GRETA (2019) **

There’s been a lot of talk about “elevated horror” lately.  Greta is an example of an “elevated thriller”.  It features a good cast (Chloe Grace Moretz and Isabelle Huppert) being guided by a prestige director (The Crying Game’s Neil Jordan) through a thoroughly predictable plot, but since it’s got a good cast and a prestige director, we’re supposed to think it’s hot shit.  In this case, Jordan is barely able to disguise the fact it’s nothing more than a weak rehashing of the ‘90s “From Hell” genre.   Despite the fact that Jordan has directed some well-regarded films in the past, there’s little here to distinguish this one from the likes of The Hand That Rocks the Cradle, Single White Female, and The Temp.  (Or the dozens of similarly themed thrillers that Lifetime has been cranking out for the past decade, for that matter.) 

A Good Samaritan named Frances (Moretz) finds a purse on the subway.  Instead of keeping the money inside, she returns it to its owner, Greta (Huppert), an older lonely woman.  Frances feels sorry for her since she herself recently lost her mother and needs an older woman’s guidance.  She finds out much too late that Greta’s an obsessive psycho.

There are one or two moments here that prevent Greta from being completely dismissible.  The turn that sets up the second act is well executed by Jordan.  He also delivers a fine sequence that unfortunately, and infuriatingly, turns out to be one of those “It was all a dream” scenes.  In fact, it turns out to be an “It was all a dream within a dream” scenes, which makes it twice as infuriating.

However, the other notes are struck with rote indifference.  The scenes of Moretz going to the police about Huppert’s behavior, while necessary, stops the film dead in its tracks, mostly because we know the cops won’t do anything about her.  (If they did, the movie would be over.)  Jordan also drops the ball in the third act as the tension pretty much dissipates by the hour mark.  If Jordan leaned into the more horrific elements of the screenplay, it might’ve worked.  As it is, he’s too busy trying to make the flick respectable that he forgets to have any fun with it.

The performances can’t be faulted.  Moretz is good as kind, but gullible heroine, and Maika (It Follows) Monroe breathes a little life into the film as her spunky roommate.  Huppert’s performance is pretty much the whole show though as she chews the scenery with aplomb.  While it’s not a patch on her mesmerizing turn in Elle, her efforts alone make Greta watchable. 

A FIELD IN ENGLAND (2013) **

Soldiers fighting in the English Civil War split from the battlefield and take off in search of ale.  Along the way, they get waylaid by a deranged alchemist who coerces them into finding his lost buried treasure.  Eventually, the cowardly lot find their courage and decide to fight back. 

I was a fan of director Ben Wheatley’s High-Rise and Free Fire, so I figured I would give A Field in England a chance.  Even though Wheatley made it two years before High-Rise, it feels like it was made a decade earlier.  Because of the low budget, hammy acting, and bland black and white cinematography, it often feels like the work of a first-time director.  I will say that Wheatley does a good job during the battlefield sequences with very little at his disposal.  He’s able to suggest a much larger battle than the one that’s shown by strategically placing the camera, cleverly utilizing well-timed flying dirt, and adding in the sound of gunfire and thundering hooves. 

Unfortunately, the bulk of the movie is devoted to long scenes of men walking around aimlessly.  This section of the picture is rather lifeless and dull, and the addition of the annoying alchemist character does little to liven things up.  The long, draggy middle section almost makes it feel like a short film that was expanded to feature length.  

Still, there are flashes of brilliance here that suggests what Wheatley can do even with the limited resources he was given.  There’s a funny impromptu medical examination scene, and some solid gore as well.  The highlight is the great, trippy scene near the end that feels like a mix of David Lynch, Stanley Kubrick, and Alejandro Jodorowsky.  These moments taken on their own merits are quite impressive, but overall, there’s just not enough of them to make A Field in England worth recommending.

AKA:  English Revolution.

PARASITE (2019) ***

Ki-Woo (Choi Woo-Shik) lives in a crummy basement apartment with his family, who are barely able to eke out a living folding pizza boxes for a local pizza parlor.  When a job tutoring a rich girl falls in his lap, Ki-Woo charms his way into her family’s heart.  Ki-Woo and his scheming family then ingratiate themselves into the rich people’s good graces.  One by one, using false names and credentials, they take on household servant roles, and before long, they are comfortably nestled inside the luxurious home (not to mention rolling in the dough).  Eventually, they learn they can’t keep up the charade forever. 

Parasite made a big splash when the film and its director, Bong Joon Ho won four Oscars, including Best Picture.  (It was also the first foreign language film to win Best Picture.)  It’s thematically similar to Ho’s Snowpiercer, although it’s not quite as daring and provocative as that movie.  This is only the third Ho picture I’ve seen (the other two being Snowpiercer and The Host), and for me, it’s my least favorite of the trio.  That said, it’s still a strong feature, even if it kind of loses its way in the second half.

The first act is a dizzying high wire act as Ho deftly balances the darkly comic tone with the increasingly desperate actions of the poor family.  It’s enormously successful until the twist that sets up the second half causes the film to take a sharp turn.  This section of the movie (which I won’t spoil) is interesting as it forces us to reexamine the characters (and forces the characters to reexamine themselves).  However, the pacing dawdles too often during this stretch, and the sequence where the family become imprisoned inside the home runs on too long.

Despite that, the finale makes it worth the wait.  Unfortunately, after that stellar sequence, the film doesn’t know when to quit as it suffers from a few too many false endings.  Still, this is probably the most atypical movie to ever win Best Picture, and for that, we all should be grateful.  I mean, did Green Book end with a birthday party massacre?  Didn’t think so.

TERMINAL JUSTICE: CYBERTECH P.D. (1996) **

Lorenzo Lamas stars as a cop (who is also a veteran of the “Russian Cartel Wars”) in the far-off year of 2008 where Virtual Reality sex is all the rage.  His next assignment is acting as bodyguard to the world’s hottest Virtual Reality starlet, played by Kari Wuhrer.  Chris Sarandon is the tech kingpin who is bored with making Virtual Reality video games that are so real that they actually kill people.  His new racket is cloning women to be used as sex and murder slaves.  With the help of nutzo doctor (Peter Coyote), they have just begun rolling out the initial test models.  When Lamas’ partner is killed in the line of duty, he teams with a tech nerd (Tod Thawley) to bring down Sarandon.

Directed by Rick (Kickboxer 3:  The Art of War) King, Terminal Justice:  Cybertech P.D. is intermittently amusing, if only to see how the screenwriters thought the future would look.  They rightly predicted the uptick in VR sex, as well as the use of a robot voice to control the lights in your home (although her name is Ludmilla, not Alexa.)  They kind of missed the mark with having cops that have night vision and infrared scopes embedded in their eyeballs though. 

There are admittedly some cool ideas here.  I liked how Lamas could study a crime scene through Virtual Reality.  We also get an odd sequence where Lamas does battle with a killer remote-control helicopter in a fancy restaurant.  I even found myself enjoying the scenes where Lamas is fighting for his life inside a Virtual Reality video game.  The oversaturated backgrounds give a nice sense of something that is both real and unreal at the same time.  Too bad these scenes end before they can gather any real momentum.

The film also brings up an interesting point late in the game about the legality of clones.  Is it legal to murder a clone if they are technically classified as “genetic material”?  Can you even prove a clone was murdered if the original donor is still alive and walking around?  Unfortunately, it is handled in a rather clunky manner and the climax is wrapped up way too abruptly to make for any sort of satisfying conclusion.  

Mostly, Terminal Justice:  Cybertech P.D. feels like three scripts stitched together.  We have the “Avenging the Partner” plot, the “Virtual Reality Remake of The Bodyguard” plot, and the “Law and Order:  Clone Victims Unit” plot.  A movie about any one of these things would’ve worked.  Having all three plots fighting for supremacy just falls flat.  (The fact that the title is comprised of two titles is the tip-off the filmmakers couldn’t decide which movie to make.)  If I had my pick, I would’ve stuck with The Bodyguard rip-off, but that’s just me.  

Lamas is usually enjoyably goofy in something like this.  Here, he doubles down on the dramatic aspects of his character’s plight, and tries to really emote, especially during the scenes where he is coming to grips with his PTSD.  He doesn’t do a bad job.  I just wish he didn’t spend the movie whispering like Clint Eastwood.  Wuhrer handles her role decently enough, despite the fact that she and Lamas have no chemistry together.  Sarandon is kind of wasted, but Coyote is fun to watch as the clone doctor who takes maybe too much pride in his work.

For every interesting and/or potentially cool thing Terminal Justice:  Cybertech P.D. had going for it, there was something wrongheaded or lame that held it back.  Still, it’s not a total loss or anything.  I just can’t bring myself to recommend it though.  Ultimately, I guess I’ll file it under “Watch It If You Ever Wanted to See Lorenzo Lamas Kick Peter Coyote in the Face”.  I mean few films can deliver on that promise.  This is certainly one of them.  When you’ve seen as many bad VR-themed action movies as I have, you have to embrace the ones that try to offer something unique, like Peter Coyote getting kicked in the face by Lorenzo Lamas.  

Lamas gets best line of the movie when he reminisces about the war and the effects of being on a drug that amplifies a soldier’s killer instinct:  “It was better killing through chemistry!” 

AKA:  Terminal Justice.  AKA:  Cybertech.  AKA:  Cybertech P.D.  AKA:  Police Future.

BIG BOOB SQUAD: SEXY RANGERS (2011) ** ½

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers were after my time.  Even though I didn’t watch the show growing up, that didn’t stop me from watching this Japanese spoof.  Despite the title, there’s unfortunately no nudity to be found, but we do get plenty of cheesecake scenes of girls running around in bikinis before changing into low-rent cosplay outfits to fight a bunch of guys in rubber monster suits.  (Only a few have boobs big enough to justify the title though, which is a bit of a bummer.)

With the help of a little robot professor, five Japanese girls learn to channel their “Pai Energy” (big boob energy) to become rainbow-colored Sexy Rangers.  Together, they fight the forces of evil.  When things get too hairy, they jump inside a giant robot to do battle with kaiju monsters.  A big-ass eyeball orders the evil Queen Amorous (Yoko Yamada) to destroy the Sexy Rangers.  She keeps sending out lame monsters to defeat them and they always return to her with their asses beat.  The Queen eventually stoops to kidnapping one of their fans (who herself has untapped Pai Energy), and it’s up to the Rangers to save her. 

With the cheap costumes and lame fight scenes, Big Boob Squad:  Sexy Rangers often feels like it was filmed in someone’s backyard.  There are even times when you’ll swear you’re watching a cheap porno version of Power Rangers with all the good stuff cut out.  On the plus side, it’s only an hour long, and trust me, there are worse ways to spend an hour.  Also, the hand drawn bumpers that intermittently appear are pretty cool. 

The giant mech suit vs. monster battles are about as good as could be expected given the production’s limited resources.  It’s not surprising given the fact that director Shinji Nishikawa had an extensive resume working on Godzilla movies.  He also gives us at least one clever villain, a monster who has a Polaroid camera for a head that spits out pictures of the Sexy Rangers in compromising positions.

The film would’ve easily received Three Stars if Nishikawa somehow found a way out to coax the Rangers out of their wardrobe.  As it is, the scenes of the scantily clad girls romping around are acceptable, even if they do lack pizzazz.  Overall, Sexy Rangers is slight and harmless way to kill sixty minutes.

AKA:  Sexy Rangers. 

JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF TIME (1967) ½ *

David L. Hewitt had an all or nothing career.  Sometimes, he made classics like Monsters Crash the Pajama Party or the immortal The Mighty Gorga.  Mostly though, he made crap like The Wizard of Mars and this boring turd.  

Journey to the Center of Time plays like a bargain bin version of The Time Travelers (which Hewitt provided special effects for).  A group of scientists are in danger of losing their funding, so they make a last-ditch effort to get their time machine working.  The experiment winds up sending them hurtling into the future where a race of blue skinned aliens who now rule the Earth are losing a war for control of the planet. 

It would be one thing if Journey to the Center of Time was merely bad.  To make matters worse, it’s dull as all get out.  If you’ve been having trouble sleeping during quarantine, put this flick on.  It’s a surefire cure for insomnia.  It’s full of boring scenes of actors glumly spouting an avalanche of impenetrable scientific gobbledygook, static camerawork, boring exposition dumps, and inexplicable barrages of unrelated stock footage.  This, coupled with the droning soundtrack and nonexistent pacing, will have you seeing the back of your eyelids before the halfway mark. 

I like many of the actors involved, but even they can’t salvage this mess.  Hewitt used Scott Brady and Anthony Eisley much more effectively in The Mighty Gorga a few years later.  I did have fun spotting a young Lyle Waggoner from Wonder Woman as one of the aliens.  The person who makes the biggest impression though is the hilariously named Poupee Gamin, who plays the busty bombshell alien leader.  Too bad she doesn’t stick around for very long. 

Poupee is about the only bright spot in this otherwise turgid affair.  I guess it's not Hewitt's fault that this is such a sluggish, boring movie.  Afterall, the plot revolves around changing the space time continuum, so it only makes sense that the 77-minute running time feels like an eternity. 

AKA:  Time Warp.

THE MUMMY LIVES (1993) *

The Mummy Lives begins with a five-minute lecture on astrological constellations over a vast starfield.  Every time a Zodiac sign is introduced, the stars are connected like a game of Connect the Dots to personify each sign.  This vaguely fits into the plot (eventually), but it just felt like gratuitous padding to me.

The next twenty-five minutes alternates between scenes of Leslie Hardy tossing and turning in bed, an archeological dig, and a flashback to ancient Egypt where a high priest is mummified.  The editing is so confusing that it’s hard to tell which event Hardy is dreaming about, the dig or the mummification.  Unfortunately, the editing only gets worse as the movie goes on.  Hardy narrates the beginning scenes, but by the time the third act rolls around, she’s nowhere to be found, so her boyfriend has to take up the narrating duties.  Whenever the film hits a dead end (which is often), it just cuts back to the astrological starfield from the beginning.  Then we hear some random dialogue that sets up the next scene. 

Oh, I guess I should say a few words about the mummified priest.  He’s played by none other than Tony Curtis.  Yes, Tony Curtis.  He has to be the most miscast mummy in movie history.  Speaking in a thick New York accent (that won’t be invented for three thousand years), he looks silly in his assortment of Egyptian robes and headpieces.  I doubt it’s really him in the mummy suit though (which is more of a dried husk than the traditionally wrapped costume).  One thing is for sure, Some Like It Hot was a LONG time ago.

The Mummy Lives has pretty much the same plot as the 1932 version of The Mummy.  The mummy’s tomb is opened, he comes to life, and kills the archeologists who desecrated his resting place.  He returns to human form and tries to woo the woman he believes is the reincarnation of his lost love (Hardy).  Curtis then spends rest of the movie dressed like a sheik and trying to gaslight Hardy into thinking she’s mummy marriage material. 

Allegedly based on an Edgar Allan Poe poem, this yawnfest does have an occasional laugh or two.  The cat attack scene is kind of funny, and a chuckle can be had whenever Curtis is forced to say shit like, “Get out of my TOOOMB!”  Overall, this has got to be one of the worst mummy movies ever made, ranking down there with The Mummy Returns and Jerry Warren’s Attack of the Mayan Mummy.  If it’s not the worst, then it’s definitely the dullest.