The Supreme Swordsman (1984)

Tagline: 99 have fallen. One remains.

Curiosity: It’s been a while since I really obsessed over a kung-fu movie, and I heard good things about the Shaw Brothers.

Plot: This guy with a mustache is trying to collect 100 swords. But instead of buying them, he wants to kill dudes and take their swords. He’s building a house out of swords, you see. But when he goes to collect on his one hundredth sword, he gets defeated by this other guy. Other Guy lets Mustache Guy live, but Mustache Guy is so pissed off about it, especially when he finds out that his sensei didn’t teach him a super secret black magic fighting move. So, Mustache Guy kills his sensei and some guy’s dad, stealing both the fighting move and the most amazing sword ever in the process. It’s up to Some Guy to beat Mustache Guy, to both avenge his father’s death and to end Mustache Guy’s reign of facial hairy terror.

Thoughts: Even though it’s only 100 minutes long, Supreme Swordsman is kind of awkward to watch. Part of that is because of the subtitles. There are plenty of weird word choices – people always refer to their elders as “senior,” for example. But the movie also just jumps off halfway through and starts up an entirely other movie.

Not to get all spoilery, but most of the movie is concerned with Mustache Guy’s rise to power and Some Guy’s quest for revenge. But when it segues into Some Guy’s training, it becomes all about his misadventures, in which he takes strange Chinese herbs and tries to save a lady and even goes to hell for a bit. It’s an entirely different movie, and while it’s more satisfying than a Western training montage would have been, it still comes out of nowhere and goes on a little too long.

Then again, I didn’t buy Supreme Swordsman for the plot. I wanted to see kung-fu ‘n’ sword fights, and I got both in abundance. While the choreography is a little too clean (I prefer the primal beat downs of Bruce Lee and Tony Jaa), it still satisfied my thirst for dude-smashin’.

Reflection: Holy shit, Shaw Brothers Studio put out so many kung-fu movies.

Drive, He Said (1971)

Tagline: The disenchantment of an all-American jock.

Curiosity: It sprang from the mind of Jack Nicholson after he knocked out the excellent films Easy Rider and Five Easy Pieces.

Plot: While star basketball player Hector (William Tepper) debates if he wants to A) play in the NBA and/or B) keeping getting freaky with his college professor’s wife Olive (Karen Black), his asshole roommate Gabriel (Michael Margotta) tries to dodge the draft. At various points, director Nicholson parades what he calls “a symphony of dicks.”

Thoughts: There were some great existentialist films from the ’70s, like Two-Lane Blacktop, Easy Rider, and Five Easy Pieces. While sparse in story, they captured a growing melancholy in the American consciousness, melded with a need to live in the now.

Drive, He Said is not that kind of movie, but it wants to be quiet badly. It tries to pose Big Life Questions, like “Why are we in Vietnam?” and “Why do we participate in consumerism?” Those questions are important, and still relevant in 2011, but since Gabriel the madman is the one posing them, they fall flat.

Gabriel is meant to represent the dark side of freedom, the unrepentant, angry, disaffected kind, and he does, but not the way filmmakers intended. Within the context of the story, he’s supposed to be a charming revolutionary who’s gonna rage against the man. His quest to fight the draft results in him munching psychotropic drugs in an attempt to be declared insane, which works, but it also causes him to sexually assault an unrelated character for no reason. The RAINN rep in me was repulsed by that scene, and all I could think was, “This guy’s a prick.” And he’s a prick through the whole got-damn movie. At no point does the movie offer any reason for anyone to like Gabriel, yet he scores loyal followers and sexual partners constantly. He’s meant to be a tragic character, but he’s so unlikable that my sympathy dissipates.

Same goes for Hector. Dude has an easy job, gets laid all the time, and whines about it. Sorry baby boomers, but thems first world problems.

Reflection: For a guy with that much body hair, you’d think Hector would be more thankful for the attention women give him.

The Adjustment Bureau (2011)

Tagline: Fight for your fate.

Curiosity: My fiancée has a crush on Emily Blunt.

Plot: A mysterious shadow agency tries to stop Matt Damon from fucking Emily Blunt.

Thoughts: It makes me feel good to know that my fiancée occasionally picks shitty movies too. She might question my taste and sanity, but she’s picked some clunkers just like me. The Adjustment Bureau is one of those clunkers. An adaptation of a Philip K. Dick story, the film’s sole saving grace is the chemistry between leads Damon and Blunt, by which I mean I could see Damon legitimately wanting to hump Blunt. The two show real fireworks, and I’m honestly not sure who’s more charming.

But the movie that’s built around them is lame-o. A secret organization called the Adjustment Bureau uses a guide for planning out all of civilization. While humans can control small decisions, like what to watch on TV, the big choices – who to marry, where to work – are handled by the Bureau. Free will, when it matters, does not exist in this society. And that’s a cool Orwellian sort of idea, except that it doesn’t add up to much here. For Damon, the tagline of fighting for one’s fate adds up to trying to get naked time with Blunt. That’s it.

Granted, the Adjustment Bureau doesn’t come off as nefarious, so it’s not like Damon’s character has much inkling to rage against the machine (That would probably reek too much of The Matrix anyway. Or maybe Robot Holocaust?). But the resulting plot of obtaining sloppy make-outs feels too small. The Bureau, in turn, feels too vaguely defined to build tension. They start off slightly intimidating, until you realize they’re a sci-fi riff on Judeo-Christian ideology. But I just didn’t feel like there was much at stake. The film also breaks an important science fiction rule: Never double up suspension of disbelief. I can accept that there’s a group who secretly controls the world. But they’re given a weakness near the end of the film that exists simply to create a happy ending. It smacks of bad writing.

Reflection: Emily Blunt does seem pretty cool though.

Head (1968)

Tagline: A movie for a turned-on audience!

Curiosity: It came with the “America Lost and Found” boxed set from The Criterion Collection.

Plot: I have no idea what’s going on, man.

Thoughts: Head is an important movie because of what happened after its release; namely, it set Jack Nicholson up for a role in break-out films like Easy Rider, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and Five Easy Pieces. He co-wrote and even briefly appeared in Head. The film also launched BBS, a pivotal production company if for no other reason than they made Easy Rider, which, for all the baby boomer bullshit that gets attached nowadays, is still a really, really good road movie. So yeah, let me just say that Head is an important movie.

But it sure isn’t a good one. Sheesh hoosafex, does this movie stink like butts on all fronts. It’s essentially a plotless 90-minutes in which The Monkees (Michael Nesmith, Peter Tork, Micky Dolenz, and Davy Jones) run around make absurdist statements and occasionally breaking into song. They show up in various situations (a Western, a war, a big black box, etc.) and crack wise, but it never adds up to anything coherent. It’s very psychedelic, but at 90 minutes, it’s a bit of a chore. And let me say, Easy Rider managed to be trippier with its acid sequence and tell a coherent story, however sparse.

Still, Head did make me laugh a few times. The opening scene, in which an official’s attempts to use a microphone result in a repetitious drone, was hilarious. Random oddball jokes scored a chuckle (Frank Zappa appears to remind Davy Jones about the need for artistic integrity, before walking off with a talking cow). I also like whenever the laughing giant guy shows up for no reason. The movie could’ve used more WTF moments like that, because as is, Head just isn’t something I see myself watching ever again. I’m not necessarily against movies steeped in drug culture, Head is just a complete mess. Rumor has it The Monkees made it to sabotage their goofy TV image. Well, mission accomplished.

Reflection: For a great movie-with-musicians, check out Two-Lane Blacktop instead.

Spy Game (2001)

Tagline: It’s not how you play the game. It’s how the game plays you.

Curiosity: My fiancée is all about Brad Pitt and, curiously, Robert Redford.

Plot: When secret agent Tom Bishop (Pitt) is captured trying to break out a woman from a Chinese prison, Washington goes poop-crazy. The only friend Tom has left is Nathan Muir (Redford). It’s his last day of on the force (ain’t that always the way?), but he’ll be darned if anybody is gonna mess with that handsome devil Tommy Bishop. Only thing is, Muir needs to trick his opponents in order to free Bishop. He’s gotta play the game. The SPY game, if you will.

The spy game involves sending in the Navy SEALs to fuck shit up [SPOILER ALERT].

Thoughts: What makes Spy Game so great is that it’s essentially two hours of Robert Redford being smarter than everyone ever. People will be all like, “Hey Robert Redford, your friend is totally gonna die and you can’t save him and also you have to retire, dick-butt.” And then Redford will say “Yeah, you’re right,” to their faces. But in his head he’s all “Shazam! I got this.”

…and that’s pretty much all that’s going on. We get a lot of weird backstory about Pitt and Redford meeting in Vietnam (the bulk of the story takes place in 1991, by the by), which is hilariously First Blood-ish. But mostly, it’s just your body Redford telling people to eat a bag of dicks. Because that’s what happens when you lose the spy game, baby.

Reflection: I don’t think Brad Pitt has any lines for the first 40 minutes. Discuss.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011)

Tagline: Evolution becomes revolution.

Curiosity: Apes be getting crazy! Also my baby girl wanted to see this for some reason (I blame Freida Pinto).

Plot: Dr. Will Rodman (James Franco) is trying to cure Alzheimer’s, and the key to doing so lies in creating a virus that can repair brain cells. Not only does this virus repair cells, though, it also creates new ones, resulting in a marked increase in intelligence in the apes he’s testing the virus on. But when one of the apes, Bright Eyes, goes psycho-crazy, Rodman loses his funding and is ordered to kill the rest of the test subjects. But he can’t bring himself to kill Bright Eyes’ baby, Caesar (Andy Serkis). Instead, he raises Caesar in secret with his Alzheimer’s-stricken father (John Lithgow). Rodman and Caesar become good buddies, and together they pick up a pretty lady (Pinto) and have some great times.

Then shit gets fucked.

Thoughts: I feel like most of my praise for Rise of the Planet of the Apes consists of backhanded compliments. It’s pretty good, despite being the seventh Apes movie and having a terrible ad campaign and jumping around plot points considerably. But it’s true: I don’t think many people on the Internets thought it was gong to be a good movie, and instead it’s the best movie to come out this summer. What the fuck.

If anything, what makes the film work is that it borrows strategies from Batman Begins (gritty reboot that respects the source material and jettisons camp) and 2001: A Space Odyssey (the most human character isn’t actually human). Serkis has always done incredible motion capture work (Lord of the Rings, King Kong), and Apes is yet another moving performance from the guy in a wet suit. But the whole cast is great, if underutilized. Franco gets plenty of screen time, but Pinto, Lithgow, and Brian Cox all feel underutilized. They’re great, as is Tom Felton (trading the British douchebaggery of Draco Malfoy for the American douchebaggery of Dodge Landon), but they all could have gotten more.

But then, Apes needs its brisk pacing to keep things moving, considering it takes place over the course of about 15 years or something. It also jumps from genre to genre – rom-com to sci-fi to drama to action – so focusing on any one element might have derailed the film. While I wouldn’t exactly put it on the same level as Batman Begins or 2001 – too many convenient plot twists – it’s an emotionally affecting work. You can come into with the thinnest awareness of the Apes franchise and still get caught up in the characters, although fans will surely enjoy all of the references to the series. Sure it gets clunky at times – recycling that “Damn dirty ape” bit is too obvious – but as a whole, Rise of the Planet of the Apes is easily the best movie of the summer.

Verdict: Seriously, best movie with worst ad campaign 2011. I’m glad it’s making money despite the truly shitty trailers and posters.

Heavy Metal (1981)

Tagline: A step beyond science fiction!

Curiosity: I was never allowed to watch it as a kid. That, Black Sabbath’s “Mob Rules” is on the soundtrack, and that tune fuggin’ rules.

Plot: Dudes fuck busty ladies with their boners. Also, some bad guys are trying to obtain a green orb with mysterious powers.

But mostly boners.

Thoughts: Oh wow. Oh… geez, man. In order to appreciate Heavy Metal, you really need to be in the film’s target demographic, which is horny 13-year-old boys. Otherwise, you might fixate on how every character is nothing more than a sex party waiting to happen, or how the plot is a paper-thin boob-delivery system. But even judged as fan service, Heavy Metal falls short due to uneven animation. I just don’t think the human body works the way the film depicts.

As science fiction, Heavy Metal is even worse. The orb actually reminds me of the one ring from Lord of the Rings, in that both are evil objects that few can control. Except Lord of the Rings is a literary masterpiece, and Heavy Metal is a piece of shit.

But wait, given that the movie is called Heavy Metal, it surely must have a ballin’ soundtrack, right? Wrong. Outside of Black Sabbath and maybe Blue Öyster Cult, there is no metal on the soundtrack. Sure, it’s got Devo, whom I love, but they seem inappropriate. What makes the collection laughable, though, is the inclusion of artists like Journey, Sammy Hagar, Grand Funk Railroad, and fucking Stevie Nicks. I know Heavy Metal is “inspired” by a sci-fi erotica mag, but this music is just shit.

Reflection: IF YOU LISTEN TO FOOLS / THE MOB RULES / GUITAR SQUEALIE!