Film Review: FATAL BEAUTY (1987, Tom Holland)

Stars: 4.6 of 5.
Running Time: 104 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Whoopi Goldberg, Sam Elliott (FROGS, THE BIG LEBOWSKI), Brad Dourif (ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST, CHILD'S PLAY), Harris Yulin (CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER, ST. IVES), Cheech Marin, Mark Pellegrino (Jacob on TV's LOST, MULHOLLAND DR.), James LeGros (DRUGSTORE COWBOY, GUNCRAZY), John P. Ryan (IT'S ALIVE, CLASS OF 1999), M.C. Gainey (Tom Friendy on TV's LOST, SIDEWAYS), Rubén Blades (PREDATOR 2, ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO), Charles Hallahan (Norris in THE THING, SILKWOOD). Music by Harold Faltermeyer (KUFFS, THE RUNNING MAN). Holy shit, the only people missing from this movie are Clu Gulager, Donald Pleasence, and James Remar.
Tag-line: "An earthquake is about to hit L.A. It's called Detective Rita Rizzoli."
Best one-liner: "Do you want a glass?" –"Do I want a glass? No, wrap it in a taco, dumb motherfucker, yes, I want a glass!"

FATAL BEAUTY is an extremely underrated (buddy) cop thriller directed by Tom Holland (CHILD'S PLAY, FRIGHT NIGHT) and written by Hilary Henkin (ROAD HOUSE) and Dean Riesner (DIRTY HARRY). The cast is extremely eclectic and chock full of undersung, prolific 80's character actors, and Whoopi has never been more likable. There's ginormous boom boxes, zany high-heel'd hookers, chubby Latino queens channeling Divine, Cheech Marin as a smarmy bartender ("Gimme a kiss"), and Rubén Blades as a bearded, milquetoast cop who doesn't even know who Richard Gere is (zany, right?).

It's a forgotten film, misplaced in a sea of BEVERLY HILLS COPS, LETHAL WEAPONS, and DIE HARDS. Discarded, derided, and disregarded, this is the sort of thing that Drug Mart puts in the 50-cent bin, then withdraws from circulation entirely 'cause no one is renting it... except me. I am renting it. And then I am proclaiming it to be a "hidden gem" for all the world to hear. So here are thirteen reasons why FATAL BEAUTY deserves its place in the pantheon, beside the likes of THE FRENCH CONNECTION and TURNER & HOOCH:

#1. John P. Ryan (R.I.P.) as the crusty Lieutenant who you love to hate. He drinks Pepto Bismol out of the bottle, smokes a pipe, and is always threatening Whoopi with that old standby– We'll stick you behind a desk if you screw up one more time, you whacky action-luvin' cop! He gets to deliver the classic "Gut feeling! We need probable cause– we can't go down to the D.A.'s office with your gut!" But then he pulls a disappearing trick halfway through the narrative and is never heard from again. It's a thankless job, and John P. Ryan has to do it. And I don't even grace him with a screencap here. That's completely unintentional, but probably an all-too-common theme for the credit owed to John P. Ryan. Lost in the shuffle. IT'S ALIVE? You probably just remember the killer baby. CLASS OF 1999? You can't think of anything but Pam Grier's robot boobs. RENT-A-COP? All you can think of is Liza getting goosed and James Remar dancing up a storm. THREE O'CLOCK HIGH? The bully. DEATH WISH 4? Bronson. WHITE SANDS? Dafoe. And John P. Ryan doesn't even get credited in that one. Where is the love? One of these days, I will devote an entire week to John P. Ryan. But, poetically, I'll probably forget that I ever promised that.

#2. M.C. Gainey and Norris from THE THING (Charles Hallahan) as two sexist cops who Whoopi schools the shit out of.

In fact, that's kind of the set-up for the entire film: A. People offend Whoopi, calling her "bitch," "cunt," or by engaging in illegal activity. B. Whoopi kicks their asses and has a snazzy retort. Case in point: "Kevlar, bitch!" BLAM BLAM BLAM –"Smith & Wesson, asshole!" The retort doesn't even have to be that scathing, it just has to be sassy: "Hey, stay bent over like that and I'll show you a good time." –"Oh yeah? One quick hump and you'd be in the hospital, honey."

#3. Whoopi's style- she's got a cat like Philip Marlowe, drives around in a snazzy pink Mustang (shades of "AWSOM 50" anyone?),

decorates her home with Chuck Berry paintings, shoots dudes in the ass and then tortures them, and whomps a WASPin' country club beyotch into a pool and thru plate glass window.

"Everywhere I go, people are dyin' to meet me." I didn't even get to the scene where she steals cookies from a restaurant before she leaves to abuse a suspect in the meat locker. Yes, she is awesome.

I must admit, in the past I have generally had pretty lukewarm feelings on the subject of Whoopi Goldberg. Now she is a lifetime member of Junta Juleil's Hall-o-Fame.

#4. Rizzoli! I guess Whoopi is an Italian-American. Have-a some more s'getts, you look-a too thin! Whether or not the screenplay was written for a black woman is certainly open to debate, since they definitely run with some of the jokier aspects (in retrospect?). Either way, I love it.

#5. Whoopi's undercover costumes. Whether she's dressed as "Tina Turner meets Golan-Globus crackwhore":

Note sunglasses.

or like a 1960's housewife-slash-debutante:

her many disguises are guaranteed to delight and inspire.

#6. Mark Pellegrino as Billy Idol-lookin' punk named Frankenstein. Compare it to his character in DEATH WISH 4. It really puts a whole new spin on LOST. (And one scene in particular even eerily anticipates the Season 5 finale.) In fact, wait a minute- this movie is full of LOST alumni (M.C. Gainey, Cheech Marin). The wheels are turning.

Note the black and white imagery.

#7. The guy who chews on a glass bottle for no reason. Hey, Busey lit his arm on fire in LETHAL WEAPON, so why not.

#8. Whiny James LeGros. He's the first of two characters to drop the C-bomb on Whoopi (Dourif being the other) and is referred to as a "snot nosed limp dick in designer jeans."

LeGros prepares to drop the c-bomb with little to no warning.

Don't worry, though, the country club douchebomb who Whoopi whoops with such commitment and élan... is his mom.



#9. Sam Elliott. So soothing.

Seriously, though, he and Werner Herzog should team up and do a radio show. The show could air from, I don't know, maybe 7-10 AM EST on weekdays, and I could set my clock radio to it, and that way I could bestir myself to something other than "Time keeps on slippin' slippin' slippin'...into the future..." which I guess is soothing in its own way, but it feels very old hat to me at this point in my life but I guess it's my own fault for having the dial tuned to a classic rock station only plays about five or six different songs. I digress. Regardless, Sam Elliot says, "I always had a thing for Italian ladies." Ro-mannnce!

#10. The eponymous cocaine blend which will kill you or drive you crazy in thirty seconds. WHATTT?! What a great plot development! It's so over-the-top and with such high stakes, that I have to say we're nearly in DEAD HEAT territory.

#11. Brad Dourif. Cast (in a pre-Chucky Tom Holland flick!) as the main villain, it doesn't matter if he's in silk shirts, ridic 80's wool sport coats or weird little red shoes- his frizzy hair is in that classic lopsided part, and he's skittering around like he's king of the drug world.


He's surprisingly earnest, too. Well, at least before he starts killing everybody. We're entreated to the sight of Dourif blasting automatic weapons and shooting up innocent bystanders and security guards at a mall, which is strangely similar to the opening scene of CHILD'S PLAY- in fact, in addition to thinking of it as a second parallel universe on LOST, I'm going to start considering FATAL BEAUTY as a prequel to the Chucky movies. Hey, they both use the word "bitch" a lot.

#12. Harris Yulin. Always typecast as this sort of character. Always great at it. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Is that a terrycloth smoking jacket or an especially dignified robe?

#13. The ending that may or may not involve a mustache kiss and a freeze frame, and the closing credits song "It's Criminal" by Shannon. "It's crim-in-nal. I THINK IT'S A CRIME! It's crim-in-nal. DOIN' TIME!"

-Sean Gill

Film Review: FROGS (1972, George McCowan)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 91 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Ray Milland, Sam Elliott, Joan van Ark.
Tag-lines: "Cold green skin against soft warm flesh...a croak...a scream."
Best one-liner: "I still believe man is master of the world!"

FROGS is a grand ole time of a movie from some filmmakers who thought they were making something in the same league as THE BIRDS [with fleeting touches of REAR WINDOW and GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER? (!)] Hitchcockian aspirations aside, it's almost as if an ecologically-minded after-school special was co-directed by Arch Hall, Sr. and Werner Herzog. In short, the makers lack a rudimentary knowledge of the language of cinema, yet are devoted to the message that "the common character of the universe is not harmony, but chaos, hostility, and murder." Nearly every scene in the film is book-ended by ominous shots of slowly advancing frogs.

Each death scene is lethargically paced and punctuated with atonal music. Frogs attack windows. A frog jumps on a record player. A man shoots himself in the foot, then is pinned down by moss, and tarantulas walk all over him until he's dead.

A frog leaps on a cake made in the shape of the American flag. All variety of animals commit murder. Apparently the frogs pull the strings. All of these events are sort of tied together by an Everglade party thrown by wheelchair-using Ray Milland, who maintains a "show must go on" attitude in the midst of a high body count.

Milland, ostensibly the villain, brings a lot of class and commitment to his role. I guess he uses too much pesticide and shoots a snake off of his chandelier (then says "What's everybody standing around for- let's eat!"), but other than that, I see no real reason why the frogs ought to seek revenge. It's not like he sticks frog heads on pikes on his lawn.

I guess his general bad attitude was enough motive for the frogs. Sam Elliot (sans moustache) is our poor man's ecologist and croc-blasting hero.

Now, many have complained that the poster is dishonest- it depicts a frog eating a human hand- a scene they say is not depicted in the movie. To them, I say, stick around till after the end credits: there may be a juicy surprise in store.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: TOMBSTONE (1993, "George Cosmatos")

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 134 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Kurt Russell, Terry O'Quinn, Val Kilmer, John Fasano, Powers Boothe, Michael Biehn, Jon Tenney (HOMECOMING), Charlton Heston, Sam Elliott, Dana Delaney, Thomas Haden Church, Michael Rooker (HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER), Harry Carey, Jr., Wyatt Earp (real relative), Robert John Burke (Hal Hartley alum, DUST DEVIL, and ROBOCOP mantle-taker-upper after Peter Weller left), John Corbett, Billy Zane, Billy Bob Thorton, Frank Stallone (Sly's brother and fabulous musician- STAYING ALIVE soundtrack), Robert Mitchum (just did the narration unfortunately), Stephen Lang (MANHUNTER), Christopher Mitchum (Robert's son).
Tag-line: "Every town has a story. Tombstone has a legend."
Best one-liner: "I'm you're huckleberry."

Five reasons why 1993's TOMBSTONE is the best telling of the Wyatt Earp legend (a tale that's been told by everyone from John Ford to a STAR TREK episode to Anthony Mann to a Kenny Rogers TV Movie to Lawrence Kasdan).

#1. 'Staches, 'staches, 'staches.

Every 'stache in this film is authentic, from Sam Elliott's dignified silvery behemoth to Kurt Russell's angry, in-command, lip carpet to Jon Tenney's slimy, roguish dandy.

#2. "I'm your huckleberry!"

Val Kilmer's gleeful, sickly, girlish, fey performance as Doc Holliday. Hands down, the oddest performance in a Western since Marlon Brando in THE MISSOURI BREAKS, and it's completely spot-on. "You're a daisy if you do!"

#3. The redunkulous cast of supporting players. From Powers Boothe to Michael Biehn to Bill Paxton to Michael Rooker to Terry O'Quinn to Billy Zane to Charlton Heston to Billy Bob Thornton to a Robert Mitchum narration, they're all here. And they're all brilliant.

#4. Co-written by John Fasano, director of the infamous ROCK N' ROLL NIGHTMARE (reviewed here). Damn! That's gotta get points for something!

#5. The fact that it's the only film Kurt Russell ever directed. (Everyone says that he usurped control from the ghost-directing George Cosmatos (who "directed" COBRA and RAMBO: FIRST BLOOD PART II for Stallone) and refashioned the script, flow, and structure, even at the expense of his own screentime).

And the film's got all the energy, humility, dignity, sincerity, and intensity that one would expect from Russell, along with one of his best performances since THE THING (and this was his follow-up to CAPTAIN RON). "You tell 'em I'M coming... and hell's coming with me, you hear?... Hell's coming with me!"

-Sean Gill