Cop Rock S1E4: A Three-Corpse Meal

Starring:
Anne Bobby as Off. Vicki Quinn
Barbara Bosson as Mayor Louise Plank
Vondie Curtis-Hall as Det. Warren Osborne
Ronny Cox as Chief Roger Kendrick
David Gianopoulos as Off. Andy Campo
Paul McCrane as Det. Bob McIntire
Larry Joshua as Capt. John Hollander
James McDaniel as Off. Franklin Rose
Ron McLarty as Ralph Ruskin
Mick Murray as Det. Joseph Gaines
Peter Onorati as Det. Vincent LaRusso

Written by: William M. Finkelstein and Toni Graphia and John Romano

Directed by: Fred Gerber

Well it has been two weeks since I forced myself to finish the last episode, and as much as I want to throw in the towel and call it quits on this ill-conceived series, I feel like I’ve come too far to fail.  Actually, I don’t feel that way at all; I’m just going to continue trudging through it for literally no other reason than unbridled stupidity.

I also decided to actually take notes for this episode, which will help me to remember all the reasons this episode sucks, both the obvious ones, and the more subtle ones.  I will be fair from the outset and state that, as bad as this episode is, I didn’t hate it.  Sure, it has some pretty terrible moments, and the songs continue to be the most forgettable (and simultaneously unforgettable) part of the show, but “Three-Corpse Meal” at least has one of the series’ first legitimately humorous parts, and that certainly has to count for something.

It also has a lot of continuing plotlines, so strap yourselves in: First things first, LaRusso, the cop who murdered a known cop-killer that was re-released to the streets without so much as a slap on the wrist, was convicted of his murder.  The judge sets the bail to $500,000 against the wishes of his defense attorney, and as LaRusso is being lead to his jail cell, he starts into a song about how he doesn’t fear anyone behind bars.  I actually didn’t hate this song--a statement which, as far as this show goes, is becoming the new “like”--but the refrain of “you can’t keep a good man down” seems hilariously misguided.  Is this merely how he sees himself, or are we supposed to be seeing him in that light, too?  Yes, the fact he was convicted of this crime would never have happened, both in real life, and in every other cop show ever made, so just the fact he finds himself in this situation is pretty dumb.  But the way he treats the people in his life (especially women), and the shady, reckless way in which he acts is pretty despicable, so I’ve actually been hating him from the outset.  Oops.  Anyway, to further this story so I don’t have to keep backtracking, his bail is considered unconstitutional, and is lowered to $10,000.  His defense attorney’s partner, an attractive female, agrees to pay three-quarters of it, if he covers the rest using $2,500 he has stashed away.  Of course, she has ulterior motives, which are obvious from the outset, and when he goes to thank her, they end up banging.

SONG: YOU CAN'T KEEP A GOOD MAN DOWN

Our good friend Patti, the young drug-addicted mother who sold her baby for a measly $200 in the first episode, makes her long-awaited return!  She asks Officer Vicki for help in getting her life, and then eventually, her baby back.  I didn’t know that sellers on the black market kept such strict files on all of the babies they buy and sell that it would be possible to trace where her baby ended up, but I must be wrong.  Must be so they can file taxes at the end of the year.

But just when “Cop Rock” heads toward a plot that might not actually be all that bad, we’re thrown a curveball: After Vicki agrees to help Patti, they have a sit-down meeting where Patti announces to all in attendance, including the Captain, that she sold her baby and wants to get her life back on track.  Well, at the end of this seemingly amicable discussion, the Captain decides to have her booked for her part in getting rid of her child for monetary gain.  When Vicki voices her displeasure, the Captain tells her she’s acting out of line, and refuses to listen to her.  What a heartless piece of trash this guy is turning out to be!  There’s also a song in here, but the less said about it, the better.

Vicki’s semi-fat, real old husband, the forensic expert named Ralph, also gets some screen-time.  After hanging up the phone and looking sad (to which another officer strolls in, and completely without tongue-in-cheek, asks: “Is someone dying?”), we learn that his doctor has ordered him to lose 35 pounds, or suffer the consequence of death.  Rather than this being a wake-up call, we just have to listen to him bitch about not being able to eat anything the rest of the time.  (I will say that there is a legitimately funny sequence--the second of the entire series--when Ralph responds to a triple homicide at a restaurant, which leads to the title reference.  It's obvious as hell, to the point that I knew it was going to happen well before it did, but both the setup and execution were done very well.)

Are you still with me?  Oh good…I thought you  had fallen asleep.  In the next plot setup that’s so obvious there’s no real reason to watch this show, Vicki and her partner, Andy, go undercover to bust the guy that bought Patti’s baby.  After suffering through a thoroughly-embarrassing song about how he’s a “baby merchant”, and that he always delivers on his promises, they eventually buy the baby and then he’s caught in a sting.  Hmm…I wonder how this could effect the relationship between Vicki and Andy, having them pretend to be husband and wife.  But just a reminder--she’s married to fat forensic expert Ralph.  Will his refusal to change his life cause him to die, thus opening the door for Vicki to pursue her relationship with Andy without any resistance?  Either way, you just know something’s going to happen between them.  I’m also wondering if the baby they happened to purchase might be Patti’s child after all…

In the last bit, we finally see the mayor after her plastic surgery.  I thought they would make a mockery of this storyline (well, moreso than they already have), and have some supermodel play her post-op, but it’s still the same actress, just with makeup removed to make her look like a normal person.  She goes on a date with Chief Kendrick, though I’m unsure why he wanted to take her out before seeing her (as he’s waiting on her, he even mutters under her breath about how ugly she is), but once he sees her, he is immediately smitten.  Their date ends on a positive note as she appreciates her newfound beauty in the mirror by singing a song that I honestly completely blocked out.

I think I've mentioned this before, but the show honestly could have been pretty good if it had just set some standards on the songwriting.  For starters, there is no need for five songs per episode, which I believe has been the quota up through now.  If the songs would have been used sparingly--say, maybe once or twice per show--then they could have focused on maintaining a high level of quality for each of them, while still being able to focus on the individual storylines.  Since the songs are such the focal point, then the writers are pretty much forced to give us ridiculous novelty acts like the aforementioned "Baby Merchant".

"BABY MERCHANT"

Just from watching the above clip, you would assume that this show is in on the joke, and aware of the preposterousness of such a premise.  Only, I'm not so sure.  While there have certainly been attempts at humor in some episodes, they're usually limited to the occasional joke here and there, with the majority trying to deal with weighty issues and more mature themes.  So that makes it infinitely tougher to tell what was going on through the minds of the writers when they were penning each song.  No matter which way you look at it, it doesn't work for me, because that essentially leaves two options: Either these songs were intentionally meant to be over-the-top, which kind of takes away all of the impact when the show tries to be gritty and take on serious themes (like racism and gay rights in a later episode), or the writers were blissfully unaware they were taking their own songs into the realm of self-parody, at which case the above problem still applies.  You can make jokes and still have a hard-hitting, powerful show; you cannot intentionally turn your show into a mockery of itself, and have the same outcome.

As an hour of episodic television, this episode was pretty bad, but by the impossibly low standards set by this show, it’s probably the best one yet.  Whether it will build off of the small bit of momentum its conjured up has yet to be seen, and the plots seem to be heading in pretty predictable directions, but at least the thought of watching the next ep shouldn't fill me with such a mounting, and inescapable, feeling of dread.

EPISODE RATING: 4.5/10

FULL EPISODE

Near Dark (1987)

Director: Kathryn Bigelow
Writer(s): Bigelow, and Eric Red
Starring: Adrian Pasdar, Jenny Wright, Lance Henriksen, and Bill Paxton

Near Dark is a horror movie that seems intently hellbent on avoiding being called a horror movie.  Just take a look at the IMDb entry for it, and you will find that it’s billed as an “Action/Crime/Drama” film; it’s not until you scroll down for the remainder of the genre classifications that the rest are revealed: “Horror/Romance/Thriller/Western” (?).  Much to my shock, and my wife’s excitement, “romance” should actually be in the top 3, because despite all of its (occasionally) gruesome violence, and vampiric theme, this is, above all, a love story.  Think of it as Twilight done right, if that will help.

Adrian Pasdar plays Caleb Colton, a simple country man who lives with his father, and young sister.  One night, while out and about, Caleb stumbles upon Mae (Jennifer Wright), a woman who’s looking for a ride home.  Caleb happily obliges, but things soon take a turn for the weird, when Mae suddenly seems very concerned about making it home before sunrise.  Not realizing the gravity of the situation, Caleb messes around with her, making her kiss him before taking her home—bad move.  As you can probably surmise by now, Mae is a vampire, and she gives him a “vampire’s kiss” before exiting the car and running the rest of the way home.

A confused Caleb attempts to return to his own home, but as luck would have it, his car won’t start—he instead has to make it home on foot.  As the sun rises and starts beating down on him, he gets sicker and sicker.  He’s about in his own yard when inhabitants of an RV kidnap him.  Inside is Mae, and the rest of her vampire family, lead by a genius-as-always Lance Henriksen, as the coolly-named Jesse Hooker.  It seems he has just a few days to prove “he belongs” with the nomadic vampire family, and of course his initiation consists of murdering innocent people for their blood.

And so Caleb must choose—does he ditch his “real life” family for true love, or vice versa?  Or does he find a convenient cop-out loophole that allows him to sacrifice nothing, while still ending up with the woman of his dreams? 

Near Dark was directed by a young Kathryn Bigelow, well before she hit the big time with films like The Hurt Locker and Zero Dark Thirty.  She makes the most of her comparatively low-budget here, amassing a solid cast, while also delivering some convincing special effects for the time period.  There are some clever scenes, like a daylight shootout with cops at a motel, in which every bullet from the police send piercing rays of light into the room, capable of injuring the vampires even more than the bullets can.  It’s inspired scenes like this that elevate Near Dark above typical vampire fare.

I have to confess that this movie just didn’t grab me the same way it did when I viewed it as a teenager about fifteen years ago.  I always remembered it being endlessly creative and genius, and while there are some cool scenes (like the aforementioned motel sequence), most of it is just straightforward and fairly predictable.  I actually did like how the “romance” aspect comes to the forefront, with both Caleb and Mae making literal sacrifices to prove just how much they love and care for each other (without either of them having to “sparkle”), but the end just felt a little too neat and straightforward for my liking.

RECAP: If you are a vampire movie fan, and don’t mind some intriguing twists on the genre, this is a solid film that should be required viewing.  Hell, really fans of most genres will find something to like here, as the horror aspects are generally downplayed (though there is a massacre sequence at a bar that’s pretty violent, especially for those not familiar with horror films), and the love aspects stand front and center.  The performances are solid, the effects are good, and there are enough clever twists on the vampire subgenre to keep even seasoned fans intrigued.  It’s generally predictable, and not nearly as excellent as I remember from an earlier viewing, but still a million times more inspired than average mainstream fare these days.

RATING: 7/10

TRAILER

Cop Rock S1E3: Happy Mudder's Day

Starring:
Anne Bobby as Off. Vicki Quinn
Barbara Bosson as Mayor Louise Plank
Vondie Curtis-Hall as Det. Warren Osborne
Ronny Cox as Chief Roger Kendrick
David Gianopoulos as Off. Andy Campo
Larry Joshua as Capt. John Hollander
James McDaniel as Off. Franklin Rose
Ron McLarty as Ralph Ruskin
Mick Murray as Det. Joseph Gaines
Peter Onorati as Det. Vincent LaRusso

Written by: William M. Finkelstein and Stephen Bochco and John Romano

Directed by: Charles Haid

It’s weird how quickly things have died down here on “Cop Rock”; the first episode crammed about three hundred plot points into a brief 48-minute episode, but many of them seem to have fallen by the wayside.  There are still eight episodes left (really, that many?!) so I suppose they might be saving some for a rainy day, but I have to be perfectly honest here: my interest is waning.  I literally feel like each episode is an entire season…it’s just getting too much to slog through.

Anyway, the writers made it simple on us (and themselves) by focusing on only two plot points for this entire episode: the ludicrous investigation by Captain Hollander into the shooting of a known cop-killer by Detective LaRusso, and a random side story about the mayor running for a Senate seat that has to be seen to be believed.

To recap for those just joining me on this headache-inducing adventure, Tyrone Powers was an African-American male who was arrested on drug charges, but was let go due to overcrowding in prisons.  Right after being released back into the general population, he shot and killed a cop named Gilbert Braden.  For this reason alone, he would be a wanted man, with a bounty put on his head.  Sure enough, cops discover his whereabouts and go to grab him, only there’s one little problem: they don’t have a warrant.  LaRusso realizes the situation, and that a known cop killer would be released back onto the streets, and so he shoots him dead, making the whole scene look like an act of self-defense.

But Hollander inexplicably thinks something is up right from the outset, and has spent the last two episodes trying to prove that LaRusso acted in the wrong.  Well, he might finally get the chance to prove it here, as he makes an offer to Officer Potter, LaRusso’s partner at the time and witness to the whole event in question: Hollander will grant him immunity in exchange for coming clean.

Meanwhile, the mayor, a homely old woman whose name escapes me (edit: Mayor Louise Plank), is approached by some political types who suggest that she run for a Senate seat.  They think she can get her elected, only there’s one problem: focus groups have declared that she is one of the ugliest women they’ve ever seen.  So she sees a plastic surgeon to try to fix some of her most glaring flaws.  As stupid as this plot point is, it’s the best one we’ve seen so far, as my wife and I have despised her character since day one, so hearing people rip into her appearance was a welcome surprise (and it’s bizarrely a situation that’s played for laughs.)

Some of the episode also focuses on LaRusso, as he does what any cop who’s being investigated by his captain would do: hang out in seedy locations as an undercover cop, just under his own accord.  Oh, and we also learn that he’s dating a mud-wrestler (!).  He nearly blows one undercover sting when the subject holds his girlfriend hostage--after pretending not to care about her, the man lets her go and accepts his arrest.  If only all hostage negotiations were this easy!

The songs in this episode are all trash.  There’s typically been at least one song per episode that’s been kinda good, but that streak comes to an end here.  The opening number finds the police chief singing a country song while riding through the rough streets on a horse--it’s actually a pretty catchy song, but the accompanying images only succeed in making it irredeemably cheesy, which is an exact 180 from what they were going for.  The next one belongs to LaRusso’s stripper girlfriend, whom he treats like trash.  In it, she wonders why she continues to put up with his attitudes toward her.  She might have legitimate claims, but, like many of the songs featured here, it never rises above third-rate melodramatic junk.

Then there’s the gag-inducing number between an African-American couple who had the police called on them during one of their loud arguments.  After the man steals the cop’s gun and threatens everyone in the room with it, he is eventually calmed down, which leads to a “tear jerking” song about how they still do truly love each other underneath all the pain.  Then, in the worst one yet, the surgeon assigned to fix the senator’s face breaks out in a song all about how he strives for “perfection”.  Oh, and there’s a final one between the cops and all the “low-lifes” that come in and out of the station.  Sigh.

I’ve got to be honest here: I’m having a hard time even feigning interest in, and building up the courage to, continue watching this series.  Just when it seems like it has hit a new low, it somehow manages to find a way to dig itself in deeper.  Even discounting the song and dance numbers--which of course is the entire point of the show--the plotlines are just absolutely terrible, giving the viewer nothing positive to even latch on to, making it an all-around failure.

RATING: 2/10

FULL EPISODE

Hausu (1977)

Director: Nobuhiko Ôbayashi
Writer(s): Chiho Katsura, from an idea by Chigumi Ôbayashi
Starring: Kimiko Ikegami, Miki Jinbo, Kimiko Ohba, and Ai Matsubara

If Criterion, the company that released this long-hidden Japanese “haunted house” flick to the masses, can’t find a fitting way to describe it on the back of its own DVD case, then how am I supposed to describe it to you, my loyal readers?  The internet is chock-full of attempts to accurately convey what you’re in for when you sit down to a screening of Nobohiko Obayashi’s Hausu (House), and while they all succeed to some extent, the only way to really get an understanding of what it’s all about is simply to watch it.  It’s every bit as bizarre and indefinable as you've been lead to believe. 

But to simply dismiss it as a part horror, part comedy oddity is to ignore the freewheeling genius of Obayashi’s vision:  It’s a non-stop parade of originality, unveiled at a truly feverish, awe-inspiring pace.  Yet it’s all somehow imbued with an undercurrent of sincere emotion; the final sequence makes a statement that would be eye-rolling and preachy in any other work of melodramatic fiction, and yet here—amidst a sea of non-sequiturs and outlandish behavior—it somehow hits home, if for no other reason than it seems to be the only genuine scene in this whole state of affairs.

Describing the plot of Hausu is a truly futile, frustrating process, so I will just stick to the bare minimum:  Gorgeous (that is her name) plans to take a vacation with her father, who reveals at the last minute that another woman will be accompanying them: she is Ryouko, a woman that her father has been dating, without Gorgeous' knowledge, for some time now.  Disgusted at the thought of her dad getting over the loss of her mother so quickly (she died a whopping eight years ago), she refuses to accompany him, and instead writes a letter to an aunt that she has not seen in a decade, asking if she can come and visit her in her creepy secluded mansion.

She gets a letter back, accepting her request, and rounds up some friends from school to go with her.  Amusingly, similar to Gorgeous (so known because of her good looks) all of her friends are also named based on their personalities: There’s Prof (short for professor; she’s smart), Mac (is larger than the rest and always craves food), Fantasy (who is always daydreaming), Sweet (who is a clean freak), Kung Fu (who likes to fight), and Melody (who can play the piano).  All of them will rely on their unique traits to get them out of (or to put them in) perilous situations as it becomes apparent the house as a mind of its own.

But I’m getting a little ahead of myself here.  The aunt seems to be very excited to have visitors, as it is reiterated again and again that visitors rarely, if ever, come around.  Then, all of a sudden Mac disappears.  The remaining girls alternate between occasional concern and a complete lack of sympathy, as they continue to explore the house and all of its creepy nuances.  Not surprisingly, Mac’s disappearance is only the tip of the iceberg, and soon the house begins to pick off the survivors one by one.

The truth is, no amount of words can accurately convey just what makes Hausu so special; its charms mainly lie in the exhausting number of visual tricks and effects that Obayashi implements to bring his story to life: layers of video are layered on top of each other, disembodied heads come to life and attack, pianos devour unsuspecting women…and these instances are but a small fraction lying in wait to ambush oblivious folks who pop a copy of Hausu into their preferred media player of choice.  Often, the effects themselves are pretty awful, just as they probably were even back in 1977, when this film was made.  But they’re carried out with such a childish enthusiasm and infectious energy that they somehow work, before we move right on to the next set-piece.

According to the booklet that accompanies the Criterion DVD, Obayashi took many of the ideas for the plot from his eleven-year-old daughter, which suddenly puts some things into a little more perspective:  Was he attempting to make this movie the way he imagines she would have?  Or was he taking the idea of a haunted house horror film, and intentionally twisting it into a children’s film that his daughter could enjoy?  Where did the collaboration between him and his daughter stop?  The frantic visuals and neverending imagination don’t seem so weird and out-of-place when armed with this knowledge.

Whatever your opinion of Hausu, one thing is for certain: There’s enough imagination on display here to cover the amount of originality in a year’s worth of mainstream horror releases.  It won’t wow you with its plot (though the stilted dialogue is often hilarious), but its infectious sense of fun will win over all but the most jaded of audiences.  There’s some nudity, which kind of feels a little forced, and out-of-place (these girls are all supposed to be 16), but aside from bleeding walls, not much violence or gore to speak of, making it acceptable for most older audiences. 

RECAP: It doesn’t make much sense, but that doesn’t prevent Hausu from being, quite possibly, one of my favorite horror-themed films of all time.  Based off plotlines suggested by the director’s eleven-year-old daughter, it’s a seamless blend of wild inventiveness and childish enthusiasm, blended with an absolute fearlessness to try new things that is never short of awe-inspiring.  It’s certainly not for everyone (it’s probably not for most people), but if you enjoy original works, this is a movie you simply have to see to believe.

RATING: 9/10

TRAILER

Cop Rock S1E2: Ill-Gotten Gaines

Starring:
Anne Bobby as Off. Vicki Quinn
Barbara Bosson as Mayor Louise Plank
Vondie Curtis-Hall as Det. Warren Osborne
Ronny Cox as Chief Roger Kendrick
David Gianopoulos as Off. Andy Campo
Larry Joshua as Capt. John Hollander
James McDaniel as Off. Franklin Rose
Ron McLarty as Ralph Ruskin
Mick Murray as Det. Joseph Gaines
Peter Onorati as Det. Vincent LaRusso
Sidney Weitz as Dennis Lipscomb

Written by: William M. Finkelstein and Stephen Bochco and John Romano

Directed by: Gregory Hoblit

The first episode seemed to want to cram too many things in at once, with absolutely no “easing in” for the viewer; thankfully, here we have a chance to gather our senses.  Unfortunately, the plot that seems to be standing out in the spotlight is the most frustrating of the bunch: Capt. Hollander’s attempt to get to the bottom of what really happened to drug dealer, and known cop-killer, Tyrone Powers.

Powers, you will recall, was the cop-killing drug pusher from the first episode, who was killed by Officer LaRusso after he learned Tyrone was being detained without a warrant.  Rather than risk letting him go a second time (it was after he was released due to prison overcrowding the first time, that he ended up shooting a cop), he simply shot him dead, then made sure it looked like a shooting in self-defense.  And that’s how it looked to anyone who might have wandered into the crime scene, as LaRusso planted a machine gun on Powers’ body to make it look like he might have opened fire first.

It’s a little ridiculous that Captain Hollander would have even been able to tell just from looking at things that it was a homicide, rather than self-defense, and even stupider that he would keep pursuing it even after Internal Affairs ruled that LaRusso was correct in his actions.  If this were just a juvenile on a marijuana charge, I could understand his vendetta against LaRusso; but a cop-killer?  Come on…anyone in that department would just be happy he’s dead.  It’s just an ignorant storyline to have, and one that rings hollow, especially since police have long covered-up the “accidental” murders of people who have done far less.

“Ill-Gotten Gaines” starts off with the funeral service for Officer Braden, who was the cop killed by Powers.  Of course, his partner, Officer Rose, has to deliver a eulogy, and of course that eulogy has to come in the form of a song.  The shot of a saxophonist delivering the first few notes of the song is just another in a long-line of legendarily awful scenes; despite this false start, I have to admit that the song actually has a certifiable melody and some decent lyrics, automatically making it one of the better ones we’ve seen thus far (and by far the best one in this episode).

Meanwhile, Frank is returned to active duty patrolling the streets, and is given an awkward white cop as a partner who likes to sing Motown while they’re cruising the streets.  This upsets Frank, who simply wants to ride in peace, and he begs Hollander to find him a new partner.  Hollander refuses, though watching the way the rookie calmly and efficiently diffuses a potentially-dangerous situation wins him over, just as we knew something would.  There’s also a minor subplot involving a break-in at a rich house, but I’m thinking the only reason that’s thrown in there is so the show can provide us with two additional song-and-dance numbers: the first features Vicki and her partner Andy singing about how great it would be to be rich together, while the second is a cringe-inducing number featuring a gang of Cubans standing in a police lineup; it’s by far the worst of a bad bunch.

We’re only two episodes in, and the urge to throw in the towel is becoming more and more tempting with each passing minute spent watching this.  There are still nine episodes left.  At the current rate, that’s 36 mostly-intolerable musical sequences, and at least 9 more inane subplots that we’re going to have to slog through.  What’s amazing is that this show somehow still attempts to deal with real issues--there’s a sequence where a black cop is referred to as a “monkey” (though the derogatory term comes from another black man, which I guess lessens the impact some) that caught me completely off guard, but there’s just no room for a movie with dancing policemen to make any kind of serious statement whatsoever, and that‘s its biggest problem.  It’s nothing short of a complete failure overall, though at its best, which is incredibly rare, it at least manages to be a slightly interesting one.

EPISODE RATING: 3/10

FULL EPISODE

Anthropophagus: The Grim Reaper (1980)

Director: Joe D'Amato
Writer(s): D'Amato and George Eastman
Starring: Tisa Farrow, Saverio Vallone, Serena Grandi, and George Eastman

Skip this paragraph if you’ve heard me talk about my boring, movie-themed childhood, or want to avoid ruining this film's "pivotal" scene: When I was a late-teen/early-twentysomething, I went through a long phase where I tried seeking out the most graphic movies I could find. Anthropophagus was consistently mentioned as one of the “pinnacles” of such movies, and yet, for whatever reason, I never saw it.  It has gained infamy based on one harsh sequence, so known as the “fetus-eating scene”, because, in it, a pregnant character’s fetus is eaten, making it an appropriate nickname.

As I have mentioned in a previous review, slasher movies are the mainstream movie equivalent of hardcore pornography: no one cares about the story, they just want to get to the graphic bits.  Well if that analogy is considered accurate, than Anthropophagus: The Grim Reaper is the equivalent of a sex addict having to settle for softcore porn; there are long buildups to nothing, and despite its notoriety, there is surprisingly little violence, at least until its finale.  But by then, we have waited 70 minutes for something to happen, and it’s too little, too late.

It’s the kind of movie that makes much better background noise than it does actual viewing material—there’s really no mystery to speak of, save for what happened to an island’s previous inhabitants—but the answer to this is pretty clear from the outset.  To pay Anthropophagus any close attention is to simply waste your time; and by doing so, we have already put more effort into the whole production than the filmmakers themselves.

Tisa Farrow (of Lucio Fulci’s Zombie fame) plays Julie, a woman who solicits the help of some tourists looking to take a tour of Greek islands.  She, too, is looking for an island, but (surprise!) even though it’s along the way, it’s not one of them featured on the tour.  She talks them into dropping her off, where she can be reunited with some friends who inhabit the almost-uninhabited island.  With some reluctance (one of the tourists reads tarot cards, and gets a bad vibe about the place), they all agree to go.

There, they are hunted, one-by-one, and usually in long, drawn out sequences that end up with the characters being completely fine.  It’s seriously around the 50-minute mark that we even get our first glimpse of the “grim reaper” of the title, and even then he doesn’t become a main focus until we’re more than an hour in. I suppose I should be grateful that director Joe D’Amato at least tries to build some suspense, instead of just focusing on the graphic deaths, but it simply feels like padding, rather than anything of substance.

About the highest accolade that I can give it is that the killer’s makeup is pretty decent.  I have seen the actor (George Eastman, aka Louis Montefiori, who also co-wrote the film’s screenplay) in another production (Mario Bava’s excellent Rabid Dogs), and in complete makeup, even in close-ups, he is completely unrecognizable.  The gore scenes, for the most part, are pretty standard, save for the aforementioned infamous scene; though I didn’t find it to be as stomach-churning as I was expecting, I still have to give D’Amato props for at least trying something new.

Unless you are either a die-hard Italian horror fan, or a slasher film completist, there’s really not much here that’s worth the time investment required to watch it.  About the only thing that might make it worthwhile, is the fetus-eating scene, but that’s available in several locations on YouTube—if that’s the main reason you want to see this, as it was mine, then just spend the two minutes watching it online, and skip the rest.  Trust me, you’ll thank me later.

RECAP: A slow-moving “slasher” movie about a group of tourists being hunted on an uninhabited island, Anthropophagus has received attention for a nasty sequence that got the movie banned in several countries.  As grotesque as it is, it’s shockingly the only bit of creativity in this droll mess, which features no suspense, a bloated run-time of 90 minutes, and drawn-out scenes that are meant to build terror, but only end up leading to yawns.  If you’re merely curious about the infamous murder sequence described above, then save yourself 88 minutes and watch the clips of it online.

RATING: 2/10

FETUS SCENE (WARNING: NOT FOR SQUEAMISH OR MINORS)

TRAILER

Cop Rock, S1E1: Pilot

Starring:
Anne Bobby as Off. Vicki Quinn
Barbara Bosson as Mayor Louise Plank
Ronny Cox as Chief Roger Kendrick
David Gianopoulos as Off. Andy Campo
Larry Joshua as Capt. John Hollander
James McDaniel as Off. Franklin Rose
Ron McLarty as Ralph Ruskin
Mick Murray as Det. Joseph Gaines
Peter Onorati as Det. Vincent LaRusso

Written by: William M. Finkelstein and Stephen Bochco

Directed by: Gregory Hoblit

It all begins with a drug raid.  I suppose that’s as good as any way to start the first episode to a cop show: offer a bit of action to pull the viewer in, and just hope that they come back for more, time and time again.  The inside of the raided house features at least a half-dozen junkies, probably more, and all of them are arrested.  Two of the house’s inhabitants are Tyrone Weeks, a tenacious local drug dealer, and Patty Spence, a user who lives in the house with her baby daughter.

But let’s be honest here: action isn’t the first thing on the minds of most people sitting down to a viewing of “Cop Rock”.  Most people are looking forward to the first choreographed musical number, and thankfully it doesn’t take long; right after Tyrone is arrested in the raid, he rapspeaks lyrics that, among other things, clearly state that he will be let go of his charges.  It is amusing, and actually kind of cool, how bystanders also chime in to many of the songs, creating a choir effect--in this case, it’s in the form of several black gang members, as they join in Tyrone’s chorus of “In these streets, we have the power, we have the power, we have the power!”  The cops finally manage to toss him into the car and drive off.

Now, by this point, we are still on the fence about this whole project: it’s stupid, but still kind of cool.  That is, until Randy fuckin’ Newman is shown sitting at a piano, singing the show’s terrible theme, called “Under the Gun”, while several out-of-character cast members watch and nod their heads in approval.  It’s an awfully misconceived introduction that, aside from the gun at the beginning, has nothing to do with either “cops”, nor “rock”, and lead to some unintentional guffaws from my wife and I.  It’s the first moment where just how dumb of an idea this is suddenly hits you, and unfortunately for the show, it starts around the three minute mark.  It also reflects poorly on the Emmy’s, who actually gave this piece-of-shit song an award.  Just one of many reasons to proudly say: Fuck the Emmy’s.

After that bit of embarrassment, we’re back to the main story.  Sure enough, Tyrone is returned to the streets thanks to a lack of evidence, and overcrowded jails…that same day, he ends up killing a police officer who was giving chase to his van.  The fallen officer is Gilbert Braden, partner to Frank Rose, who stands over his body and screams for help.  Much to my relief, there are no songs sung here.

Now we go back to check on Patty, whose daughter is being taken away from her.  For reasons unknown, female officer Vicki Hill, who pities the young addict, pulls some strings and has her baby daughter returned to her.  Despite this nice gesture, Patty still refuses to cut drugs out of her life, instead reassuring Vicki that she will “cut back”.  I’m sure that’s just what she wanted to hear.  But Vicki herself is battling personal issues--namely an attraction to her partner, and a marriage to a rather fat and unattractive man, who belts out a song about how, out of all men, “she chose me”.  It’s every bit as bad and as misplaced as you would think it would be.

Jesus, the plot points are so ridiculous that I’m just going to bullet-point them in an effort to summarize them way quicker:

• The mayor of the city, who wants to build a new jail thanks to overcrowding in the prison system, accepts a bribe, via song, and gives the contractor the job to build the jail.
• Detective LaRussso fakes an injury while testifying against a drug dealer to give his story more weight…sure enough, it works.
• Patty offers information on Tyrone in exchange for drug money, because she is desperate.  She is initially given $50, but is quickly cut off when her leads turn out to be false.  So she does what any struggling mother would do: sell her baby for a whopping $200 (complete with song)., even though she spends the rest of the episode fighting to keep it (?)
• LaRusso and his partner, Potts, discover where Tyrone is hiding, and grab a warrant to bust him, only to find that other cops have already nabbed him, meaning he is being held on his property illegally, thus canceling the warrant.  Angered, LaRusso shoots and kills Tyrone, planting a machine gun on him to give the appearance of self-defense.  But Captain Hollander isn’t convinced of the “self-defense” theory, and insinuates that he would like to bring LaRusso to justice.

Phew!  And all this happens in a scant 48 minutes!  Even without the nonsensical dance routines this would be a lot to stomach--but with them, it’s way too much.  Really, this first episode, while no doubt laying the foundation for the entire season, bites off way more than it can chew--many characters are in and out within two minutes of screen time, which doesn’t give you much time to get to “know” any of the cops-turned-theater-stars.  This, even moreso than the bizarre blend of singing, and police procedural, is probably the biggest turn-off of the pilot, as no single person or plot point is given any time to resonate.

I also made the mistake of being turned on to this series thanks to the track “He’s Guilty”, which is actually pretty badass.  The more I learn about this show, however, it’s quickly becoming apparent that good songs are more the exception than the rule.  To wit, the gospel-tinged “I’m Guilty” is far and away the best (with jurors donning gospel choir garb and adding background vocals), while “The Bribery Song” is forgettable, the opening “In These Streets” is okay, and “She Chose Me” is so terrible and ill-timed that words have not yet been created that can accurately summarize it.

I’m hoping with eleven episodes total, that the stories will be spread out and given more time from here on out, which would at least fix the problem of an absolute plot overload.  Even with that problem out of the way, however, we still have the song and dance numbers…

EPISODE RATING: 3.5/10

FULL EPISODE

TV Tuesdays: Cop Rock (1990)

In our new feature, TV Tuesdays, we will be taking a look at forgotten, short-lived television shows.   Some may have been forgotten for good reason, while others just might have been prematurely killed by impatient networks.  Every week, we will review an episode of said show, in chronological order, from beginning to end.  Without further adieu, let's kick things off with an introduction that was supposed to be posted yesterday.

SERIES INTRODUCTION: COP ROCK

Unlike many of the television shows that I plan to revisit for the sake of this blog, I never witnessed an episode of “Cop Rock” during its initial run.  This is due, in large part, to my age at the time (six years old), but probably an equal amount to the fact that no one really watched it during its initial run.  It sputtered through eleven episodes before being unceremoniously dumped by ABC (and I’m honestly quite surprised that it even made it that far.)

So why did I take a keen interest to watching it for the first time?  Easy.  History is rife with examples of television shows that were axed before their prime, ones that were never given ample time to resonate with viewers, or to wrap up key narratives.  We all know the typical examples of this--”Firefly” and “Freaks and Geeks” to name just two of the more obvious ones--but with all the series’ that have come and gone, it’s only a matter of common sense that some gems still remain forgotten.  I figured “Cop Rock” might end up being one of them, a show so bold and ahead of its time that it merely slipped through the cracks.

Oh, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that the entire premise also played a crucial role in gaining my interest: As the title alludes, this is a cop show, but with added song and dance numbers.  Let that sink in your head for a moment, because it gets even more astonishing: It’s completely serious.  This isn’t a spoof of cop shows with ridiculous song and dance numbers used for comedic effect--it actually tries to be a gritty look at police procedurals, with serious musical interludes attempting to drive home that point.

My interest only grew after watching a clip on YouTube entitled “He’s Guilty”, in which we learn the verdict of a drug dealer via a pop-up song and dance: the jurors suddenly become gospel singers, while the court reporter lifts up his desk to reveal a keyboard.  It’s all so absurdly idiotic at first, until it sets in that the song is actually really pretty good, its bizarre presentation only heightening the appeal.  With this, I was convinced; all it took was playing the same song to my wife for her to get excited, too.

Of further interest: It was actually co-created by the one and only Stephen Bochco, he of “Hill Street Blues” fame.  Just given its poor reception amongst critics (TV Guide picked this as #8 in a list of worst television shows of all time), I’m actually surprised that he was allowed to continue working in the industry in the face of having his name on such a bona fide bomb, but it’s a good thing he was:  He would go on to create the wildly-successful “NYPD Blue” just three years later, showing that, when he actually listened to his better judgment, he was capable of creating runaway hits.

Since this is the first show we’ll be taking a look at, here are some details about how it will work: Starting today, we will be unleashing individual episode reviews every Tuesday, until we’ve taken a look at all eleven episodes.  If my calculation is correct, the final episode will actually be posted on May 17th, which also happens to be the same day the official DVD release hits store shelves (note that I am not affiliated with that project in any way, shape, or form, instead opting to watch the series on YouTube)!  Following the last episode, there will be a brief recap of what I thought of the series as a whole, and then that will be that.  Then I’ll take a break of unspecified length before moving on to the next television show.

So why don't you stick around, because we're going to be kicking things off with “Cop Rock” and its first episode, conveniently titled “Pilot” here within the next couple of hours! 

In the meantime, here's the video that sucked me in to this whole project...

"HE'S GUILTY"

Carnival of Souls (1962)

Director: Herk Harvey
Writer(s): John Clifford
Starring: Candace Hilligoss, Frances Feist, Sidney Berger, and Herk Harvey

Carnival of Souls is the kind of movie where either nothing happens, or everything does; by the end, you will probably know just as little as you did in the beginning.  And yet it is somehow accomplished in an utterly transfixing, and completely engrossing way.  All too often filmmakers seem to feel the need to explicitly answer every question they pose, to tie every subplot up with a neat and tidy little bow, and make sure they ever so gently hand the gift-wrapped story device to us, lest we be caught off guard by any of it.

Carnival of Souls works in the complete opposite direction; it seems to get sadistic glee out of intentionally posing questions for us, and then leaving them to permanently dangle in midair.  It also seems to enjoy going out of its way to ensure that there is no neat or tidy explanation; the internet is chockfull of theories as to what exactly happens, and while there are some completely fascinating ones, even the best of them can be refuted by a single scene.

This mindset, paired up with some nightmarish imagery, and a complete disregard for structuring, makes this a jarring, almost experimental work.  It’s one of those rare low-budget horror movies that would have only been hindered with a larger cash supply, as the minimalist approach suits it well.

It all begins with a drag race:  At a red light, Mary Henry and her two friends are challenged to one.  The other car has two men in it, but what starts off as a friendly battle quickly turns to tragedy, when Mary’s car veers off a bridge—despite the desperate rescue attempts of passersby, and eventually the local authorities, there are no signs of life.  Well, until what appears to be an hour or so later, when Mary somehow stumbles out of the water, shaken up but otherwise in perfect health.

She quits her job as a church organist, and sets her sights on a similar job in Utah.  Along the way, she becomes drawn to an abandoned pavilion, which served as a carnival several years ago.  She can’t get the place out of her head, nor can she shake a ghostly white figure that appears to her at random times, yet that no one else can see.  Did she trade her sanity for survival…or did she even survive at all?

The writing is surprisingly pretty solid for such a low-budget work.  There were several witty one-liners that got me laughing, and the interplay between Mary and John Linden, a neighbor who desperately wants to “court” her, gradually grew on me.  I also appreciate how writers Herk Harvey (who also directed) and John Clifford seem to go out of their way to create an indecipherable mess of a story, which makes for a lively topic of debate long after the movie has ended.

But its stark, black-and-white photography is what elevates this beyond most genre fare; this success rests on the shoulders of cinematographer Maurice Prather, who worked mainly on educational features prior to lensing Carnival of Souls.  Given his background, that makes the end result that much more fascinating; George A. Romero has gone on record saying the photography in this movie was a huge influence on Night of the Living Dead, another landmark horror film.

As for whether or not this movie is “scary”, I can only say what it did, or what it did not do, for me; I was never “scared”, at least in a traditional sense, though there were a couple scenes that filled me with an almost inexplicable creepiness, or a growing sense of dread.  Yet it seemed to cast a spell on me; I was thoroughly engaged through the whole thing.  Even when I had no idea what the hell was going on, I was still completely absorbed in its world--which walks the line between reality, and dreamscape—and I didn’t ever want to leave.  It’s been a long time since a movie has effected me in this way.

The biggest downside was the poor audio quality of the version I saw, which made it very hard to hear clearly.  The beginning also had some awful dubbing (the words didn’t even sync up with the moving mouth), but it seemed to get better as it went on, because I didn’t notice a problem again.  It might also have been with the version I saw, which was a public domain print on a very popular video website; I have no doubts that DVD versions would be much crisper.

RECAP: Carnival of Souls is fantastic, a rare example of a low-budget horror film that is not only unhindered due to its frugal financing, but thrives because of it.  The photography is exceptional, and plays a large part in creating a world that is part waking dream, part nightmare; it is nevertheless always engrossing.  It has also influenced countless filmmakers, including George Romero, for his own Night of the Living Dead, which was produced 6 years later.  An absolute must see for horror fans.

RATING: 9/10

TRAILER