I have often wondered how blood feuds got started in the western times. The Hatfield and McCoy feud is the most legendary, of course, except before long how the whole ordeal started just became a bunch of he said/she said. In the case of Echoes of War, it turns out that the feud that is sparked between the McCluskeys and the Rileys began over a just cause; however, the battle was bit one-sided and slow-paced for my liking. Not the mention the film does a bit of a 360 on me that really turns me against the person I spent the entire movie sympathizing with.

The McCluskeys and Rileys are neighboring families who both have suffered tragedy recently. The McCluskeys lost a son in the war, and their business has been reduced to near nothingness; most of their cattle were commandeered by soldiers, leaving them with next to nothing. The Rileys lost a mother to illness, and the return of her brother Wade (James Badge Dale) provides another mouth to feed when food is already scarce. The Rileys make their living trapping animals and selling their pelts. One day while out with his nephew, Wade notices that the McCluskeys have been poaching from their traps without even offering to share the spoils that rightfully belong to the family. His brother in law Seamus knows what the family is doing and has no intention of speaking of or taking action.

by Dustin P. Anderson

Jaden and friends are back for another semester at dual academy. Some friends have changed, like Syrus, who is now a Ra Yellow, and Cyrus’ brother Zane, who is now in the Pro League. This time, since Jaden’s old pal Chumley is gone, he is joined by another Ra Yellow student, Tyranno Hassleberry, a dinosaur dualist with a military mindset; however, with new friends comes a new evil for Jaden to fight, the light: a mind-controlling entity that is taking over the school, trying to take over the world, and has Jaden is in his crosshairs. Can Jaden save his friends, and save the world, without getting controlled by the light?

Big blockbusters rule the summer. Sequels and reboots and remakes are demanded by a public that wants sure things. There are no sure things any more, but the big Hollywood studios try to form committees that take as much chance out of the equation as possible. But even in the middle of a summer ruled by big blockbuster, there is a school of thought that counter programming can work. You have to give the makers of Self/Less credit for releasing a non-sequel and one with such an odd title. Self/Less stars Ryan Reynolds and Ben Kingsley, which is an odd but interesting pairing. But it is an awkward pairing, and they don't share any words in the film, because they share a body. Reynolds has done this kind of thing before in the movie The Change-up with Jason Bateman. In Self/Less, Kingsley plays a billionaire who is dying. He coughs up $250,000,000 to get a new body in a process called shredding. If you have $250,000,000, you can get just about anything.

Kingsley plays New York Real Estate developer Damien Hale, who has one of the gaudiest and glitziest apartments imaginable (in the Trump Towers). He also sports a New York accent that reminded me of Dustin Hoffman. When he coughs up blood one too many times, he coughs up the money to a super-secret medical genius Albright (Matthew Goode), who provides the cutting-edge miracle cure. Damien is shuttled from New York to New Orleans where he will be killed and then reborn. He has a public death and is then smuggled to a remote warehouse where the clandestine facility is located. It gives off the vibe of being a highly illegal operation, which it is, but that's only half of it. Albright claims the replacement bodies are grown in the lab, but he's lying. These are not new bodies, but slightly used.

"There was a time when, if you told me werewolves existed that I would have laughed. I don't laugh at much anymore."

From the very beginning one can see there is great potential here. The show is based on a collection of books that appear to be popular. They're called The Outworld series, written by Canadian author Kelley Armstrong. The show avoids most of the standard clichés. There is no full moon reference at all here. The werewolves "change" at will or when emotionally charged (“you won't like me when I'm angry”). There are no silver bullets. These guys might be stronger and harder to kill than a human, but severe body trauma or blood loss kills them just like anyone else. No pentagrams or wolfbane to be found in the show. 

by Dustin P. Anderson

There is no real story here. This is set as a competition/reality TV Series. The goal is for one team of survivors to get out of an infected zombie prison. The twist is that the contestants are all YouTube personalities. They must first get out of the room they wake up in, then go to get an antidote, then give the antidote to a doctor, then get out of the facility. The concept for this was intriguing, but the application was sloppy at best. During the entire production you are reminded of how low-budget this series is, whether you are listening to the overly cliché horror music or getting motion sickness from the camera. First the music: the music reminds me of the same backdrop I could hear in a thousand other straight-to-DVD horror movies or reality TV series (like listening to the music in Killjoy, mixed with the music from Hell’s Kitchen). After listening to it for a 51-minute runtime, it became akin to nails on a chalkboard. Now to the camera work: the camera switched from looking like security camera footage, to cell phone video, to actual movie camera; this way of filming made the action hard to follow. Half the time I didn’t recognize which team I was following; the other half of the time I was annoyed at the people participating and didn’t care which team I was following. I can understand a budgetary constraint, but people have done more with less (like Kevin Smith with Clerks).

In 1976 a New York media group conducted a survey of the NYPD detectives. The question was: “Of all the TV cop shows, which most accurately portrays life as a detective?” The overwhelming response was the comedy Barney Miller. Seems real cops related to the daily grind and weekly wackos of Barney Miller. Let’s not put aside that this was also one of the most consistently funny shows on television. I remember it took me a while to accept Abe Vigoda in such a light role as Fish. My first exposure to Vigoda was the ruthless mobster in The Godfather. Barney Miller always managed to be funny while still telling a good short story. The characters were always wonderful.

Captain Barney Miller (Linden) was in charge of the detective squad at New York’s 12th Precinct. Among his detectives were a colorful group of odd individuals. Detective Ron Harris (Glass) wrote a book that detailed his life as a New York detective. It was called Blood On The Badge and was far more fiction than fact. He prided himself on his stylish clothes and culture. Arthur Dietrich (Landesberg) was a know-it-all. He had an almost encyclopedic base knowledge on everything and anything. He would bore his colleagues with his endless drone of facts. Stan “Wojo” Wojciehowics (Gail) was the typical New Yorker everyman. He might not have been the sharpest tool in the box, but he more than made up for it in heart. At times his desire to show initiative would end up getting the squad in trouble. From time to time the squad would be visited by the clueless Inspector Luger (Gregory). He often reminisced about his glory days and often expressed regret that he didn’t go down in a blaze of glory like his old friends had. Fans knew the names Foster, Kline and Browning as three of Luger's old buddies who were long since gone. He was usually intruding upon the squad’s time with long, pointless stories. Finally, patrolman Levitt (Carey) was an ambitious uniformed officer who wanted to become a part of the squad, which he eventually did.

There's a moment about halfway through Slow West where the two main characters partake in some absinthe. What follows is a disquietingly vivid dream and our two “heroes” essentially wobbling around until sobering up the next morning.The sequence is actually a pretty perfect encapsulation of what it feels like to watch Slow West, a woozy and refreshingly off-center entry into the Western canon.

Once upon a time, 1870 to be exact, a 16-year-old kid traveled from the cold shoulder of Scotland to the baking heart of America to find his love.”

I’m really over parody movies, and this one is no exception. The cheesy dialog and recycled storylines from more popular movies fail to strike a chord with me. Is it just me, or does it seems like parodies are nothing more than the bullies of the film industry? Makes sense, right, seeing as their sole purpose is to poke fun at other movies with no originality or real substance to them. Well, in the case of Tooken, it appears that we have run out of movies to parody and are resorting to people. Well, not people per se, merely characters brought to life by the same actor; I won’t mention which actor. However, that part should not be that difficult for you to guess once we dive a little deeper.

Tooken centers on Brian Millers (your first clue), a retired CIA operative whose life has life has taken a decline. He works as a mall security guard, his wife has divorced him and is shacking up with a new guy, and his daughter is at the full mercy of her hormones. Let’s hit pause for a second; now, from the provided information you should be able to piece the together who the target of this parody is, that is if you were unable to decipher it from the title. Brian finds himself entangled in a plot involving a group of Albanians, all the while attempting to win back his wife and protect his daughter from essentially herself. Truth be told, too much time was spent on the family dynamic rather than the overall plot. The first half of the movie is a long drawn out version of what the original movie summed up in like fifteen minutes. Watch Brian attempt to win back his wife, and the unprovoked beatings of his daughter’s boyfriend are mildly entertaining but become tedious with each repetition.

“I'm not a scientist, although I do play one on TV occasionally. Ok...hell, more than occasionally.”

The “I'm not a _____, but I play one on TV” catchphrase transcended its humble origins to become the go-to, jokey line for anybody who feels empowered to speak outside their area of expertise. Merchants of Doubt, however, isn't concerned with soap opera actors trying to sell Vicks on television. Instead, this flashy, funny, well-researched documentary examines the select group of people who present themselves as scientific authorities to the public. It also argues that they purposefully create confusion with the goal of maintaining a very lucrative status quo.

"When I first took the deal to become an undercover informant in a biker gang, I did it to save my own skin. But over the next three years, putting bad guys away became my personal mission. I saw it as a chance to make amends for my past mistakes, but I paid a heavy price. I'm Charles Falco, and this is my story." 

So, who the heck is Charles Falco? For a while he was a rather successful meth cook who was pulling in 100 g's a month. He appeared to have it all: fast cars, big house, and a trophy wife. The problem is that he got hooked on his own product. That leads to mistakes, and he lost it all when the cops came busting in to topple his drug empire. He faced 20 years or more in prison, and there was only one way out of the mess. The feds had just lost their informant inside the infamous Vagos motorcycle gang. When I say lost, we're talking a hole in the head followed by an unmarked hole in the desert. Falco could work off his time by infiltrating the gang. Of course, he didn't even know how to ride a bike. This should get interesting, and sometimes it does. The problem is that sometimes it doesn't.