Bitch Slap: A future cult favorite or a slap in the face to all low budget movies?
I should have been suspicious of this film when promotional material for it listed so many action verbs that it filled an entire paragraph. However, online reviews from the debut in New York seemed promising. One person compared it to Pulp Fiction. Since I’m partial to the genius of Quentin Tarantino I decided to give it a shot. Plus, the three babes that starred in the movie were going to personally introduce it at the Nu Art theater in West L.A., along with other members of the cast and production team.
Upon arrival at the second viewing of the night things still seemed hopeful. A throng of film buffs were gathered outside, some to see the film for the first time and others gathering to discuss what they had just seen. One patron mentioned that even though he had just stepped out of the film, he was going to buy tickets for the second showing and see it again. Okay, I thought, maybe there is something to this movie that promises girls, guns and action.
I was hoping for a meet and greet instead of the generic “Here’s our movie, hope you like it,” but was let down concerning this aspect. Apparently, the visiting cast would be in the lobby for awhile during the first part of the film to answer questions, take pictures and hang out, but this would defeat the whole point of going to see the movie. I would miss the set-up and not know what the plot was about. Upon reflection, I think I would have had more fun if I had hung out in the lobby and then gone home.
It is beyond my comprehension why no one told me the truth about this movie before I decided to sit down and watch it. The truth is this: it’s like a bad porno movie without the sex. It’s a movie that tries so hard to include everything that is “supposed” to be in a bad cult movie that it misses the point completely.
It’s true that there are a lot of scenes with scantily clad women, but they are inserted purely for the shock value and to draw an audience. There are a lot of slow-motion close-ups of breasts, butts and bodies, shown over a symphony of generic action music. There are also a lot of fight scenes, (mostly girl on girl), done “matrix” style. There are so many of them that they lose their value. I thought the movie was going to end about five times, but it keeps going. And the final “twist” at the end just leaves you going “WTF?” It has no point, no redeeming plot and was generally unbearable. I would rather watch a Girls Gone Wild video.
The plot is supposed to be a surprise; hence a lot of annoying flashbacks that occur randomly throughout the film and only serve to further confuse the viewer because they make no sense. To add to this absurdity, the flashbacks are provided “Memento” style, from most recent back to the beginning. The audience is expected to keep track of all of the “clues” concerning just how three chicks with barely any clothes on wound up in a desert to search for the “treasure.” Most of the flashbacks involve members of the cast set against an extremely low quality green screen of some gigantic proportion. My favorite part of this was when I learned that one of the women is named Secret Agent 69, as she supposedly skies down the Alps to avoid a raving bad guy.
Of course, there is the usual supporting cast: other rouges bent upon claiming the riches for themselves, the interfering but naïve police officer and the secret intelligence leader, (played by Kevin Sorbo). It is mentionable that Lucy Lawless also makes brief appearance. Aside from these two, I don’t believe there were any other actors, (or acting), of note in the entire film. By far the worst character was the random Japanese vixen; I am suspicious that she wasn’t even speaking a real language as she sliced things up with a bladed yo-yo.
I tried to laugh at some of the scenes, surely during a screening the people that made this movie had to realize how ridiculous it was. But I’m left to the conclusion that everyone involved took it way to seriously. It’s just one of those movies that tries too hard. I think the crew sat down with a checklist as they were filming: boobs, check; plenty of fight scenes, check; crazy weapons and the semblance of espionage and covert operations, check; and so on. I won’t say that no one should see this movie, but please don’t listen to any of the promotional hype surrounding what a great film it is: what you’re really in store for is a great heap of garbage that would make just about anything else seem Oscar-worthy. This movie is now my bar for the worst film in ever.
Showing posts with label Sex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sex. Show all posts
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
"Anitchrist:" Not What I Expected
My expectations were high for Lars van Trier’s “Antichrist.” Besides attracting recognition at numerous global film festivals, it also promised gruesome imagery of genital mutilation and madness. While these prerequisites were fulfilled, there was a certain comedic element to the film that was unexpected and refreshing. What I expected was a very serious movie that explored the deranged mind and that would leave my own mind reeling. The end result was something a little bit different. While this film is dark, fantastical and grotesque, it refuses to take the holier-than-thou stance of so many other horror movies. The comedic effects of this film are so shocking in their absurdity that they practically pull the viewer out of the story. Against the backdrop of this noir setting, it is like licking the sweet blood off of a rusty knife.
Besides the comedic nature of several sequences, (beginning mainly with the second half of the film), there are other elements that sever the audience from a direct relation to the film itself. The beginning and end sequences: both in black and white, slow motion and set to operatic vocals, provide an element of artistry and observation, not direct relation. Coming into a horror film, I expected to be subjected to brutal images of Nick falling to his death, but instead it is his teddy bear that we are forced to watch come apart at the joints. Clearly the audience is going to be drawn in slowly and stalked like an animal, before being pounced upon by the predator.
In direct opposition to the way certain elements of the film separate the viewer from the story; other scenes draw the viewer in for a closer look at certain elements of grief. It would seem a simple thing to cross a grassy patch of grass from one rock to another, but Gainesboug’s performance, along with visual and auditory punches, made the short journey wrought with the expectation of danger. Similarly, the sequences of hypnosis also draw the viewer into the fantastical landscape of the forest, allowing the viewer to feel the darkness pressing in, the danger of the old bridge, and the ghastly aspect of the tree stump rising out of the charred earth like a barbed phallus.
This film deals with many aspects of the hunt: Willem Dafoe’s character hunts unceasingly and methodically for a solution to his wife’s grief over the loss of their child. His coldness and calculations contrast harshly with her overwhelming scenes of despair and panic. While Charlotte Gainsboug definitely deserved her Best Actress award at the Cannes, set beside Defoe’s calm demeanor it only heightened the effect of her performance. It appears throughout most of the film that her reactions are simply due to her loss; however once her true nature is reveled one has to wonder just how many of her symptoms were a result of her obsessions and madness. Despite the fact that it is her husband’s idea to travel to Eden, it does seem like too convenient of a map to follow. During the final sequences, the literal hunt of Dafoe through the woods is a captivating and claustrophobic. In a fight or flight scenario, it seems that his only way to escape to is continue to hunt his wife’s mind, as flight in his hobbled condition is out of the question.
I wish that more time had been spent dwelling on the actual focus of She’s obsession that was sparked by her thesis paper on gynocide. While it is obvious that she became increasingly frantic while working on her paper and was thus unable to finish it, this plot point in the story is quickly followed by the torture and hunt scene. Once her husband has discovered the truth of her nature, evidenced by the pain she inflicted upon their son, She wastes no time turning the tables. He barely has time to put the pieces together before she begins trying to literally rip him apart.
In dealing with the gruesome imagery of the film, while there are some shocking scenes, they are certainly not meant to be the main focus of the story. I think it is allusions to these scenes in numerous reviews that place too much emphasis on them. While it is horrifying to see modern day torture done in medieval fashion, and it’s never fun to see a graphic representation of a clitoridectomy, these scenes alone certainly go nowhere near encompassing the actual main focus of the film’s themes.
The questions of how the madness and despair of outer nature relates to inner nature become apparent when He first broaches the idea about his wife’s greatest fears. Drawing a pyramid, he searches for the most feared thing, that elusive blank spot at the pinnacle. First “nature,” then “Satan,” and finally simply “me.” Upon arrival at the cabin, She warns her husband that “this can’t last forever.” She knew that her true nature would eventually be discovered, and that she would slowly slip into madness with each acorn, (or “soul”), that fell from the tree. In the same way that the forest suddenly gusted strong currents of wind, She relinquished herself suddenly to her own obsessions.
The trinity of the three beggars offers a roadmap of the couple’s descent into terror. Most importantly, the actual constellation from which this analogy originates is simply a figment of She’s imagination. Despite this myth, it is He who experiences the direct interaction with each beggar. It almost as if his wife’s belief in these creatures is so strong that they materialized out of thin air. While the image of the deer, (grief) greets him upon first arriving in the forest, it is the fox, (pain), who warns him of the pending doom. Finally, it is the crow, (despair), who turns him over to his would-be assassin. How ironic, that as She confidently predicts that once the three beggars arrive in unison one of them must die, it is her instead of her husband that is squeezed from the physical world.
Comically speaking, the theater audience Saturday night at the Nuart in Los Angeles was practically reeling when the fox spoke. Although it was gruesome to view an animal disemboweling itself, it was a breath of fresher air to hear it snarl “Chaos Reigns” as if a devil were living inside its soul. Later, when Dafoe’s character attacks the crow in the foxhole, he repeatedly pelts it in comedic fashion. Even though the situation is completely serious, as She is right in his tail, the action in this sequence carefully balances on the razor’s edge of horrorific and desperately funny. Similarly, when all three of the beggars appeared in the cabin during the end sequence, it seemed so whimsical that there were a scattering of snickers here as well. Not all audiences may have reacted this way, but I would say that this reaction only further served to endear one to the plot. This carefully crafted balance between fantasy and horror left me appalled but grinning.
Besides the comedic nature of several sequences, (beginning mainly with the second half of the film), there are other elements that sever the audience from a direct relation to the film itself. The beginning and end sequences: both in black and white, slow motion and set to operatic vocals, provide an element of artistry and observation, not direct relation. Coming into a horror film, I expected to be subjected to brutal images of Nick falling to his death, but instead it is his teddy bear that we are forced to watch come apart at the joints. Clearly the audience is going to be drawn in slowly and stalked like an animal, before being pounced upon by the predator.
In direct opposition to the way certain elements of the film separate the viewer from the story; other scenes draw the viewer in for a closer look at certain elements of grief. It would seem a simple thing to cross a grassy patch of grass from one rock to another, but Gainesboug’s performance, along with visual and auditory punches, made the short journey wrought with the expectation of danger. Similarly, the sequences of hypnosis also draw the viewer into the fantastical landscape of the forest, allowing the viewer to feel the darkness pressing in, the danger of the old bridge, and the ghastly aspect of the tree stump rising out of the charred earth like a barbed phallus.
This film deals with many aspects of the hunt: Willem Dafoe’s character hunts unceasingly and methodically for a solution to his wife’s grief over the loss of their child. His coldness and calculations contrast harshly with her overwhelming scenes of despair and panic. While Charlotte Gainsboug definitely deserved her Best Actress award at the Cannes, set beside Defoe’s calm demeanor it only heightened the effect of her performance. It appears throughout most of the film that her reactions are simply due to her loss; however once her true nature is reveled one has to wonder just how many of her symptoms were a result of her obsessions and madness. Despite the fact that it is her husband’s idea to travel to Eden, it does seem like too convenient of a map to follow. During the final sequences, the literal hunt of Dafoe through the woods is a captivating and claustrophobic. In a fight or flight scenario, it seems that his only way to escape to is continue to hunt his wife’s mind, as flight in his hobbled condition is out of the question.
I wish that more time had been spent dwelling on the actual focus of She’s obsession that was sparked by her thesis paper on gynocide. While it is obvious that she became increasingly frantic while working on her paper and was thus unable to finish it, this plot point in the story is quickly followed by the torture and hunt scene. Once her husband has discovered the truth of her nature, evidenced by the pain she inflicted upon their son, She wastes no time turning the tables. He barely has time to put the pieces together before she begins trying to literally rip him apart.
In dealing with the gruesome imagery of the film, while there are some shocking scenes, they are certainly not meant to be the main focus of the story. I think it is allusions to these scenes in numerous reviews that place too much emphasis on them. While it is horrifying to see modern day torture done in medieval fashion, and it’s never fun to see a graphic representation of a clitoridectomy, these scenes alone certainly go nowhere near encompassing the actual main focus of the film’s themes.
The questions of how the madness and despair of outer nature relates to inner nature become apparent when He first broaches the idea about his wife’s greatest fears. Drawing a pyramid, he searches for the most feared thing, that elusive blank spot at the pinnacle. First “nature,” then “Satan,” and finally simply “me.” Upon arrival at the cabin, She warns her husband that “this can’t last forever.” She knew that her true nature would eventually be discovered, and that she would slowly slip into madness with each acorn, (or “soul”), that fell from the tree. In the same way that the forest suddenly gusted strong currents of wind, She relinquished herself suddenly to her own obsessions.
The trinity of the three beggars offers a roadmap of the couple’s descent into terror. Most importantly, the actual constellation from which this analogy originates is simply a figment of She’s imagination. Despite this myth, it is He who experiences the direct interaction with each beggar. It almost as if his wife’s belief in these creatures is so strong that they materialized out of thin air. While the image of the deer, (grief) greets him upon first arriving in the forest, it is the fox, (pain), who warns him of the pending doom. Finally, it is the crow, (despair), who turns him over to his would-be assassin. How ironic, that as She confidently predicts that once the three beggars arrive in unison one of them must die, it is her instead of her husband that is squeezed from the physical world.
Comically speaking, the theater audience Saturday night at the Nuart in Los Angeles was practically reeling when the fox spoke. Although it was gruesome to view an animal disemboweling itself, it was a breath of fresher air to hear it snarl “Chaos Reigns” as if a devil were living inside its soul. Later, when Dafoe’s character attacks the crow in the foxhole, he repeatedly pelts it in comedic fashion. Even though the situation is completely serious, as She is right in his tail, the action in this sequence carefully balances on the razor’s edge of horrorific and desperately funny. Similarly, when all three of the beggars appeared in the cabin during the end sequence, it seemed so whimsical that there were a scattering of snickers here as well. Not all audiences may have reacted this way, but I would say that this reaction only further served to endear one to the plot. This carefully crafted balance between fantasy and horror left me appalled but grinning.
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