666: DEVILISH CHARM (2014) * ½

A group of sorority sisters come into possession of a demonic charm bracelet that grants wishes to the wearer.  Once they reach their six-wish limit, the devil takes their soul.  It’s then up to the lone brainy sister in the bunch to outwit the devil and reclaim her friends’ souls.

666:  Devilish Charm plays like a mash-up of director David DeCoteau’s Nightmare Sisters and Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama.  That sounds almost too good to be true.  Trust me, it is.  If you think this comes close to matching either of those classics, you’re going to have to keep wishing.

Like Nightmare Sisters, it’s about a group of girls who are stuck at their sorority when their sisters leave them all alone.  (In this case, on Valentine’s Day.)  Like Sorority Babes, the plot hinges heavily on wishes.  (Except this time, it’s a stupid talking bracelet instead of a cool, foulmouthed imp.) 

I guess most of this would’ve been okay if there was some T & A or gore like in Nightmare and Sorority.  However, this is so tame that even though it’s supposedly “unrated”, it could’ve easily been PG.  Heck, if they lost one or two double-entendres it would probably wind up on The Disney Channel.  (Even with all the girls in bikinis and shirtless guys gadding about.)

The plot certainly smacks of The Disney Channel, right down to the childish level of the wishes.  Most times, a character will say something to her friend like “I wish you’d shut your mouth!” and her mouth becomes stuck.  Yes, it’s that dumb.

It’s not all bad though.  There are one or two actual chuckles, however that’s not nearly enough to put salve on the wound.  There are also flashbacks within flashbacks and flashbacks to things we just saw ten minutes ago to help pad out the already scant seventy-eight-minute running time (which feels much longer due to the overly repetitive, herky-jerky plot). 

AKA:  Devilish Charm.

THE DISASTER ARTIST (2017) ***

James Franco directed and stars as Tommy Wiseau in The Disaster Artist, which is a chronicle of the making of The Room.  I guess Franco was trying to make an Ed Wood for this generation.  You know, showing the hopes and aspirations of (allegedly) untalented filmmakers who against all odds manage to make a movie so bad (or unique, depending on your point of view) that it becomes legendary.  While it lacks the poignancy of Ed Wood, it certainly is a doozy of a showcase for Franco.

Tommy meets Greg Sestero (Dave Franco) in acting class and they bond over their love of acting, movies, and James Dean.  Greg is an inhibited pretty boy who is intrigued by Tommy’s fearlessness on stage, even if it does look fucking crazy.  Together, they make a promise to stick by one another through thick and thin.  After years of not making it big in Hollywood, they finally decide to make their own movie, the one and only The Room.

Franco disappears into the role of Wiseau completely.  He captures his mystique and larger than life personality perfectly.  He never turns him into a cartoon though and even gets you rooting for his underdog character.

At its heart, The Disaster Artist as a tribute to the dreamer.  It’s about following your dreams no matter how big and no matter your skill set.  If there is a flaw, it’s that it’s missing the energy of the film its chronicling.  Then again, the recreations of The Room are fun (especially the side by side comparisons near the end), even if they do lack the unbridled zeal of the movie.  

I guess another quibble I had was that it also feels a bit rushed near the end.  The idea that Wiseau could win over the audience in one screening sort of smacks of your standard biopic formula (as does Seth Rogen’s character, who is basically there to relay to the audience just how bad the movie is and why Wiseau’s unorthodox directorial decisions are wrong).  It’s hard to know how broad the movie’s appeal will be.  I don’t know if anyone beyond fans of The Room will want to have anything to do with it.  All I know is that as a fan of The Room, and Franco, I had fun with it.

ANNIHILATION (2018) **

A meteor crashes on Earth and creates what scientists refer to as “The Shimmer”, a giant translucent bubble that envelopes a swamp.  The government sends search parties into the ever-expanding bubble, but only Oscar Isaac has come out of The Shimmer alive, and barely at that.  His concerned wife (Natalie Portman) convinces the project leader (Jennifer Jason Leigh) to let her join up with the next mission.  You see, this time they’re going to send a team of lady scientists and soldiers into The Shimmer to find its source.  I mean the men clearly haven’t produced results, so why not let the women have their shot?   

The opening of director Alex (Ex Machina) Garland’s Annihilation is a real grabber.  The thrilling opening eventually gives way to endless scenes of women walking around while occasionally bumping into some pretty lame mutants.  The recipe for something special was there, but Garland brings no tension to the table once we enter The Shimmer.  It’s at this point where Garland, who had built up the mystery surrounding the giant bubble so well, throws up his hands and allows things to just sort of happen.  Instead of giving us a prolonged sense of dread or an unraveling of a mystery, he’s content to toss scenes from The Thing, Prophecy, Knowing, Alien, and whatever the heck the latest SYFY Channel Killer Crocodile flick was, put them into a blender, and hit the puree button.

Of course, I’m going to spoil the ending because it’s so hilariously stupid that we HAVE to talk about it.  After almost two hours of pussyfooting around, Portman finally comes in contact with the source of the whole deal and it turns out to be alien mass that speaks like beats from an EDM rave.  Then, if that wasn’t stupid enough, it turns into shitty looking Slenderman thing and together, the two of them do a re-enactment of the mirror scene from Duck Soup.  I shit you not.

Speaking of shit, you have to admire the grandiose way the movie shits the bed.  I mean when it shits the bed, it shits it hard.  Full force.  Clear through the mattress and down to the box springs.  When it shits the bed, there are no half-measures involved.  It shits it while looking at you dead in the eye knowing damned well you’re going to be the one to clean it up, and giving zero fucks along the way. 

Despite all that, the set-up is quite marvelous.  Leigh is excellent as the leader and Portman delivers another fine performance.  Besides, if you ever wanted to see Padme cheat on Anakin with Poe Dameron, here’s your chance.

THE CLONES (1973) ***

A scientist named Gerry (Michael Greene) is perplexed to discover a clone has infiltrated and taken over his life.  He soon goes on the run when two hitmen (Gregory Sierra and Otis Young) arrive on the scene with orders to take him out.  While running for his life, Gerry sets out to stop the devious government operation behind the illicit cloning.

The Clones is sort of like a low budget precursor to The Sixth Day.  It offers a clever twist on the typical ‘70s paranoia thriller and gives it a Sci-Fi slant.  Things get off to an atmospheric start with a trippy opening title sequence and a cool Evil Dead-style steady-cam shot of Greene being chased around his underground bunker by an unseen entity.  From there, directors Lamar (Supervan) Card and Paul (Twisted Nightmare) Hunt deliver an exciting rooftop chase, freaky dream and flashback sequences, and more shots of the hero running than an entire season of The Fugitive. 

Like The Sixth Day, the hero teams up with his clone to fight the bad guys in the end.  Unfortunately, once you find out why the clones are being used, it’s kind of a letdown and pretty cheesy (even for a ‘70s Sci-Fi movie).  The car chases get a bit repetitive too, but then again, what’s a little repetition in a thriller about clones?  The good news is the action-packed finale set at an abandoned amusement park is a total blast.  Whatever its faults, any movie that ends with Julio from Sanford and Son chucking grenades off a speeding roller coaster is okay by me. 

Greene gets the best line of the movie when he disparagingly refers to his clone as “Xerox”. 

AKA:  The Cloning.

MISSION: KILLFAST (1991) * ½

Mission:  Killfast is a low budget action flick from writer/director Ted V. (Blood Orgy of the She-Devils) Mikels.  It has all his worst tendencies, namely too many characters and too much plot.  It’s sadly missing the main ingredient that makes his films so enjoyable:  An endearing sense of fun.

The plot is a confusing mess.  It involves stolen nuclear devices, a hero (Tiger Yang) who's a karate teacher that uses his students as his own personal army, bad guys that use a third-rate Playboy mansion as a front, gangsters, militants, and God knows what else.  I guess we can blame the general sense of incoherence to the fact that Ted (who has a small role as a soldier) started filming the movie in 1980 and it took him over a decade to finish production and finally edit (or should we say cobble) it all together.  (That also explains why some of the fashions go from dated to REALLY dated throughout the film.)

Mission:  Killfast is basically just like every other low budget DTV action flick from the ‘90s.  It’s a clumsy mix of Kung Fu, military action, and spy genres.  Occasionally it comes to life when Mikels concentrates on the Kung Fu action, but it’s mostly an overlong bore.  (Try to stay awake through the dull scenes of government briefings, bad guy plotting, and spy shit that wouldn’t have cut it on an episode of Charlie’s Angels.)  There are some goofy moments here (like when Yang takes time off his mission to be the grand marshal of a parade) and a little bit of nudity too (girls hanging by the pool, sex scenes, and photo shoots), but not enough of either to really make a difference.

Yang is a so-so hero.  He can’t act his way out of a paper bag, but he knows how to throw a Ninja Star into a guy’s eye and blow up helicopters.  In fact, a lot of helicopters blow up in this, but they’re mostly poorly rendered explosions over stock footage.  Oh, and there are a lot of mullets too.  

Say what you will about Mission:  Killfast (and I’ve probably said too much as it is), it does contain some things I never thought I’d see in a movie.  I’m thinking specifically of the assassination of a model during a photo shoot.  For that bit of nuttiness alone, it can’t get any lower than * ½.

PRIME EVIL: CRIMES OF THE BLACK CAT (1972) ***

The beauty of the sheer amount of shit on Amazon Prime is that the most innocuous looking movies turn out to be loaded with full-fledged lunacy.  Case in point is Crimes of the Black Cat.  I probably would’ve never even heard of this flick if it wasn’t for Amazon Prime.  It just popped up under the “Customers Also Watched” heading.  On a whim, I decided to watch it because, what the hell, right?  I don’t know what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting this.

Anthony Steffan stars as a blind piano player who overhears a conversation in a crowded bar.  He thinks they’re talking about a murder plot but can’t be sure because of the racket coming from the juke box.  People around him start dying and he comes to suspect a mysterious woman in a white cloak is responsible for it all.

Crimes of the Black Cat would make a great double feature with The Cat O’ Nine Tails.  Both films are Italian giallos with blind protagonists and contain the word “Cat” in the title.  It has a clever set-up, an outrageous hook (the murders are mostly performed by a cat with poisoned claws), and a healthy amount of gratuitous T & A.  The finale might be my favorite part.  It starts off at an eleven on the crazy meter and then escalates wildly from there, only to finish off at one of the most perplexing freeze frame endings of all time.  Said another way, it’s awesome.  

There’s also a good mix of tongue-in-cheek humor and unintentional laughs.  The scene where our blind hero accidentally stumbles upon a corpse is amusing and the silly plot twists will ensure you’ll be grinning like the cat who ate the canary.  The hilarious cat attacks will have you in stitches.  (It looks like a PA took a plastic cat with glowing eyes and hurled it repeatedly at the camera.)  We also get an occasional scene that the distributor forgot to dub into English.  Since one of those scenes involves a topless model yelling at her photographer, I’ll let it slide.

The gore is pretty good for the time.  There are throat slashings, a decapitated cat, and a gnarly Psycho-inspired shower scene where a woman’s boob is slashed apart by a straight razor.  The make-up in the finale is also quite well done.

It’s almost a given that Crimes of the Black Cat is uneven as hell.  Luckily, there’s enough jaw-dropping insanity here to help you get over the lulls.  Even if you find yourself getting restless, hang in there because the last five minutes is an absolute riot.

AKA:  Crimes.  AKA:  Seven Shawls of Yellow Silk.  

You can watch Crimes of the Black Cat for free on Amazon Prime here:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MRWY1WN?ref_=imdbref_tt_wbr_piv&tag=imdbtag_tt_wbr_piv-20 

HOLD THE DARK (2018) **

Jeremy Saulnier is quickly becoming one of my favorite directors.  Green Room is a flat-out masterpiece, Murder Party is loads of fun, and Blue Ruin is genuinely unnerving.  When I heard his latest was showing up on Netflix, I was eager to check it out.  Unfortunately, this is by far Saulnier’s weakest film.

A pack of wolves have been attacking children and carrying them off into the Alaskan wilderness.  A grieving mother (Riley Keough) hires a wolf expert named Core (Jeffrey Wright) to track down the wolf that killed her son and bring back his remains.  As Core begins his search, the boy’s father (Alexander Skarsgard) returns home from war.  

It’s here where the film takes a big turn and becomes something quite different.  That’s unfortunate because the grim and unrelenting set-up held a lot of promise.  I mean Death Wish with Wolves is a great idea, but Saulnier ditches it about a half hour in.  It especially falls apart once he starts pooling from other genres.  There’s a big shootout in the second act that goes on forever and feels like it belongs in an entirely different film.  Then, near the end it practically turns into a slasher movie.  These twists and turns never fully stick the landing and ultimately feel like a mishmash of ideas without a cohesive center.

It also doesn’t help that the film is so slow moving that it becomes difficult for the viewer to become fully invested in the characters.  Saulnier’s detachment from the material is as cold and remote as the Alaskan wilderness itself.  It certainly looks great though as the shots of the snow-covered landscapes are quite beautiful.

Keough gives far and away the best performance of the movie as the damaged mother seeking revenge.  I usually like Jeffrey Wright, but he is much too subdued here to leave an impression.  He curiously is given very little to do and often feels more like a passive bystander than a true protagonist.  It’s like he’s only there to witness events, and not make an impact on them.  Skarsgard’s one-dimensional, mostly silent performance likewise fails to register.

After this and Mute, Skarsgard is quickly becoming the poster boy for overlong, disappointing Netflix movies from otherwise gifted filmmakers.  Guys like Duncan Jones and Jeremy Saulnier are long on talent and make movies that are uniquely theirs.  Unfortunately, it seems like there is no one at Netflix who’s willing to reign them.  That’s great news for the creativity of the filmmaker, but it’s not necessarily a picnic for the audience.