There was once a place called a grindhouse where one could go to watch “B” movies. Ever since Hollywood co-opted the “B” movie and renamed it “the summer tent pole” movie, the grindhouse has moved into the living room. That’s right, the only place to check out truly fun, low budget grindhouse movies is on your DVD player (and no, the Tarantino/Rodgriquez effort wasn’t true grindhouse fare, there was simply too much money involved.) So, as a lover of trash cinema, I wind up watching a shitload of straight-to-DVD movies. Most of them are unwatchable “DIY” features shot on home video cameras by amateurs who have no idea how to turn a shoestring budget into an entertaining story (and they also have no idea what it means to show instead of tell as these movies generally feature terrible and unattractive actors explaining to each other about what is happening/going to happen while the hapless audience slowly sinks into their throw pillows praying for a quick and painless end.) Continue reading Straight-to-DVD Corner with Todd: Killer Croc Movies
All posts by Todd
The X-Files: I Just Want to Leave (A love letter for Marissa)
Dearest, purest Marissa,
You can do a lot better love letter-wise than nonsense promises made by Steve Falk at the end of commentaries that he couldn’t stand doing even though they’re completely his own damn fault, but here goes. (And this is the last one I’m doing, anyone else who insists on sending angry demands, sitting through the Bratz commentary in its entirety is really your fault, not mine. And I’m tired of writing love letters. I know this is only my second one, but don’t you understand? I’m so very tired.) I figure since you are such a Pigs fan, Marissa, and clearly the same kind of movie junkie that we are, the best kind of sweet nothings I can whisper in your innocent ears are warnings about lame movies you may not have yet seen. (If you have, well, again not my fault.) Continue reading The X-Files: I Just Want to Leave (A love letter for Marissa)
Pick Your Computer Generated Poison
My friend told me she fell asleep during Hellboy II which led me to believe I’d hate it, too, but I went anyway because that’s just how much I like Ron Perlman. I was pleasantly surprised to find I was actually entertained by the CGI heavy picture show. I wondered why it was my friend fell asleep. Then I remembered that she had gotten a kick out of Iron Man and that one put me to sleep. Both movies lean on cartoons and loud noises to deliver their thrills. And even though I was amused by Hellboy II I can’t say I was so swept up by the action that I forgot where I was. I was very aware that I was a watching a big, silly summer movie the entire time I was watching it. So, why didn’t it put me to sleep? Well, I think it just boils down to a taste thing. While most of America seems to get off on watching a rich dude building a metal suit, I prefer watching monsters beating up other monsters. In the end, it’s all the cinematic equivelant of a cheap beer buzz. Sometimes you’re in the mood for cheap beer and you have a laugh, other times it just makes you tired as hell. Continue reading Pick Your Computer Generated Poison
An Open Love Letter To Pete and Laxdude
Dearest Pete and Laxdude,
Forgive the time it’s taken me to write this heartfelt love letter that Stephen Falk promised I would write to anyone who watched all of Bratz (right after he threw a tantrum that would have embarrassed my actual two-year-old.) I have been quite busy not making any money.
It’s Pigs fans like you that make it all worthwhile. Pete, your dedication to listening to our drunken ramblings during mostly horrid picture shows warms my cockles. (Not a dirty word. Look it up. Freak.) And Laxdude, your love of pie and the guy who played the station manager in the indie feature Buttleman along with your dislike of Lunchables makes us kindred spirits (although I find all three forms of Battlestar Galactica’s incredibly long stretches without space battles eternally frustrating, I have no idea what the difference is between union and league rugby, and I find it disconcerting that you paid money to see Hot Rod. But, still. Kindred spirits.) Continue reading An Open Love Letter To Pete and Laxdude
Raping Matthew Modine with a Bear Suit
Yes, I realize this title looks offensive. But I swear to you I don’t have anything against Matthew Modine, and I don’t think rape is funny (usually.) But I’m compelled to deal with this issue anyway, for reasons I can’t quite explain.
Four weeks ago I watched a movie from the eighties called The Hotel New Hampshire. I had no intention of writing about it because it seems completely irrelevent at this stage in time. So irrelevent, in fact, that I saw this on my Tivo after recording it off of the Encore Love Channel almost two years ago. The damn movie probably isn’t airing on that niche channel anymore, and I haven’t had premium channels for a long time, so the channel itself may not even exist anymore for all I know.
Why did I record it and watch it, then? I saw the name while aimlessly searching for movies to record, and I had a vivid memory of the theatrical trailer. The movie was sold as your basic eighties coming-of-age exploitation movie, and because I was a high school loser whose only shot at seeing naked boobs was in movies, I’m sure I wanted to see the hell out of it. I never did, however, because when I expressed my interest to a friend, he informed me that the movie made no sense and had almost no boob shots. Instead, I rented Screwballs and was extremely pleased.
Why the hell am I so happy?
Today was a day like any other day. I spent most of the day in the car. I had to dress up like a frog for a commercial audition. After that proud moment, on my way back to my car, I walked by another car filled with young girls and when they got a good look at me one of them said in an extremely audible fashion, “Hell, no!” (I wasn’t making an overtures. But she really wanted me to know, anyway.) Continue reading Why the hell am I so happy?