Ju-On (2000)

-Do you have a boyfriend?
-No.
-Oh! How boring!

That's prime fucking character development right there.

Okay, it's almost like I can't rip on it too much. Ju-on is like the autistic kid on the playground who plays with spiders and shits in his pants, and you can't help but feel sorry for him. So you try to be nice and all, but he'd rather just keep on playing with spiders and shitting in his pants, so you just let him be.

The original two movies were made for television, so they're obviously low budget. Both Ju-On and Ju-On: The Grudge turned out to hit lower than my already low expectations. In Ju-On, characters are given very little exposition before they get killed. And that makes it pretty difficult to care about what happens to them.

If you've seen the American remake, you pretty much get the idea of the plot. There's a cursed house. Ghosts come out of the attic or down the stairs and make super scary croaking noises. Everybody who enters the house gets killed. No exceptions.

The remake, however, was based on the sequel to the J-horror film. I was told that the original was much better. Well, uh. J-horror's pretty cool and all, but like all horror film industries, not all ideas are good. Or worth watching. And I guess that's really all I can say about it.

My favorite part of the whole movie was close to the end, when a male character was being attacked by a moving trash bag with a corpse in it, and a resident of the neighborhood it was being filmed in began walking his dog. And although he could probably see the event occurring in front of him, he chose not to react or get out of the shot or do anything. Like trash bags attack people in Japan daily. But when a hungry trash bag starts coming after strangers on the street, the Japanese government seem to advise their citizens to do nothing about it and let nature take its course. It's obviously a problem that Takashi Shimizu smartly includes in his movie to provoke us. We should start helping one another, and maybe we can prevent unfortunate trash bag attacks.

No glot, c'lom Fliday!

I was originally going to try writing this like William S. Burroughs. However, I think after the third or fourth scene where me and some broad rape an Arab kid and then break his neck, you'd probably stop taking me seriously.

Removing all the strange snuff-pornography ripped from Marquis de Sade and all the explanations of how homosexuality is somehow the best disguise for a secret agent may have actually made one of the best Cronenberg films ever made.

I always had a soft spot for Cronenberg, to be honest. He somehow makes movies that always entertain me, even though I can tell that they are usually of no better quality than any other run of the mill horror film. But he has such a nice way of portraying crazy people, like in Spider, or stuff that makes us squirm, like in The Fly. In this moviefilm he uses both of them, and it's a pretty fuck yes combination.

See, uh, Naked Lunch is an adaptation from a novel that doesn't make any sense at all, although what you can glean from it can either be disgusting in an awesome way, or disgusting in a disgusting way. The film, however, uses both Naked Lunch and real events from Burroughs' life in order to make something vaguely coherent. It's tough, because it still doesn't make a whole lot of sense and rarely tries to explain itself. So I'm going to try to explain it as best as I can.

RoboCop plays an exterminator who also has the distinction of being William Burroughs in a self-insert role. Basically, when he's at work one day, he realizes that he's out of bug-killing powder even though he's not supposed to run out. Turns out that when he comes home, his wife who also has the distinction of being William Burroughs' wife Joan, likes to inject bug-powder into her breasts. It makes her "feel like Kafka", which is one of many lines that don't make any sense at all.

Anyway, RoboCop hangs out with some beat poet jerkoffs who have the distinction of being Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg because RoboCop is also a beat poet jerkoff, although for the sake of the movie he claims that he's been "over" writing since he was ten. Regardless, these two characters pretty much do nothing of note in the movie, except fuck his wife in front of him while Ginsberg reads poetry and hits on poor Billy Burroughs.

Meanwhile, RoboCop's been shooting the powder up too. One day he gets caught by two typical noir-film flatfeet, who proceed to question him like they're going to kill him, although suddenly they whip out a box with a giant bug inside, and leave RoboCop with it. The bug then starts bathing in powder and talking to him, telling him that he must kill his wife, and that he must "do it real tasty".

The movie begins to make even less sense after this, but in a way that is worth all 120 orgasmic minutes. There are giant bugs that transform into typewriters, typewriters that transform into abortions, typewriters that transform into giant bugs and abortions that eat each other, giant aliens with dripping penises on their foreheads, and a man struggling with his homosexuality while the world around him is filled with nightmarish homoeroticism typically witnessed in Aphotica K. Lector's subconscious. And a classic story about a talking anus. And Ian Holm as a tiny dapper fag.

Go in with the expectation that you will likely feel a little nauseous and very confused, and you won't be disappointed.

Cube

This film is hard to review. I can't really tell if I love it, or hate it.
Let's start with how awesome the concept is. The concept is awesome. Fuck yes, I'd rate the concept. You take a handful of people, and you lock them in a giant puzzle. And none of them has any idea why they're there, or how they got there. I don't know why, but I'm a sucker for shit like this. Particularly when you're just as clueless as the characters in the film.
On each side of the rooms, there's a door. Through each door is a room of a different color. The camera never leaves the puzzle. This type of movie tends to make me wet, and I don't know why.
Okay, so there are problems with this movie. A lot of problems with this movie. Problems with this movie that shouldn't be problems with this movie. It's kind of like Dark City, in that, the concept and what they're going for is awesome, but the delivery fails to amaze me. Of course, the difference between this and Dark City, is that I saw this when I was nine, and Dark City ten years later, when I was much harsher a critic.
The mathematics of the film. They make no sense. Which is bullshit, because it's a driving force in solving the puzzle. The numbers by the doors are supposed to create a map of sorts of the puzzle, telling them which rooms are trapped and which rooms are safe. And where the exit might be. And, again, it makes no sense.
They were going the right direction with the characters. They fight and try to fuck each other over. I'm not sure if it's the acting, the dialogue, or a lack of specific characterization that bothers me about them. Maybe a mixture of all of it. But even though they're headed in the right direction, it still manages to fail.

I want to like this movie, just like I want to like Dark City. Though, this one's by far easier to accept, and it might be because I first saw it ten years ago, and liked it a lot.

But, shit. I dunno. It could be a piece of shit. It could be a great film. I feel like they should have tried harder.

Silent Hill (06)

Roger Avary has worked on a few movies that I've enjoyed. Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs. Wait, those were Tarantino movies for the most part. Oh hey Mikey, he also did The Rules of Attraction. Wait, that was a pretty damn plain adaptation of the Ellis novel. So I guess he's the kind of scriptwriter who needs help when it comes to writing his scripts.

Silent Hill, no exception. The characters run around acting like little kids playing imagination games. "Bar the door!" "I'll bar the door!" "Get the bar!" "I'm getting it I'm getting it!" "Here use this rope to get around these things! That was really dangerous!" In fact, it's pretty hard not to imagine them all as little kids playing some kind of game in a park. "You have to go do these tests or else I'll burn you at the stake! They're the witches!" "Burn the witch! Burn the witch!"

If you're familiar with the games, you'll recognize the story. This time the part of Harry Mason is played by a woman. So anyway Harrietta Mason has this adopted daughter and drives her in a car near the abandoned town of Silent Hill for whatever reason and there's a girl in the middle of the road and they attempt to not hit her and they turn the car off the road and crash and Harrietta wakes up all alone in an abandoned town. Furthermore, suddenly and for no reason these air raid sirens start blaring, the world turns grey and shit, and all these monsters appear from nowhere. And they even give Radha Mitchell a flashlight, just for shits and giggles.

There's lots of things I like about this movie which should make it great. The fact that he has it set in a town ravaged by a coal fire. That is sexy. Not enough people know about coal fires. I like coal fires. I like abandoned towns. I like air raid sirens. I like Silent Hill, too. It's just that even though these ideas are great, they're not enough for me. No part of the whole movie was I actually scared. Not one part. This is in high contrast to the games where I'd pussy out like crazy. But this was just exactly the opposite. There was not one part where I was remotely scared. I have never felt this way about a horror movie before, but I think it could've benefited from a few cheap fucking scares. Even with the long drawn out scenes where monsters would drag themselves across the floor spewing pus and acid, I was too busy wincing at Pyramid Head to notice.

Again. Pyramid Head. Pyramid Head for no reason. No reason at all.

Avary planned to make a sequel, but then he got drunk and killed someone in a car accident. So now he's in jail. I'm not sure where I was going with this. I'm drunk too. Moral is, kids: don't get drunk and kill people, or else you won't ever be able to make shitty movies like Mr. Avary.

Inception

CHRISTOPHER NOLAN
Man, I really am sorry about Batman Begins.

CAMERON SHEA
Fuck you, du. That movie sucked so much ass. What the fuck happened to you?

CHRISTOPHER NOLAN
I did make The Prestige since then. And The Dark Knight.

CAMERON SHEA
I'm sorry, Nolan. You'll have to do better than that.

CHRISTOPHER NOLAN
Okay, okay. Check this movie out. It stars Leonardo DiCaprio.

CAMERON SHEA
Are you fucking kidding me? That guy couldn't act his way out of a nutsack. What the fuck are you trying to pull?

CHRISTOPHER NOLAN
Just shut the fuck up and watch it, you pessimist.

CAMERON SHEA
Okay, okay. Lessee, here.

*148 minutes later*

CAMERON SHEA
*cums* Fuck, man. I love blowjobs. This is the best you've done since Memento.

CHRISTOPHER NOALAN
I know you do, Cameron. I do, too.

CAMERON SHEA
Shit, du. I forgive you.




148 minutes of fuck yes.
FUCK YES.

ASS TO MOUTH. ASS TO MOUTH. ASS TO MOUTH.

"You thought it would be sexy, but you just can't seem to get that taste of shit out of your mouth."

Pretty much.

I'm a sucker for awful things. They make me laugh to no end. I know this. You know this.
I heard about this movie from Mikey Porter. He told me he wanted to review it, but never ended up getting around to it. Regardless, he figured it would be GodBox material.

So, I bite.

"What the fuck's a The Human Centipede?" I says, I says.

And he says, he says, "it's a movie about some guy who gets off to the idea of making a giant centipede out of people by sewing them ass to mouth. Ass to mouth. Ass to mouth." Or something like that.

I wuz wall like.

"Wut."

And he wuz all like.

"Jah."

So, I immediately downloaded it. I don't know what I was expecting, but I guess it was something along the lines of retarded violence, and something to laugh at while I intoxicate myself. And I, uh, guess I was kind of right? Kind of?

I'm not sure what you can expect from a movie like this. The movie first gives you a glimpse of the crazy doctor with the fetish. He captures a truck driver while he's taking a shit after touching himself to his picture of The Dog Centipede, which will probably end up being a prequel.

The film then cuts to these annoying girls. And I'm not generally annoyed by people in movies. The people who would annoy me the most in real life are generally my favorite characters. The bad acting, shrill voices and retarded nature of these girls will have you saying "I can't wait until your mouth is sewn to somebody's anus," before you make it ten minutes in. I assure you.

The thing about this film, is it doesn't really have anywhere to go. Once they're captured, it's decided that the trucker isn't a match. So, he is killed. He goes out and finds an azn, who doesn't speak his language. He just screams constantly in Japanese. Which is funny to me.

The procedure is explained. While the doctor puts the first two to sleep, the dumb bitch at the end attempts to escape for the first time in the two days she's been there. And guess what. It works. She runs away, then decides she needs to go back. Okay, smart. Instead of getting the cops over there as quickly as possible, she plans to go back in wearing nothing but a night gown, injured, to save her friend. Fuck the azn, by the way, he's on his own.

It isn't going to take a rocket scientist to tell you that this fails. Hard. And for insubordination, the bitch who tried to escape gets the middle, which, apparently is the worst position.

The humans are grafted together, and the doctor couldn't get any hornier when the frontman azn has to shit. Basically, he spends the rest of the film training the centipede like a dog, and trying to keep the cops away.

Does it work? Do you want to know? Do you even give a shit?

The ass end gets sick. Cops start hounding the doctor. The centipede is trying to escape. Confrontation. The azn frontman kills himself. The ass end dies of infection. The doctor and the cops kill each other.

And the dumb slut who could have escaped and saved everyone a lot of time and effort is left to silently consider this, sewn ass to mouth with two corpses.

I can't really imagine this piece of shit working out any other way.

Why did I watch this? Why did I write this? Because I'm a sick fuck? No. Blame Mikey Porter. Blame Mikey Porter and boo him.

Boooo, Mikey Porter. Boo.

Evelyn, Evelyn.

Back when I was thirteen, someone I was once friends with recommended I read a book series. This is back when AR was a factor in my life, and well, I figured why the fuck not. The book series was called A Series of Unfortunate Events, which would later spawn a godawful film that we won't discuss, and I'll pretend never existed.
Anyway, I never finished the book series. I got maybe ten books in and went to high school and forgot all about it.
Why is this relevant?
Simple, Watson. This series had a unique feel to it. The most horrible things would happen in such silly ways that it brought me a very unique kind of joy. One that I haven't experienced since then. Until now.

That isn't to say that I feel as though this was ripped off, or even inspired. However, they both have a really unique quality that greatly appeals to me. And makes me cum in my pants.

Amanda Palmer is a g. I'm just going to say it.

I would rate this album a Fuck Yes.

Smile for the camera, Evelyn.