Series

I had a decided advantage going into the Michael Bay extravagance that is Transformers. Unlike the majority of the film’s target audience, I have had almost no exposure to the other incarnations of Transformers. I was already too old for the toys when Hasbro launched them, and so it was true for the cartoon and comic versions that quickly followed. Like everyone else I have a passing familiarity with the things, but nothing more. How is that an advantage, you might very well ask. Like any film that dares to attempt material often considered sacred by its followers, Transformers had to play the game of expectations.

Do you know what happens when creative people get toys and wacked out people get a tv show? Robot Chicken happens. The first season was a great success on Adult Swim, so that meant two things. One, creators Seth Green and Matthew Senreich would be able to move out of their parent's house (okay, not really) and we would get Season 2. Robot Chicken for those who don't know is toy figures (or special sculpted toys) put to life in hilarious sketches and parodies with the use of stop motion capture technology.

Quentin Tarantino's Deathproof need no longer be sad and alone on your DVD shelf. Robert Rodriguez's Planet Terror - Extended and Unrated (Two-Disc Special Edition) streets October 18, completing the one-two-punch release of the directors' Grindhouse double feature.

Separating these two schlock-fests begs the question, which one's better? Don't ask me. I didn't catch Grindhouse in theatres, and haven't gotten around to Deathproof on DVD. All I can tell you is Planet Terror throws down 105 minutes of mindless, campy and gory fun. So pop your lid, take out your brain and enjoy. But don't leave that brain unattended, 'cause there be zombies about.

For decades it was the doomsday scenario. Cold War Americans lived in almost constant fear that the Soviets might drop a nuke on us and begin Armageddon. It was unthinkable that a conventional invasion could reach our shores instead. Red Dawn stirred its own mushroom cloud of controversy when it reached theaters in August of 1984. While the Cold War was actually closer to its end than any of us might have suspected, Red Dawn entered our collective consciousness as a shock to a system that had for some time moved beyond the culture of fear those older than myself knew growing up. By the 1970’s the air raid sirens and classroom drills were no longer commonplace in American cities.

Scientists Edward Pretorious (Ted Sorel) and Crawford Tillinghast (Jeffrey Coombs) successfully construct a machine (dubbed the “Resonator”) that links our world with another, hostile dimension. Pretorious gets his head bitten off by something summoned by the machine, while Tillinghast is incarcerated in an asylum. Psychiatrist Katherine McMichaels (Barbara Crampton) believes Tillinghast’s story when she discovers his pineal gland is growing enormously, and she has him released into her custody to recreate the experiment. Baaad idea.

There are two very distinctive schools of thought about Walt Disney’s The Jungle Book. There are the Kipling fanatics who have never forgiven Disney for taking a story considered sacred in literary circles and creating something that honestly bears (pardon the pun) little resemblance to the original work. These folks rightfully point out that the story contains almost nothing recognizable about the story and characters from Kipling’s beloved classic. I have often condemned projects that take names like The Night Stalker and Battlestar Galactica and create a vision incompatible with the traditions I associate with them. Therefore this review might seem a bit hypocritical when I tell you I side with the other camp that considers this film to be a milestone, not only in Disney animation, but in animation history itself.

The style of "Grindhouse" films were something of a cult legend. More often than not, they were crazy over-the-top horror movies or action movies that had insane action that usually involved a body count that could rival an Arrrrrnold flic. These were referred to commonly as "B" flics due to the shoddy quality of the films. Video would be scratched up, missing reels were all over the place and audio would drop at the most inconvenient moment. More often than not they would be shown at some crusty drive-in for the change in your pocket. Fast forward to 2007 where Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez decided to resurrect the forgotten genre and brings us two movies (Death Proof and Planet Terror) to the screen.

2004 brought moviegoers two big-budget historical epics in Oliver Stone's Alexander and Wolfgang Petersen's Troy. One bombed. The other performed well, but was by no means heralded as a critical success. No, Troy was praised for slick production values and exciting battles, but derided for a lack of emotional depth.

Can it all be blamed on running-time constraints and compromises made for the ratings board? The answer is here, with the unrated Troy: Director's Cut, Petersen's second shot at eternal glory, this time with more than 30 minutes of additional footage.

If it’s 1977, this must be softcore, and so it is. Vanessa is a another lush sexual travelogue, dug up from the archives and given a rather spiffy release from Severin. Yet another product cast in the Emmanuelle mould, Vanessa has its titular heroine leave her convent home (gee, what sort of nonsense do you think we find out happened there?) after she comes into a large inheritance. Flying to Hong Kong, she finds out that this inheritance consists of a chain of high-end brothels. Cue the exotic locations and varied sexual encounters. There’s nothing hugely striking or original about any of this, but as an example its type, it’s quite handsomely mounted, makes some eyebrow-raising use of classical music, and has a couple of scenes that (almost) reach a (kind of) frenzy (all proportions maintained).

It’s back, yet again, and looking for more brains. Dan O’Bannon’s lively zombie comedy tells the tale of a toxic spill reanimating corpses who, not content with wanting to eat your brains, are going to give you lip about it at the same time. Notable for its mix of horror, punk rock, gore, humour and nudity (this is the film that established Linnea Quigley as a horror starlet), the film has since been bested in terms of wit and gore by both Dead/Alive and Shaun of the Dead, but it was there first, and remains great fun. Never having caught the film in the theatres, I haven’t noticed anything amiss with the soundtrack, but the chatter out there among the film’s fans lets it be known that some of the songs have been truncated, so be warned on that front. Otherwise, have a blast.