"Dolemite, motherfucker!"

Rudy Ray Moore, better known as Dolemite, passed away today at 81. Rudy had done it all: stand up comedian, actor, movie director, and master of pimp-fu. He will be missed.

With all of the posturing in the indie movie world of today, Moore did it before it was cool, when low-budget films were an economic necessity, not simply a style co-opted by studio boutique divisions. Moore made films on his own terms outside Hollywood for thirty years, always adhering to the credo, "Thank you for letting us be ourselves."

I met the man earlier this year. He was in poor health, confined to a wheelchair with a broken hip. He appeared confused, his quick wit dulled with age and infirmity. Often, he was unable to finish his famous routines without prompting. There was an air of sadness about the proceedings; a gaggle of white hipsters gathered in an arthouse lobby half-gawking at an old man. This was the man who had a top-25 selling comedy album, starred in movies, and was acknowledged by no less than Snoop Dogg as a major influence.

But on a one-on-one level, I found him personable and pleasant. Moore told us of his time in the Army, where he first plied his trade as a stand up comedian while stationed in Germany. He even conversed in German with a lady in the crowd. My heart goes out to the man; even at 80, he was still on the road, living life.

It touches even this jive-talking, rat soup eatin', honkey motherfucker.

Watchmen

Landing moments before The Dark Knight is the trailer for another hotly anticipated superhero epic: Jack Snyder's Watchmen (2009). Adapted from Alan Moore (From Hell, V for Vendetta) and Dave Gibbons' landmark 1986-7 graphic novel, Watchmen was a revelation in the comics world, garnering an unprecedented level of critical praise and influencing countless comics since. It won a Hugo, a first (and last) for the form. It wove an uncommonly dense and literate story, deftly critiquing the genre it embodied with layers of metafiction, alternate history, and Freudian analysis.

Snyder is still unproven with a dense, character driven story like Watchmen. After two decades of false starts with the likes of Terry Gilliam, Paul Greengrass, and Darren Aronofsky, this guy finally gets the shot? Really? His remake of Dawn of the Dead (2003) was exciting and technically competent, but lacked any of the social commentary or strong characterizations of George Romero's 1979 original. And 300 (2007), adapted from Frank Miller's graphic novel, was an exercise in pure style, an epic ode to testosterone that somehow managed to be both homoerotic and homophobic. (Kind of like pro wrestling.) These films boast attractive surfaces and visceral thrills, but little to linger in the mind afterward.

But the trailer gives me hope. Cut precisely to the Smashing Pumpkins track "The Beginning is the End is the Beginning," it looks simply amazing. (A neat reversal; it's a remix of a song in one of the worst comic book movies.) Working from a draft by X-Men scribe David Hayter and Alex Tse, Snyder keeps in so many of the things that make Watchmen special. The scope, and fidelity to the source is simply staggering. Sharp-eyed viewers are rewarded with a number of astonishing details: Tricky Dick on TV, the brand of hairspray Rorschach wields, Dr. Manhattan's expression moments before becoming something more that human. The promise of the Vietnam and Mars scenes alone have me giddy with anticipation. (Physically, Veidt looks a little off, however.)

The real worry is the way Warner Bros. is marketing this movie. This is not Spider-Man or even Batman Begins. These characters do not benefit from years in the public consciousness. These are introspective, dark, middle aged antiheroes in a $100 million dollar, political, R-rated, two-and-one-half-hour period piece spanning the 30's through the 80's set against the backdrop of the Cold War. I doubt any of the tween ticket buyers were a proverbial gleam in their fathers' eyes when the USSR rolled into (and out of) Afghanistan. The action beats of Moore's story are perfunctory, yet the trailer sells them hardest; the real conflicts are largely philosophical and emotional. Perhaps the topicality of the material (note the skyline behind the Owl Ship) in out post 9-11 will strike a cord with audiences.

If not, Zack Snyder might have the next great cult film on his hands.

Check out the trailer here.

Quantum of Solace

Casino Royale (2006) was a revelation. For the first time in decades, attending a James Bond picture was not simply a joyless, long-observed ritual. There was finally a new Bond picture worthy of genuine excitement.

For years, Bond fans hoped in vain that some of the old 60's magic would return. Casino Royale brought it back in spades: The girls. The villain. The coolness. Like Batman Begins, it successfully rebooted a franchise that had grown sillier and sillier over the years (I'm looking at you, Roger Moore) imbuing it with a renewed sense of energy and added emotional depth. It also boasted an intricate, modernized origin story, concessions to third wave feminism, and several plausible, expertly executed action sequences. (They even bothered to faithfully adapt the book!) Daniel Craig, Bond Actor Number Six (Yes, six. Forget Barry Nelson. And for that matter, forget David Niven.) was tough, surly, and seductive. Surely even the most ardent "James Blonde" haters must now admit: Craig IS Bond.

After successfully rebooting the franchise twice (Goldeneye was the first) Royale director Martin Campbell handed the reigns over to Finding Neverland's Marc Forster, who seemed like a curious choice until you realize, hey, Michael Apted of all people directed The World Is Not Enough (1999). Foster, more known for the emotional introspection of Monster's Ball and The Kite Runner, said of the Bond character: “People travel a lot more now, and with the Internet they’re more aware of what the rest of the world is like. In a way the most interesting place for a James Bond movie to go is inward — deeper into Bond himself.” Bond held no appeal to Forster until Royale plumed the depth of the character's origin and damaged psyche.

Quantum of Solace is a direct sequel to Casino Royale, an unconventional move. Borrowing only its cryptic title from an Ian Flemming short story, it follows Bond on his quest for revenge on the organization employing the enigmatic Mr. White (Jesper Christensen). Each previous Bond film functioned as a self-contained episode; each adventure was fun, with few long-term consequences. The new Bond is shaping up to be a very different animal; very little solace is expected.

The Solace trailer looks as tough and as hard hitting as Royale. Let's hope it's an inner journey worth taking.

Click here for the trailer.

Rob Zombie's Tyrannosaurus Rex

A bit of promotional art for Rob Zombie's next flick, Tyrannosaurs Rex, hit the net yesterday. Despite the amusingly filthy tag line and the garish Frank Frazetta meets Enzo G. Castellari artwork, one can't help but groan a little when seeing this thing. Hasn't Rob gone down this tired road before?

And more that once: Rob’s terrible debut, House of 1000 Corpses, was an little more than an extended Texas Chain Saw Massacre homage. His shockingly good sequel, The Devil’s Rejects, took his psychobilly clan on the road, moving through the plot outline of Empire Strikes Back. In 2007, Zombie swapped Tobe Hooper for John Carpenter, remaking Carpenter’s seminal Halloween into a joyless hash. (His Grindhouse fake trailer contribution Werewolf Women of the SS can't even get it's homages straight.)

In his defense, Zombie has chops as a director. Visually, his work is admirable, alternating gritty realism (the seedy hotel from Rejects) with formal beauty (the slow motion apocalypse of Rejects ending.) His portrayals of violence are unflinching and nasty, but laced with black humor. His films are steeped in genre history and lore, giving perfect roles to aging genre icons (Bill Mosley, Ken Foree, Sid Haig, Michael Berryman etc.).

Why does his work feel so second hand?

Even his best moment feel cribbed from other films. Despite how lovingly crafted they are, Corpses and Rejects feel like the world's most elaborate Tobe Hooper homages, muting their potentially subversive edges. Showcasing levels graphic violence, profanity, and general nastiness seldom seen in mainstream features, Zombie strives for the type of in-your-face punch that Quentin Tarantino pulls of with aplomb. It’s hard to take things seriously when the whole thing feels like a giant in-joke filled put-on. Tarantino can synthesize his myriad influences into something that feels original. Zombie’s best efforts feel second hand.

Taking a look at that Tyrannosaurs Rex poster again, I can’t help but feel déjà-vu. The tag line uses the words "motherfucker" and “son-of-a-bitch," familiar from nearly every line of Zombie dialogue. The guy in the middle is clearly Danny Trejo. Sheri Moon Zombie is the blonde. Ken Foree, maybe, as the guy on the left? The wrecked vehicles suggest a stab at Mad Max-type dystopia. Perhaps Zombie will add George Miller to his catalog of influences?

It might be premature to judge a film from just a poster, but Zombie’s track record suggests otherwise.

Source.

Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

Too Much Soft Living (1982) is a classic 80's film. A druggy descent into the depths of madness. A subversive underground manifesto parading as a gleaming tech-noir adventure. A bastard love child of William S. Burroughs and Phillip K. Dick. A cult classic ranking with Brother From Another Planet, Liquid Sky, and Blade Runner. And it has a killer, highly collectible soundtrack album.

Too bad it doesn't really exist. At least, the movie doesn't exist.

Special Affect was a Chiago- based new wave/ glam band fronted by the flamboyant Frankie Nardiello, later known as Groovie Mann of My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult. Drumming was handled by Harry Rushakoff, later of Concrete Blonde. Playing guitar was Al Jourgensen, who would soon form his own new wave outfit, Ministry. After releasing one EP and one "soundtrack" album, Affect called it a day.

Too Much Soft Living joins the ranks of a small, but curious musical genre: unused but released film scores. Notable examples include Alex North's bombastic 2001: A Space Obyssey score, John Zorn's Tresspass noodling, and Coil's industrial Hellraiser score.


It is unclear if the film Soft Living was ever real or not. Was it simply and unfinished work? Little seen or unreleased? Could a lost classic could be gathering dust in some Chicago basement? Let's not forget that My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult was formed in order to make an eponymous "B" movie. Lacking funds or technical know how, the project mutated into a band. Maybe this was Frankie's first attempt?

Or maybe it was just a gimmick for a bunch of young, hungry musicians to get press.

The Cycle of Life

...according to John Boorman's 1974 acid freak-out, Zardoz:

Xenogenesis

Xenogenesis (1978) is James Cameron's first film. Essentially a 12 minute demo reel for the young director's stop-motion prowess, it predates even his god-awful feature directorial debut, Piranha II: The Spawning. Six years later, The Terminator would become a runaway hit, and thirteen years after that, Cameron would be the King of the World, winning a fistfull of Oscars for his "200 million dollar chick flick," Titanic. In between he would make a series of popular, thoughtful, character-driven genre films that reinvented special effects technology without sacrificing storytelling prowess.

Despite its ambition and impressive do-it-yourself special effects, Xenogenesis didn't become a feature, but it did get the fledgling Canadian filmmaker a gig at New World Pictures in the art department. He toiled on Roger Corman flicks like Android, Battle Beyond the Stars and Galaxy of Terror, even doing some matte painting for John Carpenter's Escape From New York. Under Corman, he formed a partnership with an ambitious young producer named Gale Ann Hurd Together, they would put together The Terminator, Aliens, and The Abyss.

The robot-battling soldier of the future in Xenogenesis is played by William Wisher, who would co-write Terminator and Terminator 2: Judgment Day. The credited co-writer/director/ producer, Randy Frakes, would help Wisher, Cameron, and Hurd write The Terminator's screenplay and pen the novelizations of the first two Terminator movies.

The striking thing about this short are the number of future Cameron tropes and images on display. Man vs. machine. The apocalypse. Man's need to repopulate a dying world. Mechs with tank treads. Tough female characters. It rivals Martin Scorsese's Who's That Knocking at My Door? for sheer number of seminal directorly moments. All of his themes were there from the beginning: