Saw III (2006)

One of the most famous horror movie clichés is that the sinners always die first. Drink a beer, you're going to die. Smoke marijuana, you're going to die. Have sex, you're going to die. Be an all-around pain in the neck, you're gonna die. The "sinners die first" cliché has not usually been addressed outright in the past, but this changed when Lions Gate Films released the low-budget flick Saw two days before Halloween in 2004. The brainchild of Australian filmmakers James Wan and Leigh Whannell, Saw introduced the world to Jigsaw, an evil genius who places victims in intricate deathtraps to teach them about the value of human life.

The movie was a huge success, and twelve months later, a sequel hit theaters and achieved even more box office success than its predecessor. Someone at Lions Gate must have had the idea to keep the franchise going a Halloween tradition, as the third chapter of the Saw franchise saw its release on October 26, 2006. And I'm willing to bet that it is perhaps the most ambitious entry in the series.

Master manipulator John "Jigsaw" Kramer (Tobin Bell) is on his deathbed. Closer than ever to succumbing to the brain tumor that changed his life, he has time enough for one last game. Playing the game is Jeff Reinhart (Angus Macfayden), a man tormented by the memories of his eight-year-old son's tragic death and burning with an immeasurable hatred for the drunk driver that caused it and for those who let him get away with a mere slap on the wrist. It is this animosity that has caught Jigsaw's eye, and he has chosen Jeff as his newest guinea pig. Awaiting him in a veritable house of horrors are three tests that will challenge not his will to live, but his will to forgive.

To ensure her gravely ill mentor can see Jeff's adventure to its completion, Jigsaw's budding protégé Amanda (Shawnee Smith) kidnaps troubled yet talented surgeon Lynn Denlon (Bahar Soomekh) and orders her to help him. To ensure her cooperation, Amanda straps a collar rigged with shotgun shells around Lynn's neck. The collar is remotely connected to Jigsaw's heart rate monitor; if he flatlines or if Lynn moves outside of a certain range, the collar will activate and blow her face off. With no options, she is forced to do everything she can to make sure Jigsaw stays alive until his final game can be completed.

It should be stated that Saw III is without a doubt the best chapter in the Saw saga thus far. It is remarkably strong, thanks in large part to placing as much concentration on the development of its characters as it does the creative and deliciously nasty deathtraps that have become the franchise's hallmark. It helps that the movie also boasts tight direction, an extremely well-written script, and an amazing cast. Put it all together, and at the risk of sounding hyperbolic, it makes for one of the best genre entries in some time.

Let's hit the script first. Penned by Leigh Whannell, the screenplay is awesome. It has all of the twists and turns that fans of the series have come to expect, but it balances that with something resembling — gasp! — a soul. While the first two movies are dripping with misanthropy, Saw III actually has something to talk about. It is a tale of forgiveness and compassion, and although it is told with tremendous amounts of graphic violence, the message is there and the movie is better for it. Whannell's screenplay also focuses heavily on its four main characters, each intriguing in their own way.

The most developed and layered characters are Jigsaw and Amanda, who have evolved beyond their relatively minor appearances in the first film to become the franchise's most important characters. What makes Jigsaw — and by proxy the entire Saw franchise — special is that instead of being the traditionally sadistic villain with an insatiable bloodlust and a jet black heart, Jigsaw honestly does not wish death upon his victims. By his own admission in Saw III, he abhors murderers. He wants his victims to survive and become better people due to the hardships he puts them through. That gives Jigsaw a certain bizarre nobility that makes him stand out from his genre brethren. Take, for instance, the scene in which Lynn performs brain surgery on a half-conscious Jigsaw. For Jigsaw to agree to go through this surely painful procedure puts him on the same level as those he chooses to test. It makes him unlike nearly every other horror villain; it makes him human.

Amanda's story, from Jigsaw's victim to Jigsaw's apprentice, pushes forward as well. One could call her a victim of Stockholm Syndrome taken to an unconscionable degree. Jigsaw's trap for her saved her from her heroin addiction, and instead of intently following in his footsteps, she took a wrong turn somewhere. Amanda is a character full of anger and pain and contempt for others, and sees becoming the new Jigsaw not as a way to keep Jigsaw's philosophy going, but to inflict the pain inside her soul upon others. She's taken to cutting herself as a release from her problems, and a potential return to her addiction hangs above her head like a dark cloud. Amanda could have taken any path after surviving Jigsaw's game, but the one she has chosen is both frightening and heartbreaking.

Neither Jigsaw or Amanda reveal all the cards in their hands until the grand finale, and my, what a finale it is. One of the franchise's trademarks is the twist ending in each chapter, and Saw III's twist is the biggest yet. Whannell's screenplay wraps up nearly every loose end from the entire trilogy thus far in the movie's last five minutes, and brings the entire Saw universe full circle. We're given the broadest scope of Jigsaw's world yet, making the franchise is deeper because of it.

Up next is the direction by Darren Lynn Bousman. Working with cinematographer David Armstrong, Bousman's direction is excellently done. He utilizes some amazing scene transitions and maintains the franchise's traditional rapid-fire editing, while changing things up a little, as he incorporates a darker, gloomier atmosphere in the scenes with Jeff while using the franchise's usual bright lighting for Jigsaw's lair. Much of the movie also looks to have a very light, almost subliminal green tint, which I found to help quite a bit with establishing the proper atmosphere for the movie.

This ambiance is greatly assisted by the remarkable score composed by Charlie Clouser. I absolutely loved Clouser's music for the first two Saw movies, and he didn't let me down with Saw III. The score is very heavy, very industrial, and very befitting of the movie's tone. And I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the recurring reprisals of the "Zepp Overture," a piece of music from the first Saw that has essentially become the de facto theme song for the series. Clouser uses a few different versions of the song throughout the movie, each one used in a way that enhances the scenes they're featured in.

Last but not least, there's the cast. I found Bahar Soomekh to be off and on in her role, but Tobin Bell, Shawnee Smith, and Angus Macfayden are all amazing. Macfadyen's performance as Jeff, a father whose mourning of the past is ruining his present, is utterly sympathetic. The role is an emotional and heart-wrenching one, and Macfayden knocks it out of the park. And once again, both Bell and Smith, the glue that have held the entire series together, are nothing short of wonderful. I honestly cannot imagine anyone else in their roles. The character of Amanda is simultaneously strong and weak, forceful and vulnerable, and Smith's powerful performance reflects that. Smith balances Amanda's rage and fragility excellently, something that I feel strengthens the character.

Meanwhile, Bell still manages to be excellent while doing the bulk of his performance lying on his back. I stated above that Jigsaw is a very human villain, and I believe that what Bell brings a lot of that to the surface. He plays Jigsaw as someone who, despite being borderline helpless, is still very much trying to assert his control over his life's work even as chinks in his armor begin to appear.

This, along giving Jigsaw a reserved, almost accepting outlook on being faced with his own mortality, really made a difference on how I look at the character even in the prior two movies. If one looks at Jigsaw's evolution over the course of the series, from evil genius to puppet master to a man in the twilight of his life, you see how even though he may be going about it a way most people wouldn't dream of, Jigsaw is a man who wants to make a difference in the world. But while Jigsaw has evolved, the constant has been Bell's respectable performances. As I said, Bell and Smith are the glue that holds the Saw movies together, and I believe that to be the truth.

Critics have dismissed Saw III as just another mindless gorefest organized to simply gross people out. But did those people watch the same movie I did? While I will readily admit that Saw III is not for the squeamish, there's more to it than gallons of fake gore. It's a story that forgiveness is divine, and that nursing the grudges you have against your fellow man will ultimately come back to burn you.

I'm sure that as long as the series makes money, Lions Gate won't hesitate to annually make a Saw movie until they reach Saw 37: Jigsaw in Space. But if it were to stop with Saw III, I think the story would be wrapped up nicely. Saw III would be a more-than-satisfying ending to a trilogy that's become a horror classic for the twenty-first century. And I think it earns four stars and a strong recommendation to check out the entire Saw series. Go check 'em out.

Final Rating: ****

Slither (2006)

One of my favorite movies of all time is the 1986 horror/comedy film Night of the Creeps. Directed by RoboCop 3 helmsman Fred Dekker and starring Tom Atkins (who you may recognize from such films as Escape From New York and Halloween III: Season of the Witch), Night of the Creeps told the story of alien slugs that come to Earth and turn their unfortunate victims into zombies. I absolutely love Night of the Creeps, primarily because I think it is representative of nearly everything I love in silly B-grade horror movies. It doesn't take itself seriously, and it's obvious that everyone involved with the movie's production are having the time of their lives doing it.

That's why I was so excited when Universal Pictures released Slither five months shy of the twentieth anniversary of Night of the Creeps. A comedic blend of '50s alien invasion movies and the "body horror" concept popularized by movies such as David Cronenberg's Shivers, Slither could very much be construed as a spiritual cousin of Night of the Creeps. And it's pretty entertaining to boot.

Our tale of terror centers around the sleepy little town of Wheelsy, South Carolina. Life moves slowly in Wheelsy, to the point that the opening of deer hunting season is worthy of a wild party at the local tavern, and the only source of entertainment for Wheelsy's bored police force is clocking how fast birds fly. And as we all know, sleepy little towns always end up being the location of boatloads of bad things.

When one of the town's wealthiest citizens, Grant Grant (Michael Rooker), contracts what appears to be a bizarre disease, Wheelsy is soon thereafter beset upon by various unusual occurrences. A number of disappearances are reported, starting with family pets before escalating to livestock and culminating with a young woman named Brenda Gutierrez (Brenda James); all of them are somehow connected to Grant.

The disappearances don't really bother Grant's wife Starla (Elizabeth Banks) until she begins noticing how much her husband has changed. Beyond his worsening physical condition and the bizarre infection spreading across his chest, Grant has been quite unlike himself. He conducts suspicious, secretive business behind the padlocked basement door, his behavior is erratic, and he has developed a voracious appetite for red meat.

It isn't until local sheriff Bill Pardy (Nathan Fillion) and deputy Wally Whale (Don Thompson) inform her that someone resembling Grant was seen entering Brenda's house the night she disappeared that Starla decides to put her foot down. She breaks down the basement door and discovers exactly what Grant's been up to: he's been building a nest and populating it with the dead bodies of all the missing pets from the neighborhood. She tries calling Bill to inform him of her discovery only to be interrupted by Grant, who tries strangling her with a left arm that has now become an elongated tentacle. Bill, Wally, and the entire police force arrive just in time, kicking in the door and scaring Grant away.

Three days pass. Grant has left a string of animal thefts and mutilations on farms across the edge of town, and the police are hot on his trail. Bill and his posse, along with Starla and Wheelsy's foul-mouthed mayor Jack MacReady (Gregg Henry), conduct a stakeout at the next farm they believe he'll hit. But when they find him, he's become a hideously deformed monster. They chase him to an abandoned barn in the middle of the woods, only to discover what exactly happened to Brenda Gutierrez. Turns out Grant chained her up in the barn and turned her into something resembling a human hot air balloon.

As Bill tries to calm her down, Brenda begins to violently tremble before she bursts open, pouring out thousands of disgusting slugs. And these icky little buggers aren't to be trifled with, as they're capable of leeching onto all forms of sentient life and turning them into acid-spitting zombies connected to Grant through a hive mind relationship. Bill, Starla, Jack, and another survivor, Kylie Strutemyer (Tania Saulnier), realize that killing Grant will end the alien plague, but to do that, they have to make sure they don't fall victim to either the slugs or the zombies they control.

Slither was less than successful during its theatrical run, pulling in a worldwide gross of right around twelve million dollars. Perhaps that's because horror/comedies are a rather tough sale. A lot of people don't want to laugh while they're being scared, and others don't want to be scared while they're laughing. That's a real shame, because Slither is a damn good movie. It is definitely made with passion, by people who believed in the material and wanted to make the best movie possible. And while the movie is not perfect, I believe that it's definitely heading in the right direction on the path to achieving status as a cult classic.

The movie marks the directorial debut of James Gunn, who has gained some prominence as a screenwriter via a colorful résumé that includes the live-action Scooby-Doo movies, the remake of Dawn of the Dead, and legendary low-budget studio Troma Entertainment's Tromeo and Juliet. He stays true to his Troma roots with Slither, presenting us with a movie that doesn't take itself too seriously and is far better for it. Both Gunn's direction and his screenplay have all the wacky over-the-top hallmarks of the greatest Troma movies. The script has some killer dialogue and a number of moments that are humorous and frightening, and for a first-time director, Gunn proves himself quite capable of crafting a movie worth seeing.

Take, for example, the scene in which Grant attacks Brenda with the tentacles growing from his chest. As we see this violent quasi-rape go down, we are also privy to Wheelsy's big party commemorating the beginning of deer hunting season. Gunn makes Grant's attack that much more disturbing by overlaying these scenes of horror with scenes of humor. There's also a rather subtle subtext going on during the scene too. While we see the attack go down, we hear Mayor MacReady at the party making a humorous speech about mankind's dominance over its prey before beginning a countdown to officially start the hunt. While it may have been a start for humans hunting deer, the way it's edited also sets it up as the alien slugs declaring open season on the human race as well. It's a subtext that isn't really dwelled upon, but really emphasizes Slither's horror nature.

Gunn's direction is assisted by the fantastic score composed by Tyler Bates. It appears as if Bates has slowly been developing a reputation as being the "go to" guy for horror movie soundtracks, with his résumé including movies like The Devil's Rejects, See No Evil, and the aforementioned Dawn of the Dead remake. His music for those movies were fantastic, and Slither is no exception. Bates's work here is wonderful, matching both the humor and the terror scene for scene. The score never becomes overbearing or invasive, and it supports the movie well.

But perhaps the most impressive of all is the cast. Despite spending the majority of the movie buried beneath pounds of latex makeup, Michael Rooker turns in a wonderful performance that is both funny and sympathetic. Elizabeth Banks is great as well, even though it seems like her role wasn't a very demanding one. No knock against her or anything, but I just got the feeling that there wasn't a whole lot asked of Banks.

However, the best parts of the entire cast were the thoroughly amusing performances by Nathan Fillion and Gregg Henry. Fillion's deadpan delivery is absolutely hilarious, as is Henry's performance. Henry is obviously having a lot of fun playing the part of a total sleazebag. I point to his rant about not having any of his favorite soft drink after the first appearance of the slugs. Henry's delivery shows an understanding that the movie is a tongue-in-cheek affair, and that makes both his performance and the character much more entertaining.

Slither is of a dying breed, a horror film wearing an irreverent sense of humor on its sleeve. And as I said above, its failure at the box office is disappointing when you consider just how good it is. Though I will admit that Slither will not satisfy everyone, those that appreciate films of this ilk will enjoy it. James Gunn, the cast, and the crew should be proud of themselves for creating an original film in a genre that in recent years has been overrun with sequels and remakes. And because of both its originality and its quality, I'll give Slither a strong four stars and a recommendation to check it out.

Final Rating: ****

Snakes on a Plane (2006)

All the way back in 1999, a little film titled The Blair Witch Project entered into the public consciousness. It amassed a sizable cult following even before its release via its website, and thanks to the vast word-of-mouth that it garnered, The Blair Witch Project became one of the highest grossing — and most parodied — movies of the year. Seven years later, New Line Cinema attempted to duplicate that success with their high concept movie Snakes on a Plane.

And oh boy, did Snakes on a Plane take off. Even before the movie was released, its title alone brought the movie all kinds of recognition online, from websites selling T-shirts and other trinkets bearing the movie's name, to dozens of blogs following the production's progress, to homemade parodies and music videos on YouTube. If you were online at any point during 2006, you'd probably heard of Snakes on a Plane. The movie's strong online following even convinced the filmmakers to do a week's worth of reshoots to earn the movie an R-rating and incorporate material from the more popular parodies. The movie had all the makings of a modern cult classic before it was even released, but was it worth it? Let's find out.

After he witnesses powerful mobster Eddie Kim (Byron Lawson) brutally murder a prosecutor, Sean Jones (Nathan Phillips) is convinced by FBI agents Neville Flynn (Samuel L. Jackson) and John Sanders (Mark Houghton) to testify against Kim at his trial in Los Angeles. The three take a red eye flight from Honolulu to Los Angeles, taking over the entire first class section for extra security, much to the chagrin of the various passengers that are bumped down to coach to accommodate them.

But despite all precautions, Kim has managed to get time-released crates loaded with venomous snakes into the plane's cargo hold. And just to make sure that the snakes are going to be extra vicious, the leis given to the passengers during boarding have been secretly sprayed with pheromones to make them more aggressive. The crate opens up 30,000 feet in the air, and those not killed by the snakes are forced to band together to survive and get to their destination safely.

Snakes on a Plane is one of those movies that are absolutely critic-proof. It doesn't really matter what Roger Ebert or Leonard Maltin or any other reviewer thinks about this movie, since the title alone is enough to form one's opinion of it before you plunk down the money to watch it. Just read the title. Come on, read it. "Snakes on a Plane." Just reading that alone, you're either going to believe that this is a laughably ludicrous concept and skip it, or something that you're going to want to watch and have a fun time doing so. The movie is an unabashed attempt at making a mainstream B-movie, and it never once hides the fact that it is what it is. Most movies try to be profound or heartwarming or some other kind of artsy-fartsy crap, but Snakes on a Plane remembers that a movie should be first and foremost entertaining. And I believe it succeeds.

With Final Destination 2 on his résumé, director David R. Ellis is no stranger to this kind of outrageous mayhem. And while I don't believe his work here will win any awards, it's certainly competent and effective on more than one occasion. Ellis, teaming with cinematographer Adam Greenberg, does what he can to make the movie look as exciting as possible in spite of the cramped sets. While the editing perhaps isn't as tight as it could have been, there's great camera angles and movements, and I liked the fun "SnakeVision" point-of-view shots. Ellis thankfully does not overuse the SnakeVision gimmick, but their appearances do flow perfectly with the tone the movie sets. Ellis's direction is enhanced by Trevor Rabin's score, which is never distracting, but suits the movie perfectly.

And then there's the script. Penned by John Heffernan and Sebastian Gutierrez, the script hits pretty much every action movie standard it possibly can while still managing to be extremely entertaining. It is amazing how much Heffernan and Gutierrez's screenplay accomplishes with so little. I mean, that's possibly the shortest plot synopsis I've ever written. If you expected a longer one, you've misunderstood the simplicity of the movie.

Really, the title is all you need to know. There are snakes on a plane. In fact, that synopsis is probably longer than it could have been. It could have been just one sentence. Maybe something like, "Sam Jackson fights snakes on a plane." That sums up the whole thing, doesn't it? With that in mind, it doesn't really matter that the movie is full of clichés and silly dialogue, or that the characters are generic stock characters, because the script takes those potential problems and makes them fun to watch.

Last but not least, there's the cast. None of them take it all that seriously, which makes the movie that much better. And I'm going to come right out and say it: the only member of the cast that matters is Samuel L. Jackson. Really, he's the only one worth talking about. While Nathan Phillips and Julianna Marguiles are acceptable, and Kenan Thompson and Rick Koechner are extremely funny, none of them are as awesome as Jackson. You can look at him and tell he's having the absolute time of his life. He's readily admitted in the past that he only agreed to do the movie because he liked the title, and even threatened to quit if they changed it. But Jackson takes the material and runs with it. Jackson is a total bad-ass here, dropping F-bombs and zapping snakes with a stun gun like he was king of the world. Anyone in need of proof regarding just how awesome Samuel L. Jackson only needs to rent Snakes on a Plane. He is this movie.

This combination of aviophobia and opidiophobia — or as one online reviewer succinctly put it, this blend of Anaconda and Passenger 57 — makes for a movie that has to be one of the most entertaining films of 2006. Snakes on a Plane might not have been the biggest hit it could have been, especially with all the hype. But I do think that the movie's target audience will turn it into a bona fide cult classic with time. With a name like that, it's inevitable. The cast and crew obviously had fun making the movie, and as long as you're not deathly afraid of CGI snakes, I think you'll have fun watching it. Snakes on a Plane gets three and a half stars, leaning towards four. Now it's time to bring on more "animals on transportation" movies.

Final Rating: ***½

BloodRayne (2006)

Films based on video games have a pre-established reputation as very rarely reaching above mediocrity, with the vast majority of them being uncompromisingly bad. Not helping the stereotype is German director Uwe Boll. A "filmmaker" in the loosest sense of the word, Boll has gained some form of infamy for his involvement with two of this decade's most reviled films, House of the Dead and Alone in the Dark. Both were adaptations of video games, both crashed and burned at the box office, both were atrociously bad. I mean, they were so bad that they make those crappy Sci-Fi Channel original movies look good by comparison.

But I assume that poor box office income and horrendous critical reactions don't matter much to Boll, who ventured into the world of video games a third time with his acculturation of BloodRayne. Based on the horror game franchise developed by Terminal Reality and released by Majestic Games, the movie is nothing short of a great big suckburger with a side of suck fries and topped off with a tall glass of Suck Cola.

The story opens in Romania sometime in the eighteenth century, where we are introduced to a trio of vampire hunters that are part of a secret society dubbed the Brimstone Society. The three — Vladimir (Michael Madsen), Sebastian (Matt Davis), and Katarin (Michelle Rodriguez) — stroll into a pub looking for information on a certain someone they believe to be in the area. And apparently, the killing of vampires is quite commonplace, as nobody bothers to even look up when Sebastian stakes a vampire at the bar. Perhaps this particular town is a medieval version of Sunnydale from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer series. So anyway, there's these three vampire hunters looking for somebody, and they find her location.

Their quarry is the main attraction of the local carnival's freak show, a grossly mistreated young woman named Rayne (Kristanna Loken). Dragged into the freak show by chains, her right arm is sliced up pretty bad, while her left arm is dunked in a barrel of water that badly burns her. One of the carnies kills a goat and pours its blood into a cup, and upon giving Rayne a sip of the red stuff, her injuries immediately heal. She's led back to her cage after the show and locked up tightly.

That evening, she's approached by a fellow carny named Amanda (Madalina Constantin), who tells Rayne that she's formulated a brilliant plan to get them away from their horrible lives with the carnival. And I mean, this plan is absolutely ingenious. It's the most brilliant plan ever conceived by anyone. Not even the A-Team could come up with a plan this amazing and with this much potential for success. Not even The Great Escape had an escape plan this impressive. And because not even a simple summary could do it justice, I must quote the dialogue verbatim:

"My uncle, he's a sailor. And he once told me of a place where people play all day, and the trees grow fruits in every color of the rainbow. And the sunsets set the whole sky on fire. Doesn't that sound wonderful, Rayne? He'll send for us soon, I know it."

Why don't we point out all the things that are wrong with that plan? What really gets me is that "play all day" thing. Why not just add that after they get done playing all day, they're going to ride unicorns over lollipop rainbows and sleep on bubblegum clouds? I'm going to assume that the character was written for a six-year-old, and Madalina Constantin — who is very much an adult — was all they could get. If they wanted to keep the line like that, couldn't they have just brought in a kid for a couple of hours to shoot this one scene? Because it would have made more sense coming out of a child.

And another thing: Is that even really a plan at all? It doesn't look like a plan. It looks more like some major wishful thinking. Because if that is a plan, then it's pretty doggone flimsy. So anyway, Amanda gets that out, then tosses Rayne a crucifix necklace for good luck before bidding her adieu for the evening.

Even later that night, the carnival's strongman (T.J. Storm) lets himself into her cage and tries to get himself a little lovin' by force. She's in no mood to be raped, so she shatters a bottle over his noggin and cuts him up good. Some of his blood drips onto her face, and as she tastes it, she goes absolutely insane. Rayne starts running around, biting the necks of anybody that gets in her way, and she even bites Amanda before she can realize who she is. And once she does notice who she just bit, what does Rayne do? She just takes the fancy swords Amanda was carrying and runs away. Some friend she is.

Vladimir, Sebastian, and Katarin stumble upon what's left of the carnival the following morning. Knowing what they have to do, they start decapitating and burning every lifeless body they come across, while Amanda manages to explain what happened before they're forced to put her down too. Night falls, and Rayne stops and kills two vampires she catches attacking a caravan, even going as far as to drink their blood. The caravan gives her a ride to the nearest city, which appears to have a rather sizable vampire population. Rayne pulls a vampire hooker aside and sucks her blood for God and everybody to see, and the only people that care are these two thieves that pick the dead vampire's pockets, and a nearby fortune teller (Geraldine Chapman) that watches what happens intently.

The fortune teller captures Rayne's attention, telling Rayne her purpose and future through her deck of tarot cards. Y'see, Rayne is a dhampir, the result of her human mother (Daniela Nane) being raped and impregnated by Kagan (Ben Kingsley), the most powerful vampire on Earth. Due to her mixed heritage, she retains all of their strengths and their unfavorable reaction to water of any kind, while possessing none of their other weaknesses. So that explains why the crucifix around her neck doesn't bug her.

The fortune teller knows of Rayne's quest to avenge her mother's murder at the hands of Kagan (which the five-year-old Rayne witnessed), and tells her of a magical eye that, if she can possess it, will gain her an audience with Kagan so she may fulfill her quest. The entire conversation is overheard by a vampire, who relays the message to Kagan. So what does Kagan do? He sends his chief lieutenant Domastir (Will Sanderson) to lead an army after the eye as well.

Rayne leaves, eventually arriving at a monastery seeking food and shelter. The monks gladly let her in, and not too long afterwards, she sneaks into the monastery's basement to retrieve the eye. How she knew where in the monastery it was, I have no idea. But regardless, getting the eye is not going to be a cakewalk for Rayne. Once she gets down into the basement, she discovers a sleeping ogre holding the key to the chamber the eye is in. She dispatches the ogre in a relatively easy fight, but there's one more step in her way: the large whirring blades that pop out of the chamber's floor on a regular interval. But it's not so bad; a simple cartwheel across the room gets Rayne past them. She goes for the box containing the eye, at which point a torrent of water starts flooding the room.

Since Rayne would rather not be burned, she jumps and hangs from one of her swords that she had previously embedded in the ceiling. The box opens and the eye starts to fall out, but when Rayne catches it with a free hand, she gets a really good look at it and somehow absorbs it. She loses her grip on the sword and falls into the ankle-deep pool of water beneath her, and when a few drops of water splash onto her arm... nothing happens. I guess they really weren't kidding about it being a magical eye after all.

Just as she realizes that the water hasn't affected her, some priests bust in and start reading her the riot act. Okay, that's probably an exaggeration, since the main priest (Udo Kier) doesn't seem too angry or upset that Rayne just killed their ogre and stole the eye. I mean, good ogre guards and disembodied magical eyes are pretty hard to come by. Believe me, I've tried to track some down, and I haven't had any luck yet. The priest's main concern seems to be if Rayne is in the employment of Kagan. She assures him that she's not working for him, as the priest explains just why that eye is so special.

Turns out there was this ancient vampire named Beliar that had figured out a way to overcome the three main vampire weaknesses. When he was finally defeated, three body parts — one of his eyes, one of his ribs, and his heart — were separated and divided among three remote locations to prevent other vampires from using them for their own gain. So the priest doesn't trust even a half-vampire with the eye, so he's kinda gonna need it back just to be on the safe side. But as always, things just aren't that easy.

Domastir and his crew arrive at the monastery, the Brimstone Society hot on their heels. A bloody battle ensues between Domastir's guys, the Society, and the monks, and in the chaos, Domastir knocks out Rayne and leaves with her. Vladimir and Sebastian trail him, catching up to him that morning at a castle called home by hedonistic vampire Leonid (Meat Loaf). Domastir is just looking for a place to crash for the afternoon, but his host is more interested in making Rayne part of his harem. Leonid is so into Rayne that he just has Domastir thrown out when he tries to warn him of Rayne's toughness. Before he can start putting the moves on the unconscious dhampir, Vladimir and Sebastian bust in and slay Leonid.

They take Rayne back to their hidden lair, where they train her in proper vamp-killing methods before Domastir and a bunch more goons find them and start raising some hell. And I know I said it was a hidden lair, but it doesn't really stay hidden if a certain someone would have kept her mouth shut. Turns out the newly-vampired Katarin sold them out with the intention of giving the three vampire parts to her father (Billy Zane), who seeks to overthrow Kagan (who has already obtained the rib through unseen, untold means). Rayne takes out Katarin and obtains the heart, and with Vladimir and Sebastian in tow, she heads for Kagan's castle to obtain her revenge.

I'm not going to lie: I really don't want to write this review. The quicker I can wipe my hands of BloodRayne, the better. It's so awful, I think it gave me cancer. And as you can probably guess, the movie was a financial disaster. It played in only 985 American theaters, pulling in a paltry 2.4 million dollars during a theatrical run that lasted two weeks. So if the movie was meant to be a flop, it certainly succeeded.

But even if BloodRayne played in every single theater in the United States for six months, it still would have been a bomb. And why is that? Because everything about it is horrendously bad. The direction, the script, the acting, the music, the effects, the set design, the props, everything. And I'm going to come right out and say that everyone involved with this cinematic bowel movement should be ashamed of themselves for participating in this crime against humanity.

First up, the screenplay penned by Guinevere Turner. How she went from writing the brilliant movie adaptation of American Psycho to writing this, I have no idea. Turner's screenplay could not make less sense. It's so convoluted, so confusing, so absurd that it took me three days to figure out how to properly write that synopsis up there. It's like they stuck a bunch of chimpanzees in a room with a typewriter for six hours, then slapped Turner's name on what the monkeys churned out.

But let's get to some specific complaints. There's that silly "play all day" bit, along with all the other hackneyed dialogue. There's also the out-of-place Billy Zane subplot that accomplishes nothing and ultimately goes nowhere. If it had been properly written and fleshed out, then it could have made for something interesting. But no, we can't let a Uwe Boll movie be any good, so this subplot only leads to a twist that offends the intelligence of everyone who sees it.

I also wonder about that whole pointless thing with the eye, rib, and heart. To my understanding, it was inspired by the first BloodRayne game, but it had a logical conclusion there. And as we all know, we can't have logic or even common sense in a Uwe Boll movie. Couldn't they have just made it a simple quest for revenge, as opposed to a quest for these silly little things that ends up weighing the whole movie down?

Going back to the topic of insulting the intelligence of the viewers, why is just plain ol' everyday water such a big deal with vampires? Holy water, I would believe. But vampires not exactly enjoying regular water is absurd. The legion of the undead could be wiped out by a freak rainstorm or blizzard, or even a thick fog. And last I checked, blood is at least ninety percent water, so why isn't that a drawback? If this is another one of those things that are drawn from the games, then it just makes the games look stupid too.

And then there's the lame effects. Yes, I know that geysers of blood shoot out of every victim in the BloodRayne games, but it looks corny and derivative in here. Besides, the effects look awfully cheap too. Rayne's vampire teeth look like oversized plastic dentures at times, and you could probably see better blood and gore effects in a middle-school production of Sweeney Todd. The music composed by Henning Lohner is also disappointing, as I got the feeling that it was attempting to make up for the complete and total lack of emotion in the acting and the direction. Lohner's score wouldn't have been so bad had it not been trying so hard, but due to that, it suffers.

While we're at it, how about that cast? I pity every person forced to be in front of the camera, even the cheap Romanian prostitutes in Meat Loaf's scene. It appears that Michael Madsen, Ben Kingsley, Billy Zane, Udo Kier, and Meat Loaf all realized how awful the movie is. I say this because Madsen's performance alternates between exhibiting boredom and exhibiting total apathy toward the entire production, while the others completely ham it up and do what they can to make the horrible material look worthwhile.

I've read that Madsen may or may not have been drunk during nearly all of his scenes, and I can't really say as I blame him. I don't drink, but I'd chug a whole brewery if I had the unfortunate luck of starring in a Uwe Boll movie. And if I were Madsen, I would have myself surgically attached to Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez, just so to avoid doing any more horrible movies like this one.

The rest of the cast, though, appear to be taking the whole thing seriously. And to that, I ask why. If the entire cast had treated the whole thing like it was an episode of the old Batman TV show from the '60s, then BloodRayne might have ventured into "so bad, it's good" territory. But unfortunately, we're stuck with this crap.

Seriously, the performances contributed by Kristanna Loken and Michelle Rodriguez might not have been so bad had the material been better and if there had been a talented director to motivate them. But the fact that they treat this stuff as if it were Shakespeare really makes them look bad. I should also note that I like Rodriguez, I really do, but she doesn't exactly strike me as being the right person for the role. Her character is supposed to be Zane's daughter, but it's odd when you consider that Zane's only twelve years older than her. Add to the fact that they look absolutely nothing alike, and having them play father and daughter doesn't make a whole lot of sense. But nothing about the plot makes any sense, so why should the casting make any sense either?

And last but most certainly least is the captain of this sinking ship, the one and only Uwe Boll. No matter how bad any director may be, he or she can at least take comfort in the knowledge that they're not Uwe Boll. He obviously cannot get decent performances out of his cast, no matter what kind of talent they may have, and anything decent about BloodRayne's look could only be attributed to decent camerawork from cinematographer Mathias Neumann. Boll's dramatic scenes are laughable, his humorous scenes are lame, his action scenes look really bad, and the sex scene is awkward and out of place.

Let's talk about that sex scene for a second. If Boll is anything, he's the king of the badly-done sex scene. I thought Christian Slater and Tara Reid's romantic interlude in Alone in the Dark was bad, but it was only the tip of the iceberg. Loken and Davis have no romantic chemistry whatsoever; they didn't even seem like there's any sort of feelings between them at all. But then, out of nowhere, she's got him pinned up against a jail cell door screwing his brains out. The scene lacks any kind of passion, and since we don't care about the characters, we don't care about the scene.

I have two theories about this, actually. One is that all of the "budding romance" scenes were left on the cutting room floor. The other is that Boll simply wanted a reason to see Loken topless. As a red-blooded heterosexual male, I can't say I fault him for that one if that's true. Either way, Boll's managed to craft one of the least-sexy sex scenes ever, and how he did it is beyond me.

Boll's action scenes are also pretty bad. The swords look like cheap plastic at times, and like cardboard covered in tinfoil at other times. The scenes are poorly edited as well, and the choreography could have been a lot better. The majority of the fights had the appearance of either being improvised on the spot, or that the participants had simply been told to just walk around and swing at one another.

And in one of the most bizarre mistakes with the movie, there's this completely pointless montage at the end of the movie. It's just a bunch of random shots thrown together for no good reason, and it causes the credits to roll three minutes later than they should have. It's like Boll said, "Okay, guys, we're going to cobble together a bunch of stuff that the viewers have already seen and hated the first time, but I'm sure they'll love it when they see it a second time." Screw that. And screw this entire movie too.

In my review of House of the Dead, I compared Boll's movies to those of Ed Wood. But in retrospect, I probably shouldn't insult Wood like that. He might not have made the best movies ever, but at least he was passionate about filmmaking. Wood's films are far more entertaining than they have any right to be, and you can tell simply by watching them that he loved making movies no matter what. And for that, I have the utmost respect for Wood and his body of work. Boll's work has no passion, no self-enthusiasm, and they just make him look like he's out to make a few bucks by exploiting a German tax shelter that rewards those who invest in poorly-performing movies.

The thing that gets me is that instead of admitting that these horrible films are his own fault, he blames everything on reviewers and audiences that are supposedly too stupid to understand that his movies are awe-inspiring classics along the lines of Casablanca and Gone with the Wind. It's that kind of bloated egotism that makes me long for the day that Uwe Boll and his horrible, offensively bad movies fall off the face of the earth forever and make the cinematic world a far better place. 

Final Rating: *

A Christmas Story (1983)

Christmas movies are a dime a dozen. By my count, there's somewhere around ninety movies that involve the holiday season in some fashion. And everyone has their favorite, too. Some choose the traditional classics like It's A Wonderful Life or Miracle on 34th Street, while others go for one of the million versions of Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol. But more than a few people go for Christmas movies that are a little more off-kilter like National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, or even Die Hard and Gremlins. But one Christmas movie that I believe just about everybody can agree on is A Christmas Story.

A Christmas Story is one of those rare films that holds both a devoted cult following as well as a spot on the colorful list of timeless movies that everyone can enjoy. Watching it has become something of an annual Christmas tradition for this reviewer, so let's see what makes A Christmas Story so special.

It's Christmastime in Indiana circa the pre-WW2 1940s, and all Ralphie Parker (Peter Billingsley) wants to find under the tree on the big day is a BB gun. Not just any BB gun, but — as he describes it — "an official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot, range model air rifle, with a compass in the stock and this thing which tells time." This weapon of choice is the center of Ralphie's world, and despite every adult in his life being absolutely convinced that he'll shoot his eye out, Ralphie will go to any lengths to acquire it. He'll hide newspaper advertisements where his parents are sure to see them, make up wild stories about grizzly bears being spotted in the area, write an essay about it in school, blatantly state his desire for it to anyone who will listen, and as a last ditch effort, stand in line for hours just to ask an impatient department store Santa Claus for the BB gun.

But little does Ralphie realize that in the midst of his obsessive quest for the holiday Holy Grail, he's having the best Christmas of his young life. His curmudgeonly father (Darren McGavin) engages in battles of epic proportion the family's bothersome furnace, loathes the army of at least 785 smelly hound dogs owned by the family's hillbilly neighbors, and wins what he calls a "major award" — an absolutely hideous lamp shaped like a woman's leg. Ralphie's mother (Melinda Dillon) struggles to get his goofy little brother Randy (Ian Petrella) to eat like a normal kid, while simultaneously trying to hide her extreme mortification with her husband's major award. And over the course of this particular Christmas, Ralphie learns that triple dog dares and the "F-dash-dash-dash" word are nothing to be toyed with, that Ovaltine may be sneaking lame advertisements into Little Orphan Annie broadcasts through secret decoder pins, and that local bully Scut Farkus (Zack Ward) may not be as tough as he seems.

One of the reasons A Christmas Story is so wonderful is its innocence. It captures a time when Christmas defined everything that was great about childhood. There's also the nostalgia factor, as well. Almost every single one of us has been in Ralphie's shoes on one Christmas or another, wishing upon a star for that one present that would solve all of the world's problems. And there really is a lot of Ralphie in all of us. From his family and friends, to his experiences in school, to his silly, almost outrageous fantasies, we've all been there before. The movie isn't preachy, it isn't heavy-handed, it simply is what it is: a movie for kids and kids at heart.

Director Bob Clark is no stranger to Christmas movies, having previously helmed the 1974 horror classic Black Christmas, and his work here on A Christmas Story is inoffensive. It isn't revolutionary, but Clark's direction does give the movie a certain nostalgic feel necessary to make it work. Meanwhile, the score composed by Carl Zittrer and Paul Zaza is fun, bringing the viewers into each moment with a sense of childlike glee. But where the movie really shines, however, is its screenplay and its cast. Drawing inspiration from Jean Shepherd's anecdotal short story collection In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash, the screenplay penned by Shepherd, Clark, and Leigh Brown is hilarious. It never once loses us or insults our intelligence. We can see glimpses into our own lives with these characters. We know people like them, or in some instances, we are people like them.

This is reinforced by the absolutely wonderful cast. Everyone in the movie is on their A-game. Peter Billingsley is engaging and entertaining as Ralphie, a typically impetuous kid that thinks his harebrained schemes can outwit any adult. Everybody's been there before, which makes both Billingsley and the character itself that much more exceptional. Jean Shepherd himself enhances Billingsly's performance, narrating as an adult Ralphie in a style later borrowed by The Wonder Years. (Sadly, there is no Winnie Cooper to be found in A Christmas Story.) Shepherd's sardonic narration adds to the movie's fun, giving it an air of an adult reminiscing over "the good ol' days" while comically making the smallest of events sound as epic as Homer's Odyssey. Ian Petrella is fun as Ralphie's little brother Randy, and the rest of the cast is great in their own ways, but perhaps the best performances in the movie come from Ralphie's parents, Darren McGavin and Melinda Dillon.

Their characters are the complete polar opposites of one another, which only serves to make their performances even more amusing to watch. McGavin approaches "the old man" (as the adult Ralphie is wont to call him) as a gruff Mr. Fixit type that earnestly loves his children, but seems more at home changing a tire or working on the house's furnace than he is showing affection. Dillon, however, plays Mrs. Parker as the typical kind of mother that's in charge of the things that don't fall into the father's jurisdiction. Which means that while the old man makes sure there's a roof over their heads, Mom will take care of everything else. Mrs. Parker is a little overprotective — she's the first one to warn Ralphie that he'll shoot his eye out, she bundles up Randy so tightly that he can barely move — but Dillon's performance is full of warmth, which greatly ups the quality of the character. Their performances are charming and hilarious, which I found to be evidenced in one particular moment. After the old man's "major award" is accidentally shattered, he desperately tries to piece it back together by any means he can. While he makes his failed attempt, his wife merely sits in the background, trying to keep from giggling. It's a scene that seems to sum up their entire relationship, and McGavin and Dillon play the scene perfectly.

I've seen A Christmas Story described as "the Seinfeld of Christmas movies," and I like that label. I think that could be the reason why the movie is continually brought up as a prime example of a great Christmas movie. It doesn't seem like there's much of a plot in the conventional sense, but A Christmas Story never once tries to be more than a story about a ten-year-old boy's Christmas, and I believe it did a great job at that. And I dare any movie nowadays to try and get away with bits like that Chinese restaurant scene. It just couldn't be done anywhere but the '80s.

Final Rating: ****½