Green Room (2016)

Director: Jeremy Saulnier
Writer(s): Saulnier
Starring: Anton Yelchin, Joe Cole, Alia Shawkat, Imogen Poots, and Patrick Stewart

I do not get excited for theatrical releases very often, especially when I am disappointed by a director’s previous release, but the hype level was through the roof for me concerning Jeremy Saulnier’s follow-up to Blue Ruin.  Why, you may ask?  Because, while I was a little letdown by his debut revenge thriller, I still saw loads of potential in Saulnier, calling him a “promising filmmaker” and even declaring that “I’m still eagerly looking forward to his future releases.”  Crazily enough, it was during research for that review (which I just realized is part of my unpublished backlog, so you’ll just have to take my word for it) that I stumbled on the trailer for this, caught some positive pre-release buzz, and saw that it would be premiering in my city about two months from then.  I made sure to put it on the calendar; to put that into perspective, it would be just the second time in the past two years that I went to a theater to see a movie—and the only other time was two nights ago, when my wife and I went to a second-rate theater to see a movie that we received free tickets for.

Just as Saulnier took the revenge thriller and stripped it down to its most basic parts in his previous film, he imbues Green Room with a little twist of its own: all of the people involved, on either side, are not complete idiots.  Thus, the showdown that ensues between a punk band in unfamiliar territory and a group of neo-Nazi skinheads feature both sides calculating their options and slowly raising the stakes.  Of course, the skinheads hold a distinct advantage, knowing the building inside and out, but the longer the band stays alive, the more their momentum grows.  Watching it all unfold is very similar to watching a chess match, as both sides are constantly formulating new plans as the situations change.  Obviously, not all of them succeed, much in the same way that our decisions in real-life can have life-altering (or even “ending”) consequences, but these are mostly intelligent people who, on the punk side, are in a desperate situation to stay alive, and for the skinheads, are in a desperate situation to avoid death and/or jail-time, and for the most part, there’s a convincing level of believability to their pre-scripted decisions.

It all starts with “The Ain’t Rights”, the punk band in question, heading to Seaside, Oregon to record an interview for a radio show.  When the band, who is made up of members Sam, Reece, Pat, and Tiger, asks when they can expect their piece to air, the interviewer, Tad, reveals that he had his radio segment revoked, so he’s not sure when, or even if, it ever will.  Rightfully pissed off that they traveled all that way for nothing (and are so broke they even had to siphon gas to make it that far), Tad sets them up with a show at a punk café as a favor. Unfortunately for him, that digs him in even deeper: turnout is so low, that even after giving the band his own cut of the proceeds, their total haul still only comes out to a little over $6 per bandmember.  Still fuming over the situation, they eventually decide to cut their losses and return home, something they soon wish they would have done.  Because before you know it, Tad is placing a call to his cousin for a guaranteed show the following day just outside Portland.  The catch?  It’s at a bar run by, and populated with, white supremacists.  Relatively unfazed, but more desperate, the band accepts Tad’s offer, and head for the venue in time to make it for their afternoon show.

Once they get there, they have only a few minutes before their matinee set begins.  As a joke, the lead vocalist, Tiger, suggest that they kick things off with a cover of the Dead Kennedy’s “Nazi Punks Fuck Off”, an “inspired” choice given their surroundings.  Not surprisingly, it doesn’t go over too well; Pat, the guitarist, seems visibly shaken by the crowd’s hostile reaction.  I guess contrary to popular belief, skinheads do not have strong senses of humor after all.  Despite the rocky start, the rest of the gig seems to go off without a hitch, and right after their set they are quickly ushered out of the bar to make room for the next act.  Well, that’s what was supposed to happen, anyway; in all of the commotion and hustling, Sam (Alia Shawkat, from “Arrested Development” fame) realizes that she forgot her phone in the “green room” (a term used for the waiting room of a venue where performing acts hang out before taking the stage), which Pat offers to retrieve for her.  What should be a simple task gets blown out of proportion when he stumbles on Emily, a dead girl with a knife in her head.  Hovering over her are Werm (an evil-looking man) and Amber, Emily’s friend. 

News of a murder must travel fast, because two of the bar’s bouncers, Gabe and Justin, quicky catch wind of the situation, and force “The Ain’t Rights” back into the green room.  Justin hangs in there and holds everyone at gunpoint while Gabe runs off to call the police, and also notifies the bar’s owner, Darcy (a fiendish Patrick Stewart), of the unfolding events.  Darcy is a quietly terrifying man, the type that never raises his voice, yet who knows no limits to his depravity or thirst for blood.  As he shows up to try to handle the situation, the band wrestles the gun away from Justin and hold him at gunpoint.  Meanwhile, Amber joins the band’s side, distressed over the murder of her friend, which has still come under mysterious circumstances.  Darcy tries negotiating through the door for the gun; at the last second Amber sees that Darcy is not alone, as he has assured them, so she calls a trap…and so begins an intense, exhausting standoff, filled with some of the most devastating acts of simulated violence ever captured on film.

And it’s the way Green Room handles its bloodshed that might just be its most triumphant aspect: It’s presented in sharp, shocking bursts that are repellently graphic and hard-to-stomach, even for a genre aficionado like me.  This isn’t a film that revels in it for the sake of entertainment, but rather one that rubs our noses in its ugliness, as if attempting to undo years of playful desensitizing at the hands of the Freddy’s and the Jason’s, and trying to re-convince us of the real-life finality and brutality that can accompany us in life’s final moments.  It's largely effective in this mission, though an early scene involving a box-cutter that is so over-the-top it becomes laughable, prevents it from achieving near-perfection.

Unfortunately, there are some cheap narrative cushions that Saulnier just can’t seem to resist—or are they included at the insistence of the studio/distributor?  One thing that I cannot stand are the moments when otherwise-serious movies feel the need to throw in humor during violent situations; there are a couple one-liners after kills that cheapen the effect, and feel a little hypocritical for a movie trying to portray its murders in such an ugly light.  Green Room also has a chance to end on a heart-wrenching moment of perfect and genuinely unexpected poignancy, but goes on for thirty more seconds just so it can deliver a final, predictable punchline to an ongoing series of jokes that were never funny to begin with.  These may be relatively minor annoyances, but again, in a film that prides itself on its intelligence and audacity, the pointlessness of their inclusion is thoroughly magnified.

In spite of these shortcomings, Green Room is still highly recommended to strong-stomached fans of the horror genre.  I was curious to see how Saulnier would follow up Blue Ruin, and he did so by making an even better film; now I’m really looking forward to seeing whether his next film can continue on his rapidly-rising career trajectory, and if he sticks with his two-word “[color] [noun or verb]” formula that he’s been using lately to name his next picture.

RECAP: Intense as all hell, with unsettling and graphic violence to boot, Green Room is a sharp step forward for writer/director Jeremy Saulnier (Blue Ruin), which turns the horror genre on its ear by presenting characters that aren’t completely stupid (gasp!)  Patrick Stewart is, as you’ve heard everywhere else, excellent in his villainous role as the eerily calm, yet unspeakably evil bar owner Darcy, while the rest of the cast also deliver high-quality performances.  Once it gets going, and it doesn’t take long, it puts the pedal to the metal and never lets up, making it one of the more effective horror films I’ve seen in a while.

RATING: 8/10 

Pulp Fiction (1994)

Director: Quentin Tarantino
Writer(s): Tarantino, from a story by Tarantino and Roger Avery
Starring: John Travolta, Samuel L. Jackson, Bruce Willis, Uma Thurman

What can you say about Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction that hasn’t been already said by thousands of critics and moviegoers?  It launched the career of Tarantino, rejuvenated John Travolta’s, and raised the stock of Samuel L. Jackson, Tim Roth, and Bruce Willis tenfold.  It’s a crime caper, featuring an anthology of loosely-connected stories that was considered ingenious and daring during its release.  But now that the dust has settled, and we have had 21 years to acclimate ourselves with this talky action classic, does it still hold up as well as it used to?

Before we get to that, let’s just run through the plot.  This will be a mere formality, as dozens of other articles will go into it more in depth, and analyze it down to the most minute of details, if that’s what you’re looking for; likewise, if you’re actually planning on watching it, and have never seen it before, the less you know about it, the better.  Pulp Fiction begins with two petty criminals (Amanda Plummer and Tim Roth) in a restaurant; together, on a whim, they come up with an idea to rob the restaurant, figuring no one would be expecting that.

After this, we meet Vincent Vega (Travolta) and Jules Winnfield (Jackson), two hitmen who are discussing the differences between European and American fast food establishments, on their way to a hit.  Afterwards, Vincent is tasked with taking out a young lady, Mia Wallace, who happens to be the boss’ wife.  Then, we meet Butch (Bruce Willis), an aging boxer who makes an agreement with Marsellus Wallace (Ving Rhames, and the aforementioned boss) to take a dive in the first round of his next boxing match—but things go awry when Butch reneges on his agreement, instead winning by KO...and killing his opponent.  These stories go much farther and deeper into detail, but the movie contains so many surprises and twists that I wouldn’t want to ruin it by accidentally giving something away—this should nevertheless get you through the first hour, or so, and then things get really interesting.

Pulp Fiction gained most of its fame from the way it was shot—these stories are told in fragmented bits and parts, with the chronology jumping all over the place.  So, for example, after one character is killed, he still may reappear in a later segment alive, because the story has jumped backwards in time.  It sounds confusing, and though the unconventional approach might be a little disorienting at first, most people will get accustomed to the constant jumping around within a few scenes.  Some of the stories are loosely intertwined, with characters appearing in the story arcs of another, and the whole restaurant intro comes back at the end to bring everything full circle…it’s a genius narrative gimmick that was mind-blowing in its day, and still holds up fairly well today, even though a spate of copycats over the years have somewhat diminished its potency.

Aside from Quentin Tarantino’s questionable (and completely unnecessary) decision to put himself in the role of Jimmie, where he looks terribly out of place, the acting is almost flawless across the board.  This is definitely a good thing, because if the acting wasn’t up to snuff, then the film’s long-winded ramblings would have come across as pompous and egotistical.  Somehow, the actors take them and make them not only believable, but entertaining, which couldn’t have been an easy feat.

I could probably ramble on about the cinematography, or the special effects, or the interesting story behind its production, or how Tarantino was said to have modeled the multi-tiered “anthology” premise of his story off of none other than legendary Italian horror director Mario Bava’s Black Sabbath (my favorite horror film of all time), but all of these things have been examined in greater detail, by writers far more talented than I.  All I know is, this is a movie worthy of its praise, and while the years have slightly diminished the strength and originality of its fragmented storytelling, there is no denying the influence that Tarantino’s movie continues to exert on modern films.  While I’m not sure I would consider it one of my favorite movies of all time, it’s required viewing simply for the rags-to-riches story—how one man, armed with a camera, endless determination, and with a little luck—could go on to make the highest-grossing independent film of its time, and change the face of cinema in the process.

RECAP: Pulp Fiction is one of the rare movies that deserves just about all of the praise that it gets.  Despite its 152-minute run time, it remains fascinating throughout, mainly due to the narrative structuring, as well as its willingness to wallow in unpredictability.  Aside from Tarantino’s terrible performance, the rest of the actors bring their “A” game, which help to give character to most of the constant monologues and quirky dialogue.  Say what you want about it, or Tarantino in general (his modern interviews are so egotistical that they come off as cringe-worthy), there’s no denying that his independent feature helped to change the face of mainstream cinema.

RATING: 9/10

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Cop Rock S1, E8: Potts Don't Fail Me Now

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
Jeffrey Alan Chandler as Ray Rodbart
Teri Austin as Trish Vaughn

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

Directed by: Brad Silberling

Let’s get things started this week with something that I have largely been ignoring, that also plays a big role in the conflicting emotions this series toys with, and that’s the episode titles, which tend to be puns involving the characters played to comedic effect.  While this week’s title is a pretty terrible pun (it’s a takeoff of “Feets, don’t fail me now”, which I had to look up to understand), it has a history that is actually befitting of this episode.  It was attributed to several African-American performers in the 1920s who went by names like Stepin Fetchit, or Sleep ‘n Eat…in other words, black performers who catered to the stereotype of the lazy Negro.  It is perhaps unsurprising that both of them went on to be two of the most famous black actors of their day, though it came at the cost of belittling their own race and heritage.

I noted that the last episode started dealing with topics of racism and homophobia--this episode continues that trend by sticking mostly to racism.  Ironically, though, it all begins with some white people drama: Ralph confronts Vicki and encourages her to find another partner, which she refuses to do, simply because she won‘t allow her husband to bully her.  It seems like a scene like this is now required in every episode going forward; it’s quickly becoming the least interesting plotline of the entire series.  This scene also leads to the pre-theme song, in which Vicki and some friends sing “Why Can’t a Man Be More Like a Woman?” in the ladies’ locker room.  Pretty painful stuff.

"WHY CAN'T A MAN BE MORE LIKE A WOMAN?"

But this isn’t the only time it rears its ugly head: later on, at a bar, Campo (Vicki’s partner for those not in the know) approaches Ralph, hoping to find a way to set aside their differences.  Ralph assures him there is a way to do that, and then proceeds to punch him in the face.  A fight ensues, but is quickly broken up by other bar patrons.  This leads to a visit to the captain’s office, who encourages them to settle their differences amongst themselves, because if Captain Hollander has to do it for them, they won’t like the consequences.

To round out this plot development, at least as far as this episode is concerned, Vicki visits Ralph at the office and encourages him to go to counseling with her.  He is reluctant, but he strikes up a compromise: if he goes to counseling to help save their marriage, she has to get another partner.  I have a feeling Ralph will end up doing further damage to his marriage in some way, thus pushing Vicki right into Campo’s arms at some point in the near future…we’ll see if I’m right!

Moving onto the race aspects, which dominate almost all the other storylines for the week: The white cops assigned to watch the Potts residence (reminder: Potts is the black cop scheduled to testify against is white partner, Detective LaRusso, who shot and killed a known cop-killer for no reason) “capture” three men on Potts’ lawn who are attempting to speak to him.  One of whom, Omar, is played by Tony Todd, who you may remember as either Ben from the Night of the Living Dead remake, or as the Candyman in the eponymous film (or any one of his other 192 film and television credits)!  The cops play their tough guy routine, but Potts wants to hear what the men, who are from a Muslim organization, have to say.  They are concerned that he has white officers watching him and his family, and offer their protection, believing that blacks would better protect one of their own.  He denies this and sends them on their way.

Continuing on with Potts, who gets a lot of screen time in this one, he is “pre-screened” by Sidney Weitz and Trish Vaughn, who as you may remember are the attorneys for Detective LaRusso.  They just want to know roughly how he is going to respond to the questions on the stand, to see if he will make a good witness for them; he answers the questions truthfully, and then gets his words twisted around by Trish, which frustrates him and causes him to storm out of the room.

For a second opinion, Potts goes to a black lawyer who either seems to specialize in, or merely has a lot of experience with, police cases.  The lawyer tells him to support LaRusso’s claim, much to Potts’ shock, with the explanation that if he testifies against him, as he is planning to do, all the white cops on the force will see LaRusso as a martyr, while they’ll see him as a rat, and want to make life hell for him.  This leads Potts to have a change of heart, so he goes to tell Captain Hollander that he’s changed his mind, and that he is not going to testify.  This disappoints Hollander, mainly because he wants to see LaRusso behind bars, but there’s really nothing he can do about it.  At the end of the episode, he is approached by Commander Warren Osborne, also a black man and the right-hand man of the Chief of Police, who tells him that his fellow officers already see him as a traitor, and that they’re going to give him a tough time even if he steps down, so he might as well do the right thing.  This gives him some food for thought for the next ep.

In the other racially-tinged plotline, a six-year-old African-American child is gunned down, by accident, after getting caught in the crossfire of a drive-by shooting.  He is the only casualty.  For dramatic effect, there’s the required scene that the mother, who seems to always have to be a larger black woman, runs out screaming and crying that her baby has been taken from her.  Of course, “Cop Rock” can take it one step further, and they do, by giving her a song, with lyrics such as: “Why God must the innocent suffer, Lord? How many must die, Lord, before we know why, Lord?”  It’s an admirable attempt, I suppose, but the minimalist music and bland lyrics do in what could have been a much more powerful song.

"WHY LORD?"

Officer Frank Rose is disgusted by the scene of a dead six-year-old kid in a rough neighborhood, but is bothered even moreso by the lack of concern from Detective Miller, who is the white cop tasked with overseeing the investigation.  At one point, Rose approaches Miller at a bar, giving him a list of partial tags and descriptions of vehicles that were spotted at the scene.  Obviously, Rose is merely doing this out of interest in the case, but Miller sees this as a personal attack; his response is to sing a song to Rose’s partner, Joe Gaines, about how Rose can’t be trusted, simply because he’s black (“When you need a man to watch your back, blue is blue and black is black” are some example lyrics, with an emphasis on, and a look of utter contempt during, the last part).  As expected, an unswayed Gaines calls him a “jerk” and leaves.

Later on, Rose follows up on the case again with Miller, who storms into the Captain’s office and tells him that if the Captain won’t “take care” of Rose, then he will.  This doesn’t seem to sit too well with Cap’n Hollander, but things go south even quicker when, later on, Miller tells Rose that he sees black-on-black crime merely as a “thinning of the herd”.  Officers are quick to hold back both Rose and Miller, thus preventing a black-on-white crime, but he’s immediately called to Hollander’s office, where he is essentially told to either retire, or he’ll eventually be fired.

In yet another racist-tinged narrative, Chief Kendrick comes under fire at the courthouse that will be hearing the Vincent LaRusso case: he goes on a tirade to the media about how just the fact that LaRusso is being tried makes him sick to his stomach, and that the only people that are questioning his character are “rich west side leftists, negro con merchants“, and the “entertainment industry”, which he feels is mostly made up of “drug addicts, crybabies, and homosexuals who are intent on tearing down all our traditional American values.”  As if this wasn’t enough, he calls LaRusso’s own lawyer “one smart Jew.”  The journalists there couldn’t get to their computers quickly enough after being bombarded with all those sound bytes.

In her only appearance in this episode, Louise Plank chastises him for his behavior, while he thinks that the only people that were angered by his comments, were those that already hated him.  She counters that, as the mayor, she will be called upon to answer to any uproar that this may cause, and that they need to enact some immediate “damage control” to prevent the whole thing from becoming a political liability.  The scene is kind of lost when, despite her impassioned speech just two seconds ago, she still says she wants to have sex with him.  Thankfully, Kendrick isn’t in the mood, and leaves her office.

And to wrap everything up, Captain Hollander runs into trouble of his own when he gets caught up in work and is late to his son’s piano recital; so late, in fact, that he completely missed his son’s turn.  His wife angry, this turns into the clichéd, obligatory cop show storyline where she reprimands him for making promises to his son that he can’t keep, while Captain Hollander defends himself by saying he’s so busy, things are bound to slip through the cracks.  He then goes into his sleeping son’s room and sings a song about how he wants to be there for him, or some such trite nonsense.

All-in-all, this was yet another episode that didn’t completely suck.  While a lot of it is understandably bland--understandable because this aired on network television in the early ‘90s, so it can only push the envelope so far--the scene in which the black lawyer tells him why he should back away is sadly logical, and no doubt genuine, from a society that still can’t accept humans at face value.

EPISODE RATING: 5.5/10

FULL EPISODE

Hush (2016)

Director: Mike Flanagan
Writer(s): Flanagan and Kate Siegel
Starring: Kate Siegel, John Gallagher Jr., Michael Trucco, and Samantha Sloyan

Hush proves that no matter what disability you give your main character, a shitty home invasion movie is still a shitty home invasion movie.  It also proves just how easy it is to trick critics into thinking you’ve made something special: throw in a heroine that doesn’t lay down and play submissive at the first sign of trouble, and watch them all rush to crown your work the next horror masterpiece.  Just excuse the fact that she’s one of the stupidest characters to grace a horror film in a long time; her only saving grace is that the man who randomly decides he wants to kill her is somehow even stupider.  Also, ignore that the story is nothing but standard genre fare…in other words, take the idea of a tough, deaf woman out of the picture, and what you’re left with is a terrible, lazy excuse for a film that no one would have even batted a lash at.

Kate Siegel (also one of the co-writers) plays Maddie Young, a deaf writer who logically lives all by herself in a secluded cottage buried deep in the woods.  Without a gun or any manner of weaponry for self-defense.  Now, I understand that real-life writers often quarantine themselves away from others when writing, but isn’t that usually to get a little peace and quiet?  At the expense of sounding rude, isn’t that all that Maddie hears to begin with?  All half-joking aside, it’s kind of an idiotic set-up already, as her friends constantly worry about her and her safety, but hey, it’s a horror movie!  Let’s just bare with it…

Hush begins by quickly establishing her lifestyle: she talks on the phone to a couple friends (via videophone and sign language), ignores a call from her ex-boyfriend Craig, decides to FaceTime Craig but backs down at the last second, then ignores him again when he calls back, FaceTime’s her sister, and in between all this, sits herself down to write her next novel.  Also, to spoon-feed us every little tidbit of information that we might possibly need to understand this complex plot, her friend, Sarah, from a nearby house that always remains unseen, stops by to give Maddie a glowing review of her first novel, and to return her copy of it.  They spend a couple hours chatting on her front porch, conveniently taking us from daylight to dusk, before Sarah heads home.  Only, she never makes it.

While Maddie is in the kitchen, preparing dinner, Sarah runs up to her side door, which is conveniently all glass.  She screams, begging for help, furiously pounding on the glass door before a masked killer comes up and finishes her off.  This is concerning because it also shows us another sense that Maddie apparently lacks, and that’s peripheral vision: even though this whole attack lasts over a minute, literally FEET away from her, and even though she spends a good amount of this time facing forward, at an angle where the furious flash of colors and motion would have captured the attention of even a blind person, she goes about obliviously continuing to go about her task.  Hold on, it gets worse.

The killer, who by now has already figured out that she cannot hear, opens her front door and stands mere feet away from behind her as she tries writing her novel on the couch.  It’s chilly out, something we know because not five minutes of screen time later, she opens the very same front door and shudders.  Yet she can’t feel the draft of the open door as she cluelessly types away, nor can she feel the presence of an intruder staring at her while brandishing a knife?  She is finally clued in that something is amiss a little later, when her previously-missing phone turns up with photos of her sitting in the house, including one snapped mere seconds earlier.  Now she realizes that something is wrong; the man soon appears on her front porch brandishing a crossbow, and one of the most asinine “hunter” vs. “hunted” films ever made is underway.

Actually, it doesn’t feel so much a game of cat-and-mouse as it does a case of writers trying to pad a twenty-minute movie into a space four times greater than that.  There are countless shots of the killer walking around her house, trying to see her through the windows, to taunt her some more.  Only, these pack no suspense whatsoever, because he clearly states at the beginning that he won’t come in there until she wants to die.  Now, this could have been a nice little lie that could have lead to some suspense, if all of a sudden she looked and the door was open and he was somewhere inside, but it's pretty obvious from the way he keeps pacing around outside that he's that one rare killer who's a man of his word.  Since there’s no direct threat of him entering the house, which seems to be made up of 90% windows, then that pretty much removes a very large dose of tension.

Maddie also happens to be completely oblivious to common sense: if you are deaf and under attack, I would think logic would dictate that you stay in a room with as few windows, and ways to gain entrance, as possible.  So her first thought is to stay on the first floor, in a bedroom with two windows, and sit between the two windows facing the bedroom door.  Gee, I don’t know how that could go wrong.  In no time at all she’s lured out by the killer using her dead friend to knock on the window, something she doesn’t have to acknowledge or answer, but of course does.  It’s literally not until about half-hour into the confrontation that Maddie seems to even remember that she has an upstairs flat; there’s only one way in from the inside (walking up the steps) and the only way in from the killer’s perspective would require him to climb up to the roof and break a window.  But instead of wisely arming herself with a sharp object and guarding the two entrances, she makes another genius decision: climb out the upstairs window herself, and walk around on the roof, where one misstep would clearly cost her her life.  She tries creating a diversion by throwing her flashlight into the woods.  The killer hears the flashlight land, sees it shining on the ground, obviously not being manned by anyone, and clearly having been thrown there by someone desperately trying to escape, and still goes to check it out.  Jesus, it’s like Dumb & Dumber in horror form.

In another case of blind stupidity, the killer sees Maddie on the roof, climbs up to get her, and somehow doesn’t even brace for the possibility that she’s waiting to attack him when he reaches the top rung.  Because, you know, people on ladders aren’t vulnerable in the least.  So it completely catches him off guard when she hits him in the face with a blunt object, sending him falling to the ground below.  Come on there, menacing killer, that’s some Home Alone shit right there, and probably the first thing you should plan for when climbing up anything to confront someone desperate for survival.

What attracted me to this was the assurance that it tramples over well-worn home-invasion stereotypes; it doesn’t even have the intelligence (or gall) to do that.  There are brief snippets where the sound cuts out for a few seconds—obviously so that we can hear what she hears—but it’s only a few times during the whole movie, and only once during the “attack”.  How hard would it have been to show some scenes from her POV, complete with the sound removed?  That wouldn’t have added anything to the budget, and would have instantly established a claustrophobic atmosphere, while giving us a specific example of just how detrimental her lack of hearing is, and how much more difficult it makes her situation.  Truthfully, there were any number of ways that the filmmakers could have really toyed with either her handicap, or the whole tired home-invasion idea, but they seem dedicated to following the path well-traveled, delivering a film that has the appearance of wanting to try something new, without actually doing it.

I'm not even going to get myself started on the ending, which is so laughably atrocious that it defies all logic.  I really can't mention anything without giving it away, but the difficulties a fully-grown, relatively healthy, and mentally capable adult male has in dispatching a weak female who is slowly bleeding to death, is truly mind-boggling.  If I'm coming off as misogynistic, I'm really not meaning to be: I literally mean the woman is so bad-off that just looking at her wrong could kill her, and yet this injured-yet-able-bodied adult male, with the full ability to move and carry things, basically has to go out of his way to give her a fighting chance, and does so, to infuriating results.

To try to end this on a somewhat positive note, it's competently made, and the acting is okay.  I mean, as with a lot of such films, "acting" boils down to simply crying for long stretches (the victim), and taunting said crying girl (the killer), but both leads are at least adept at sticking to their established roles.  And hey, in a movie this bad, even something mediocre is a resounding win!

If you like your horror movies to be slow, predictable slogs through genre conventions, then set aside some time for Hush.  If you want something more than that, I can only apologize on its behalf.

RECAP: Hush is nothing more than overhyped trash; the cat-and-mouse game that comprises most of the narrative is a wash thanks to the stupidity of the two main characters, who frequently make such ignorant decisions, you would swear they were suicidal.  This basically plays out like a twenty-minute short blown up to four times that size; it feels like it was padded with endless shots of the killer walking around the house, and constantly looking into windows.  Don't be surprised if, by the end, you're torn between who you think deserves to die more: the killer, because he blows trillions of chances to finish off his victim, or the deaf woman, because her death would serve as the immediate end to the movie, and thus, your suffering.

RATING: 2/10    

TRAILER

Cop Rock S1, E7: Cop-a-Felliac

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
Jeffrey Alan Chandler as Ray Rodbart
Teri Austin as Trish Vaughn

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

Directed by: Arlene Sanford

Once again we have a lot on the docket in this week’s episode of “Cop Rock”, and no time for formalities, so let’s get going right away.

It starts in a meeting room, something we haven’t seen too often in this show, if at all before.  This intro was actually the best one yet, with the lead officer (haven’t seen him before, to my knowledge, and couldn’t locate him in the credits; he might be Mike Finnegan, playing a Lt. Kellogg) running through a list of all the current topics.  The sequence is lighthearted, and overall pretty dumb, but it exhibits a playfulness that tends to be sorely missing from many of the episodes up through this point.  But, as is required, it’s pretty much ruined when he breaks into song, singing “Let’s Be Careful Out There”, which is obviously about the perils they face on a nightly basis.

"LET'S BE CAREFUL OUT THERE"

I’ve mentioned this many times before, but I’m going to do it again: Randy Newman’s theme song is godawful.  It’s really a piece of garbage masquerading as music, and it becomes an even greater annoyance given the show’s formula of always having a song before the opening credits.  This means we’re always bombarded with two back-to-back songs, one from the show, which then leads right into Newman’s staggeringly awful theme song attempt that, may I remind you lest you forget about the incompetence of the selection process behind major award shows, won a fucking Emmy.  Gimme a break.

The show finally steps up to deal with some real heavy-hitting issues here, and no I’m not being facetious: Right from the outset, we get Donnie Potts going to his captain with a newspaper clipping with the headline “LaRusso Partner to Testify”.  Next to that, Potts’ photo is “X”-ed out in red marker with the words “Die Nigger” scrawled underneath.  That’s some pretty hefty stuff for network television in the early ‘90s, so I kind of have to applaud it for that.  The captain assures Potts that they will guard his house around the clock to make sure nothing happens to him or his family, but things take a little racist turn when Potts points out the way he’s treated in the office, to which the captain responds: “Well that part we got to expect”, before telling him that he’s just “going to have to tough it out.”  I’m not going to hold the political-correctness against the show, though, simply because that may have been the mindset in the early ‘90s--hell, it's no doubt the same mindset even today.

This storyline comes to a head when two out of the three officers assigned to patrol Potts’ house leave to investigate a suspicious vehicle, and in that time whoever’s behind the threats has time to light a cross on fire on their lawn (the third officer is the one tasked with guarding the back, so he doesn't see the perpetrators).  Potts’ wife and kids come out on the lawn, followed up by all the other blacks in the neighborhood, as the wife sings “But It's Not Going to Happen Here”, a pretty effective song about racism that persists, but how they won’t let it get to them.  One of the better songs of the entire series so far, and one of the most powerful.

"BUT IT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN HERE"

To round out this section of the storyline, LaRusso hears about the threat to Potts and his family, and pays a visit to tell Potts that he’ll take care of anyone that threatens him.  Potts is not happy to hear this, though, (rightfully) claiming that LaRusso murdering Tyrone Powers is the thing that put a target on him in the first place.  LaRusso still sticks to his tough-guy shtick: when Potts asks him why in the world he would ever call him, LaRusso responds with, “Because you know I’m the only guy that will get things done,” before coolly walking off the way characters always do in movies when their words are supposed to stick with you.

Speaking of LaRusso, his storyline begins when he freely admits to his legal team that he killed Tyrone Powers without any cause whatsoever.  The only fallout from this, is that it turns on Trish Vaughn, the attorney that he’s banging, who comes onto him at a local bar, but who refuses to go home with him.  Something’s pretty fishy about this one, so we’ll see if she has some ulterior motives that will eventually come out in future episodes. (She does brutally turn down Officer Gaines, who asks her out, right before he loses his car in a 9-story parking garage and spends the whole time he’s looking singing a song about how nothing’s going right for him, which wins the prestigious “Most Pointless Scene of the Week” award).

Not dissuaded by his admittance in guilt, his legal team tries setting him up to be a hero, by staging an event that he would be in on, like stopping a robbery, or saving a child in a deep hole, that would get the public on his side.  He angrily turns down these options, but accepts an opportunity to speak to a gathering of bail bondsmen.  In a surprise, an all-girl band (named, and I am not kidding, “Brenda and the Bus Monsters”) opens for him, which I think was just a way for them to hit their five-song quota.  During his ensuing speech, he basically admits to murdering Tyrone Powers to the packed room, but their standing ovation clearly shows that he has their support.

"I'M OK" (complete w/ lyrics in description...they're kinda bad)

Meanwhile, the whole “love triangle” between Andy Campo, his partner Vicki Quinn, and her overweight, middle-aged husband (and forensic expert) Ralph Ruskin comes to a head.  You will remember that Quinn was shot while trying to diffuse a hostile situation at a bank, which Ralph blames Andy for allowing to happen.  Things don’t get any easier for him to take when he overhears Andy singing to her while she’s in the hospital, essentially about how much he loves her; not something that’s going to ease the mind of a jealous husband.

Well now is her first day back on the force after recovering from the injury, and Ralph is not happy about that.  So he does what any fellow cop would do, and follows them while they’re patrolling the streets on active duty.  When they stop at a hotel and enter a room, he panics, and as he goes to confront them, pulls out his gun before kicking the door in.  Of course, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess that they are merely on a call--one that apparently involves a dead man in a bra and women’s underwear (again, no joke), but a call nonetheless.  Furious, Quinn confronts him, to which he apologizes, while she assures him that she still loves him and that there’s nothing between her and Andy.  Ralph tells her that if she can look him in the eye and tell him that, he’ll believe her; she does, but he still accuses her of lying before storming off.  Well that’s not a good look there, Ralph.  Obviously, he’s doing more harm than good to the relationship, and will more than likely end up pushing her away.  I will say he does actually have something to worry about, because they do seem to be a little closer than just partners, but the show is probably allowing Ralph to ruin the relationship himself so that viewers can cheer Andy and Vicki finally getting together.

In the second bit of hard-hitting topics, Mayor Louise Plank is having a one-on-one meeting with her trusty assistant, Ray Rodbart.  Ray is turning in his resignation, because he has gotten word that a local reporter is going to write an article “outing” him as gay; Ray doesn’t want the potentially-negative publicity to affect his job, or Louise, and sees this as the only option.  Louise, however, won’t have any of it, claiming that she has his back and that they will go through whatever happens together.  This is one of the few scenes of the entire series that is genuinely strong, without any melodramatic overtones--it probably also helps that no song comes out of it.

Upset by the notion of this article, the Mayor arranges a meeting with Lyle Barry, the reporter breaking the story on Ray.  In a kind of surprising twist (at least to me), Lyle is gay himself, and so the article is not meant to be an attack on Ray, but rather an inspirational piece to show the gay community that there are plenty of other gay role models in the city.  Yet still, the fact that Ray doesn’t want to be “outed” is still a valid point of contention, and one that Louise uses to ask Lyle to leave him out of the story.  At first, Lyle is insistent on continuing with the article, at which point the Mayor reveals some dirty info she has on Mr. Barry: namely that his partner of eight years is an illegal immigrant with no green card.  Lyle accuses her of blackmail, to which she agrees that’s what it is, to which he stupidly retorts something along the lines of, “You have no right to dig up stuff about me,” leaving her wide open to declare that he also has no right to do the same to Ray.  This scene ratchets up the melodramatic quotient a little bit, but it’s still an effective scene, one that’s made even moreso when you realize that, in the early ‘90s when this show was released, gays weren’t nearly as accepted as they are now.  For the show to take a strong, pro-gay angle at that time was a pretty gutsy decision; the fact that the scenes are actually well done make them all the more effective.

I have to say that, while this episode still had its fair share of awful (the main culprits once again being, surprise!, the music), it’s been the closest thing we’ve seen yet to a step in the right direction.  The themes are getting meatier, by focusing on a couple that remain strong and relevant even today (racism and homophobia), and while the songs remain largely unnecessary and forgettable, the “Burning Cross” number is one of the best ones the show has produced.  Unlike most of the musical moments from the series, this one doesn’t seem to be forcing itself upon the viewer, instead letting the heavy message speak for itself.  Sure, the song doesn‘t really have much to say that you haven‘t heard before, but the minimalist music underneath is a smart decision, which allows the vocals and lyrics to take center stage, as they should.

To say that I’m looking forward to watching the next one is still a huge overstatement, but knowing that this show is actually capable of being even “average” is a small victory in and of itself.  Oh, and I have to admit that I have zero ideas what the title is a play-on-words for, so if anyone else might know, feel free to toss it out there and make me look stupid (hemophiliac comes to mind, but that's spelled very differently, and this episode has nothing to do with blood; searching "felliac" in Google comes up only with this episode title, so no help there, either).

EPISODE RATING: 5/10

FULL EPISODE

The Invitation (2015)

Director: Karyn Kusama
Writer(s): Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi
Starring: Logan Marshall-Green, Emayatzy Corinealdi, Michiel Huisman, and Tammy Blanchard

I stumbled on information for The Invitation at some point last year and had been waiting for it ever since; some early hype, coupled with an eerie, simple premise, is what sucked me in, but then I kind of forgot all about it in the intervening months.  Once I saw that it had come to VOD (video on-demand) services, I eagerly tracked it down.  Would I get that rare movie that lived up to its hype, or as the odds seem to favor, at least as far as I’m concerned, an overrated pile of garbage?  The answer with this one lies somewhere in the middle.

I have to begin this review with a rather bizarre disclaimer: I recently started taking Adderall for ADD.  I also happened to ingest some caffeine a couple of hours before sitting down to this viewing.  Me being sensitive to caffeine, and still getting used to the medicine made me a nervous, paranoid mess.  So am I confessing that I wasn’t in the right state of mind when watching The Invitation, thus nullifying the review?  That would depend on your interpretation, because the movie actually benefited from my fragile state-of-mind; as my wife (who, also as a disclaimer, is pregnant and hormonally imbalanced) railed against every stupid plot contrivance, or poorly-scripted moment, I was actually glued to the edge of my seat, wondering how it would all play out. And grip me this slow-burn horror film did, ironically up until the ending, when stuff actually starts happening; it is also at that point that this more-or-less becomes a formulaic “who will live and who will die” game that just isn’t very fun to play.

Will (Logan Marshall-Green) and his girlfriend Kira (Emayatzy Corinealdi) are on their way to the house of Will’s ex-wife, Eden (Tammy Blanchard).  The invitation is rather curious and comes out of nowhere for the couple, as Will has not seen Eden in over two years.  Making the situation even more intense is the unspeakable tragedy that befell the two ex-lovers shortly before they split: the death of their young son, Ty.  Both of them seem rather apprehensive of the celebration, but I suppose Will wants to go just to face down some of the demons of his past; things get off to a bad start when he hits a coyote on the way, and beats it with a tire iron to put it out of its misery (you can always rely on a horror film to feature an obvious case of foreshadowing).  Oh, and another little bit of weirdness: Eden still lives in the same house she shared with Will, and the same place that Ty met his premature end.

When they arrive, they find that they were not the only ones asked to attend: There’s Tommy and his partner Miguel, and then friends Ben, Claire, and Gina.  One of Gina’s friends, Choi (I thought they were saying “Troy” the whole time), is supposedly on his way, but since he always runs late, no one is concerned.  After meeting, or re-acquainting himself with all of the guests, the hosts make their first appearance: Along with Eden is David, a man whom she met while attending a session for grief counseling.  As David speaks to the gathered group of (former) friends, Will notices the figure of a woman staring at him from a bedroom.  This is Sadie, and she is either pretty clearly insane, or drugged; she met Eden and David while the two of them were on a retreat to Mexico, and moved in with them upon their return to the States.  Will seems a little thrown off by this, but no one else is; this is a reoccurring theme throughout.  Also making things weirder is the random inclusion of Pruitt, a creepy and quiet man that arrives late, and introduces himself as a friend of Eden and David.

As everyone starts getting settled in, David decides that’s the perfect time to play for them a video of a group that they joined, called “The Invitation”, that was designed to help victims of trauma heal through spiritualism.  Only, the video is of a dying woman being comforted by a man who has the appearance and mannerisms of a cult leader; the guests are disturbed when the woman dies onscreen, right before their very eyes.  A bunch of little things keep adding up: the game of “I Want” in which Pruitt reveals he murdered his wife in a drunken rage, David insisting on locking the door from the inside, the guest that demands to leave, only to be escorted out by Pruitt, and the list goes on and on.  Yet anytime Will, who is the only one alerted to the weirdness and escalating menace of the night, voices his opinions, the other one-dimensional characters try to allay his fears by blaming it on the emotions from his emotional trauma.  At first, it makes sense, but once it continues to happen as things are clearly going off the deep end, it just feels like a frequently-used (and increasingly frustrating) fallback option for writers Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi.

As I said, the film enthralled me until the very end, when all hell breaks loose and it basically becomes a typically-tepid exercise of “killers vs. main stars” with little in the way of intensity or excitement.  It’s just a parade of predictable violence; we know who will live and who’s expendable, and the film never has the guts to stray from that well-worn formula.  Then there’s the ending, which is beyond dumb.  It’s the kind of ending that you’re either going to love or hate; clearly, I hated it, to the point that it undid a lot of the goodwill the movie had managed to build up to that point.  For a movie that already requires its audience to suspend disbelief for most of its duration, throwing us an ending like this—one that is even more preposterous an idea than anything that came before it—is a pretty brave, albeit misguided, creative choice.

The performances are uniformly average for this kind of film, though I did think Logan Marshall-Green was fantastic as Will.  Part of this is by default: he’s the only good character that the screenwriters spend any amount of time fleshing out.  Whereas the others come off as cardboard cutouts that only serve to try to calm him (and, by extension, the audience) down and allay him of his ever-so-obvious suspicions, Will comes off as the perfect anti-horror film hero: he is always aware of his surroundings, not afraid to speak up, and able to defend himself when required.  Thus, he is the only one that’s ever required to emote; his anger and sorrow are palpable, without a single hint of cheesiness or artificiality.  It’s really a solid performance, especially considering the rather lukewarm material, and one of the big reasons the movie manages to work at all.

Despite its many, gaping flaws, which are becoming even more obvious to me as I type this up, I’m still recommending it, but with loads of caution.  No matter what I think now, it doesn’t change that I was genuinely enthralled while watching it, even as the twists and turns became stupider and stupider.  It asks a lot of its audience, but if you fit the bill--namely that you have no problems casting reality out the window and forgiving the actions of increasingly stupid characters, and you have the patience required of a movie that takes pride in slowly (SLOWLY) unfolding its story—then this just might be the film for you.  Although, now that I think about it, that ending might not be for anyone...

RECAP: As a disclaimer, I was hopped up on (legally prescribed) Adderall and caffeine (which I’m sensitive to) while watching this, and as a result, found myself as paranoid and nervous as the main character; the atmosphere slowly (SLOWLY) cultivates a growing feeling of dread, and every little added layer to the story got my heart racing a little bit more.  The main character, Will, is also well-written, and ably performed by Logan-Marshall Green.  However, as it rolls on, it keeps demanding more and more from the viewer to forgive its more glaring weaknesses, and then has the nerve to cap everything off with a groan-inducing ending that pretty much defies all logic.  The beginning and middle were tense and interesting enough for me to slightly recommend it, but you’ll be better served by toning down, if not flat-out ignoring, all the hype.

RATING: 6/10  

TRAILER

Cop Rock S1E6: Oil of Ol' Lay

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
Teri Austin as Trish Vaughn

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

Directed by: Michael Fresco

This episode begins with a “homeless sweep”, in which officers make a large group of homeless people pack up, and move to a nearby city.  In fact, as we learn later, that’s their only plan on dealing with the overpopulation of such people--the Captain refuses to do anything more than just flip them to a different precinct so that they become a “nuisance” for a different set of cops than his own.  Sometimes, it would seem, that “Cop Rock” actually gets something right; passing the buck always seems to be the way problems like this are handled.  It just happens to be a “plus”, I guess, that the mass-deported homeless sing a song about how they have “Nowhere to Go”.

After this, LaRusso meets with the attorney that he’s banging; she has just returned from a trip to New York, where she refused to let him accompany her.  She’s a free spirit and refuses to let anyone bog her down, but it seems as if this quality is foreign to LaRusso, who apparently gets any woman that he so desires.  The fact that she doesn't cower at his feet and is able to stand up to him seems to make him want her even more…I wouldn't be surprised if, down the road, we’re going to see them fall in love, because I think that’s what the writers are going for with this story?

But there’s more to this episode for LaRusso than just a love interest--he is also grilled by another attorney, Willa Thalen (or maybe Falen? Hard to decipher on network TV-quality audio, but either way, played by the great CCH Pounder*) who is merely attempting to see how suitable he is to take the witness stand for himself.  As is expected, he doesn’t just sit there and take her barbs, which at first seems to be a bad thing--except that attorney Sidney Weitz feels that, with a little advertising, they can make him into an American hero and get the public on his side, whether or not he ever takes the stand.

Meanwhile, Vicki and Andy, the two cops who are partners, head to a bank, where an angry customer seems to be boiling over.  At first, everyone is convinced the situation can be easily resolved by bank staff, until the unhinged old man pulls a gun out of his jacket, and ends up shooting Vicki in the thigh.  Andy immediately tackles the guy, and nothing further is ever mentioned about his fate.  But Ralph, the forensic expert and Vicki’s husband, is quick to cast the blame on Andy for allowing his wife to get shot.  His opinion certainly isn’t altered when he hears Andy singing (?) to Vicki in the hospital about how their relationship, as partners, is greater than friendship, and he essentially admits that he loves her.

YOU'RE MY PARTNER

Ralph lays low and doesn’t let Andy see him in the hospital, but he eventually does a little digging himself, breaking into the women’s locker room and gaining entry into Vicki’s personal locker, fully expecting to find proof of infidelity (women must not go in there very often, as it remains empty long enough for him to sing a song about why he‘s in there).  This whole side plot is also just the second time that Captain Hollander actually sounds like an intelligent human being, rather than a police show caricature: When Ralph tries bringing up his concerns that Andy was responsible for his wife’s shooting, the Captain is quick to shoot him down, saying none of the evidence supports that theory; for this reason, he shoots down Ralph’s request to find Vicki a different partner.  On the one hand, this kind of makes sense, but we’ll see what the implications are for the Captain, or even the whole department, if this partnership leads to something more.

“Cop Rock” seems to be desperate to offset the negative storylines, with in-your-face positive ones, and this time it comes courtesy of Officer Potts.  As you may remember, he’s the white cop that became Officer Rose’s partner following the shooting death of Rose’s previous one--of course, in that episode he hated Potts, but finally grew to like him.  In an extension of that plot, Potts starts caring for the plight of the homeless people that they are just driving out of the city, and offers to take one of them to lunch.  As usual, Rose chastises him for the idea, but even after the idea seems to fail, praises him for having a “good heart”.

While we’re at it, the lunch scene itself is rife with a number of errors and pointlessness, from the homeless man starting his order with a “small orange juice”, going into the food, and then the waitress asking if he “wants a drink with that.”  Or the fact that Potts leaves the restaurant before his food is even served…the whole scene just feels very fake, but I have to give it some marks for not having any of that god-awful singing or dancing that haunts my dreams.  I am kind of interested to see how this will impact Potts for the remainder of the series…since his attempt to “rehabilitate” a homeless man failed miserably (in a scene that’s actually pretty patronizing; all he does is tell the man to clean up and get a job) will he still be the same kind-hearted cop that he’s always been, or will this whole situation harden his heart a little bit?  Hard to say where this one is headed, if anywhere at all.

In the last bit we’ll touch upon, the police chief is starting to fall for the mayor, a plot point that has started developing ever since she had facial reconstruction surgery to make her not so ugly (?).  As is usual for television shows, Chief Kendrick asks his loyal black assistant Ozzie if he’s being foolish for falling for this woman.  Ozzie responds by starting a dance number about how he should follow his heart, or something.  I’m just guessing, because I’ve honestly started blocking a lot of these out; all the song numbers seem to do is just reinforced tired television tropes, but through song instead of normal dialogue.  No matter how you dress up predictability, it’s still predictable.

HOW TO LOVE A WOMAN

Meanwhile, the mayor is also questioning her decision to go on a date with this man.  This actually leads to one of the film’s rare genuinely funny moments: After the mayor asks her assistant if she looks good, he responds with how great she and her outfit looks.  When she responds with the requisite: “Are you lying?”, the man (who’s clearly gay, if that will make this funnier) looks at her and in all seriousness says, “I never lie about clothes”.  Maybe it’s just me, but it elicited an earnest chuckle from me, which is one of the few times in this series I’ve laughed at something that was actually supposed to be humorous.

The two end up going on a date out in the wilderness in front of a campfire, with the Chief singing a song utilizing his trusty guitar (the same one he used in the opening song a couple of episodes ago).  Before we know it, they’re kissing, and the mayor is asking him to take her virginity, something the Chief seems more than willing to do.  All I could help thinking during this is, “Why is the police chief doing everything except actual police-y things?”  Seriously, he’s always with the mayor and never actually tending to the needs of the police department, but maybe that will change in future eps.

Well, another episode down!  And the series is still struggling to find its footing.  Judging from its swift cancellation after just eleven episodes, I’m highly doubting that it ever does, but join us next week when I subject myself to additional cruel and unusual punishment, and absorb another episode so you lucky devils never have to!

EPISODE RATING: 3/10, which has become standard, more or less.

*And it's "Phelan". Close.

**The videos I was originally watching on YouTube were made private, but after some digging I found alternate copies.  Note that the quality seems much worse, and with the series coming to DVD next month (May), there's a chance these may get pulled down at any time.

FULL EPISODE

Assault on Precinct 13 (1976)

Director: John Carpenter
Writer(s): Carpenter
Starring: Austin Stoker, Darwin Joston, Laurie Zimmer, and Martin West

I discovered John Carpenter’s Assault on Precinct 13 a couple of decades ago—if I remember correctly, it was at a video shop in California, where my mother and I were visiting.  I’m not sure what exactly attracted me to this movie in particular, but I had always been into obscure and violent movies ever since I was allowed to watch them, and so this seemed to fit the bill.  I ended up buying a screener for it, complete with scrolling warnings not to copy the film that appeared every few minutes, on VHS for $1.

I watched it shortly thereafter, and was enthralled with the story from beginning to end.  It was this feeling of nostalgia that lead me to pop this movie in again one cold, winter night, just to see if the current experience of watching it lived up to my former memories.

The plot is supposedly (loosely) based on the classic John Wayne western Rio Bravo.  As with many films harboring the “classic” tag, I have not seen it; but the one film that this has always reminded me of is Night of the Living Dead, George A. Romero’s landmark zombie film.  That might sound crazy to you now, but the basic outline of both films are very similar: A group of survivors barricade themselves in a nearly-abandoned police station, instead of a house, and must fend off hordes of angry gang members, instead of bloodthirsty zombies.  Even Austin Stoker’s performance, as newly-crowned Lieutenant Ethan Bishop, is strongly reminiscent of Tony Todd’s in the seminal horror film.

Anyway, it’s Bishop’s first day out on the force, and the Captain has a special order for him—head to Precinct 9, Division 13 (odd title choice given these facts), an outdated police station that is in the process of slowly being relocated elsewhere in the city.  His job is merely to answer the phones and notify callers of the station’s impending move, until the morning, when the precinct’s electricity and phone lines will be turned off.  If only it were that easy.

Things are complicated from parallel actions that occurred as Bishop was on his way to the police station: A police ambush leaves several young gang members dead, an action that leads surviving members to take a blood oath to avenge their murders; in another, said gang members kill a little girl, whose father swears revenge, but must retreat to the police station after running out of ammo; in yet another bit of weird luck, a police transport vehicle, carrying a notorious Death Row inmate, along with a handful of other prisoners, must make an emergency stop when one of them gets seriously ill.

And so as night falls, and all of these random characters are getting settled in (along with Julie (Nancy Loomis) and Leigh (Laurie Zimmer), the station’s two secretaries), a seemingly endless group of armed thugs attack the police station, presumably to kill the father of the murdered girl, who killed one of their own.  Or maybe just to kill cops in general, to avenge the slaughtered gang members.  Whatever the reason, all you need to know is that people are out for vengeance against someone in that building, and will kill whoever gets in their way.

Clearly, this is an ambitious film, though its small budget occasionally sabotages the proceedings, mainly in the form of the uneven acting.  A popular case-in-point is Laurie Zimmer, whose filmography begins here and ended a mere three films later.  Though widely panned by internet critics, I actually thought her performance was pretty good—until she gets shot in the arm, merely winces, and then acts the rest of the film like she only received a papercut, as opposed to a chunk of hot metal traveling at a high rate of speed.  Really, though, I guess at least part of that falls on writer/director (and score writer, and editor) John Carpenter, who could have forced her to emote a bit more; maybe he was going for a "tough as nails" kind of woman, which would be admirable of him, but no matter who you are, taking a bullet to the arm is going to have you screaming like a baby.

Speaking of Carpenter, the editing and score are fairly lackluster, with some scenes going on far too long (including one in which thugs randomly fire into the police station for what feels like two minutes of actual screen time), and the music consisting of the same three cues over and over again.  It’s not that the music itself is bad (though it’s synth-heavy and dated), it’s just repetitive, without much variety at all.  

Continuity is also a major factor, with all sorts of obvious errors scattered throughout.  There are some lazily shot sequences that seem to forget the perspective of characters—for instance, a man’s daughter is shot several yards away from him, in broad daylight, out in the open, but even though he’s facing in her direction, he doesn’t see it happen.  A montage of dozens of gang members trying to gain access to the building by crawling through windows, only to be gunned down by the officers and prisoners trying to hold their ground, also goes on way too long, with little variations.  And wouldn’t the gang members learn to take a different way in, or to at least fire off a few rounds first before just trying to leap in?  I’d imagine the thirty dead bodies piling up in front of every window would be a clue that their techniques aren’t working, but the thugs seem to be unable, or unwilling, to change their gameplan, with results that border on self-parody.

Yet there’s still a genuine sense of dread and uneasiness that permeates almost every scene, especially when the prisoners are released--and given guns--in an effort to help the “good guys” hold the fort.  Then ammo starts running low, and the phones go out early, leaving them completely helpless to contact anyone else for help.  Really, the way all the events unfold somehow never feels tacky or forced, even as the coincidences keep piling up, while the film’s pacing is nearly perfect.  Whereas Carpenter’s direction is a little lackluster (though again, in his defense, a lot of it no doubt has to do with his lack of a budget), he certainly makes up for it with his writing, and clear vision.

If you’re looking for an intense actioner, and don’t mind obvious evidence of a low budget, then this one is worth checking out.

RECAP: It has flaws aplenty, ranging from uneven acting, to a repetitive score, and occasionally sloppy editing, but Assault on Precinct 13 is salvaged by some solid writing, and a genuinely intense atmosphere.  There is also a completely shocking scene that involves a little girl and an ice cream cone that will drop your jaw to the floor if you’re not expecting it (and that nearly lead to an “X” certification by the MPAA).  The action scenes are mostly one-note, often clumsily-staged, and can get monotonous, but there’s still enough action and atmosphere to carry this one across the finish line.  Forget the overrated Halloween; this is early Carpenter’s swan song.

RATING: 7/10

TRAILER

Cop Rock S1E5: The Cocaine Mutiny

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
Kathleen Wilhoite as Patty Spence

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

Directed by: Arlene Sanford

Well would you look at that episode title?  What a lovely little pun!  Here we are back on the rough streets of LA, where anyone is prone to breaking out into song at any given time.  This formula has not worked at all in previous episodes, so there’s really no reason to believe that it’s going to start working here, but stranger things have happened, right?  Wrong.

In the last episode, we saw Patty Spence get locked away for admitting to selling her child for money.  This interrogation was set up by Officer Vicki Quinn as an attempt to help her get her life back on track, but the sleazy, gravel-voiced Captain John Hollander had other plans, and abruptly asked to have her arrested.  Vicki was hurt by this, and so was Patty, thinking that Vicki was the one that had her set-up.  Well, in a surprise turn of events, Hollander, who “made the mistake of bringing it up” to his wife one night, reverses his decision, instead believing that she deserves a second shot.

This change of heart is actually pretty refreshing, because up until now Hollander has been nothing but a poorly-written sonofabitch; here, for the first time ever, we see that there might actually be a kindhearted man buried somewhere, very deep, under his tough exterior.  While he’s the topic of the moment, I do want to mention his low-pitched, annoying voice.  If that’s actually the way his voice sounds in real life, then I give him a pass; but if he talks that way to give the illusion that his character is “cool” and “tough“, well it’s one of the biggest failures of a cop show that includes song numbers.  Every time he talks, it sounds like he’s trying so hard to convince viewers that he’s a no-nonsense macho-man that my wife and I automatically comment on how much we hate him.

Now back to the story: His suggestion to give Patty a second chance puts her in a courtroom, where she squares off against someone from Social Services, or some similar organization.  Of course, Patty defies the odds by giving a heartfelt speech to the judge, who decides to get her out of prison and give her full custody of her child after all!  Isn’t yawn-inducing predictability grand? (Actually, to the show’s credit, she surprisingly does not resort to singing…at least, during this scene.)

Introduced in this episode (as a one-off character, I believe), is none other than Gina Gershon, that hot, “star-of-the-moment” in the ‘90s, that was more or less quickly forgotten by the time the 2000s rolled around.  In this, which I would actually presume to be one of her first roles (sorry, a fever and general disinterest prevents me from diligently double-checking the information as I normally would), she plays an actress being relentlessly stalked by a superfan, who she fears will eventually cross the line into physical harm.  We are then subjected to a singing number from the fan, as he explains his obsession to us, complete with romantic sax music (?).

This brings me to another critique of “Cop Rock” and its song-and-dance format: It simply doesn’t understand who’s worthy of a musical number.  When the show is at its “peak”, a term here used loosely to mean “not cringe-inducingly embarrassing”, it’s because it picks a subject that can sustain song treatment.  For example, “He’s Guilty” from way back in the pilot.  That song managed to be effective because it was catchy, and because it was convincingly executed…having the jurors suddenly don gospel garb and sing backup, as silly as it sounds, is a damn inspired choice, and the whole thing is pulled off with brazen confidence.

The only problem is, it sometimes seems to get a little overconfident, forcing us to listen to terrible, misguided attempts to rationalize its worst characters.  We saw it a couple of episodes ago with the song “Baby Merchant”, in which a man who buys and sells babies (?) sings to a “prospective couple” (in this case a duo of undercover cops) about how they shouldn’t worry because he always comes through.  Here, we get a psychotic loner singing about his love for a woman that feels threatened by him and wishes he would just go away.  As with every other song in the show, it attempts to be earnest, to be straight-faced.  On the one hand, I kind of get the point: I think it‘s the show‘s attempt to wear its heart on its sleeve, so to speak, and to get the viewer to care for even the lowest of low-lifes.  But do they really think such connection with the audience is possible through poorly-written songs?  How else are we supposed to take this besides self-parody?  It’s just too ridiculous to work straight, something no one involved with the show seemed to understand at any point of its development cycle, and it‘s a big reason as to why the world of “Cop Rock“ is enmeshed in constant failure.

Anyway, we have to have this storyline spell potential trouble for the police department, so the actress asks out Detective Bob McIntyre, who agrees to go out on a dinner date with her.  But things quickly get dicey when the superfan decides to take his obsession to the next level, opting to deliver her flowers in person.  Even though Bob is there and about to apprehend the subject, the actress panics and shoots him dead.  As of this ep, all that signals was the end of the relationship, but it might come up to be a bigger deal down the road (if it doesn’t, it’s a rather pointless single-use storyline, as neither are charged for any criminal wrongdoing).

Meanwhile, Captain Hollander also gets to be the focal point of another storyline when an epidemic of cocaine use is running rampant throughout the city.  But these aren’t just low-income ghetto dwellers that are buying the stuff, but rather upper-class executives.  One of them just happens to be the assistant of a city councilman, who of course has the power to pass an important bill for police funding.  Reluctantly, they let him go, but once the same girl is captured again, Hollander decides to go against the grain and ignore the councilman’s pull.

Another side note on Hollander:  The show goes through such great lengths to paint him as a level-headed, honest cop that it’s honestly disgusting.  No one would ever behave like this, at least in the real world, circa 2016.  He’s already gone out of his way to convict a cop that murdered a known cop-killer, and now he’s attempting to fight a highly influential councilman?  Gag me out the door.  I guess we’re supposed to appreciate his ethics, but they just feel so unnatural that it’s just another reason that it’s impossible to take him, and by extension, this show, seriously.

In the last bit (I’m going wildly out of order here), LaRusso starts falling in love with his attorney, who plans a trip to New York--and refuses to let him come with her.  Is she hiding something?  Or is she simply the womanizing LaRusso in female form?  Either way, it’s obvious that he is not happy, as he even tries exerting some of his machismo on her, attempting to control her into submission.  But even that can’t break her.  It’s apparent that he’s not used to this kind of treatment from a woman…is he going to end up falling for her?  If he does, will she reciprocate it?  I kind of hope I don’t have to answer that question.

I think I’ve mentioned this before, and at the risk of sounding like a broken record, I’ll say it again: This show sucks.  It has gotten to the point that I can’t even force myself to watch it more than once a week; at this point, I’d be glad to quickly force down the rest all at once, the way you used to force down liquor when you were younger, just for the sake of getting drunk as fast as possible.  But I honestly can’t do it…my heart sinks every time I’m faced with the prospect of sitting down to one of these, and my mind desperately searches for more important things that I have to do, just to get out of it.  Hopefully a future episode will change that, but I’m pretty sure we’re seeing the peak of the show, and getting an obvious glimpse as to why it was canceled.

EPISODE RATING: 3/10

FULL EPISODE