I say we leave the Gulf Coast destroyed and film a bunch of post-apocalypse movies down there. Or better yet post-apocalypse documentaries. I want to see people in dune-buggies attacking tanker-trucks filled with drinking water. But for real, not pretend. Oh wait, that's going to happen in 50 years anyway.
Right now there are 436 people per square kilometer of arable land in Algeria. In 55 years there will be 872 people per square kilometer. That's assuming that the amount of arable land stays the same in Algeria. But of course there will be less, becasue the Sahara Desert is growing and Algerians pollute the hell out of their water supplies. So it will probably be more like 1000-1500 people per square kilometer of arable land.
Then the wars for water start. Enter dune-buggies stage left.
Maybe we can poison Hugo Chavez and blame the Russians like we did all those other guys.
I want to know who killed Andreas Baader, Gudrin Ensslin, and Ulrike Meinhoff in their prison cells. I never bought that whole hid a gun in his record player for 2 years and then killed himself story.
I want to take Black Fatima out on a date. I want to buy her a new mink stoll and help her drug a few teenage Chechen girls into suicide bombers. I want to prove she doesn't exist. She really doesn't, the Russians made her up.
I want Russia to leave Chechnya alone. I want to visit Libya. I want to walk across the Sahara Desert and play Jarre's "Lawrence of Arabia" theme on my MP3 player when Cairo first comes into sight.
I want to work at a think tank.
Originally posted on December 1, 2006 on Myspace.
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Praire Harsh Companion - yet another rant
You know what? Fuck "Prairie Home Companion".
There is a scene in "Harsh Times" (it's a throw-away that doesn't ruin anything to tell it) where Bale's character is drinking beer with two of his friends and he talks about wanting to mow down villagers with the door-gun of a chopper. He wants to kill them, their children, their animals, pets. It's fucked up. And yet is it over-the-top ham-fisted screen-writing as Ayer is being accused of by movie critics? No it isn't. It is honest. I've been in conversations with guys that are that fucked up, and worse.
But these reviewers who have been eulogizing Robert Altman all day and night lambast Ayer for exposing such ugliness. Just because it is an ugly truth doesn't make it less true. Where is the dedication to art these days? Honest, brutal art. I can understand not recommending it to those with weaker stomachs, but to tear the movie down is just wrong.
Meanwhile these same reviewers talk about how genius Altman was in MASH when he "proved a Korean War field hospital could make us laugh" (NBC World News).
I don't know what is more disgusting. Bale openly discussing the murder of villagers, or NBC News reminding us how funny the Korean War was.
Maybe it comes down to different strokes for different folks. Maybe some people don't want to know how fucked our culture is and would rather pull the warm, fuzzy blanket of "Prairie Home Companion" over their eyes.
Of course all of these Altman loving 'sophisticates' probably think they are great patrons of the arts for loving "Godsford Park" and 'getting' "The Player" but in reality these movies are merely distraction and don't really expose anything or inspire any thought at all.
Escapism has its place. I mean hell, look whose talking here - Mike "Diehard" Darpino. But art has its place too, and it pisses me off when it gets over-looked and even more so when there is open hostility towards it - such as in the case of "Harsh Times".
Hollywood really gave itself a big pat on the back last year for recognizing "Crash" at the Oscars but it is sad to me that less than a year later they are abandoning movies like "Harsh Times", a movie that examines the dichotomies of society even further than "Crash" did.
Sure escapism has its place, but escapism is a dime a dozen at the cinema. Art is few and far between these days and should be celebrated rather than attacked. But then I guess America is in attack mode in every arena these days.
Originally posted on November 22, 2006 on Myspace.
There is a scene in "Harsh Times" (it's a throw-away that doesn't ruin anything to tell it) where Bale's character is drinking beer with two of his friends and he talks about wanting to mow down villagers with the door-gun of a chopper. He wants to kill them, their children, their animals, pets. It's fucked up. And yet is it over-the-top ham-fisted screen-writing as Ayer is being accused of by movie critics? No it isn't. It is honest. I've been in conversations with guys that are that fucked up, and worse.
But these reviewers who have been eulogizing Robert Altman all day and night lambast Ayer for exposing such ugliness. Just because it is an ugly truth doesn't make it less true. Where is the dedication to art these days? Honest, brutal art. I can understand not recommending it to those with weaker stomachs, but to tear the movie down is just wrong.
Meanwhile these same reviewers talk about how genius Altman was in MASH when he "proved a Korean War field hospital could make us laugh" (NBC World News).
I don't know what is more disgusting. Bale openly discussing the murder of villagers, or NBC News reminding us how funny the Korean War was.
Maybe it comes down to different strokes for different folks. Maybe some people don't want to know how fucked our culture is and would rather pull the warm, fuzzy blanket of "Prairie Home Companion" over their eyes.
Of course all of these Altman loving 'sophisticates' probably think they are great patrons of the arts for loving "Godsford Park" and 'getting' "The Player" but in reality these movies are merely distraction and don't really expose anything or inspire any thought at all.
Escapism has its place. I mean hell, look whose talking here - Mike "Diehard" Darpino. But art has its place too, and it pisses me off when it gets over-looked and even more so when there is open hostility towards it - such as in the case of "Harsh Times".
Hollywood really gave itself a big pat on the back last year for recognizing "Crash" at the Oscars but it is sad to me that less than a year later they are abandoning movies like "Harsh Times", a movie that examines the dichotomies of society even further than "Crash" did.
Sure escapism has its place, but escapism is a dime a dozen at the cinema. Art is few and far between these days and should be celebrated rather than attacked. But then I guess America is in attack mode in every arena these days.
Originally posted on November 22, 2006 on Myspace.
[Horribly Lame Moanings of Artistic Angst]
I wish I had the guts to really live. I wish I wasn't programmed by this comfortable, modern life.
I wish I lived in 1928, I'd be in Texas with Jim Thompson running from gangsters.
Or in 1901, hanging underneath freight trains with Jack London.
Or in 1969, sipping whiskey in bombed out Irish hotel bars with Jack Higgins.
Or in 1936, freezing in a Spanish trench with Orwell waiting for an attack.
Or in 1934, watching bullfights with the Hemingway crowd.
Or in 1968, partying with Hell's Angels ala Hunter S.
All places and times I'd rather be. Sure, I fit in what adventuring I can. And I do a pretty good bit for my part. But I feel like there is less opportunity for adventure in the world today. And of course, I am trapped by the illusion that there is more to lose today then in years gone by.
Sometimes I wish I had the guts to risk it all.
Of course it is easy to make light of my own stories and experiences when comparing them to greatness. But as I sit here trying to write tonight, coming up with cliche after cliche, I wonder. When (if ever) will my greatness come?
Originally posted on November 3, 2006 on Myspace.
SIGH.
I wish I lived in 1928, I'd be in Texas with Jim Thompson running from gangsters.
Or in 1901, hanging underneath freight trains with Jack London.
Or in 1969, sipping whiskey in bombed out Irish hotel bars with Jack Higgins.
Or in 1936, freezing in a Spanish trench with Orwell waiting for an attack.
Or in 1934, watching bullfights with the Hemingway crowd.
Or in 1968, partying with Hell's Angels ala Hunter S.
All places and times I'd rather be. Sure, I fit in what adventuring I can. And I do a pretty good bit for my part. But I feel like there is less opportunity for adventure in the world today. And of course, I am trapped by the illusion that there is more to lose today then in years gone by.
Sometimes I wish I had the guts to risk it all.
Of course it is easy to make light of my own stories and experiences when comparing them to greatness. But as I sit here trying to write tonight, coming up with cliche after cliche, I wonder. When (if ever) will my greatness come?
Originally posted on November 3, 2006 on Myspace.
SIGH.
"Dharma for Darfur - A Rant" by: MHD
Restraint, constraint, straight-jacketed hollow-point pops into your brain through a fore-head dot India ink style while kiddies finger paint snot smears where mommy can't see and an old man strains to pea-brained scheme up a flag-pole, standing at attention with one hand on his heart and the other chokes life from a gold ingot being stolen Auric style - "No Mr. Bond I expect you to -
Dye your hair again it'll make you look younger generation weened on Dr. Phil meth-lab pseudo-science cooked up in a kitchen out of anti-depressants and ritalin riddling his brain pan fried and delicious can't find a fucking job in this townies messing with cadets school shooting bullshit train our kids to kill Ender's Game gone haywire to hotwire the General Lee for a joyride through movie remake mania as long as it's a high-def fifty-two inch ramrod up the ass like you're at Lexington and Concorde killing Redcoats for representative democracy and Republican Federalism and low-cost dvd's with special extra 2-disc bonus features that'll blow your mind and your dick...
...on this commentary track just keeps talking on and on about the fucking 3rd Best Boy and the Grip and that time they helped the Darfur refugees for twelve whole fucking hours so they could get the perfect shot at sunrise and how great it made them feel to hold that starved child's hand when the sounds of the blanks going off in Leo's AK scared her into thinking the fucking warlords were coming back to finish the job that killed her fucking mother and sister, grandfather and cousin.
But hey, that was one long day on location and this lame-ass fucking story on a 3rd Commentary audio option on the fucking Little Shop Of Horrors' 35th anniversary deluxxe dvd is more important to most of us than kiddie raping Congressmen and legal torture and the double-standard of female sex predators getting a slap on the wrist when they diddle a student driver run him off the fucking road I'm in a hurry here and now trying to breath life back into the comatosed consciousness that has a Ted Nugent stranglehold on this Desperate Housewives agenda item for our next meeting -
We need a show to make fat girls feel like they belong in this confusing culture of mixed message plane crash out your anger at the government shoot up a school little house on the prairie magic-time.
Gotta get the Laura Ingalls Wilder flowing, gotta get the Mork and Mindy going, gotta bring back Barney Miller, gotta make everyone feel warm inside, like they aren't the only ones who hate their lives, who work hard all day just to get shit from the kids and suicide bombs and stingrays jumping out of the water to over-throw the topsy-turvy world of man ruling stingray - they're taking it back like we should be - cover your heart and open your eyes.
Originally posted on October 20, 2006 on Myspace.
Dye your hair again it'll make you look younger generation weened on Dr. Phil meth-lab pseudo-science cooked up in a kitchen out of anti-depressants and ritalin riddling his brain pan fried and delicious can't find a fucking job in this townies messing with cadets school shooting bullshit train our kids to kill Ender's Game gone haywire to hotwire the General Lee for a joyride through movie remake mania as long as it's a high-def fifty-two inch ramrod up the ass like you're at Lexington and Concorde killing Redcoats for representative democracy and Republican Federalism and low-cost dvd's with special extra 2-disc bonus features that'll blow your mind and your dick...
...on this commentary track just keeps talking on and on about the fucking 3rd Best Boy and the Grip and that time they helped the Darfur refugees for twelve whole fucking hours so they could get the perfect shot at sunrise and how great it made them feel to hold that starved child's hand when the sounds of the blanks going off in Leo's AK scared her into thinking the fucking warlords were coming back to finish the job that killed her fucking mother and sister, grandfather and cousin.
But hey, that was one long day on location and this lame-ass fucking story on a 3rd Commentary audio option on the fucking Little Shop Of Horrors' 35th anniversary deluxxe dvd is more important to most of us than kiddie raping Congressmen and legal torture and the double-standard of female sex predators getting a slap on the wrist when they diddle a student driver run him off the fucking road I'm in a hurry here and now trying to breath life back into the comatosed consciousness that has a Ted Nugent stranglehold on this Desperate Housewives agenda item for our next meeting -
We need a show to make fat girls feel like they belong in this confusing culture of mixed message plane crash out your anger at the government shoot up a school little house on the prairie magic-time.
Gotta get the Laura Ingalls Wilder flowing, gotta get the Mork and Mindy going, gotta bring back Barney Miller, gotta make everyone feel warm inside, like they aren't the only ones who hate their lives, who work hard all day just to get shit from the kids and suicide bombs and stingrays jumping out of the water to over-throw the topsy-turvy world of man ruling stingray - they're taking it back like we should be - cover your heart and open your eyes.
Originally posted on October 20, 2006 on Myspace.
Ground Zero
NBC’s The Biggest Loser isn’t the only show in the new Fall line-up to diss DC. CBS’ new show Jericho, about surviving nuclear holocaust, has giving DC the rub as well. (Although considering the circumstances maybe that’s a good thing).
In a dramatic scene from last night’s episode a character marks, with red pins in a map, all the U.S. cities to be nuked in the attack. Somehow Washington DC doesn’t get a pin! That doesn’t make any sense at all. We get Atlanta and Denver nuked but not DC – what? The character’s hand even sweeps passed DC on the map – but no pin.
Granted a few pins get placed off-screen, and DC might be one of them, but if you were directing this scene – the big reveal that the US just got massively nuked – wouldn’t DC be one of the first cities to really ram it home to the audience that the U.S. is wiped out?
Originally published on September 28, 2006.
In a dramatic scene from last night’s episode a character marks, with red pins in a map, all the U.S. cities to be nuked in the attack. Somehow Washington DC doesn’t get a pin! That doesn’t make any sense at all. We get Atlanta and Denver nuked but not DC – what? The character’s hand even sweeps passed DC on the map – but no pin.
Granted a few pins get placed off-screen, and DC might be one of them, but if you were directing this scene – the big reveal that the US just got massively nuked – wouldn’t DC be one of the first cities to really ram it home to the audience that the U.S. is wiped out?
Originally published on September 28, 2006.
Mass Casualty
I went to see Tony Jaa in The Protector tonight.
Holy living hell.
The man is immortal. I mean Ong Bak was a decent movie with pretty mind-blowing low-budget action. But in The Protector - the man takes it to another level. He is the Bruce Lee of the modern age - there is no question about it now.
As a film the movie itself is 80% good - even the elephants work somehow - you actually care about the elephants. Of course there is a little Asian movie weirdness - got to have a gang on roller blades or something to muck-it-up. But other than that slight awkwardness of that one skating gang (which has amazing action so I'm not complaining too much) and some bad editing in the beginning - the movie is martial arts gold.
Tony Jaa is the man - he is a human wrecking machine. Meaning he wrecks humans - that is all he does through the entire film - oh yeah that and yell "Where's my elephant?!"
What really puts Jaa on the map for me as possibly one of the best movie martial artists ever is the obligatory mass casualty scene. Jaa is no dodge 'em Jackie Chan type - he is a "kill every last muther in the room" type of mass fighter.
One man versus many - a ridiculously super-human number of foes.
The two that come to mind for comparison are Kill Bill 1 and The Chinese Connection.
The sword fight in Kill Bill 1 gets a lot of accolades as the best mass casualty fight in modern movies. I think that's a load of crap and I'll tell you why. Because of The Protector. Tony Jaa in this movie's mass fight scene makes Uma and her stunt double look like a pair of hobbled cows doing jumping-jacks in a field of cow-pies.
The mass fight in The Protector rivals the scene in The Chinese Connection when Bruce Lee takes on the dojo. I shit you not. The dojo scene in The Chinese Connection is arguably Bruce Lee's best mass casualty fight. To me it set the standard for one man against many and that standard has never been matched (See what I mean by watching the dojo fight here). Other movies have great mass fights - don't get me wrong (Streetfighter, several Jackie Chan movies, some Jet Li) but none come close to creating a new precedent for martial arts films. The Protector does.
Tony Jaa destroys about 40 guys. I mean really destroys them. It is exhilarating and gut-wrenching and it goes on for ever. I loved it. I cheered. The whole frigging crowd cheered and hollered and ohh-ed and ahh-ed. It was in-fucking-credible. Best mass fight (well ass-kicking really) in modern movies - bar-none.
Aside from the mass-casualty fight - Jaa is on fire through the rest of the movie as well. I can't believe how fast that guy is or how hard he hits.
Seriously - any of you martial arts flicks fans out there - get your ass to the theater to see this thing. The moves are too incredible to miss on the big screen.
Originally posted on September 21, 2006 on Myspace.
Holy living hell.
The man is immortal. I mean Ong Bak was a decent movie with pretty mind-blowing low-budget action. But in The Protector - the man takes it to another level. He is the Bruce Lee of the modern age - there is no question about it now.
As a film the movie itself is 80% good - even the elephants work somehow - you actually care about the elephants. Of course there is a little Asian movie weirdness - got to have a gang on roller blades or something to muck-it-up. But other than that slight awkwardness of that one skating gang (which has amazing action so I'm not complaining too much) and some bad editing in the beginning - the movie is martial arts gold.
Tony Jaa is the man - he is a human wrecking machine. Meaning he wrecks humans - that is all he does through the entire film - oh yeah that and yell "Where's my elephant?!"
What really puts Jaa on the map for me as possibly one of the best movie martial artists ever is the obligatory mass casualty scene. Jaa is no dodge 'em Jackie Chan type - he is a "kill every last muther in the room" type of mass fighter.
One man versus many - a ridiculously super-human number of foes.
The two that come to mind for comparison are Kill Bill 1 and The Chinese Connection.
The sword fight in Kill Bill 1 gets a lot of accolades as the best mass casualty fight in modern movies. I think that's a load of crap and I'll tell you why. Because of The Protector. Tony Jaa in this movie's mass fight scene makes Uma and her stunt double look like a pair of hobbled cows doing jumping-jacks in a field of cow-pies.
The mass fight in The Protector rivals the scene in The Chinese Connection when Bruce Lee takes on the dojo. I shit you not. The dojo scene in The Chinese Connection is arguably Bruce Lee's best mass casualty fight. To me it set the standard for one man against many and that standard has never been matched (See what I mean by watching the dojo fight here). Other movies have great mass fights - don't get me wrong (Streetfighter, several Jackie Chan movies, some Jet Li) but none come close to creating a new precedent for martial arts films. The Protector does.
Tony Jaa destroys about 40 guys. I mean really destroys them. It is exhilarating and gut-wrenching and it goes on for ever. I loved it. I cheered. The whole frigging crowd cheered and hollered and ohh-ed and ahh-ed. It was in-fucking-credible. Best mass fight (well ass-kicking really) in modern movies - bar-none.
Aside from the mass-casualty fight - Jaa is on fire through the rest of the movie as well. I can't believe how fast that guy is or how hard he hits.
Seriously - any of you martial arts flicks fans out there - get your ass to the theater to see this thing. The moves are too incredible to miss on the big screen.
Originally posted on September 21, 2006 on Myspace.
Mauled
I went to the mall tonight, Pentagon City Mall. I rarely go to the mall but after a heavy dose of 80′s nostalgia upon re-watching the immortal film Heathers and recently finishing the Tricia Sullivan novel Maul – in which a gang of Sailor Moon types run rampant in one with Uzis – I guess I got the subconscious hankering to subject myself to the shopping mall hustle-n-bustle that I loathe so much.
So tonight I went – in search of two things. A couple of everything dog’s at Frank-n-Stein and a few overpriced DVD’s at SunCoast Video. Much to my dismay both establishments are gone.
These store changes are probably old news to all you Mallrats reading out there, but I haven’t been to P.C. in over a year. SunCoast is now some kind of puzzle store – as in “we sell puzzles only” – which leaves me puzzled. Can a puzzle store really exist in Pentagon City? Isn’t there already a bitchin’ game store on the third level? Seems more like Landmark Mall fare to me.
Meanwhile Frank-n-Stein is now a mom-n-pop Texas BBQ place run by Koreans. Which I decided to try. Hoping for some kind of Austin Brisket/Pul-Kogi hybrid – I instead got a platter of mediocre fatty roast beef, dry rice, and drowned corn. Food received only after an ordering ordeal reminiscent of that russian roulette scene from Deer Hunter - with the gruff Korean granny shouting non-sensical orders at me, whilst the woman in line behind me is screaming for some “gawd-damned hot sauce”, and the grill chef is waving around a rib and laughing like he just poisoned Dr. Jones.
Now that SunCoast and Frank-n-Stein are gone I really don’t have any reason to return to Pentagon City Mall. And I can’t really say I’m going to miss it. This parting between me and the mall has been a long time coming.
I never forgave Pentagon City for kicking out The Wall music store – whose famous “replace any damaged album adorned with a Wall sticker” policy I never got to cash in on. I still have that scratched copy of Ministry’s Twitch and everytime I look at it, the now-defunct Wall sticker mocks me.
Then there was that time I almost died on a bench on the second floor of Pentagon City, when my mono fever dehydrated me so bad that I collapsed and laid there unconscious for who knows how long (I guess that one isn’t really the mall’s fault).
But the worst offense Pentagon City is guilty of – was closing the smelly old Loews Movie Theater. That old theater rocked the secret advanced screenings circuit. I got to see all the good ones there before their release. But alas no more. It was a gravy train with biscuits wheels and I guess it couldn’t last forever.
PS – to any Frank-n-Stein fans – you can still get your Frank’s fix down in L’Enfant Plaza if you don’t mind eating with the morlocks.
Originally published on September 20, 2006.
So tonight I went – in search of two things. A couple of everything dog’s at Frank-n-Stein and a few overpriced DVD’s at SunCoast Video. Much to my dismay both establishments are gone.
These store changes are probably old news to all you Mallrats reading out there, but I haven’t been to P.C. in over a year. SunCoast is now some kind of puzzle store – as in “we sell puzzles only” – which leaves me puzzled. Can a puzzle store really exist in Pentagon City? Isn’t there already a bitchin’ game store on the third level? Seems more like Landmark Mall fare to me.
Meanwhile Frank-n-Stein is now a mom-n-pop Texas BBQ place run by Koreans. Which I decided to try. Hoping for some kind of Austin Brisket/Pul-Kogi hybrid – I instead got a platter of mediocre fatty roast beef, dry rice, and drowned corn. Food received only after an ordering ordeal reminiscent of that russian roulette scene from Deer Hunter - with the gruff Korean granny shouting non-sensical orders at me, whilst the woman in line behind me is screaming for some “gawd-damned hot sauce”, and the grill chef is waving around a rib and laughing like he just poisoned Dr. Jones.
Now that SunCoast and Frank-n-Stein are gone I really don’t have any reason to return to Pentagon City Mall. And I can’t really say I’m going to miss it. This parting between me and the mall has been a long time coming.
I never forgave Pentagon City for kicking out The Wall music store – whose famous “replace any damaged album adorned with a Wall sticker” policy I never got to cash in on. I still have that scratched copy of Ministry’s Twitch and everytime I look at it, the now-defunct Wall sticker mocks me.
Then there was that time I almost died on a bench on the second floor of Pentagon City, when my mono fever dehydrated me so bad that I collapsed and laid there unconscious for who knows how long (I guess that one isn’t really the mall’s fault).
But the worst offense Pentagon City is guilty of – was closing the smelly old Loews Movie Theater. That old theater rocked the secret advanced screenings circuit. I got to see all the good ones there before their release. But alas no more. It was a gravy train with biscuits wheels and I guess it couldn’t last forever.
PS – to any Frank-n-Stein fans – you can still get your Frank’s fix down in L’Enfant Plaza if you don’t mind eating with the morlocks.
Originally published on September 20, 2006.
Last Day
"Live each day like it's your last day on earth" - you know that's a nice sentiment but really - c'mon. If I lived each day like it was my last on earth - I'd spend each day on a drunken killing and fucking rampage - or I'd spend each day sobbing my eyes out in the arms of my loved one - or I'd spend each day stockpiling supplies and building my awesome barricade to survive the coming holocaust - or I'd spend each day packing my bags for my long space voyage to my new homeworld, or I'd spend each day doing any other melodramatic thing to make my last day on earth worth more than all the days that came before it. If I lived my life by that motto I'd be a fucking crazy person!
"Live each day like it's your last day on earth" is bunk.
Originally posted on August 15, 2006 on Myspace.
"Live each day like it's your last day on earth" is bunk.
Originally posted on August 15, 2006 on Myspace.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Double Feature
So I had this bright idea to do a double feature today. Decided I would re-watch White Lightning- starring Burt Reynolds, followed by its sequel Gator - which I have never seen before.
White Lightning - is an early pre-mustache Burt Reynolds film that kicks all kinds of ass. Burt is a freaking bad-ass and actually acts really well in this flick (rather than just mugging for the camera and laughing like most of his 70's flicks). In fact I'd say this is Burt's best early role next to The Longest Yard. But it isn't just Burt that makes this flick so damn good. Ned Beatty plays the meanest, sweatiest, southern sheriff in film history here. Beatty's performance is so real and intimidating - well it is just Oscar-worthy. The score to White Lightning is a great 70's action score with hints of swamp guitar. The screenplay is on fire with some of the best country-fried but hard-boiled dialogue you're likely to find. But it is really the directing by Joseph Sargent that sells this movie for me. Sargent gives the swamps and country around them a 70's grit and realism that really makes you feel the southern heat and taste the moonshine. Sargent would later bring his eye for realism and detail to The Taking of Pelham 123 (a personal favorite of mine).
White Lightning kicks unholy ass - so imagine my surprise when the sequel Gator turned out to be one of the biggest turds of a movie I have ever watched.
Gator is directed by Burt Reynolds (there is your first warning, right?). The story takes place several years after Burt's character's adventure in the first film. In this one Gator has given up running moonshine in hot-rods, to simply brew it in the swamp with his dad and daughter. But of course the Feds come in and threaten to arrest Gator's dad unless Gator helps them clean up a county down in Florida that Gator's childhood friend is ruling over as crime boss. The premise is simple but okay - it is the execution and the bizarre 'sensitive' portrayal of Gator in this sequel that ruins it.
Reynold's plays Gator like he plays The Bandit and it annoys the hell out of me. Gator is a tough, no nonsense, ball of seething rage in the first movie. In the sequel he's a wuss - plain and simple. And he doesn't even get to drive a hot-rod! The movie seemed to avoid car chases at all costs. Which sucks. I don't want to see Gator sneaking around the town carrying an old lady's cat while she fumbles with the keys to the file room. I don't want half the movie dedicated to the New York Jew (fish out of water) Federal Agent. What the hell is that crap? And what's with Gator bedding down with the news-lady women's libber? That sucked! Gator actually almost cries at the end! WTF?
In the first flick Gator bangs his buddy's Mongoloid-Yet-Oddly-Seductive Swamp-Rat-Hoochie-Mama. And when the bad guys have the drop on him, Gator coaxes them into trying to rape her so as to mask his escape attempt. The Gator of White Lightning does not cry, he doesn't tell some upwardly mobile broad " he loves her". The real Gator breaks shotguns over bad guy's heads and kills them with his amazing driving skills and suped-up engines. In the sequel Gator runs from trouble every chance he gets - the White Lightning Gator was a man's man who met trouble head-on (nay he sought trouble out!). Where in development hell did this sequel derail? What the hell were they thinking when they made Gator a 'sensitive' type? Don't they realize no one fucking cares what Gator's favorite color is? Or his philosophy of the ocean? Seriously I kid you not - he talks about his philosophy of the ocean in this movie! I felt like screaming at the screen!
Ack, I am so fucking disappointed! Gator sucked and I will never watch it ever again! Don't waste your time on this piece of shit movie - just re-watch the original instead.
Originally posted on July 26, 2006 on Myspace.
I saw 'Gator' on television again recently (2010) and it is just as offensive to 'White Lightning' fans as ever!
White Lightning - is an early pre-mustache Burt Reynolds film that kicks all kinds of ass. Burt is a freaking bad-ass and actually acts really well in this flick (rather than just mugging for the camera and laughing like most of his 70's flicks). In fact I'd say this is Burt's best early role next to The Longest Yard. But it isn't just Burt that makes this flick so damn good. Ned Beatty plays the meanest, sweatiest, southern sheriff in film history here. Beatty's performance is so real and intimidating - well it is just Oscar-worthy. The score to White Lightning is a great 70's action score with hints of swamp guitar. The screenplay is on fire with some of the best country-fried but hard-boiled dialogue you're likely to find. But it is really the directing by Joseph Sargent that sells this movie for me. Sargent gives the swamps and country around them a 70's grit and realism that really makes you feel the southern heat and taste the moonshine. Sargent would later bring his eye for realism and detail to The Taking of Pelham 123 (a personal favorite of mine).
White Lightning kicks unholy ass - so imagine my surprise when the sequel Gator turned out to be one of the biggest turds of a movie I have ever watched.
Gator is directed by Burt Reynolds (there is your first warning, right?). The story takes place several years after Burt's character's adventure in the first film. In this one Gator has given up running moonshine in hot-rods, to simply brew it in the swamp with his dad and daughter. But of course the Feds come in and threaten to arrest Gator's dad unless Gator helps them clean up a county down in Florida that Gator's childhood friend is ruling over as crime boss. The premise is simple but okay - it is the execution and the bizarre 'sensitive' portrayal of Gator in this sequel that ruins it.
Reynold's plays Gator like he plays The Bandit and it annoys the hell out of me. Gator is a tough, no nonsense, ball of seething rage in the first movie. In the sequel he's a wuss - plain and simple. And he doesn't even get to drive a hot-rod! The movie seemed to avoid car chases at all costs. Which sucks. I don't want to see Gator sneaking around the town carrying an old lady's cat while she fumbles with the keys to the file room. I don't want half the movie dedicated to the New York Jew (fish out of water) Federal Agent. What the hell is that crap? And what's with Gator bedding down with the news-lady women's libber? That sucked! Gator actually almost cries at the end! WTF?
In the first flick Gator bangs his buddy's Mongoloid-Yet-Oddly-Seductive Swamp-Rat-Hoochie-Mama. And when the bad guys have the drop on him, Gator coaxes them into trying to rape her so as to mask his escape attempt. The Gator of White Lightning does not cry, he doesn't tell some upwardly mobile broad " he loves her". The real Gator breaks shotguns over bad guy's heads and kills them with his amazing driving skills and suped-up engines. In the sequel Gator runs from trouble every chance he gets - the White Lightning Gator was a man's man who met trouble head-on (nay he sought trouble out!). Where in development hell did this sequel derail? What the hell were they thinking when they made Gator a 'sensitive' type? Don't they realize no one fucking cares what Gator's favorite color is? Or his philosophy of the ocean? Seriously I kid you not - he talks about his philosophy of the ocean in this movie! I felt like screaming at the screen!
Ack, I am so fucking disappointed! Gator sucked and I will never watch it ever again! Don't waste your time on this piece of shit movie - just re-watch the original instead.
Originally posted on July 26, 2006 on Myspace.
I saw 'Gator' on television again recently (2010) and it is just as offensive to 'White Lightning' fans as ever!
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