 Never forget to tip the driver.
In my newfound quest to rediscover my love of horror, I've found that picturesque New Zealand has much to offer in the way of inventive terror. Sione's Wedding director Chris Graham has decided to toss his creative hat in the proverbial blood-soaked ring with his off-beat 2007 hybrid The Ferryman, a film that is actually much sharper than its shoddy Region 1 artwork initially suggests. The premise isn't anything overly original -- two hip young couples set out for fun and excitement aboard a chartered yacht -- forcing Graham and his able-bodied cast to compensate for the familiarity of the setup. In other words, downplay the ho-hum plot and shift the focus to the characters and the atmosphere. However, roughly 50 minutes into the picture, the film suddenly develops a decidedly warped sense of humor; one truly bizarre masturbatory scenario virtually redefines the definition of voyeurism. And while some may claim that the movie never really figures out what, exactly, it wants to be, the combination of tones and subgenres are what make this maniacal contraption tick. The Ferryman may not be the best horror flick New Zealand has to offer, but it's certainly a breath of fresh air. My lungs thank you for it.
Recipe For Success: One Well-Paced Script + Graham's Morbid Sense Of Humor + It's Got A Brain
A Word Of Advice: Always kill the skinny tarts first.
Less headaches that way.
 Comb-overs are never flattering.
Part mockumentary, part superhero epic, Hitoshi Matsumoto's peculiar 2007 effort Big Man Japan aka Dai-Nipponjin) is, if nothing else, a one-of-a-kind motion picture that plays by its own set of cinematic rules. Not because the film snaps, crackles, and pops with unbridled energy or tackles subject matter we've never encountered before, mind you, but moreover because Matsumoto handles the material as if he were coaxing you into a nice, long nap after a heavy home-cooked meal. The story concerns itself with the exploits of Masaru Daisatou (Matsumoto), a humble, assuming man and his extraordinary ability to grow to an astonishing size whenever enormous monsters threaten Japan. Instead of focusing entirely on his heroic deeds and selfless acts of outstanding courageousness, Matsumoto turns our attention to the more mundane aspects of this paladin's life, covering everything from his jaded thoughts on today's youth to the fragile relationship between his estranged wife and daughter. Those seeking non-stop thrills from the picture's collection of creative creatures will be sorely disappointed, as the film is more of a quirky character piece than a full-on action experience. If you can handle the deliberately slow pacing and some questionable special effects, Big Man Japan should entertain. Theoretically, of course.
Recipe For Success: An Unconventional Approach To Familiar Themes + Hitoshi Matsumoto's Performance + What An Ending!
A Word Of Caution: If your attention span is clinically short, you may have trouble consuming this one.
So stop watching Adult Swim, already.
 Steve Rogers will steal your car.
If ever there was a comic book movie just begging to be remade, Albert Pyun's hypnotically awful 1990 superhero blunder Captain America is it. Powered by a script laden with peculiar dialogue and serious leaps in logic, this devastatingly poor adaptation of Joe Simon and Jack Kirby's iconic series offers little in the way of intentional entertainment, especially once the audience gets a good look at do-gooder Matt Salinger in his awkwardly patriotic costume. The story follows the exploits of gimpy pipsqueak-turned-strapping freedom fighter Steve Rogers as he attempts to thwart the evil misdoings of his genetic equal, the hideously deformed Red Skull (Scott Paulin). After several scenes of misplaced drama and hokey sci-fi mumbo-jumbo, the good captain awakens from a decades-long slumber in a chunk of Alaskan ice, only to find himself thrust into yet another cornball scheme perpetrated by his perpetually scheming archenemy. Pyun's approach to the material is innocent enough, allowing Salinger and crew to play into the whole gee-whiz mentality of the original comics. However, the director's penchant for quick cuts and sloppy action completely derail this ill-conceived train as soon as it leaves the proverbial station. Captain America is, of course, entirely enjoyable, but it's definitely not a good representation of Marvel's beloved franchise.
Recipe For Success: Ronny Cox As Your President + Matt Salinger As Your Hero + That Costume Has Got To Go
Guess What I Learned: Gunshot victims often watch Wheel of Fortune during their stay in the hospital.
I think it has something to do with Vanna's vowels.
 Like sniffing your own farts, except colorful.
Uwe Boll's Postal is, perhaps, the much-loathed director's greatest cinematic achievement thus far. That said, it's still light years away from what anyone would call a "good movie," despite the fact that Boll has finally delivered a picture that's actually more coherent than the video game which inspired it. Of course, the titular software -- a slightly boring tale about a small town guy and his rage issues -- isn't exactly a staggering work of art, nor does it come equipped with a plot that could carry a 100-minute movie. To make the material work as a living, breathing, full-length feature, Boll unleashes his unapologetic id upon the world at-large, poking fun at everything from the September 11th attacks to his legion of online haters who spend way too much time trashing the guy on message boards and poorly-written blogs. On-board to assist Uwe in his jaded quest are Zack Ward, Dave Foley, Vern Troyer, and a handful of barely recognizable faces, all of whom do a fantastic job of making Boll and Bryan C. Knight's violent fifth-grade script snap on-screen. Postal is without a doubt one of the most intentionally offensive films you'll see this year, second only to Lloyd Kaufman's deliciously foul effort Poultrygeist. As long as you know it's awful, you'll love it. Expect cult stardom shortly.
Recipe For Success: One Sick Sense Of Humor + Uwe's Bizarre Cameo + Dave Foley's Ding-A-Ling
Hey Guess What: Monkey rape is funny.
Especially when they're raping the little guy.
 Depth isn't everything.
Huge kudos to underrated director Jeremy Kasten for attempting to legitimize Herschell Gordon Lewis' ultra bizarre cult classic The Wizard of Gore, as I'm sure it was an incredibly difficult project to undertake. Unfortunately, Kasten and screenwriter Zach Chassler don't seem to understand what made the original picture tick. And while the framework to Gordon's outrageous gorefest remains intact -- a newspaper reporter and his sassy girlfriend attempt to unravel the mystery behind a magician's bloody stage show -- all of the demented glee and two-dollar charm has been systematically removed. Wooden puppets Kip Pardue and Bijou Phillips are, of course, horribly miscast, leaving genre vets Brad Dourif and an unrecognizable Jeffrey Combs to pick up the slack. Professional freak Crispin Glover, meanwhile, does his best to spread his own quirky sauce all over Montag the Magnificent, though you can tell his heart just isn't in the game. Despite its odd carnivalesque atmosphere and a handful of interesting yet poorly executed gore sequences, Kasten's version of The Wizard of Gore is yet another remake perpetrated by individuals looking to make a buck off indiscriminate fanboys. If you want this sort of thing done properly, ask Tim Sullivan.
Recipe For Disaster: A Slew Of Arrogant, Annoying Characters + Glover's Half-Hearted Performance + Yawn
But You Know What: Nice try, though.
For real.
 Surprise, surprise.
When a friend called yesterday to ask if I'd heard rumors that Sling Blade star Billy Bob Thornton had been cast as Freddy Kruger in the upcoming remake of Craven's iconic Nightmare on Elm Street, I actually found myself at a complete loss for words. Was it because I thought Thornton was wrong for the role? Not at all. Perhaps I was merely overwhelmed by the thought of yet another pointless remake rolling into theaters specifically designed to appease mindless teenagers tapping endlessly on expensive cellular phones. That would at least make sense, right? As my clouded little mind began tossing around the reasons why I was totally indifferent to this incredibly interesting news, it suddenly became painfully clear: I am no longer a horror fan. While I do still enjoy the occasional blood-soaked horror/comedy or a nifty slice of edgy foreign terror, American horror doesn't have the appeal it once had. I'm not as forgiving as I used to be, prompting yours truly to question why, exactly, I continue to waste my precious time on films I really couldn't care less about. Kind of strange, I think, considering how much I loved the genre. Here's hoping something snappy comes along to relight the fire.
However, I'm not holding my breath.
 Always remember to hide the knives.
The majority of the negative reviews surrounding Simon Rumley's scorching 2006 sucker punch The Living and the Dead seem to stem from those who are looking for a more traditional sort of horror. After all, not too many people will appreciate a bleak, uncompromising portrayal of a mentally ill man-child (Leo Bill) who desperately wants to tend to his dying mother while his father is away on business. Murder and madness, of course, soon follow. The ensuing mayhem is as physically and emotionally draining as modern cinema gets, overwhelming its brave audience with the sort of undiluted sadness that lingers long after the film has ended. Rumley's skillful direction, combined with a trio of brilliant performances, turn what could have been a generic shock-a-minute exploitation flick into something unique, touching, and, at times, wholly disturbing. And though I will readily admit that this is an incredibly tough picture to consume, I honestly can't see how anyone in their right mind could find it boring and dull. Horrifying, perplexing, and entirely unhinged, The Living and the Dead should be immediately investigated by anyone who's looking for something different from a genre that's overflowing with septic infection.
Recipe For Success: Leo Bill's Unstoppable Performance + Rumley's Great Script + I Want A Big, Sprawling Manor, Too
Color Me Boo-Hoo Black: Perhaps it's time to watch something a bit more jovial.
That is, until my meds kick in again.
 Be nice to your little brother.
Swedish directors Måns Mårlind and Björn Stein's snazzy 2005 dramatic sci-fi opus Storm isn't your typical run-of-the-mill Matrix-inspired action flick. Instead of assaulting your haggard senses with cheap "bullet time" knock-offs and pseudo-philosophical babbling, these insanely crafty filmmakers have constructed an extremely clever cinematic puzzle, a thoroughly engaging mind scrambler that takes you on an adventure most potential viewers probably won't expect, especially if they've seen the trailer. The setup is fairly rudimentary: A handsome twenty-something (Oscar Åkermo) is given a strange object to protect by a complete stranger, after which he is pursued by a squadron of creepy bastards who will stop at nothing to obtain this highly coveted item. At this point, the narrative fragments, sending our reluctant hero on a most unusual journey of self-discovery -- think Charles Dickens by way of the Wachowski brothers. Performances are strong across the board, especially those cast in the multiple flashbacks we're given to chew on later in the film. If you can overlook the abrupt, mildly perplexing conclusion and the familiar use of technology as a cultural depressant, you should find Storm to be a startling, sharply composed experience. Beyond impressive.
Recipe For Success: A Surprisingly Amount Of Emotion + A Handful Of Creepiness + Stand Up For Your Sister, Ya Twit
Guess What: I cried. Twice. No, make that three times.
And I didn't even need a pair of glasses to remember it.
 Ninja outfits are clingy.
Damn you, Shock-O-Rama! Despite the fact that the scene depicted on the packaging for David Haycox and Mardy South's cheesy martial arts revenge saga Psycho Kickboxer never actually appears in the film, I just can't stay mad at you. After all, I probably never would have stumbled across this trashy, gore-soaked train wreck of a motion picture were it not for the dedicated guys and gals who quietly slave away in your acquisitions department. Five time World Kickboxing Champion Curtis Bush stars as Alex Hunter, a desperate wannabe superhero seeking vengeance for the cold-blooded murder of his father and his fiance. All of the standard action cliches apply: random fights, crippled mentors, shady double-crosses, pointless nudity, and impossibly wooden acting are all accounted for. The film's numerous fight scenes are surprisingly well-executed, though the accompanying sound effects strangely resemble something you might find in a cheap, off-brand 8-bit Nintendo game. In other words, this is typical genre diarrhea, the sort of rank material that never would have seen the light of day before the advent of the DVD. That said, Psycho Kickboxer is as ridiculously entertaining as horrid no-budget cinema gets. By far the most fun I've had all week.
Recipe For Success: Quality Special Effects + Several Engaging Fight Sequences + The Magical Ability To Locate Crime
The Eternal Question: Can an action movie have too many bushy mustaches and oily mullets?
Of course not.
 Delivery drivers hate little girls.
Budding writer/director Hong-jin Na certainly knows how to make an impression. Not only has his breathless 2008 feature-length debut The Chaser (aka Chugyeogja) been tapped for an all-star American remake, but it has also broken the South Korean box office record set by Joon-ho Bong's classic suspense yarn Memories of Murder. The film's basic storyline -- a tough-as-nails pimp locks horns with a cunning serial killer in order to find his missing girls -- allows for a number of intense confrontations, culminating in a third reel showdown inside the killer's cluttered home that ranks with some of the best ever captured on film. However, don't let these descriptions fool you -- The Chaser is much more than your typical action/thriller. There's a surprisingly amount of effective melodrama to be found throughout the course of the picture, though not enough to alter the story's overall tone or completely derail the film's well-crafted set pieces. If anything, these fleeting moments of humanity serve to increase your emotional investment, especially once things start to take a turn for the worse towards the end of the movie. As long as you can stomach some diabolical violence and a suitably downbeat finale, The Chaser should definitely serve you well.
Recipe For Success: Yun-seok Kim & Jung-woo Ha + Several Intense Foot Chases + If The Ending Doesn't Choke You Up, You're Probably Dead
Pimpin' Ain't Easy: It's a good idea to keep a very close eye on your girls in this day and age.
Implanted GPS chips are the way to go.
 Always take a moment to reflect.
Before blindly rushing off to see director Alexandre Aja's latest cinematic remake Mirrors, perhaps an impromptu visit to the source material is in order. Sung-ho Kim's effective 2003 chiller Into the Mirror is a solid film in its own right, though I suspect that the film's even pacing and the severe lack of graphic violence will ultimately bore most modern-day American moviegoers to death. The picture concerns itself with a disgraced ex-cop turned security guard who is faced with not only the demons from his troubled past but a series of gruesome murders inside the shopping center he's been hired to protect. Kim's use of mirrors as both a metaphor and an instrument of fear is impressive; there always seems to be some sort of reflective surface in the shot, be it a puddle of water or a display case stuffed with interesting technological knick-knacks. Sadly, those searching for something overdriven and visceral will certainly be disappointed, as Into the Mirror is more in tune with old-school suspense flicks than what passes for horror these days. That said, the film is, at times, undeniably eerie and genuinely scary, providing just enough gore and bloodshed to keep you squirming. Definitely worth investigating.
Recipe For Success: Great Atmosphere + Rock Solid Performances + An Interesting Last Minute Twist
I'm Not Looking: I'm sure both films will do for mirrors what Psycho did for showers.
I guess I won't be watching myself bathe for a while.
 Color me very skeptical.
Rockstar's classic third-person shooter Max Payne is one of my all-time favorite video games, mostly because it allows me to indulge unapologetically in what I like to call "Woo Fantasy." Instead of sitting around passively while people are stylishly blown to juicy bits by a guy wielding dual weapons, I'm actively participating in this wanton bloodshed, mashing buttons and screaming obscenities when things aren't going my way. Naturally, the idea of a live action Max Payne movie excites me, though I'm smart enough to realize that it may, in fact, turn out to be a major league disappointment. Of course, it doesn't help matters any that the film is directed by John Moore, the untalented hack responsible for Behind Enemy Lines, the Flight of the Phoenix remake, and the unfortunate 2006 reimagining of the The Omen. What's more, not many people are too excited about the picture's Comic Con panel, a presentation which included one of the most ridiculous taglines I've heard in quite some time. Am I just another blogger pissing in the dark? Probably not, but I'll reserve judgment until the finished product has been consumed.
Check out the trailer by clicking here.
 Officer, your murder suspect is broken.
Aikido master and beloved Internet pinata Steven Seagal's second 2008 outing Kill Switch (aka A Higher Form Of Learning) is actually his very first cinematic adventure for maverick distributor First Look Pictures. Unfortunately, all of the usual problems from his years with Sony Pictures remain intact. The film finds our aging hero portraying emotionally scarred crime fighter Jacob King, a seasoned detective who's hot on the trail of not one, but two savage serial killers. Though the story itself continues to branch away from those cheap military actioners he's become extremely infamous for, it's still a drastic step backwards from his previous two efforts, 2007's Urban Justice and 2008's Pistol Whipped. If you can imagine an unholy marriage between an early James Patterson novel and a cheap blaxploitation flick starring a blues-addicted white man with a faux Creole accent, you'd have something remarkably similar to director Jeff King's goofy little feature. In fact, were it not for two or three blood-soaked fight sequences -- all of which employ the use of a stunt double and an over-achieving editor -- Kill Switch would have been a total bore. If you fancy a go, leave logic and good taste at the door.
Recipe For Mediocrity: One Ridiculous Accent + An Uncomfortably Sexist Attitude + Seagal's Questionable Use Of A Hammer
One More Thing: Remember that scene at the beginning of American History X? The one with the guy biting the curb?
Steven Seagal and Jeff King do, too.
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