Jeepers Creepers (2001)

You know what movies lack nowadays? Originality. The sleeper hit Jeepers Creepers gave cinema a good shot of originality back in the summer of 2001, and it wasn't a bad film at all.

Darry Jenner (Justin Long) and his sister Trish (Gina Philips) are driving through some back roads on their way home from college, discussing an urban legend. It just so happens that a young couple they knew died on the particular road, with Darry noting "they never found her head." Trish also happens to mention that she "always thought this would be the road [she]'d die on." Meanwhile, a huge truck, driven by who they assume is a redneck, starts hassling them, apparently trying to run them off the road. They finally swerve into a field, and the truck flies by.

Finally getting back on the road, the siblings see the truck parked next to an abandoned church, and someone in a long coat and wide-brimmed hat dumping something into a drainpipe. Something wrapped in a sheet covered in red stains. What could it be? Could it be a dead body? Could it be a sheet covered in red paint and cherry Kool-Aid? These meddling kids just have to find out. All they need is a talking dog and a dork in a neckerchief and they'd be the Scooby Gang.

They turn around and wait until they're alone, then Darry looks down into the drainpipe before accidentally falling in. Darn the luck. But you know he was gonna fall in. Why? If they'd kept on driving and pretended nothing happened, the movie would have been five minutes long. Anyway, it turns out that poor Darry has landed in a giant cave, and the walls are covered with dead bodies. Darry searches for an exit, and happens to discover the couple he was discussing with his sister: dead and sown together, with her head stitched back onto her neck. She really did lose her head.

Darry finds a way out, as it turns out the cave is actually the basement of the old church, and all they're really concerned with is getting out of there. They call the police from a pay phone at a diner (since Darry's cell phone battery is dead), and they're told a unit is on the way. While they wait for the cops, the pay phone starts ringing. Darry picks it up, and on the other end is an old woman who tells them that the basement full of bodies is called "the House of Pain," and warns them about the truck and the song "Jeepers Creepers." If they hear that song, they're in deep, deep trouble.

The cops arrive at the diner, and Darry tells them his insane story about seeing the House of Pain. Naturally, they don't believe him, and the cops agree to follow them out to the old church so Darry can prove it. The cops hear a report over their radio that the church is burning down, and in Darry and Trish's car, they land on the song "Jeepers Creepers" on the radio. Through the rear windshield behind them, we can see who we'll call The Creeper (Jonathan Breck) standing on the roof of the police car. And guess what? He's got a huge battle axe with him.

Anyway, the kids eventually end up at the police station, where they call their parents and meet Jezelle (Patricia Belcher), who happens to be the nutty old lady that called them at the diner. She tells them all the necessary backstory about the Creeper. Backstory, you ask? Why yes. Every twenty-three years, for twenty-three days, the Creeper gets to eat... us.

You don't see to many movies about man-eating monsters anymore, especially man-eating monsters that wheel around in old beat-up trucks. So we can't say the movie's not original. However, much of the movie just doesn't seem all that good. Don't get me wrong, I like the movie. But after the opening, it seems dull. And don't get me started on the crazy psychic lady. Oh man, do I hate her. I wanted to see the Creeper just rip her head off and crap down her neck, and it never happens.

However, I will give the movie props for having some cool moments. The entire opening, up until the kids discover the House of Pain, is great (very reminiscent of films like Duel), and the tongue scene (you'll know what I mean when you see it) is wonderfully disgusting. And the ending shows a lot of bravery, because it's not the typical "let's wrap things up with a bow" Hollywood ending.

The acting is a mixed bag. I liked Gina Philips in her role, but Justin Long seemed inconsistent. He was good at times, annoying at times. But at least he wasn't as bad as Patricia Belcher. I never ever ever want to see her in a movie or on TV again. Ever. She makes me want to start throwing bricks every time I see her. Both her character and her acting ability are absolutely awful. Eileen Brennan, who you might recognize as Mrs. Peacock from the far underrated Clue movie, shines in her appearance as the eccentric Cat Lady. Even though she's only in one scene, she's still better than Patricia Belcher. The music, composed by Bennett Salvay, isn't bad at all. Creepy, foreboding, and almost a character in itself. Victor Salva made the wise decision to play up the music instead of sound effects in scenes like the opening car chase.

Overall, I'll give Jeepers Creepers a thumbs-up. You wouldn't miss anything by not watching it, but there are some really awesome moments that deserve to be seen. It's worth a rental if you're looking for a way to kill an hour and a half.

Final Rating: ***

Resident Evil (2002)

Just like any other form of entertainment, video games are blessed with a multitude of genres. That way, there's a little something out there for every kind of gamer to enjoy. Among the more profitable genres is survival horror. The idea of dropping a player into an isolated location populated with evil demonic monsters from the edge of Hell is a surefire money-maker for game publishers. And in this reviewer's opinion, the standard bearer for survival horror has been the acclaimed Resident Evil franchise.

When Capcom released the first game (titled "Biohazard" in Japan) on the Sony PlayStation in 1996, it was a smashing success. The decade that followed saw the franchise branch out to include three sequels, a prequel, a number of spin-offs, a remake, a bunch of novelizations, and action figures of the game's characters. So it was only a matter of time before Hollywood became knocking at Capcom's door.

Though Sony Pictures green-lighted a Resident Evil movie in 1999, behind-the-scenes shake-ups caused it to languish in developmental hell until Paul W.S. Anderson - director of the well-received cinematic adaptation of Mortal Kombat - was brought in to write and direct in 2000. The movie finally started moving forward in production, and saw a spring 2002 release date. Considering the "curse of mediocrity" that is said to befall video game adaptations, just how does the Resident Evil movie stack up?

Our story begins with a quick introduction of the Umbrella Corporation. For those of you unfamiliar with the games, Umbrella is the largest commercial entity in the United States, a politically influential company that handles everything from computers to pharmaceuticals and health care. Ninety percent of all homes in America have at least one Umbrella-produced product. However, unbeknownst to the general public, the company's immense financial gains are thanks to having a hand in the underground production of military technology, genetic experimentation, and viral weaponry.

That leads into a short prologue at an Umbrella laboratory called "The Hive," a half-mile beneath Raccoon City, a small Midwestern town that Umbrella practically owns. Someone purposely shatters a small vial containing an unknown substance, which escapes into the ventilation ducts and prompts the Hive's security system to go homicidal. It locks down the Hive, then kills everyone inside by crashing two crowded elevators and suffocating everyone in the labs and offices with Halon gas.

We flash forward to five hours later, where a young woman named Alice (Milla Jovovich) wakes up in the shower with a nasty bump on the head and a bad case of amnesia. She soon discovers that she's in a huge mansion in the woods, with a hidden cache of guns in her dresser drawers. Why? She doesn't know. Alice has no idea what's going on, but she's quickly jumped by an unknown man. At that moment, a team of commandos storm the mansion, crashing through the windows and tackling Alice and her assailant.

The commandos run an ID check on the man and learn that he's Matt Addison (Eric Mabius), a local man claiming to be a police officer. He's placed in handcuffs since his presence is a tad questionable, and access a hidden door that leads them to a subterranean train statio. There they find a shady fellow amnesic named Spence (James Purefoy), who we learn lives in the mansion with Alice, posing as her husband. Anyway, the commandos and their three companions take the train down into the Hive with the intent to shut down the Red Queen (the voice of Michaela Dicker), the artificial intelligence program that's in charge of the Hive. However, the Red Queen's defenses chop up most of the commandos into itty-bitty little pieces, but those that remain shut down the defenses and manage to turn off the Red Queen.

Shutting down the Red Queen ends up opening every locked door in the Hive, which is a very, very bad thing. As those still alive try to leave, they're attacked by a massive horde of reanimated corpses. Despite having all kinds of firepower, the zombies get the best of them and the crew's numbers are thinned out to five: Alice, Spence, Matt, and commandos Rain (Michelle Rodriguez) and Kaplan (Martin Crewes). They promptly reboot the Red Queen and grill her for information, learning what exactly caused their mess: the broken vial we saw earlier caused an outbreak of Umbrella's newest creation, the T-Virus.

Being infected with the T-Virus can have some extreme consequences (i.e. reanimating the dead), so the Red Queen killed everyone and locked up the place to prevent the outbreak from spreading. Of course, she wasn't exactly expecting a crack team of commandos to barge in and raise a stink, but what can you do?

So after this little revelation, the crew decides to head for the nearest exit. Unfortunately, they have less than an hour to escape before the Hive's doors close for good, and they also have to worry about the zombie army, a pack of zombified dogs, and the "Licker," an vicious Umbrella-created monster with immense claws and a super-long tongue.

Lots of people have knocked Paul W.S. Anderson for doing less-than-stellar movies. However, I must give Anderson credit for giving the movie a very slick and stylized look that I appreciate. He and cinematographer David Johnson use crazy camera angles to hearken back to the games, such as overhead shots and close-ups of opening eyes. From the way he talks on the movie's DVD commentary, Anderson has a real passion for the games, and after repeat viewings, it shows.

However, that passion couldn't raise the film to be more than what it is. One thing that bugged me was the cast. I liked Jovovich as Alice and Purefoy as Spence, but outside of those two, the rest of the cast was either useless cannon fodder or just not that good. Then again, I liked Rodriguez too, but she pretty much plays the same role she plays in all her movies: a tough-as-nails tomboy. Watch The Fast and the Furious, Girlfight, Blue Crush, or S.W.A.T., and she's playing the same character with some subtle differences. And I'd be remiss if I didn't compliment Marco Beltrami and shock-rocker Marilyn Manson for their awesome score. With the film being more of an action film, the throbbing industrial rock music fitted much better than an orchestral score would.

A second problem is that the plot is too loose from the games. Sure, there's zombies and labs and the T-Virus, even a Licker, but those are the only real similarities. The movie relies too much on homages to other movies (such as Dawn of the Dead and Cube), and not on the material presented in the games, though I am glad it wasn't a direct knock-off of the games. If it was a direct translation, the movie would have been a James Bond movie with zombies. And there's also many similarities to Alice in Wonderland, too. Why? I don't know, and I don't think anyone involved knows why either. The only reason I can think of is the main character is named Alice, and even then, her name isn't mentioned until the cast roll call in the closing credits.

Night of the Living Dead director George Romero, who'd originally been attached to write and direct the movie for years prior to Anderson taking over, wrote a script that was a wee bit more faithful to the games. While Romero's script could have used a few rewrites, I think it could have been spun into a halfway decent movie. Maybe someone could have adapted S.D. Perry's novelizations of the games into screenplays, too.

Overall, Resident Evil might be watchable, but I don't know exactly if I'd call it good. You know that kind of movie. It's the kind you'll pop into your DVD player on a lazy Sunday afternoon if you want an inoffensive way to kill an hour and forty minutes. Is it as good as the games? Unfortunately, not by a long shot. But the movie adaptation of Resident Evil isn't totally bad.

Final Rating: **½

Cube (1997)

We get used to seeing movies with multi-million dollar budgets, famous cast members, and elaborate sets. But in 1997, Vincenzo Natali made a film with six unknown actors for only $365,000 Canadian. And in an unheard-of move, it took place in what is essentially just one room. An homage to the Twilight Zone episode "Five Characters in Search of an Exit" and similar in tone to Harlan Ellison's short story "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream," Cube is absolute brilliance.

The plot is simple, yet complex at the same time. Our story follows six people: Leaven (Nicole de Boer), Worth (David Hewlett), Quentin (Maurice Dean Wint), Holloway (Nicky Guadagni), Rennes (Wayne Robson), and Kazan (Andrew Miller). The strangers find themselves locked in an immense maze of cubical rooms. There's no food or water, giving them only a few days to live. None of the six know why or how they're there, but they all have some sort of knowledge that could allow them to escape. The tensions rise as they're forced to work together in an attempt to free themselves from this nightmare.

Cube is an incredibly focused film. It could just as easily be a play using a partitioned set. The only real differences from scene to scene are various lighting tricks, or the booby traps the captives encounter. But director Vincenzo Natali makes the absolute best of what little there is to work with. You wouldn't expect such a minimalist film to be so gripping or suspenseful, but Cube is a fine example of how less is more. For a modern sci-fi/horror film to not rely heavily on effects or at least elaborate sets and production elements feels like a rare feat.

Part of the movie's charm lies in the mystery created from the very start of the movie. The screenplay, penned by Natali, Andre Bijelic, and Graeme Manson, is excellently done. It unfolds gradually, revealing itself a piece at a time. The more the movie progresses, the more we learn about the characters and the more they learn about their situation and one another. It also helps that the movie boasts a brilliant score composed by Mark Korven. Korven's music gives the movie an air of suspicion, almost as if something is hiding in the shadows.

The small cast also does a respectable job, despite some over-acting in various scenes. Over-acting isn't always a bad thing, though; Charlton Heston and Bruce Campbell have made careers out of it. In fact, I find the over-acting to be a glimmer of fun in the bleakness of the movie. The standout in the movie is Maurice Dean Wint. Even though he starts to get a little hammy, he really manages to convey that he's slowly being driven insane by cabin fever.

Despite being unusual, Cube manages to simultaneously be Hollywood friendly and thumb its nose at Hollywood's conventions. Fans of movies that are quickly paced will probably be turned off, as Cube works the slow burn, drawing out particular scenes over long periods of time, yet it doesn't lack suspense or excitement. I gladly recommend Cube to fans of both independent films and The Twilight Zone, as well as film students wondering what kind of a first movie to make. Cube is brilliantly original, and too weird not to pass up. It's a shame that this was never a huge hit, because it would definitely be a classic example of creativity.

Final Rating: ****

House of 1000 Corpses (2003)

From Universal's classic monster movies in the 1930s to the slasher movies of the 1980s to the watered-down movies with casts full of beautiful famous people in the late 1990s, the horror genre has taken many twists and turns in its existence as a cinematic medium. However, more dedicated horror fans tend to wax nostalgic for the grindhouse horror of the 1970s. The films were gritty, bleak, and unrepentantly violent. Unfortunately, in the era of the kid-friendly PG-13 horror movie, grindhouse horror seemingly disappeared. Take a look at movies like The Last House on the Left and I Spit On Your Grave. Nobody makes movies like these anymore, but in the hearts of some, the genre still lives.

One such heart belongs to heavy metal superstar and avid horror enthusiast Rob Zombie. When he decided to make his own horror movie in 2000, fans of the genre began buzzing, anticipating its release... and then nothing happened. It took three years and three distributors before it was released, but Zombie's House of 1000 Corpses was finally unleashed on April 11, 2003. Despite having a limited release, it served as a stark reminder that before Hollywood began serving up family-friendly horror, films like The Hills Have Eyes and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre were horror. With House of 1000 Corpses, the horror genre finally got a much-needed look back at what helped define it in the 70s and 80s.

Our film centers around two couples: Jerry (Chris Hardwick) and Denise (Erin Daniels), and Bill (Rainn Wilson) and Mary (Jennifer Jostyn). The quartet are on a road trip across America, researching a book about roadside attractions. They stop for gas at a gas station operated by creepy clown Captain Spaulding (Sid Haig), and are convinced to take a spin on the "murder ride" at the Museum of Monsters and Madmen (which is conveniently next door to the gas station). The "murder ride" consists of a bizarre carnival ride where we see models of famed killers like Albert Fish, Ed Gein, and Lizzie Borden, finally arriving at the model of a killer known as "Doctor Satan."

According to Spaulding, Doctor Satan was a mad scientist at a mental institution that was hung from a tree near the gas station by a vigilante mob. Despite the protests of the other three members of the group, Jerry convinces a reluctant Spaulding to give them directions to the tree. They leave, heading in the direction of the tree as a storm rolls in. The four run into a pretty female hitchhiker, and Mary and Denise's protests notwithstanding, the hitchhiker gets in. Introducing herself as Baby (Sheri Moon), she offers up a little nugget of help once a tire goes flat. She lives close by, and her brother Rufus (Robert Mukes) is a mechanic that owns a tow-truck. So why not stop at her house while Rufus fixes the tire? Even if Baby's a little nutty, some help can't be all that bad.

 The two couples eventually end up at Baby's house, where they meet her equally loopy family: insane alpha male Otis (Bill Moseley), past-her-prime hooker Mother Firefly (Karen Black), seven-foot-tall burn victim Tiny (Matthew McGrory), and foulmouthed standup comedian Grandpa Hugo (Dennis Fimple). The four travelers realize that they've stumbled upon the Brady Bunch From Hell, as they're slowly tortured, beaten, humiliated, and murdered by their captives.

House of 1000 Corpses is absolutely nothing like what today's youth knows about horror movies. The film is brutal, violent, disturbing. The main characters are not the only victims of pain and suffering; the audience is too. Once the movie gets going, it never stops torturing the senses. Wild cinematography, intense music, demented violence, and bright colors all attack the eyes and ears. In one scene, the film absolutely stops dead in its tracks for a good minute just before a cop meets the business end of a handgun. It just prolongs the agony we see on screen, making it seem like it'll never end.

The movie is Rob Zombie's tribute to the exploitation horror of decades ago, the kind of movies you'd see in a low-rent dollar theater or drive-in. His direction is quite different than you'd see in other movies, emphasizing a more old-school style of filmmaking. We see insane camera angles, split-screen shots (in order to highlight reaction shots without turning away from the main action), and odd color choices. The movie also benefits from visceral makeup effects by Wayne Toth and a throbbing musical score composed by Zombie and Scott Humphrey. I really liked the score a lot, going from a simple eerie ambience to a crunchy industrial sound, sounding just like the movie feels.

However, all is not kosher with the movie. First up, as much as I enjoyed Zombie's directing prowess, but the movie takes a jarring, confusing turn towards the end, when the setting changes from the hellish farmhouse to a maze of subterranean caverns. It really comes out of nowhere, and while it's an intense scene, it really doesn't mesh with what we've seen prior. While I don't blame Zombie for wanting to give us a glimpse of Doctor Satan, it came at the expense of a coherent narrative. I also thought the acting was really give or take, too. I especially didn't like the four victims. There was an annoying wiener, a wimp, and two shrewish harpies, and I couldn't wait for the killers to take them out.

However, I enjoyed all the other characters. I liked Tom Towles and Walt Goggins as the two police officers hunting for the four missing victims, and each member of the killer family gives a fun, memorable performance. I really delighted in the offerings of Sheri Moon (who's both bubbly and crazy in one cute package) and Bill Moseley (who I felt was a very bizarre cross between his character from Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 and Charles Manson), but my favorite member of the cast was Sid Haig. He's just a horrible, filthy clown, but is so charismatic that you don't know if you should like him or be repelled by him. The guy is absolutely hilarious to boot, which only makes harder to dislike him.

After seeing the R-rated theatrical cut, I shudder to think what Rob Zombie's original (and heretofore unreleased) NC-17 cut of House of 1000 Corpses was like. It can only be more violent and graphic, right? As it stands, House of 1000 Corpses is a bizarre descent into the depths of Hell, a depiction that hearkens back to what many fans of the genre consider "the good ol' days." While I do enjoy it and really like the movie a lot, I think the five stars I gave it when I first saw it was a wee bit generous. After ruminating on my original review, I think House of 1000 Corpses is probably worthy of about three and a half stars instead. But star ratings aside, it still gets a thumbs up and a Sutton Seal of Approval.

Final Rating: ***½

The Blair Witch Project (1999)

What is more frightening: the knowledge that you will die, or death itself? Filmmakers Eduardo Sánchez and Daniel Myrick posed that question in their innovative blockbuster The Blair Witch Project, a no-budget horror movie filmed with a camcorder by its three unknown stars. With the film's website giving it an amazing, then-unparalleled level of hype, The Blair Witch Project raked in over 240 million dollars worldwide on its way to becoming one of the most talked-about movies of the 1990s. But is it worth all the attention it received? Or would it have been better off going missing, just like its characters?

Sometime in October 1994, a student filmmaker (Heather Donahue) prepares to do a school project, a documentary on an urban legend about a witch rumored to haunt the Black Hills Forest outside Burkittsville, Maryland. She hires a cameraman (Josh Leonard) and a sound technician (Michael Williams), and together they interview various Burkittsville citizens before heading into the forest, never to be seen again. A year later, the footage of the missing film crew was discovered. What it contains is the final five days days in the lives of the vanished filmmakers, a chilling descent into insanity. It is a documentation of the increasing bad blood and intolerance between the three, the many conflicts and losses they have, as well as the near-suicidal depression that sets in as they make the realization that they will never escape.

Ever hear the phrase "bump in the night"? It's taken to a whole new level here, building the tension over time, through one intense moment after another. Everything is seen through the eyes of the characters, taking the realism feeling to unprecedented heights. The movie rocks the slow burn, relying more on the performances of its cast more than a monster jumping out to get them. However, the film is not without its flaws. Good God almighty, the flaws are all over this puppy. Heather Donahue is the absolute worst, the most annoying actress I've ever had the displeasure of seeing. Just have a pain-in-the-neck girl screech profanities at the top of her lungs for an hour and a half while dripping snot on the camera, and you'd have Heather Donahue. I'm surprised the two guys didn't tie the gutter-mouth shrew to a tree and left her there to rot. And oddly enough, she's the only one who's had consistent work since. I saw her on an episode of The Outer Limits and a couple of commercials for the Steak & Shake restaurant chain, no lie. Whatever happened to those other guys? I liked Josh Leonard, and as far as I know, he's only done a handful of mostly direct-to-video movies since. (He was pretty good in Madhouse, by the way. Go rent it.)

And boy, were these three goobers stupid. Sure, they lost their map at one point, but wouldn't they remember which way they were heading when they left the car? And wouldn't they think to have a backup map? They had a compass, and you can tell which way is east by watching the sun rise. These three dopes are supposed to be film students, and they screw up a camping trip. If the movie took place in 2004 instead of 1994, they'd all whip out cell phones and call somebody to pick them up. I know that everybody has a cell phone nowadays (I think they're issued to newborns as they exit the womb), but I also know people had them in 1994. They were rare, but they existed. And what's up with all the profanity? They drop the F-bomb at least 133 times in the span of 87 minutes, not to mention the other colorful language throughout the movie. I'm not a prude or anything, but geez. Sometimes you have to think of something a little more creative than profanities to say. I'm also surprised the movie cost 22,000 dollars. I'm sure it all went into fancy editing equipment, camping gear, and the actors' paychecks, because I could make this movie with my camcorder and edit it with my computer, and it would cost no more than a few hundred bucks.

Many of the film's critics dislike the film because there was no way it could live up to the insanely immense hype. Other, more casual viewers were turned off by the fact that there was no visible villain, no big stars, and very little action. It's also drawn heavy comparison to to the little-known 1998 movie The Last Broadcast, a documentary-style film about a New Jersey TV crew that ends up dead while searching the woods for a mythical figure called the "Jersey Devil." One could even find parallels between The Blair Witch Project and the extremely controversial 1980 film Cannibal Holocaust, a fictional movie that centers around the footage shot by an American film crew that were brutally slaughtered by a tribe of savages in the Amazon rain forest. However, The Blair Witch Project became the most successful independent film ever at the time, and it earned a spot in the Guinness Book of Records for the largest budget-to-box office ratio, making $10,931 for every one dollar spent.

It's hard to imagine that a no-budget independent movie made with a camcorder and 16-millimeter black and white camera became such a huge hit, and eventually became one of the most spoofed and lampooned movies of all time. Despite the flaws, I think it's worth a watch. If you can keep from getting annoyed at the goofy parts of the movie, then you might like it.

Final Rating: ***½

Jackass: The Movie (2002)

Despite justified critiques that they're moving further and further away from their music-oriented roots, MTV's programming has always been able to get people talking. For the longest time, Mike Judge's Beavis & Butt-Head was arguably the most controversial show ever aired on the network. It was reviled by critics and PTA groups, and censors even refused to allow the titular characters to say the word "fire" unless it was within a particular context (though there was a very good reason for that).

But on April 12, 2000, MTV unleashed a show far more controversial than Beavis & Butt-Head ever hoped to be. In spite of protests from parental watchdog groups and Senator Joseph Lieberman, Jackass became one of the most memorable and popular shows in MTV's history. Merely half-hour compilations of a gang of idiots doing insane and embarrassing things for nobody's pleasure but their own, Jackass arguably drew just as much (if not more) vitriol and derision from the parental watchdogs in a mere twenty-five episodes than Beavis & Butt-Head did in almost two hundred.

When the show's creators called it quits, they decided to say farewell with in an extreme way: they took their show to the big screen, without the burden of bleeps and blurs. If you've ever wondered why Hollywood is occasionally called "Hollyweird," watch Jackass: The Movie. How many movies do you know of that start with a "don't try this at home" warning?

Usually, I'd do a plot synopsis at this point. But there's no plot to speak of, because it's just an 84-minute uncensored version of the Jackass TV show. If you've seen the show, you know what I mean. The movie opens with the movie's primary participants — Johnny Knoxville, Bam Margera, Ryan Dunn, Steve-O, Jason "Wee Man" Acuña, Chris Pontius, Preston Lacy, Dave England, and Ehren McGhehey — riding in a gigantic shopping cart, set to Carl Orff's "O Fortuna." The cast is introduced, a giraffe runs by for no reason, and the Jackasses crash into a fruit stand. We hear the familiar opening twang of the TV show's theme song ("Corona" by The Minutemen), and thus begins a descent into the insane, the bizarre, and the disgusting.

Keep in mind this is a funny yet filthy movie based on a funny yet filthy TV show. There's plenty of male nudity and uncensored profanities that they couldn't have gotten away with on MTV, and enough silly behavior for drunken frat guys to imitate if they get bored late one night. There's also cameos from somewhat famous people too; Henry Rollins, Butterbean, Rip Taylor, BMX star Mat Hoffman, and pro skateboarders Tony Hawk, Eric Koston, and Clyde Singleton all appear somewhere in the movie.

Despite the movie's promotion hailing it as being "too wild for TV," most of the skits would have been just fine to air on MTV. Sure, the nudity and profanities wouldn't have passed standards and practices, but with some creative editing, most of the movie could have easily been on television instead of movie theaters. In some segments, the jokes wear themselves out (such as Steve-O firing bottle rockets from his rectum), or just aren't funny at all (such as the muscle stimulators and the BMX tug-of-war). I guess it was like that so audiences could calm down and catch their breath from prior, funnier scenes (or quit puking following the gross scenes). They did that with the Mystery Science Theater 3000 movie, so I assume that's what they did here, too. It could happen, couldn't it?

 But overall, I'd say Jackass: The Movie is a ton of fun. It's got some really hilarious moments, but quite a bit of crap (literally and physically) bogs it down. And just as a note, watch all the way through the credits. You'll thank me later.

Final Rating: ***

Army of Darkness (1992)

If any genre has contributed more cult classics than any other, it's been horror. And while the genre often finds itself being disrespected by the world at large, it's brought us more than its fair share of memorable movies over the years. Three such films have been Sam Raimi's Evil Dead trilogy. While the movies aren't very famous outside their small yet devoted following, they're proof that you don't need a large budget to create a movie that's fun to watch. And after the first two independently-made Evil Deads, Raimi decided to bring the franchise to the big time with Army of Darkness, distributed by Universal Studios. While it sadly doesn't bear the name Evil Dead 3 (thanks to Universal wanting it to stand alone), it shows the culmination of the trilogy's evolution into horror-influenced slapstick comedy. And I think Army of Darkness is a better film for it. I don't think it would have gotten its own action figures and comic books if it hadn't.

We begin with a quickie recap of what's come before: Ash (Bruce Campbell) and his girlfriend Linda (Bridget Fonda) go to a cabin in the middle of the woods, monsters show up thanks to the Necronomicon, Ash cuts his hand off and sticks a chainsaw on the stump, and ends up getting sucked into a mystically-created black hole as the opening credits begin. Ash emerges from the black hole in medieval England, weapons and transportation in tow. Why's he in England? Don't ask me, I didn't write the movie. An army of soldiers led by Lord Arthur (Marcus Gilbert) assume he's a spy for a rival kingdom, and lock him up with other captives despite the protests of one of Arthur's wisemen (Ian Ambercrombie).

Ash is chained up, and led to Lord Arthur's castle. When he arrives, he meets Duke Henry (Richard Grove) and gets hit in the head with a rock by Sheila (Embeth Davidtz), who is told that her brother was killed in battle by Ash. Ash is ordered to be executed by being thrown into "The Pit." He is, and is forced to fight two "deadites" (which we learn is the given name of the Evil Dead demons). The wiseman tosses Ash his chainsaw, and he gets a little busy. He escapes, and demands he be sent back to his own time. The wiseman sends Ash to find the Necronomicon, giving him three words to say ("klatuu, barata, nikto"). We'll need to remember that later.

Our hero arrives at a windmill, where he apparently plans on staying for the night. He smashes a mirror, assuming his reflection was a deadite, and six-inch versions of Ash jump from the shards. This scene defies summation, so I'll leave it up to you to watch. Regardless, one of the mini-Ashes jumps down Ash's throat, and an eye starts to grow out of his shoulder. The eye develops until an evil clone of Ash rips himself away from the Ash we know and love. Instead of fighting or arguing, Good Ash simply shoots Evil Ash (Bruce Campbell, again) in the face with his shotgun.

Evil Ash is hacked to pieces with a chainsaw and buried, and Ash heads on his way for the Necronmicon. You remember those three words? Well, Ash didn't. He arrives at a cemetery where the Necronomicon is kept, and the big dope forgets the third word. He simply mumbles it, and the army of the deadites arises, including a resurrected and super-ugly Evil Ash. Evil Ash forms an army of darkness, and the war begins. Will Ash get home? Or will he fail miserably? It all depends on if you're watching the theatrical cut or the director's cut: they have different endings.

Personally, I prefer the director's cut. Some scenes make more sense with the deleted scenes reinstated. However, both versions are great, despite a lack of horror. This film is a total comedy. While The Evil Dead is a full-on horror film, and Evil Dead 2 is a horror/comedy, this one ditches all that legit horror stuff for over-the-top comedy. And if you ask me, it's Bruce Campbell's best movie to date. You might as well forget all the other actors in the movie, because the entire film is Bruce Campbell. If it had been any other actor, it just wouldn't be the same. If anybody wants to know why Bruce is one of my favorite actors, I present this movie as proof. His acting is so hammy, it doesn't stop being awesome.

This movie has it all. Chainsaws, shotguns, evil clones, an army of skeletons, a hot medieval babe, and a '73 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale. What's not to love?

Final Rating: *****

Evil Dead II (1987)

Outside of Morristown, Tennessee, in the winter of 1979, Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell would begin work on a film that would start them on a path to becoming B-movie icons: The Evil Dead. Shot over the course of several years on a shoestring budget, The Evil Dead wouldn't see any mainstream success, but it became a big success on the drive-in circuit and the burgeoning home video market. It was such a success, in fact, that the brains behind it saw fit to make a sequel, the appropriately titled Evil Dead II. One of the rare sequels that is genuinely better than its predecessor, Evil Dead II shows just what you can do with a low budget and a lot of passion.

We start with a recap of the original Evil Dead, though slightly retold. Ash (Bruce Campbell) and his girlfriend Linda (Denise Bixler) head to the abandoned cabin, discover the Necronomicon, and unleash the fury. Poor Linda loses her head over the matter, leaving Ash alone to his own devices as he slowly goes insane. But we can't have one guy all by himself for ninety minutes, can we? It would get boring after a while. What we need is some victims, and we get them.

At a random airport, Annie Knowby (Sarah Berry) gets off a plane carrying some missing pages from the Necronomicon, and she's picked up by Ed (Richard Donner). I think Ed might be her boyfriend, but they never really say. But it doesn't matter much, since he'll be a puddle of goo by the end of the movie. Anyway, they're heading to Annie's father's cabin, where he was translating the Necronomicon. You guessed it, Ash is gonna have some company. On the way, they meet Jake (Danny Hicks) and Bobbie Jo (Kassie Wesley), who are the biggest rednecks this side of Deliverance. The only difference, and a good one at that, is Jake and Bobbie Jo don't sodomize anybody. The bridge is out thanks to the evil dead demolition crew, so for the super-low price of a hundred bucks, Jake and Bobbie Jo agree to guide Annie and Ed to the cabin.

Meanwhile, things aren't going too well for Ash. Linda's severed head bites his hand, so he snaps and introduces Linda to the business end of a chainsaw. Unfortunately, the bite wound gets infected, and his hand becomes the tool of the devil. It starts beating Ash over the head with plates and beer bottles, then starts reaching for a meat cleaver. This doesn't sit too well with our hero, so he pins his hand to the floor with a knife and hacks the killer hand off at the wrist with his trusty chainsaw. And you know what he uses to take care of the wound? A dirty rag and duct tape. This is why the Evil Dead movies are so awesome, because Ash is hardcore.

Annie and the crew arrive at the cabin, see the bloody chainsaw, and notice that the Knowbys are missing. They put two and two together, and beat the snot out of Ash before throwing him into the basement. That's not good, because they discover that Mrs. Knowby was possessed by the monsters, and Mr. Knowby killed her and buried her in the basement. And wouldn't you know it, she pops up out of the ground and she's hungry for a fresh soul. Ash escapes from the basement, and the fun begins.

Evil Dead II is one of my all-time favorite movies. Why? How many other movies has a guy cut his hand off and attach a chainsaw to the stump? The movie's a great mix of horror and humor, and it's backed up by good acting (or in some scenes, so bad it's good) and a great script, as well as inventive camera angles and great effects (courtesy KNB EFX Group). If you ask me, Evil Dead II is light-years better than its predecessor. If you haven't seen it yet, why not?

Final Rating: ****

The Evil Dead (1981)

Of all the ways to describe movies out there in Hollywood, perhaps the most broad phrase is the "cult film." Cult films vary in genre and style, but they all have one common factor: a devoted following in spite of questionable mainstream notoriety. From movies as legendary as the Star Wars franchise to more underground movies like The Rocky Horror Picture Show and all movies in between, the cult movie is a type that can't truly be nailed down to just one style.

However, the overwhelming majority of them can be found in the horror genre. There are hundreds of horror movies that can be considered cult films, but one of the most unique is the debut film of director Sam Raimi and B-movie icon Bruce Campbell, The Evil Dead. Light on both plot and budget, the movie more than makes up with it with a frenetic energy that cements its reputation as a cult classic.

In the autumn of 1979, Ash (Bruce Campbell) and four friends head to an abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods outside Morristown, Tennessee. They go looking around the basement and discover a tape recorder, a huge knife that looks like it's made out of bones, and a hella-ugly book titled the "Necronomicon ex Mortis." They decide to play whatever's on the tape recorder, and it's the Book On Tape version of the Necronomicon. Curiosity didn't just kill the cat; it smacked it around, raped it with a tree, and skinned it alive. Why? It turns out the book is full of demon resurrection passages, and on that note, we cue the mayhem. The axe-swinging, shotgun-blasting, milk-puking mayhem. 

The Evil Dead is one of those movies that's really cheaply made and has cheesy acting, but it's gained a reputation as one of the definitive cult classics. What makes the biggest statement is that it became a classic despite the incredibly simple plot and cheap nature, and it launched the careers of Sam Raimi (who would eventually direct the Spider-Man movies) and Bruce Campbell, who would go on to become a B-movie legend.

As I said before, the acting isn't Oscar-caliber, but it's good for what it is. Considering the five actors are all amateurs, their lack of experience is excusable. Bruce Campbell is great in his first of three movies as the dim-witted Ash, and Betsy Baker, Rich Demanincor (credited as "Hal Delrich"), and Theresa Tilly (credited as "Sarah York") hand in watchable performances as Linda, Scotty, and Shelly, respectively. However, Ellen Sandweiss (who plays Ash's sister Cheryl) is just awful. Almost every time she's on screen, I hit the mute button on my TV, or fast-forward through the scene. No lie. Maybe there's a reason her acting career didn't exactly take off afterwards.

Luckily for the viewer, the movie as a whole is not as bad as Sandweiss's acting. It's not great, but it's good. Joe LoDuca's score is tense and haunting, and Tom Sullivan's make-up effects are brilliantly disgusting. Sam Raimi's direction is also tight, and the different angles we view the action from makes the movie even more frightening that it really is. Overall, I'll say the film is worth a watch. If you like low-budget splatter movies, you'll love it. Even if you don't like that particular genre, you might still like it.

Final Rating: ***½