn’t learned. “Superbeasto” is chock full of in-your-face gore, nudity and scatology, which is supposed to be funny just because it’s there.

Zombie, who co-wrote and directed, drapes a merciless barrage of mind-numbing sex jokes and other “shocking” content over a paper-thin plot. El Superbeasto is a past-his-prime professional wrestler and apparent sex addict who becomes smitten by a stripper named Velvet Von Black. Von Black is kidnapped by the supervillain Dr. Satan (voiced with frazzled vibrancy by Paul Giamatti), and Superbeasto sets out to save her, accompanied by his sister Suzi-X.

But none of that really matters. Raunchy one-liners and sight gags are the name of the game here, not character development — which would be OK if everything wasn’t so tedious and telegraphed. Here’s a sample:

El Superbeasto enters a strip club. A waitress greets him.

Waitress: “Glad to see you back!”

Waitress turns around and El Superbeasto ogles her rear end.

El Superbeasto: “Glad to see your back!”

Zombie’s attempts to be provocative are just as embarrassing as his jokes. He weaves in an army of zombie Nazis, the murder of Santa Claus, the demise of a box of kittens and endless displays of chauvinism, including a sequence where Superbeasto can’t decide whether he wants to save Von Black or give up and eat a plate of hot wings. The script isn’t interested in anything but making you say things like “aw, no he didn’t!” and “he so went there!” And in our post-“South Park” culture, animated characters have been there and done that, in far smarter and funnier ways.

Unlike this movie’s obvious inspirations, the 1972 cult classic “Fritz the Cat” and the Tom and Jerry-on-acid TV show “Ren & Stimpy,” “Superbeasto” doesn’t try to make any meaningful connections with its audience. “Fritz” was a failed attempt at hippie satire, but at least it tried, and “Ren & Stimpy” had indelible characters, brilliantly twisted writers and unforgettable animation. Speaking of which, the animation style Zombie opts for here is on the level of popular Nickelodeon shows like “The Fairly OddParents,” so the movie looks as uninspired as it sounds.

The movie will be screened one night only in Western New York — at 10 p. m. Saturday in the Dipson McKinley Mall Cinema and at 9 p. m. and midnight in the Riviera Theatre, 67 Webster St., North Tonawanda. It will be released on DVD (Anchor Bay Entertainment) on Sept. 22. Any number of people could be offended by it, including every woman on the planet, but “The Haunted World of El Superbeasto” is more offensive to fans of animated comedy than anything else.