Modern Art Is Soooooo Subjective

If movies have taught me anything, it’s that the future is a world I never want to live in. No amount of Wild Stallions or Jetsons-like housekeeping could make me wish myself into a land rife with infertility, leather, nuclear fallout, totalitarianism, android bounty hunters, and more than one scenario wherein Kevin Costner is the messiah. Sure, it can be argued that the better time leaping movies are actually commenting on today’s society, but that still doesn’t mean I’m jumping on a hoverboard any time soon.

Richard Stanley’s 1990 dystopian techno thriller Hardware does little to change my views on the future....which I’m now apparently living in. This recently reissued film borrows a little inspiration from The Terminator, Soylent Green, Z.P.G., and a few other post apocalyptic films of the past, capturing a striking mix of 70s hard edged 70s cinema and 80s action to be its own interesting, if highly imperfect slice of metallic sci-fi.

Quick Plot: It’s the 21st century from a 20th century point of view, meaning the world is a sizzling desert filled with robot rubble, red skies, and intrepid little people. Iggy Pop’s DJ voice informs us that the government is set to pass a proposal to control the population by sterilizing anybody found reproducing, as resources are scarce and radiation is high. It’s an ugly world bathed entirely in an orange fuzz that burns straight through the camera lens.

A lonely and haunting opening follows a ragged gas-masked scavenger searching a wasteland for any goods to sell. He comes upon a few pieces of MARK 13, a failed cyborg experiment worth its weight in trading. Our nameless traveller brings his haul to a tech savvy junk trader named Alvy (Willow’s Mark Northover) and sells what looks like the head of C3P0's rebellious older brother to Mo, a roving soldier played by Dylan McDermott. Mo in turn presents it to his artist girlfriend Jill (Stacy Travis) for a Christmas/sorry-I’m-never-here gift. She’s elated because it’s just what she needs to complete her latest piece (after a hip dose of spray paint that would have gone perfectly with a kicking pair of American flag Converse, of course).

As you might imagine, MARK-13 ain’t WALL-E. Once Mo slips out of the room and Jill falls asleep (irresponsibly with a joint in hand, mind you) the wiry widget juices himself up with the apartment power grid and assembles himself into a homicidal little machine using other electronics in reach. As if that wasn’t enough to make for the worst yuletide ever, Jill’s foul-mouthed voyeur of a neighbor (who resembles what would happen if Jon Lovitz ate John Favreau and washed him down with popcorn butter) forces his way into her hallway with the automatic door sealing tightly behind him.

Hardware is an odd film, and not just because it is blatantly stylized with quick edits, robot vision, and a colored lens. Filmmaker Richard Stanley seemed to put a lot of thought and energy in establishing this post nuclear holocaust society, sprinkling in television commercials and window views that drop eerie hints about just devastated the world has become. Some of Mo’s conversations with Alvy and his friend Shades about how the radiation has affected them are truly haunting in a perfectly post apocalyptic way, and the background politics of sterilization, government assisted living, and drug use could easily have been the central device of their own feature length films. Great care was clearly taken with painting the sky such a rusted hue and yet, Hardware chooses a very different path for its 93 minute runtime.

What I didn’t like about Stanley’s film was, in a word, its plot. We’re presented with this dying society rife with political implications, but Hardware chooses instead to focus on the loud and clunky events of this one apartment. The bulk of the film features Jill’s struggle to evade MARK 13, who I like to think of as what would happen if Robocop’s son was a 15 year old punk hanging out with the wrong crowd. It’s action packed and has a few big payoff moments, but there’s something so limited about Hardware’s second half that can’t help but let down the sprawlingly dystopian setup. 

High Points

William Hootkins supporting role as a foul peeping tom adds a sick but highly engaging touch of oddness to the film


From the casual talk about cancer to the snippets of radio and television ads for radiation-free produce, the environmental and societal breakdown of Hardware is sufficiently disturbing

The wordless opening scene that follows a nomadic junk trader through a dusty red desert is breathtaking

Low Points

For a film with such a carefully envisioned dystopian scope, the limits of one evil robot encounter can’t help but feel like a letdown

It’s a style choice and for the most part, a very strong one but still: so much flashing lights can give even a healthy young woman one mean headache 

Things We Can Expect Sometime In the 21st Century

A completely sealed apartment with occasional bursts of open door radiation will do incredible things for your naturally curly hair

GWAR’s popularity will soar

Housing for those on welfare will be spacious, offer great views, and have a steady supply of running water

Newscasters will style themselves like 1970s era of anchormen

Thankfully, radiation-free reindeer steak will be available for the holiday season and advertised by the same commercial directors that filmed the final montage movie moments of Pee Wee’s Big Adventure

Robots will be homicidal and prudish

Rent/Bury/Buy

After nearly 19 years, Hardware has finally received a deluxe DVD release in a 2 disc set loaded with extras. I, however, purchased my copy several months ago from Cinema De Bizarre , a fantastic service with great deals on hard-to-find flicks. On that hand, I can’t really tell you if the DVD is worth an investment but if it sounds interesting to you and you find it well priced, it’s a leap worth taking. I can imagine the extras being somehow more fascinating than the finished product simply because Stanley seems to be a unique artist with a whole lot of dramatic ideas that probably didn’t make the 90 minute cut. I didn’t love Hardware, but it’s a neat little picture stuffed with innovative ideas and a distinct visual style.

Hasta La Vista, Colon

As I’ve said before, Terminator Salvation seemed too good to be true. Angry Christian Bale kicking ass in the post-apocalypse? With homicidal, power-mad robots? That’s more than enough to earn my $12. But if I’ve learned anything from apartment hunting on Craig’s List, anything too good to be true usually is (too good, not true), and the fourth outing of John Connor & posse isn’t quite what it could be.

At the same time, based on some of the feedback I’d heard before I eventually made my way to a Sunday matinee, I was expecting Batman & Robin levels of badness. There’s a chance my expectations had been lowered so far down that McG would have had to put nipples on John Connor’s SWAT gear for me to really hate the movie (although the temptation of seeing Bale’s nipples wouldn’t necessarily deter me from anything), but I genuinely didn’t mind Terminator’s fourth installment. Is it flawed? Affirmative. It doesn’t and maybe can’t, in 95 minutes, capture the grand mythology that’s become so much more intriguing in the prematurely canceled Sarah Connor Chronicles, but...well, there’s killer robots. And shiny stuff. 

So. Because I seem to be unable to make what sounds like a coherent case for why I kinda sorta didn’t hate, maybe even enjoyed T4, I’d like to address some of the charges brought against it. Court is in session. Spoilers will follow:

Charge 1: A fantastic supporting cast is wasted

Verdict: Reduced Charge

With names like Michael Ironside, Jane Alexander, Helena Bonham Carter and Bryce Dallas Howard filling in key roles, Terminator Salvation certainly had a better cast than it did script. While most didn’t get that big scene you would expect, I personally found that their very presence added a certain weight that’s not always found in blockbuster fare. Compare Alexander’s grandmotherly hostage to Common’s terribly acted mourning soldier and you see how vital a few good talents are (and how detrimental a lack can be). Ironside is always welcome--particularly when playing a surly badass. I find Bryce Dallas Howard to be an interesting actress, so it was a tad disappointing to see her relegated to the pregnant wifey role. That being said, this wasn’t Kate Brewster-Connor’s story. Hell, it was barely John Connor’s story. While I wouldn’t be surprised if the DVD release is packed with deleted “character development” scenes, the theatrical release couldn’t really sustain longer dialogue. It wasn’t an epic, and it didn’t waste its energy trying to be one.

Charge 2: Sam Worthington ain’t Arnold

Verdict: Guilty...

..but I can be lenient. Worthington is solid enough, and sympathetic in a gravely heroic way. I don’t know that a franchise could ever be built around him, but learning that he’ll be wearing Harry Hamlin’s loincloth in the upcoming Clash of the Titans remake eases the torturous pain I’ve been in since I heard that classic film was being unnecessarily reshot. As Marcus, Worthington was stiff enough to be a robot while portraying confused torment with just the right touch of a human heart. There’s something there, even if it occasionally lapses into an Australian accent. 

Charge 3: A PG13 Rating is blasphemous

Verdict: Not Guilty

Normally, a PG13 slapped on what had previously been an R franchise hurts like a mosquito bite from The Mist (yippee kay eh, mommy dearest). Past Terminator films made great use of the R with intense violence and some nice shots of an infamous politician’s firm buns, but Salvation doesn’t get soft with its more teenager-friendly restrictions. While there were no real holy shit! effects moments so wonderfully present in T2, the action was high and for the most part, suspenseful. And hey: the three-year-old kid some irresponsible moviegoer next to me brought into the theatre still cried a lot, so that must mean something...maybe I’m starting to reach.

Charge 4: No good villain

Verdict: Not Guilty

This Terminator had no colon (a grammatical one, not the organ). This was a different movie from the Arnold-enhanced previous installments, finally set during the war with machines. Machines, not A machine. What has always made SKYnet so frightening was not the fact that its poster boy was a future Kindergarten Cop, but that it had no face, no soul, and no individuality. I’d hate to get all JC inspirational here, but it’s vital to point out the difference between humans and the machines that are trying to destroy them. The very fact that there is no one entity to call the enemy, at this point in the franchise, is completely appropriate. 

Charge 5: Moon Bloodgood is terrible

Verdict: Guilty

Linda Hamilton fans, join hands and nod. I miss her too. 

Charge 6: The little girl character is unnecessary

Verdict: Reduced Charge

Yeah, the adorable lil mute child Kyle Reese watches over has no purpose other than to look sad and touch stuff, but something I found compelling (if not fully developed) about The Sarah Connor Chronicles was learning about children that grew up post-Judgement Day. It gave a human face to the apocalypse, and young Jadagrace (who continues what  must have been an impossible-to-not-laugh-at role call in the names department on the set of Terminator Salvation) serves this purpose fair enough. Since she doesn’t talk, we don’t have to deal with the annoyingness so often present in kid actors and here and there, she’s quite useful. Most importantly, her presence helps to heroize Kyle Reese, not as a grand action star, but as a scared but brave human trying to protect what's still left in an empty world..

Charge 7: Christian Bale is one note

Verdict: Guilty

After two rounds of Batman + one John Connor, I’m starting to wish poor hearing on every Bale co-star, if only so that he no longer mouths his entire performance as a whisper and just starts speaking normally. I don’t know that it’s Bale or the script at fault here, but I will side with many a critic and concede that Wales’ best Method actor didn’t quite portray a messiah worth worshipping. It’s especially disappointing because I really hoped that after the blandness of Nick Stahl and the slowly improving pretty boyness of Thomas Dekker, Bale would finally incarnate the spunky and resourceful JC first hinted at by juvenile delinquent Edward Furlong. Sadly, I couldn’t muster enough belief in Bale’s performance. He just seemed really angry and kind of...well...dull. 

Charge: Unbelievable ending

Verdict: Really?

To nitpick the logic of a Terminator film is about as productive as explaining global warming to George Bush. The very foundation on which lies the Resistance--and, essentially, the future of mankind, is null: John exists because he sent Kyle Reese back in time to impregnate Sarah Connor. If time is linear--as is hinted at by the series--how can John ever exist in the first place? More importantly, if we’re applying common human logic, why can’t Skynet just send a terminator back to kill Sarah Connor’s mother? Or grandmother? Or grandfather? Surely there’s some weak link down the line. Considering the smartest, most powerful and advanced computers in the universe aren’t able to just blow one person up, I can forgive an outdoor open heart surgery with poor medical supplies. 

So ultimately, I’m not willing to praise McG’s messy little movie, but I will defend it as decent summer entertainment. Hurl your comments, hostages, and Bale-inspired fury my way below. Or you can, dare I say it, lend me some support? After all, doesn’t everybody deserve a second chance (or, in the case of the morally fuzzy Marcus, a fourth or fifth?)

Ya Da Da Da Dah, 2018

Due to a continuously busy schedule and some limited Internet access, I haven't had the chance to compile my complete thoughts on the enjoyable mediocrity that is Terminator Salvation. Still, since it's the first film I've seen in the theatres in three months, it seemed necessary to post a few lessons Christian "The American Whisperer" Bale and friends taught me as I munched on non-movie theatre popcorn and a Duane Reade Peppermint Patty. Later this week, I'm hoping to go a little deeper with my T4 analysi/defense over at Pop Syndicate. Stay tuned, but first, take some notes. You never know when the American military will accidentally unleash self aware Austrian killer robots to herd us lowly bipeds into giant metal buckets.


So be prepared, in part because a few SPOILERS may follow, but also because in nine years, the future will be a world where the following is true:


Dr. Hibbert prevails! Major surgeries WILL be performed in the outdoors

Early versions of terminators will be unable to count to 3, at least when it comes to chances


Early versions of terminators will be prone to lapsing into Australian accents

Romantically unattached female members of the Resistance will not be the greatest judges of character. Or heartbeats.


SKYnet may be an evil collection of man-hating machines, but they do believe in free will


Hair ties will be hard to come by, but there will be a surplus of shampoo and hydrating conditioner

Two day old coyote is better than three day old coyote. Duh.


Despite a lack of food and sunshine, the survivors of the future will be rather hot


SKYnet's favorite film characters are Bond villains that rarely kill key prisoners with the power to thwart their plans


Post apocalyptic fashion will involve Samurai eye makeup


If you've never driven a car before, the best time to learn will be in a high-speed chase with advanced killer robots in hot pursuit. Don't worry: you'll do just fine.


Michael Ironside will continue to make anything cooler

The Evil of Expectations

I don’t normally get excited by big studio releases, but my blood is pumping fast over the opening of Terminator: Salvation, and not because it stars my favorite short-tempered Newsie. Based on the previews and early reviews, this is the Terminator film I’ve been craving since the world got its first peek of the tech savvy apocalypse in 1981. Though rife with garbled Schwarzeneggerian-isms, the recent third installment was an aching disappointment for me because I had to wait 2+ hours to reach that plot. And then the movie ended. 

Quite simply, it wasn’t the story I wanted to see. I know, who am I, some lowly copy editor and amateur bloggist, to give screenwriting advice to a multimillion dollar franchise. I am one fan. But all this giddiness at Memorial Day’s big release did get me thinking quite selfishly, of other films that had potential, but failed my personal expectations, not by quality but in the basic plot and direction.

1)In the Mouth of Madness

John Carpenter changed the scope of horror filmdom with Halloween and made Rogaine evil in Body Bags . The guy knows how to make a good movie, but more importantly, the dude can create unique cinema with philosophically evocative messages disguised as blue collar shoot ‘em ups or old fashioned bloodbaths. This 1995 horror stars Sam Neill as an insurance investigator who gets wrapped up in a mass market paperback inspired apocalypse (the worst kind there is, of course). Hidden under gooey monsters and ax-wielding extras, Carpenter makes a few passing statements about modern hero worship using a Stephen King stand-in that has developed such a strong literary following, he’s attained deity status.

In an age where a former coke addicted cheerleader spent 8 years as the symbol of family values, a presidential candidate gets his face branded on condoms, and the general public is more invested in the results of American Idol than the Iraq War, the possiblility that Dan Brown or J.J. Abrams could crown (or become) the next messiah is relevant and realistic. For a while, it seems as though In the Mouth of Madness will explore what happens when enough people believe someone to be a god. The possibilities of such a story direction are promising, but sadly, Carpenter doesn’t quite find it material enough for plotting. Instead, our final 20 minutes tiptoe away from the thought-provoking religious questions to plunge headfirst into monster mash territory, finally drifting away into rehashed The Twilight Zone territory. 

2)Elves

It’s not that a film about Nazi-bred elves, set in a shopping mall, and featuring Grizzly Adams as a heroic Santa Clause is a bad thing. I don’t know about you, but I find such a plot possible of yielding the greatest film of all time. If, of course, it actually had elves. But there’s just one, making this not only a disappointingly bad film but, far more offensively, a disappointingly bad, deceptively titled film. For shame.

3)Friday the 13th.12

There are quite a few F13 films I could have included in this category--the unFeldmaned Part V and my personal favorite, Jason Takes a 20 Minute Layover in Vancouverish Manhattan come to mind--but the 2009 remake/reboot/reshit is, is my opinion, utterly deplorable for failing blandly in two ways: it was neither affectionately nostalgic nor actually scary. In fact, it was everything I had feared it would be, minus the claw-my-own-eyes-out PG13 rating. I didn’t expect a remake of a never-that-good series to be cinematic gold, but a little energy, a little more intelligence, a smidgen of creativity, and, I don’t know, a utilized wood chipper could have at least merited the title of ‘reboot’ over ‘eleventh sequel.’

4) The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning

Despite my grudging approval of the TCM remake, I had little expectations for this quick followup...that is, until I found out it would be a prequel centering on the origin of Leatherface. I like my cannibalistic cross dressers as much as the next gal, so imagine my excitement at seeing what I hoped would be a Glen Or Glenda-ish romp with a few Sears sponsored dismemberments tossed in. Sadly, Leartherface’s wonder years are quickly flashed through to get to the more telegenic and less interesting Jordana Brewster and her typical Abercrombie (but soooo 70s) friends. While I love me some scarily screaming R. Lee Ermey, this “beginning” ends up doing what every single entry in this five film franchise has done before.

5) Rob Zombie’s Halloween

Love it or hate it, you have to admit Zombie may have been onto something when he decided to explore the childhood sociopathy of Michael Meyers. With genre nobleman Malcolm McDowell cast as Dr. Loomis and young Tyler Mane providing some genuine misfit youthfulness, Zombie had the makings of something different. It’s just too bad he tried to cram it into 45 minutes, saving the second 45 for an unlikable Laurie Strode’s whining. Ultimately, Zombie’s film is torn between the chance it wants to take and yet another glossily gory reshoot studios love to push. 

7) Moscow Zero

Key words on Netflix synopsis: Val Kilmer as an evil gatekeeper to hell, which is apparently located under the Moscow subway (I’ve been there and it’s entirely believable)

Expectations=High 

Actually watching Moscow Zero: 90 minutes of black and blue scenery that’s barely visible, dialogue that’s nonsensical, and an early night’s sleep for me

8)Flowers in the Attic

As a well-read adult, I can now admit that V.C. Andrews adolescent exploitation is not quite Pulitzer worthy, but as a 14 year old whose previous girl-powered literature featured spunky babysitters, the Dollanger saga was engrossing, disturbing, and absolutely incredible. The film adaptation? None of those things. Victoria Tenant and Louise Fletcher are perfectly cast as old money matriarchs all too eager to lock four fair-haired children in a room for four years. Screenwriter and director Jeffrey Bloom, however, never seemed to grasp what made the novel resonate with millions of readers. It wasn’t just the setup; it was Cathy’s narration as a feistily flawed young woman stuck experiencing puberty while playing an elaborate game of house with her siblings. Andrews captures what it means to grow up, while using gothic drama as an exciting backdrop. Bloom makes a badly paced TV movie that skims on story, character, and ultimately feels like a melodrama about a retired Nurse Ratched being crabby to her too-cute grandkids. 

9) Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2

Juggernaut: An overwhelming, advancing force that crushes or seems to crush everything in its path

Flop: a complete failure

A quick revisit to Burkitsville was inevitable following the yet-to-be-matched blasting success of 1999’s found footage horror. Filmmakers Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez could have taken the easy route with a linear follow-up or Ginger Snaps Back style prequel, so it’s admirable that they tried something different. If only this meta sequel were any good. Any. (By any, I mean as little as .000001%). I include this film here not because of its fairly creative plot--obnoxious fans of the actual film camp out on location and subsequently meet their inner crazy and/or pissed off spirit of the unseen title femme--but because its script failure was so grandiose, it nearly guaranteed the death of any sequels that dared to try something new. Had Book of Shadows been executed with more skill, I sometimes imagine a better world, one with less I Still Know What You Did Back In the Day When People Careds and more Wes Craven’s New NIghtmares. Only with better films. 

10) Westworld

Dear Michael Bay,

You don’t know me and I don’t particularly like you. I’m sure you’re a nice enough man who pets the occasional puppy, but in all honesty, you’ve made some obscene errors when it comes to remaking films. Before you defend yourself with the adequate reincarnation of Leatherface, let me silence you with two words that, once uttered, should never be spoken of again: The. Hitcher. 

Now. This world believes in second chances (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Mickey Rourke) and so I’m inviting you to take one by keeping your finely lotioned hands off of actual good classics like Rosemary’s Baby and focusing on some lesser fare of the past. See, there’s this film about robots--whoa, settle down Mikey. Don’t point that CGI-shooting laser gun at me. It’s rude. And shiny. As I was saying, these robots, they look like you or me, but cooler. Much, much cooler. Ukranian cowboy cooler. 

So the film is Westworld and it was directed, well, kind of poorly, by the very smart Michael Crichton. The idea is brilliant: in the future, amusement parks take fantasy to a new level by creating historical settings with human-looking androids catering to your every whim. You know, DIsneyland with a Mickey Mouse that actually talks rather than flailing his arms around like an overgrown stuffed animal. Oh. And you can have sex with them. Maybe not Mickey, although perhaps you can arrange some sort of porn tie-in. That’s your business and probably a very lucrative one at that.

Anyway, the movie has great elements but needs a redo. Instead of one lonely (albeit awesome) gunslinger chase, give us an all-out war between pampered park guests and terminator-infused cowboys, gladiators, and medieval knights. Cloning Yul Brynner would be ideal and it’s not like budgeting is an issue. Since the androids are supposed to look like humans, it’s not like you have to throw money away on special effects and believe it or not, it is possible to NOT blow up stuff in this one, as Romans and Greeks were not especially known for explosions. Should you want to pop in a few gunpowdery puffs in Westworld, I certainly can't stop you. But my robot can if you remake the wrong film. Stick to what's flawed. 

Thoughts, my friends? Movies that just didn’t deliver what you wanted/expected/demanded from that special place you call Imagination? And how likely is it that I’ll be reposting a followup expressing disappointment in the salvation of androids?