First Look Studios

"The Earth. A world of water. Nearly three-quarters of our planet is covered in a massive blue patchwork of seas and oceans. What lies beneath the surface is an alien realm we've barely begun to explore. Within these depths mysterious and amazing life forms live in a beautiful but fragile world of immeasurable variety and environmental extremes. This is a journey into the Wild Deep."

Wild Deep is a seven-part nature series that takes us on a journey to the underwater worlds of each of the Earth's continents. While there is some coverage of the lands themselves, the focus here is what happens beneath the surface of those lands' oceans. The show ran on Animal Planet starting in January of 2013.

Leaves of Grass, the latest film from writer/director/actor Tim Blake Nelson, is one of those rare films that defies both description and expectation. While marketed as a violent stoner comedy along the lines of Pineapple Express, Leaves of Grass is far more difficult to categorize. Yes, there is comedy, though not as much or of the type one would expect. And yes, there is violence, but a far more realistic and less cartoony variety than you would think. But there is much more to this little film - there is thought and reflection and philosophy and poetry behind every piece of dialogue, and you get drawn into it so that, halfway through the film, it doesn’t even strike you as odd that you just watched Keri Russell recite Walt Whitman while gutting a catfish.

As the film opens, we are introduced to the lead character, Bill Kincaid (Edward Norton in the first of his two roles here), a Classical Philosophy professor at Brown. We meet him as he lectures an adoring group of students on Plato and soon afterward is fighting off the advances of a young female student. Bill is clearly a brilliant academic, and is being courted by the big schools. We also learn about his humble roots; he grew up poor in a little town near Tulsa, and earned his way into the academic elite.

If you're the kind of person who feels the need to understand, at least, what kind of film you're watching, then this movie must be avoided at all costs. It wasn't until the bonus features when I discovered that this was, in reality, intended as a dark comedy more than anything else. There were certainly signs in the movie that might have led me to that conclusion, not the least of which is a 2-minute Iguana Cam moment that had me questioning what might have found its way into my iced tea. The other clue should have been the over the top caricature of a character I found in the performance of Nicolas Cage. But then, the trouble with Cage is, you really never know for sure when he's kidding around or trying to be drop dead serious. In any case, even armed with that information, I'm not sure it's possible to pin this film down to any particular genre or style.

Part of the problem comes from the movie's title. We are immediately led to believe that this movie might have something to do with the Harvey Keitel film, Bad Lieutenant. It does not. Even director Herzog was very unhappy with the studio’s decision to tie the film to those expectations by using the franchise title. Of course, it was intended to add some kind of name value recognition to the project. It didn't really work at all. The film only played at just under a hundred screens and pulled in less than $2 million of its $25 million budget. So no one was buying the misleading name. You'd think many times that number would have checked it out just to see what Cage was up to.

We're into the serious world of high concept now, people. Remember all those struggles D.W. Griffith and Sergei Eisenstein went through to establish cinema as a legitimate art form? Well, this here flick sure makes all those struggles worthwhile. Big Red – midget, former mascot, porn star – dies, and leaves his millions to be fought over by midget-hating son and gold-digging wife. The terms of the battle: each must coach one of the titular teams through a series of ridiculous contests and pranks.

What we have, then, is a mixture of story with would-be outrageous stunts, some real, some staged. In other words, not unlike the work of Sacha Baron Cohen. That is, if you removed every semblance of wit, intelligence and satirical bite from his work, and tossed in Ron Jeremy and Gary Coleman.  The film is sophomoric and puerile, which is exactly what it wants to be, but it also works far too hard to get reach those goals. Depressing.

The ice caps have melted, leaving only 10% of the world livable, according to the opening narration of this adventure/disaster film. Salvaging relics from “lost” cities is a means of making money for our heroes, a boat crew that comprises of James Brolin as a Captain with a secret connection to the Vatican, and his two sons. As they pick up goodies to trade or sell they also search for clues towards a grand solution to the global flooding problem that the Vatican is housing.

Cheesy horror-fests can often be cringe worthy. Take a couple of actors, have a few supporting ones that die and put them in a plot where either they face some giant disgusting creature, a ridiculous serial killer or a lot of little pests. The heroes no matter how bumbling they might be somehow come out with the victory and the rest is cinema magic. We received one such movie with the title: Infestation. Maybe this would be the one that is a little better than the rest?

Cooper (played by Chris Marquette) is a slacker. He goes through life just making from one day to the next. He works at a local call center where he is always late and in the middle of obnoxious games. Today, he is late as usual and tries to make it seem like he is working to no avail. It just so happens he is called into his bosses' office. As the boss, Maureen (played by Deborah Geffner) looks like she is about to fire the young employee, a loud screeching sound is made. People cover their ears and everything goes to black.

Horror fans have suffered through a severe case of déjà vu of late. All of the major titles of the 80’s and 90’s slasher cycle have now been either remade or are currently in production. There isn’t a big title remaining. Now it appears anything is fair game. Are we really that desolate of originality in this modern age? Today no cult classic or bomb is safe from being regurgitated back to us in either a theatrical release. Or, more likely, a direct to DVD project. In some cases, I’ve welcomed the occasional re-release, if the new film has something new to offer while remaining true to the source material. I actually liked the Mummy films. They don’t really look anything like the Universal classics, but they were kind of a nice ride, so my sensibilities weren’t all that shaken up. I’m looking forward to the Wolf Man film coming soon from Universal. It appears that the movie will be quite an homage to the original, yet satisfy the more modern needs of today’s filmgoers. But for every film that deserves a second look, there are countless movies that had already played out their string. It’s Alive is one of those.

Larry Cohen ended up with an unexpected cult success on his hands when he delivered the low budget original film back in 1974. He wrote and directed the effort, and it was a pretty good hit. It told the story of an unsuspecting mother who gives birth to a carnivorous mutant with an unending hunger for fresh meat. It was a sweet Halloween treat back then. But Cohen decided to milk that baby for all that he could. In 1978 he churned out It Lives Again and finally in in 1987 he delivered his third and final baby with It’s Alive II: The Island Of The Alive. Each entry scored lower than the last, and finally It was dead. But that’s just not how Hollywood rolls these days.

As a kid, I was a huge Lost In Space fan. We loved Dr. Smith in particular and would go around our neighborhoods moaning, “The pain, oh the pain” in some mock imitation of the deliciously bad character. I think I finally know what he was talking about. I’m a man, and so I won’t even begin to pretend that I can understand what labor pains feel like. I believe it when I’m told there’s no worse suffering in the human experience, except for one. Yes, my gentle female readers, no matter how much torture childbirth might be for you, I bet it can’t compare to the mental anguish of having to sit through Labor Pains. Since this film was written and directed by women, I suspect it just might actually be some female plot to get guys like me to appreciate true suffering.

In the first place, we have Lindsay Lohan. I mean seriously. Is there anyone out there who actually thinks she’s a gifted actress? Is she really on anyone’s dream cast? Name one good movie she’s been involved in. I hear someone in the back screaming out Mean Girls. Forget about it. She has a reputation of showing up whenever she feels like it, arguing or downright fighting with cast and crew. She’s been known to “accidentally” walk off with stuff that doesn’t belong to her, and she’s pretty much a temper tantrum throwing brat when she doesn’t get her way. I’m tired of the press hanging on each and every emotion implosion like it was actually important. Do you really care how many times she splits up and gets back together with her lesbian DJ friend? How many pictures do we need of her crying on the lady’s front porch beggin’ for another chance, only to be dropping F bombs in anger a day later? The woman’s a train wreck. Is it any surprise at all that her films are crap? I can honestly say knowing all of these gross intimate details has not improved the quality of my life. What would help my job as a reviewer is if she’d stop trying to make movies. In a nice piece of irony, a character asks Thea if she wants people to see her as a “wayward skank”. Well…Lindsay?

How do you like your eggs? Scrambled or easy over? Hitchcock despised eggs and thought they were absolutely disgusting, to the point of intentionally mutilating a plate in many of his films. What about Easter Eggs? No, I’m not talking about hidden features in your latest DVD or Blu-ray release. I’m talking those colored hardboiled variety left by a furry bunny during the Easter season. When I was a kid they came in all sizes and varieties, and even though I really don’t like hardboiled eggs all that much I was a whiz at finding the things, and I’d hoard them as if I suspected an approaching Armageddon and these babies might be the only food left for thousands of miles. Now the Russians. They knew a little something about their eggs, particularly the last two reigning monarchs in the famed Romanov Dynasty. They had consigned Easter Eggs from the world renowned jeweler Carl Faberge. These eggs were extraordinary examples of luxury and excess. They were adorned in precious metals and rare gems and stones. Two of these eggs play a vital role in the latest release from Revolution and First Look Studio’s The Code.

Gabriel Martin (Banderas) is a thief. In the middle of his latest job he is approached by Keith Ripley (Freeman), yet another world renowned thief. Ripley needs a partner for his latest heist. He has a buyer for two Faberge Eggs that are previously unknown and worth an estimated $40 million. The eggs are kept in a high end security vault by the appropriately named Romanov Company. Gabriel is reluctant to do the job but is eventually persuaded to join the effort. He’s helped in no small part to join by meeting Ripley’s goddaughter, Alex (Mitchell). They have an immediate attraction, much to the displeasure of the all business Ripley. Together they mastermind the heist.

Mike Riggins (Lundgren) has been languishing away in a Russian prison for many years. So he doesn’t have anything to lose when he’s approached by the CIA to help them save a young woman who has been kidnapped. The government needs Riggins’ special set of skills, namely the ability to cause a lot of carnage in a short amount of time. If he rescues the girl, he gets 20 grand and sprung from prison. Of course, everything is not what it seems to be, and the government really just wants Riggins dead. After about an hour and a half of shooting and mayhem a lot of people end up dead, but Lundgren is still technically alive. I say technically because as far as I can tell Dolph Lundgren has been brain dead since 1985 when his acting career began with A View To A Kill. But, like the energizer bunny he keeps going, and going, and going.

The plot isn’t anything all that imaginative; in fact it’s pretty simple. But the other thing that’s simple is the acting of one Dolph Lundgren. Lately we’ve been hearing a lot about torture and inhumane treatment of prisoners. There are apparently international laws on such things, but the Geneva Convention folks have turned the other way as Lundgren continues to subject audiences to what can only be described as cruel and inhuman punishment. I guess as a Constitutional scholar I could make an implied consent argument here, if you’re actually insane enough to pick up one of these films. It’s not like it’s a secret. If you watch these Lundgren films, particularly the direct to video stuff, you already know what you’re getting. I’m sure Lundgren’s folks have been opting for direct to video because too many moviegoers have been throwing stuff at the theater screens. The theory is they are less likely to act violently to their own 2 grand flat screen.