Film Review: OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN (1983, George P. Cosmatos)

Stars: 3 of 5.
Running Time: 88 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Peter Weller (ROBOCOP, NAKED LUNCH, THE ADVENTURES OF BUCKAROO BANZAI), Kenneth Welsh (SURVIVAL OF THE DEAD, TWIN PEAKS, PERFECT), Maury Chaykin (TWINS, THE ADJUSTER, DANCES WITH WOLVES), Jennifer Dale (THE ADJUSTER, SUZANNE), Shannon Tweed (HOT DOG THE MOVIE, STEEL JUSTICE, ex-Playboy Playmate, and ex of Gene Simmons), Lawrence Dane (SCANNERS, BRIDE OF CHUCKY), Louis Del Grande (SCANNERS, ATLANTIC CITY). Produced by Pierre David and Claude Héroux (VIDEODROME, SCANNERS, THE BROOD, VISITING HOURS).
Tag-line: "Two forces have claimed the house. Only one will survive."
Best one-liner: "You never said anything about rubber gloves, you boneheaded fart."

It's like MOBY DICK, except instead of Captain Ahab, we have Peter Weller. And instead of a great white whale, we have a giant brown rat. And instead of the high seas, we have a New York apartment building (actually filmed in Montreal). It's a familiar tale. You know- He had it all. The perfect wife. The perfect job. The perfect kid. The perfect home.

Until... a mere rodent made his life into a living hell... a succession of grotesque blightings... an obsession beyond human comprehension...
I suppose, the main lesson here being, 'Don't fuck with a man's brownstone.' And so it's war. Peter Weller is taking this infestation personally.

Needless to say, only one of our two combatants will be left standing. But who? And at what cost?

Helmed by creature-feature conoisseur and ghost-director extraordinaire George Pan Cosmatos (RAMBO: FIRST BLOOD PART II, COBRA, LEVIATHAN, and TOMBSTONE), OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN possesses that strangely sterile, alienating 'Canadian horror' vibe that Cronenberg has used to such great effect in films such as THE FLY, CRASH, and DEAD RINGERS.

Of course, this may have something to do with the producers, Pierre David and Claude Héroux, who produced most of Cronenberg's 70's and 80's output. The atmosphere certainly works: we have man, existing in the carefully constructed steel, glass, and concrete compartments he has created for himself. Tubes and vents ensure proper ventilation and waste disposal. Everything fits within the lines and the walls and the gridlike streets and life is good and– SCHLERP SCHLERP SCHLERP–

Next thing you know, the rat is leaving its creepy little footprints on your coffee table. You know, those terrifying, pink, viscous, semi-translucent, soggy fuckin' paws. It's eating your cereal, knockin' your phone off the hook, leavin' its hairs in your sandwich, playin' your piano, and tryin' to chomp your nuts as you're sittin' on the toilet.

My thoughts exactly, Peter Weller.

Filmed with PHASE IV-style macroscopic photography and hideous attention to detail, OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN dashes headlong into the claustrophic, nasty little world of vermin.

Sewer rat POV.

Peter Weller slowly descends into madness– the rat is one tough customer. Can't trap it. Can't poison it. Can't shoot it. Can't even sic the cat on it. Next thing you know, Pete's talking to the stuffed animals. He's reading MOBY DICK. His day job suffers. It's awesomely clichéd: oh, now he's hitting the bottle.

Next he's sifting through microfiche. He's researching the rat. He's discovering there's 24,000 reported rat bites a year. It's becoming an obsession. He loses touch with co-workers. At a company dinner, he just rattles off facts about rats, much to everyone's chagrin.

Including the chagrin of genius character actor, Kenneth Welsh.

He witnesses the miracle of rat birth. He watches Spencer Tracy in THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA. It's man versus nature versus man versus nature. "This isn't some ordinary rat I'm dealing with. It killed my cat." He screams "You want a war, I'll give you a war!" Weller is great. He's always great. He appears to be wearing the same nerdy glasses he later wears in NAKED LUNCH, and he's unraveling at the seams. There are other characters, I suppose, but this is a one man show.

Before you can say, "It's clobberin' time," Weller has devised a rat-smashing implement that can be best described as an 'atomic bear-trap war-club.'

He's gotten to the point where he just sits in his home. In the dark. Wearing a woolen cap. Clutching his atomic bear-trap war-club. Waiting. Like a coiled spring. Waiting. Ready to snap.
There's a final showdown, of course. It's pretty satisfying. Only one of the two rivals will survive. Who will it be? Our hang-dog urban commando? Our twitchy, disease-spreading, four-legged fiend? Will it be "watch and weep, you furry fucker!" or will it be curtains for the man who thinks of his home as his castle? Well, watch the movie and find out.

Three stars. A fine, crittery, jittery time. Not a classic, but it's one of the best 'man versus rat' movies out there.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: NOWHERE TO HIDE (1987, Mario Azzopardi)

Stars: 4.1 of 5.
Running Time: 90 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Amy Madigan, Michael Ironside, Maury Chaykin (TWINS, THE ADJUSTER), Garrick Hagon (Biggs in STAR WARS: A NEW HOPE), Daniel Hugh Kelly (CUJO, MACSHAYNE: THE FINAL ROLL OF THE DICE). Co-produced by Julie Corman (Roger's wife).
Tag-line: "Amy Madigan. Wife...mother...Ex-marine...caught in a conspiracy that's exploded her word. They left her no choice. She's giving them... NOWHERE TO HIDE." I love that the tag-line makes it sound as if Amy Madigan plays herself in this movie...and maybe she does.
Best one-liner: "What's wrong with your boy?"

NOWHERE TO HIDE is a classic 80’s military conspiracy flick (along with ABOVE THE LAW, DEFENSE OF THE REALM, THE FOURTH PROTOCOL and the best of them, FLASHPOINT). Special thanks to Ollie North for making this sort of thing fashionable. Our heroine is Amy Madigan. Madigan is notably Ed Harris' wife, and allow me to say that you don't get to be Ed Harris' wife by knittin' sweaters- the lady is intense. She's also a damned fine actor, playing scenes of hysterical personal trauma and over-the-top badassery with equal levels of truthfulness and commitment.

Madigan wields a welding torch.


There is truly nowhere for Madigan to hide in that sweater.

Anyway, Madigan's military husband is assassinated by the feds (with one thug played by the omnipresent Maury Chaykin) after he discovers they've been skimping on helicopter safety costs. The body count rises, the cover-up spirals out of control, and there's a chase scene through a cemetery that gets a few extra points for having a car brutally ram a coffin, mid-funeral.

In DEATH RACE 2000, this would totally get you, like, a million points.

Anyway, with nowhere else to turn, Madigan enlists the help of hardass mountain man Michael Ironside.

Ironside plays the kind of guy who'll toss two bloody rabbit corpses at a kid, and then ask "What's wrong with your boy?" when the kid starts sniveling.

sniffle, sniffle


"What's wrong with your boy?"

But Ironside gets a chance to play a father figure, too, which clearly makes me very happy. As a form of catharsis, Ironside makes the kid wash rabbits’ blood from his hands- “I’ve seen this before, he’ll be okay.”



After just a few, brief Ironside parenting sessions, this kid will assuredly not become a pansy.

Far be it from me to question the parenting techniques of an Ironside character, but there ya go- the man gets results.

Surrogate pappy Ironside delivers a hearty hug as his terrifying dog looks on.

Later, evil commandos lay siege to the cabin in the film’s best sequence, and we got Ironside taking guys out with a bow & arrow– life is good.

Did I say "life is good?" I meant, "Life is GREAT."

We even get an extended canine low blow when one of Ironside’s dogs chomps a henchman’s genitals.

As part of a continuing series, Junta Juleil endeavors to provide you with the best and most brutal low-blow coverage possible.

Ironside is even killing dudes with his bare hands after getting shot and stabbed like 47 times.

Bravo. The ending is pretty damn convenient, but any implausibilities (Madigan flying a helicopter like a pro) are negated by the fact that the main villain’s car flies off of an incredible precipice, and THEN gets blown-up, mid-descent, by one of Madigan’s perfectly placed rockets.

!

!!!

To quote Yello, “Ohhhhh yehh-yuh.” [Chickah-chickah]

-Sean Gill

Film Review: DEATH HUNT (1981, Peter R. Hunt)

Stars: 3.7 of 5.
Running Time: 97 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Directed by Peter R. Hunt (editor of the first few James Bond films, director of ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE). Charles Bronson, Lee Marvin, Carl Weathers, Angie Dickinson, Andrew Stevens, Maury Chaykin (TWINS, THE ADJUSTER), William Sanderson (DEADWOOD, BLACK MOON RISING), Ed Lauter (TRUE ROMANCE).
Tag-lines: "The Saga Of Two Rivals Who Clash As Enemies And Triumph As Heroes."
Best one-liner: "That look on your face would turn good whiskey into sour piss."

DEATH HUNT is by no means one of Bronson's best, nor is it one of Lee's best. But it's a sharp little arctic thriller (that provided the blueprint for RAMBO) with an insane ensemble cast, and it makes good on most of its action flick promises, so here we are.

Our heroes are pro-animal rights hermit Bronson and anti-technology mountie Marvin, and, unfortunately, they're victims of circumstance, forced to battle one another due to a combo of injustice and bad luck. There's a lot goin' on here:

we got Carl Weathers layin' in bed with a gigantic hooker and sayin' "You want a piece of this buffalo woman?," Andrew Stevens (MUNCHIE, MUNCHIE STRIKES BACK) acting as the moral compass of the film, a skeezy William Sanderson (BLADE RUNNER) cackling and getting bear trap comeuppance, Ed Lauter (DEATH WISH 3) bein' an all-around dick, Angie Dickinson gettin' romanced by Lee after bein' smacked around by him in THE KILLERS,

1. Romance

2. Smarm

3. Awkwardness

and Egoyan fave Maury Chaykin sleazin' it up like it's his job, which it is. But this movie belongs to Lee and Chuck. Lee's an old drunk who excels at not giving a shit.

By this point, he also looks a bit like Andy Warhol, which is fairly disquieting.

He gets all the best lines, like "There ain't nothin' in the book says that fuckin's against the law!" Or "I ain't a sir, a mister, or a Grandpa- YOU GOT THAT?!" Of Bronson he says, "I gotta know him so good I gotta taste him!" ...WHUTTT?! (Well, I guess there's some context for that which I have not provided.)

Conversely, Bronson hardly talks at all.

Bronson feeds beef jerky to his new friend.

Again, like DEATH WISH II, he gets a one-word one-liner- "Welcome." BLAMM! I guess the big lesson here is: don't fuck with a man's cabin.

Bronson gets to take on a plane, NORTH BY NORTHWEST style. He does a lot of popping out of nowhere with shotguns blazing while his opponents look on, incredulously, because they were oh so sure he was dead.

Not sure what they expected, telling Bronson in the opening scene: "You ain't gonna be nothin' but a sack of guts!," but needless to say, every knucklehead that deserves it gets their just desserts. I think Jack London would be proud.

If you want to mess with Bronson, get used to this view.

Yeh, this is pretty solid. Nearly four stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: TWINS (1988, Ivan Reitman)

Stars: 3.5 of 5.
Running Time: 105 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Arnold Schwarzenegger, Danny DeVito, Heather Graham, Kelly Preston, Chloe Webb, Maury Chaykin (THE ADJUSTER), Frances Bay, David Caruso, Bonnie Bartlett, Peter Dvorsky. Music by Georges Delerue and Randy Edelman.
Tag-lines: "Only their mother can tell them apart. "
Best one-liner: "The pavement was his enemy."

When TWINS debuted in 1988, nearly 3,000 years of comedy- from Aristophanes to Dorothy Parker- culminated with Arnold sniffing a microwave dinner and exclaiming, "YUHMMY!" And somehow, I'm kind of okay with that. TWINS is a film about eugenics. It's a film about 'nature vs. nuture.' It's a film about Arnold wearing a bath towel and singing "Yakety-yak, don't talk back!" with reckless abandon. Here's 6 reasons why TWINS is better than your average fish out of water yarn:


#1. Gotta love that the entire movie is built around one joke (How could Arnie and Danny DeVito be TWINS?!), but somehow it's a tenable joke, and between Arnie's rubbery mug and DeVito's gleeful desperation, well...here we are.


#2. An eclectic, talented supporting cast. It includes Chloe Webb (SID & NANCY), David Caruso, Peter Dvorsky (Harlan in VIDEODROME), Frances Bay (David Lynch's favorite little old lady), and Heather Graham.

#3. References to other Arnie movies- even ones that hadn't been made yet! ("Coookies!"- JINGLE ALL THE WAY, "I'll be back!"- THE TERMINATOR, "Mr. Ice!"- BATMAN & ROBIN, etc.)


#4. The latest salvo in the Schwarzenegger vs. Stallone rivalry: Arnie looks at a poster for RAMBO III, squeezes his own bicep in wonderment, shrugs off- Pshaw!- and playfully scoffs. It's even a greater slap in Stallone's face because it reminds us all that Sly never could quite nail intentional comedy (RHINESTONE, OSCAR).


#5. "You have no respect for loh-gic! And I have no respect for those who have no respect for lohgic!"

#6. Musical score by Georges Delerue and Randy Edelman. Georges did JULES AND JIM, CONTEMPT, and HIROSHIMA MON AMOUR. Randy did XXX, DROP DEAD FRED, and OSMOSIS JONES. I wonder who did the tranquil, reflective strings versus who did the zany honkeytonk piano with 80's reverb-heavy bass riffs?

Annnyway, if you're in the mood for double-takes, spit-takes, and other screwy antics, give TWINS a spin.

If you're not, may I recommend David Cronenberg's 1988 less-than-zany twin flick, DEAD RINGERS.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: EXOTICA (1994, Atom Egoyan)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 103 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Elias Koteas (TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES, THE THIN RED LINE, ZODIAC, Cronenberg's CRASH), Victor Garber (ALIAS, MILK), Bruce Greenwood (I'M NOT THERE, THE SWEET HEREAFTER, Abrams' STAR TREK), Mia Kirshner (THE L WORD, THE CROW II), Sarah Polley (GO, THE SWEET HEREAFTER), Arsinée Khanjian (FAT GIRL, CALENDAR), Don McKellar (EXISTENZ, BLINDNESS), music by Mychael Danna (THE SWEET HEREAFTER, CAPOTE), shot by Paul Sarossy (SOLDIER'S GIRL, WICKER MAN remake).
Tag-lines: "In a world of temptation, obsession is the deadliest desire." WHAT

Without any context, a babysitter could be easily confused for a hooker (or vice versa) when she's taking money from an older man in a darkened car. And, in a way, this is the premise of EXOTICA. Context, context, context. A great many of us traverse this life quite presumptuously, making ill-informed judgments (be it by thought, speech, or act) based on observations made in an instant; judging the world based on a grain of sand or a drop of water. In Atom Egoyan's world, the basis of human communication should be a mutual admission: "I don't know what you've been through, nor you, I." The record of a human life cannot be told in an hour, or two, or even a thousand. It's a sum of experiences, traumas, realizations, and fleeting moments that only its bearer can truly appreciate. Yet this truth is ignored again and again until the observer is satisfied enough to 'pin down' his subject, catalogue it, and store it away.

The film is full of these observers; police watching potential criminals at an airport, a man inspecting a rare bird in a cage, spectators at a ballet, patrons at a strip club, management of said club keeping tabs on the patrons. Everyone's getting something out of these exchanges, but what? We're drawn to the uncertainty of mystery almost as much as we're drawn to the finality of judgment. The unknown, the inexplicable, the exotic. An 'exotic' baby grand piano, an 'exotic' bird, a session with an 'exotic' dancer. What are we getting out of this? Something different becomes something familiar. All of these ideas congeal quite beautifully into a character-driven drama that culminates in a finale that is truly cathartic. A lesser artist would allow what follows to spiral into violence, but Egoyan finds a way to reconcile his characters, plot threads, and themes into a denouement that is absolutely staggering, completely appropriate, and one of the best filmic payoffs in years.

Now, after all of that, get a load of the DVD cover Miramax has furnished for this film.

They'd have you believe it's a trite, schoolgirl strippin', darkly voyeuristic, knock-off Eszterhas thrill ride. Given the film's lack of faith in deluded prejudgments, I suppose the cover is the perfect prelude to what comes next. Five stars.

-Sean Gill