Film Review: THE DELTA FORCE (1986, Menahem Golan)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 129 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Lee Marvin, Chuck Norris, Martin Balsam (DEATH WISH 3, PSYCHO), Susan Strasberg (THE MANITOU), Shelly Winters, George Kennedy, Robert Forster, Bo Svenson (INGLORIOUS BASTARDS, HEARTBREAK RIDGE), Kim Delaney (BODY PARTS, HUNTER'S BLOOD), Hanna Schygulla (THE MARRIAGE OF MARIA BRAUN), Joey Bishop (OCEAN'S ELEVEN, VALLEY OF THE DOLLS). Music by Alan Silvestri.
Tag-line: "They don't negotiate with terrorists... they blow them away!"
Best one-liner: "Sleep tight, sucker!"

As Paula Abdul and that cartoon cat so eloquently pontificated, 'opposites attract.' Here, we got Lee Marvin:

Anti-war. Voted for McGovern. Has a Purple Heart. Frequently drunk on set.

Then, Chuck Norris:

Further to the right than the Unabomber. Can spin-kick people in the mouth using techniques from 8 different disciplines. Openly secessionist.

Well, together, they're THE DELTA FORCE.


Well, them and about 40 other dudes, but none of them really matter, except for Steve James. They're coming together to put the hurt on some airliner-hijacking, eyeliner-wearing terrorists led by Robert "this is your new Captain speaking" Forster.

Forster (right) is a force of nature.

The whole thing is accompanied by music that can only be described as über-patriotic Bananarama, and is overseen by those Israeli gods of 80's genre filmmaking, Golan and Globus.

Clearly, they thought this was gonna be their AIRPORT, and it's filled to the brim with old Hollywood and international stars: priestly hardass George Kennedy (who, sadly, punches no one):

gruff pilot Bo Svenson, Holocaust survivor Martin Balsam and disaster movie staple Shelley Winters:

Fassbinder fave Hanna Schygulla:

How the hell did they get Hanna Schygulla in a Cannon Film?!

and Pentagon suit Robert Vaughn. The initial hijack is pretty brutal (women punched in the face, Jews rounded up, etc.),

and even the classic Cannon incompetence can't entirely diminish the horrific impact.
There's a lot of set-up, too- this movie runs over 2 hours at a time when the average Cannon actioner was 89 minutes. But when we get to the long-awaited asskicking, it's entirely worth it.

To protect America's honor, WATCH Lee shoot terrorists in their sleep! SEE Chuck shake his head in disappointment before blowing away extremist hordes! VIEW Chuck crumpling a Presidential decree, just because he can! GAZE upon the oddly homoerotic spectacle of Chuck shooting rockets of death from the rear end of his motorcycle!


FOOOOSH

(Chuck also reveals that he bought a belt for a buddy as a gift.)

It all ends with the delivery of some cold beers- "Hey, guys, Budweisers! There's more where that came from!" Amen.

Where'd they get those beers? Also see: NINE DEATHS OF THE NINJA.

Four stars.

Side note: Pay attention to the 'official' dates and times listed for each location- you may just find some Golan/Globus whackiness (like a sunny day at 2 AM).

-Sean Gill

Theater Review: A JOHN WATERS CHRISTMAS (2009, John Waters)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: Approx. 65 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: John Waters.
Best one-liner: "Let's talk about the Easter Bunny...I hate the fucker. What sex is the Easter Bunny? You know, you see the Easter Bunny in malls, not that many people do it. You can tell they don't even care, because they don't even clean the outfits, they have mold on them, they don't even send them to the cleaners. It's some poor woman, usually, another step backwards for feminism, because...the Easter Bunny is the ultimate bottom, really. And not a good bottom. Not a greedy bottom, not a bossy bottom, but an impotent, powerless bottom that no childhood hero could ever top. And Easter is an S&M holiday, anyway..."


I'm a Halloween guy. Thus, I'm pretty resistant to all things Christmas, and especially resistant to people who adore all things Christmas. My general stance on the holiday is that only Michael Ironside should be allowed to dress up as Santa and only Wham! should be allowed to release Christmas albums. (I would also permit Bruce Willis to release one, should he decide to revisit the whole RETURN OF BRUNO concept.) I suppose I also embrace the slew of action movies (TRANCERS, RENT-A-COP, LETHAL WEAPON, DIE HARD, KISS KISS BANG BANG, et al.) that use Christmas as a piffling backdrop for Gary Busey putting Mel Gibson in a headlock or Burt Reynolds using "Merry Christmas" as a one-liner or, shit, even William Powell drinking like forty-seven martinis and punching out his wife (ostensibly, in order to save her). Regardless, I shall now update my stance– John Waters is permitted to enjoy the holiday.

His kitschy selections of off-the-beaten-path carols (from Fat Daddy to Little Cindy to Alvin and the Chipmunks) have yielded a well-known compilation album entitled A JOHN WATERS CHRISTMAS. He has an accompanying monologue show as well, one that I had heard of, but had never been lucky enough to attend until this year. The man is endlessly entertaining and full of this lively, benevolently perverse energy- you can't help but to have a bemused grin on your face the instant he comes on stage- before he's even said anything. And as soon as he begins, hold on tight– he delivers a whirlwind of relentless anecdotes, wisecracks, ruminations, and obsessions- which, for me, rival (if not eclipse) canonical masters of the art form like Spalding Gray.

He recalls, as a child, how he wanted to sit on William Castle's lap instead of Santa Claus'; the juvenile thrill of breaking in and opening strangers' presents; his deviant zest for Alvin and the Chipmunks (including, but not limited to, him wearing Alvin's giant "A"-emblazoned hoody to a theater full of children attending a CHIPMUNKS screening); his extreme loathing of gift cards and the people who give them; his deep-rooted hatred of the Easter Bunny as a holiday mascot (see above); and his desire to have his own amusement park and freak show and 'abortion movie' film festival (he wants to wear costumes and shout out dialogue for 4 MONTHS, THREE WEEKS, AND 2 DAYS). He recounted fond memories of Divine; spoke of his hopes for a possibly upcoming HAIRSPRAY 2 and his own long-anticipated Christmas movie, FRUITCAKE; and made many obscure self-references to a crowd whom I doubt had even heard of, much less seen, films like MULTIPLE MANIACS or ROMAN CANDLES. In short, this thing is fantastic. (And I've hardly even scratched the surface.) Five stars.


The fact that John Waters is my new best bud did not cloud the judgment of this review.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: CANE TOADS- A UNNATURAL HISTORY (1988, Mark Lewis)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 47 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Directed by Mark Lewis (RAT, THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF DOGS).
Tag-line: "The story of a bizarre biological blunder, warts and all!!"
Best one-liner: ""I still love the animal, and they give me a lot of enjoyment."

A whimsical look at humankind's hubristic, unavoidable folly, and notably Werner Herzog's favorite film. And it's easy to see why everybody's favorite whacked out Bavarian loves it so much: told in a style approximating early Errol Morris (like GATES OF HEAVEN or VERNON, FLORIDA) with a dab of Monty Python, the film certainly has a sense of humor, but never loses its interest in the humanity of its subjects. Whether we're hearing from a shadow-entrenched Cane Toad drug abuser:

a scientist with an axe to grind (a vendetta born from Cane Toads killing his beloved cat):

They killed his cat, and he is PISSED.

local yokels who possess love/hate relationships with the toads, or a researcher who simulates toad sex, the film clearly adores the hell out of its interviewees. Sure, the film may be smirking while they're on screen, but it's a gentle form of kidding, like between you and your favorite eccentric aunt. Or between Herzog and, say, everything contained within STROZEK.

The problem presented by the film began with human greed: beetle grubs were hindering the Australian sugar crop, so the Cane Toads were introduced from Hawaii to eat them. Unfortunately, as invasive species are want to do; they multiplied exponentially, ravaged the ecosystem, and ate everything (from ping-pong balls to cute little mice) EXCEPT the Cane Beetles.

A Cane Toad eats a cute little mouse. What an asshole.

Furthermore, they're extremely poisonous and kill almost everything that tries to eat them, from stray dogs to birds of prey to that scientist's unfortunate cat. Nature: 1. Humans: 0.

But then the humans strike back (if you can call it that) with our own unpredictable nuttiness- staging Cane Toad tea parties, erecting monuments, feeding them cigarettes, and making them their companions. "I still love the animal, and they give me a lot of enjoyment," gently says an elderly man wearing a dingy wifebeater:


At several points in the film, there are dramatizations that could practically be outtakes from 1972's FROGS, which you've got to love.


Near the end of the film, a question of sorts is indirectly posed by the insane shit that is happening on screen: What's more perverse– the necrophiliac Cane Toad that humps away for eight hours, or the human who watches said humping, just to confirm that it lasted eight hours? Yes, this film shows nature to be vile, base, obscene, and deadly. ...But like Herzog, the film loves it anyway- against its better judgment. Four stars.

-Sean Gill

Special note: Supposedly, Mark Lewis has recently completed CANE TOADS 2: THE CONQUEST. Werner and I both eagerly anticipate its release.

Film Review: MY SON, MY SON, WHAT HAVE YE DONE? (2009, Werner Herzog)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 93 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Michael Shannon, Willem Dafoe, Brad Dourif, Grace Zabriskie, Udo Kier, Chloë Sevigny, Verne Troyer, Irma P. Hall. Presented by David Lynch. Shot by Peter Zeitlinger.
Tag-line: "The mystery isn't who... but why?"
Best one-liner: "Razzle... dazzle..."

You could say that this is a portrait of an obsessed, delusional figure; or, you could say this is a vehicle for Brad Dourif to talk about a behemoth (pronounced as "ba-hay-muth") chicken; and you'd be right on both counts. It's comedy, it's tragedy, it's Herzog. David Lynch is the executive producer, so there's been a lot of talk of "poor man's Lynch," and "weirdness for its own sake," and so on. Herzog has said that he and Lynch are kindred spirits: while their films to not 'speak' to one another exactly, they have 'danced' with one another. Lynch was instrumental to this project only so far as he paired director, producer, and casting- he had no creative input. In Lynch's honor, Herzog made an homage or two (a man on a treadmill has an oxygen mask), but before you mention 'Lynch's shadow,' know that Herzog was making movies about little people 20 years before TWIN PEAKS.

MY SON, MY SON... is a brilliant film, and one which is pure, unadulterated Werner.

The peculiarities of the film's characters do not exist as empty quirk, as some have criticized, they represent the victory of humanity in the face of nature's indifference.

Mental illness, misfiring synapses, bad chemicals- these are the base and vile weapons of a cruel universe. Madness is almost a rational retort to the insane stimuli served up by fate, God, the cosmos, whatever you want to call it. Owning a Razzle Dazzle mug, transforming your home into the flamingo and cactus-infused equivalent of Pee-Wee's Playhouse:

fixing up a vat of black Jell-O, seeing God in a tube of oatmeal:

abandoning a basketball in a tree:

these are humanity's ways, however twisted or trivial, of combating the impassivity: of leaving our mark on the world, no matter how insignificant it may seem. A man's schizophrenic notion (that the entire world is scrutinizing him) is transformed by Herzog into a meditation on interesting faces in a Peruvian marketplace. Peter Zeitlinger's (Herzog's primary DP since the 90's) camera roves and roams and dashes and flutters about this film like some twitterpated bird- it views the world through an innocent, excitable kino-eye.

And if BAD LIEUTENANT is Herzog's 'lizard' movie, then it must be said that MY SON, MY SON is for the birds- or should I say "dinosaurs in drag?" (a fact that Udo Kier learns quite unexpectedly when an ostrich schlerps on his spectacles).


"Disgusting!"


Shannon and Uncle Ted (Brad Dourif) look on.

The performances are astounding, too- Michael Shannon's piercing frustration:

Grace Zabriskie's terrifyingly doting mother:

Willem Dafoe's considerate cop trying to put the pieces together:

Udo Kier's Euro-theater director who's having none of your sports analogies, and Dourif's grimy Uncle Ted ["The only thing Greeks know how to play with is each other's balls!"].

This is a magnificent film, and one that ends with an ambiguous image viewed first by who Herzog would call a "perpetual tourist" and then by who he'd call a "citizen of the world." This movie was made for the latter.

-Sean Gill

Ironside Week 1 Comes to a Close

If you're not an Ironside fan, I could say 'Thanks for bearing with all the Ironside this week,' but I won't, because that's not what Ironside would do. (I'll leave it up to your imagination what Ironside would do). In all seriousness, though, a fair warning that there's another one coming up- featuring films that he's had creative input on, films that are worse than the ones I've reviewed this week, and perhaps even a behind the scenes of TOTAL RECALL Ironside fanfic entitled, SEE YOU AT THE CAST PARTY, IRONSIDE. This will all probably coincide with Mr. Ironside's birthday on February 12th. Regardless–


Happy Holidays from Frederick Reginald (Michael) Ironside!

Television Review: THE A-TEAM– "TAXICAB WARS" (1983, Gilbert M. Shilton)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 60 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Mr. T, George Peppard, Dwight Schultz, Dirk Benedict, Ernie Hudson, Michael Ironside, Brion James, Donald Gibb.
Tag-line: "Heroes for hire."
Best one-liner: “If I catch you talkin’ to your socks, I’m gonna split your personality- PERMANENTLY!”

So the first Ironside week will come to a close with a 1983 TV episode that is extremely peculiar for a number of reasons:

This one is a real head-scratcher. It’s a second season episode of THE A-TEAM entitled “Taxicab Wars.” The A-Team is brought in to help out a small cab company facing off against ruthless, bloodthirsty rivals. This episode aired November 1, 1983. But then, there’s a film: D.C. CAB, directed by Joel Schumacher.

It was released about a month later on December 16, 1983. It, like THE A-TEAM, stars Mr. T, and features whacky rival cab companies. Furthermore, both feature incredible, eclectic casts that seem to represent some incredible astronomical convergence– “Taxicab Wars,” in addition to the A-TEAM regulars, features terrific character-y guests like Michael Ironside, Ernie Hudson, Donald Gibb, and Brion James. D.C. CAB features mind-blowing actors and personalities like Gary Busey, Irene Cara (singer of “Fame”), The Barbarian Brothers, Bill Maher, and Bob Zmuda (Andy Kaufman’s partner in crime).

So which came first, the chicken or the egg? “Taxicab Wars” or D.C. CAB? Conventional wisdom would suggest that the film, D.C. CAB, had a longer production schedule and thus had been in the pipeline longer, but who knows? Maybe they wanted to do “Taxicab Wars” for season 1 of THE A-TEAM, and T was like “Whoa, whoa, whoa. We’re only DOIN’ it, if we can do it RIGHT!” and then it got pushed back? The only common ties between the two projects are the plotline and the presence of Mr. T, aside from the fact that THE A-TEAM aired on NBC, and D.C. CAB was distributed by Universal…hmmm. Perhaps these two oddities were the result of some cigar-smoke-filled backroom deal, but to what end? So that Americans would begin to subconsciously associate Mr. T with whackiness and taxicabs? He was already associated with whackiness, so why taxicabs? I don’t think we can guess the fat-cats’ motivations all that easily, but I can tell you that these were definitely nefarious motivations, based on what they try to do to Ironside. More on that in a bit.

Everything that happens in a regular A-TEAM episode happens here. There’s lots of violence but no injuries, the black van gets to peel around some corners with tires squealing, Mr. T gets to do some zany shit, George Peppard gets to don a silly disguise, Dwight Schultz gets to act like an obnoxious lunatic, Dirk Benedict gets to have a half-assed pseudo-romance, etc., etc. Basically, it’s a live action SCOOBY DOO. Sometimes that’s a good thing, sometimes that’s a great thing, and sometimes it’s an extremely grating thing. I guess that’s part of the charm.

We begin with Ernie Hudson, playing a likable cab dispatcher. Wonder if he got the gig through Ironside based on their SPACEHUNTER collaboration, if it was the other way around, or if it was just a coincidence.

Hudson’s “Lone Star Taxi Co.” is engaging in a battle of wills with Michael Ironside’s “Love Cabs.” They are both ‘generals’ in this taxicab war, if you will. Hudson tries to coordinate his last two cabs in an attempt to pick up a fare. It backfires, and Ironside lets Lone Star know that he’s not fucking around- he kidnaps and brutally beats the rival cabbie infringing on his turf, then torches the car! Plus, he employs an army of ex-cons to do his dirty work! Damn!

Their cab torched, Ernie Hudson ruefully muses- “File this business under ‘nice try.’ Too bad we couldn’t get a hold of the A-Team…” Well, what do you suppose happens next?

Anyway, we get to spend some time with Ironside and his gang, which includes Donald Gibb (‘Ogre’ from REVENGE OF THE NERDS, ‘Ripper’ in JOCKS, ‘Mad Dog’ in MEATBALLS PART 2, and ‘Ray Jackson’ in Golan-Globus’ BLOODSPORT) and Brion James (‘Leon’ in BLADE RUNNER, SOUTHERN COMFORT, RED HEAT, CHERRY 2000, HOUSE III, TANGO & CASH, etc.), who you have to admit are pretty amazing henchmen for a guest star on THE A-TEAM.

Gibb looks like he just strolled off the set of a Golan-Globus production, whereas James looks like he just left the set of Friedkin's CRUISING– is that a leather beret?!

Anyway, Ironside is lecturing his team, when–

wait a second– do I see–

is that– no, it can't be–

LIPSTICK? BLUSH? EYE-LINER? Ho-ly shit, what are they doing to Ironside?! I realize this is TV, but what were they thinking? Is this part of some sinister stuffed-shirts’ plot to make Ironside seem less manly? Or is there something else at play? Upon further study, it appears that Ironside has some kind of real-life wound on his upper-left cheek. Remnants of a bar-fight that NBC wanted to cover up? If that’s the case, they went overboard with the concealer, yet didn’t succeed in concealing the wound. Perhaps this will remain a mystery for the ages.

In the meantime, the A-Team hooks up with Lone Star and begins to wage their war against Love Cabs. This involves a lot of Hannibal (Peppard) dressing up as a cowboy, Mr. T aggressively gathering fares (and beating up Donald Gibb), and Murdock (Schultz) doing this really fucking annoying ‘Captain Cab’ routine that involves a sock puppet.

The writers even realize how infuriating the whole ‘Captain Cab’ thing is, because Mr. T frequently threatens him– “This is my talking fist- his name is KNOCKOUT!”

“If I catch you talkin’ to your socks, I’m gonna split your personality- PERMANENTLY!”

Anyway, the A-Team pulls an offensive on Ironside’s lawn. Peppard infiltrates his estate, dressed as the “cowboy mogul.”

Ironside does not react well to Peppard dressed as a cowboy mogul.

But he reacts even less well to the A-Team fucking up his garden furniture:



Ironside: “THIS GUY WANTS …A WAR?!?!?!”

Things begin to spiral out of control. The opposing sides shoot up a bunch of cars,

and then Mr. T builds a homemade tank, which he uses to chase around Ironside. I can’t make this shit up.


Ironside looks most like Jack Nicholson when he's being chased around by Mr. T's homemade tank.

Murdock becomes so tiresome that I was hoping Ironside would eat him alive. No such luck.

Taking the whole 'Captain Cab' thing a bit too far. Murdock sure knows how to crank up the funny.

Ironside ends up having to surrender, but at least he does it fashionably, wearing a three-piece suit.

Ignominious defeat at the hands of live action cartoon characters.

It was a nice try, Ironside, but I guess this is what happens when you go up against the A-Team.

Gilbert M. Shilton, director of this episode, went on to direct Ironside again in three episodes of V and one episode of RAY BRADBURY THEATER, so they must’ve gotten along well. Also of note, Richard Christian Matheson (writer of THREE O’ CLOCK HIGH, frequent Tobe Hooper TV collaborator, and son of sci-fi master Richard Matheson) worked as a story editor on this episode, and Craig R. Baxley (director of ACTION JACKSON and STONE COLD, stuntman on PREDATOR and THE WARRIORS) was the second unit director on this episode. So clearly, there’s a lot going on here.

In all, a fine episode of the A-TEAM and a prime example of vintage Ironside. Four stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: THE MACHINIST (2004, Brad Anderson)

Stars: 3.4 of 5.
Running Time: 101 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Michael Ironside, Christian Bale, Jennifer Jason Leigh.
Tag-line: "How do you wake up from a nightmare, when you're not asleep?"
Best one-liner: "Congratulations, Reznik. You just made my shitlist!"

This is not really an Ironside movie, per sé, but hey- there's two reviews today.

THE MACHINIST is a surreal, existential mood piece in the same vein as David Lynch's ERASERHEAD, Alfred Hitchcock's STRANGERS ON A TRAIN, or Lars von Trier's THE ELEMENT OF CRIME. Unfortunately, that's all it is: the final act is a straightforward, moralizing washout that basically negates the power of what preceded it. (And THAT is what the hangman game spells out?! Are you serious?) Fans have speculated that the American studios passed on the script because it was too 'outre' (the film was ultimately shot in and funded by Spain), but I would submit that they passed because Scott Kosar's script was so damned uninteresting (though Kosar found American funding for his TEXAS CHAINSAW and AMITYVILLE reboot scripts...ugh). But director Brad Anderson and emaciated star Christian Bale delve deeply- past the material, and into themselves- conjuring a twitchy, uncanny atmosphere that is truly haunting.

A ghostly pallor- a shroud- lies upon this film, and I'm not merely talking about the desaturation filters applied in post. It's a disquieting tone, one that befits the world of a man who cannot engage with sweet slumber's embrace, and there are brilliant elements that go beyond Christian Bale's commitment to starving himself: Michael Ironside's factory worker is a weary hardass who infuses his role with incredible pathos,

Roque Baños' imitation Bernard Herrmann score (with theremin!) provides the perfect 'warped 1950's' touch, and the film peaks at about the halfway mark as Bale accompanies a young boy on a carnival ride called 'Route 666,' a distorted, perverse reimagining of the 'Tunnel of Love.'



Full of terrifying animatronics, eerie silhouettes, and a complete loss of control, the sequence is one of the best horror setpieces in years, and reveals Anderson as a director to watch– who knows what he could accomplish given material worthy of, say, Rod Serling?

Plus, it's always great to see Ironside deliver a low blow:



And one which was totally deserved, I might add.

This could have easily been a five star flick with a more complex, innovative ending, but as it stands, I can only give it three. (Plus a little extra for the low blow, why not? This is the web's leading authority on brutal ball-squeezing.)

-Sean Gill

Stay tuned for the Ironside finale, later today.

Commercial Review: LABATT MAXIMUM ICE (1993, Michael Ironside)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 30 seconds.
Notable Cast or Crew: Michael Ironside.
Best one-liner: “The creators of ice brewing…now LABATT MAXIMUM ICE."

EXT- SCOTTISH CLIFF- NIGHT. Waves crash, lightning flashes in the darkness. You can almost feel the icy spray of seawater, feel the cold chill of the ocean wind. Ministry’s “New World Order” begins to blast away.

A long-haired figure, his robe fluttering in the wind, pivots toward us– this is perhaps the most evocative opening two seconds of a beer commercial that the world has ever seen. In fact, this is not just a commercial– it's a thirty second movie.

There is a lot to like here, so let’s get down to brass tacks: Ironside, wearing his General Katana costume from HIGHLANDER 2, is laying down a few facts about Labatt Ice. It is not a ‘request’- this is not some slack-jawed Canadian huckster: this is IRONSIDE. And he does not make suggestions, he commands things of you. And note that I say “Ironside wearing his Katana costume.” It is my contention that General Katana alone is not quite terrifying enough to compel us to try Labatt Maximum Ice. Ironside, however, perhaps while taking a break from filming (and thus still in wig and robes) is taking a moment of his valuable time to explain something to you, so, by God, you’d better listen.

He solemnly intones: “History teaches that the strong survive by becoming stronger… this lesson has not been lost on Labatt.”



“The creators of ice brewing…”



Ironside strides up to a Stonehenge-style construction, surrounded by ivy-covered ancient columns. To one side, a stone jar- brimming with FLAMES. Beside it is the main altar- filled with LABATT MAXIMUM ICE and surrounded by regular ice, just to keep the maximum ice even colder.

[I should probably take this opportunity to mention exactly how many lightning strikes happen in the thirty seconds of glory that are this commercial. If you’re of the school of thought that only one lightning strike can exist at any given time, there are ten. If you’re of the school of thought that ‘multiple-bolted strikes’ should count as more than one, then there’s at least twenty.]

Now is this ONE lightning strike, THREE lightning strikes, or SEVEN?


“…now Labatt Maximum Ice. Only Labatt possesses the power of ‘ICE BREWING.’ And only ICE BREWING can create..."

Mind those sleeves around the flaming urn, Mike!


"...Labatt Maximum Ice."

“Now, hold on a second!" some pencil neck in the back is whining. “What does that even mean?… ‘ice brewing…’ Pshaw.” Well, allow me to tell you: IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER JUST SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO IRONSIDE. But for those of you who resisted the urge to interrupt Ironside with your shrill, uninformed questions, I’ll tell you for real: during the finishing process, after the beer has been brewed, it’s cooled to approximately twenty to twenty-eight degrees Fahrenheit, which creates small frozen crystals (of water), but merely chills the rest of the alcohol. The ice (purely water at this point) chunks are removed, which ups the alcohol percentage of the remaining concoction. Now, next time, just take Ironside’s word for it.



“The ultimate balance of smoothness and strength.” [We could say the same about you, Mr. Ironside. But we won’t, because we’re afraid to speak in your presence.] “Who says lightning doesn’t strike twice?” Ironside calmly, and casually concludes the commercial with this question, but it’s almost a warning, because immediately, lightning does, in fact, strike twice.

I’m not sure what that proves, or why Labatt Maximum Ice is evidence of lightning striking twice, but I’m not going to ask any silly questions like that while Ironside is around, I can tell you that.

Wow. Now, lucky for us all, they still make Labatt Maximum Ice, but its availability is pretty dependent on your region. I’ve had no luck thus far on finding it thus far in the Big Apple, but our buddies down at the 40 oz. Malt Liquor archive have provided a measured overview.


-Sean Gill

Film Review: SAVE ME (1994, Alan Roberts)

Stars: 2.3 of 5.
Running Time: 93 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Michael Ironside, Harry Hamlin (L.A. LAW), Lysette Anthony (KRULL), Bill Nunn (DO THE RIGHT THING), Steve Railsback (Manson in HELTER SKELTER, THE STUNT MAN, LIFEFORCE), Olivia Hussey (PSYCHO IV, BLACK CHRISTMAS, IT), Kato Kaelin (CYBORG 3, DORM DAZE 2).
Tag-line: "His erotic obsession...her deadly deception... Now available on Videocassette and Laserdisc.
Best one-liner: "YOU MISSED A MAJOR MARKETING OPPORTUNITY- YOU COST THIS FIRM MONEY....FUCK YOU!!!" Simply powerful dialogue. And evidence that Steve Railsback was the Christopher George of his day?

Today’s installment of Ironside week is a pretty shitty film that happens to feature Ironside in a decent supporting role. Where most actors appearing in SAVE ME would have been tired, beaten down, and uninspired, Ironside does a lot better than okay, and has one genuinely awesome moment, which I’ll get to eventually. I must also note that my review of this lackluster 90's skin flick will feature a veritable bounty of spoilers, unlike my usual reviews, because, frankly, are you ever going to watch SAVE ME?

SAVE ME is an extremely mediocre movie that begins with the feel of a BODY DOUBLE remake (it even has the scene of ‘man following mysterious woman into lingerie store’), if said remake happened to be co-financed by the Hallmark Hall of Fame and Cinemax. It tries to build up an evidently ‘moral’ hero (in a third-rate film noir skin-flick universe) and is frequently accompanied by gentle, tear-jerky piano music. At times it is a chore to watch. At times Michael Ironside is not on the screen. Note that there may be a correlation between those two statements.

Anyway, the movie begins with Harry Hamlin as our sad sack, TV star looking hero. I can’t decide if post-L.A. LAW Hamlin is the poor man’s Lorenzo Lamas, or if post-FALCON CREST Lorenzo Lamas is the poor man’s Harry Hamlin.

Truly, only our hindsight is 20/20.

I imagine, ultimately, history will resolve this quandary, but in the meantime, let me tell you- only one of these men was in SNAKE EATER.

Anyway, Hamlin is enjoying buddy time with his son.

Creepiness gives way to cutesyness. Finally, Ironside’s name appears in the credits, which lets you know that eventually, something badass and/or fantastic has to happen in this movie eventually. But also note the hideous juxtaposition. Has Ironside’s name ever accompanied a more inappropriate, cutesy-tootsy image?

And is that the font from PULP FICTION?

At least show his name when the goddamn kid is off the screen. This does not bode well. Anyway, Hamlin is undergoing a divorce, has trouble at work with Steve Railsback, his boss, and then there’s that lingerie store scene like from BODY DOUBLE:


and man, this movie doesn’t seem to be going anywh– BOOM! IRONSIDE.


Ironside + beard, no less.

Ironside is evidently the mystery woman’s abusive significant other. The woman awkwardly leaves aPost-it note behind. Hamlin picks it up. It’s the title of this movie.


It says “Save me” and gives her telephone number. Suddenly there's a plot, and with Ironside as the ostensible antagonist. Things can really start cooking now. Anytime. Yup, they're allowed to start cooking anytime now.

Hamlin’s character is not a cliché, he just happens to be the sort of guy who stays up at night, sitting in the dark, mournfully watching home videos of his family. He contacts the mystery woman, and they have great conversations which are punctuated by lines like “Do you always write notes to total strangers?” Until about the one hour mark, there are only three sorts of scenes in this movie. #1. Sex scenes between Hamlin and Anthony. #2. Scenes of Steve Railsback threatening to fire Hamlin from his job. #3. Ironside letting Hamlin and Anthony know he's onto their shit, and he's not effing around.

The love scenes are extremely trashy. Some filmmakers will frame scenes in homage to classical works of art. Like how that shot at the end of Buñuel's VIRIDIANA mirrors Da Vinci’s LAST SUPPER. Well, SAVE ME frames its love scenes in homage to great sleazy romance novel covers. That’s what it looks like, anyway.

I'm having flashbacks to the grocery checkout line.

There’s pulsating, terrible use of drum machines, lots of jeans, and a sex scene in a red convertible. Welcome to 1994.

Hey, I remember that pillow! I think we may have had that pillow when I was a kid.

And the convertible sex scene is set to calliope music for no discernable reason:

The circus music is certainly a bold choice.

The scenes with Steve Railsback reveal him to be a brilliant actor. Or maybe they reveal him to be a terrible actor.

Like the late, great Christopher George, sometimes you just can't tell. And in a movie like this, I guess it doesn't matter. Hamlin also refers to him as "little Saddam," again firmly grounding us in the early 90's.


But then:
IRONSIDE IS WEARING A SILK ROBE.

IRONSIDE KNOWS YOU ARE HIDING SOMETHING.

IRONSIDE IS ON TO YOUR SHIT.

"Oh yeah, well, you're using her mother to control her- THAT'S PATHETIC!"


Thank God I'm only on set for six days.


Then there are Monster Trucks in this movie. Monster Trucks, of all things:


Anyway, it kind of starts turning into a thriller. There are tense scenes in parking garages. Two of them. Someone is trying to kill Hamlin. Hamlin assumes it is Ironside. A cop, played by Bill Nunn (Radio Raheem in DO THE RIGHT THING) begins to investigate.

Either Bill Nunn aged 20 years in the 5 years in between DO THE RIGHT THING and this, or the hair stylist sprinkled some flour in his hair.

Nunn with Spike Lee in DO THE RIGHT THING.

Then Hamlin decides to take the law into his own hands and confronts a besweatered Ironside at gunpoint.


Turns out Ironside is totally reasonable and has nothing to do with the attempted murder of Hamlin. He is just a really intense, earnest guy who Hamlin found threatening for some reason. But then we have the best moment in the movie. It's all been a lead-up to this. Ironside reaches into a drawer for a cigarette, and Hamlin thinks he's reaching for his gun, so Hamlin shoots Ironside in the arm! Ironside winces for a moment- only one fleeting moment- then calmly delivers his line:

"Does smoking really bother you that much, Stevens?"

WHAAAAAAAAT!!!!!


Hamlin's mind has also been blown.

Goddamn! The man has just been shot! Yet Ironside is so powerfully present that you have no alternative than to believe that this man, who suffered a gunshot wound mere seconds before, can calmly collect himself and deliver a jokey retort. Ironside continues:

"Lucky for us both, you're not a very good shot. ... But I do seem to be producing quite a bit of blood here. In the downstairs bathroom, left cabinet, there's a first aid kit. Could you...please?"

Holy shit, Ironside is a hardass. This almost makes it worth sitting through this entire movie, just so we could get to this point. Hamlin then runs downstairs to the first aid kit, leaving Ironside alone. He sits down, mumbling to himself: "Now what does one drink for an occasion like this- Bourbon or scotch? Eh, definitely bourbon- a man's drink." I'm trying to imagine all of this on the page, but Ironside is laying it out beautifully. Then the REAL killer sneaks in and pops Ironside, thus giving me no reason to continue watching this film.

R.I.P., Dr. Oliver.

Anyway, it all ends up with some femme fatale shit involving schizophrenia, incest, and all that jazz. Ironside's character really was a good guy.


Also, Kato Kaelin appears in not one, but two roles. He plays "Police Officer" and a "Bond Trader #1." He’s even credited as such.

Kaelin (far left) has his big moment as "Police Officer."

To avoid the community theater/double-casting vibe, they could have just lied and credited him as “undercover bond broker cop,” but I guess they didn’t feel the need. I can respect that.

Still, this is a 1 star movie. But it's a one star movie with Michael Ironside, so it's at least a two star movie. And it's a two star Ironside movie with one exceptionally memorable Ironside scene, so I'm giving it exactly 2.3 stars. As always- Bravo, Ironside.

-Sean Gill

Incredibly Hyperbolical Ironside Trailer: FORCED TO KILL (1994)

I don't think I'll get to the review in time for this week, but this looks like a good one. Just when you think they can't make any more outrageous claims about the film- they do. Co-stars Ron Howard's father, brother, and Mickey Jones (Bob Dylan's drummer, appeared in EXTREME PREJUDICE).