You say dystopia, I say paradise

The words “starring Costas Mandylor” are really never good news. But when, in the very first scene of a movie starring Costas Mandylor, Ice-T plays a beat cop who fondles a passed out, plague infected woman not wearing a bra, the never good news just got a whole lot better.

Quick Plot: In a wonderful futuristic 2010 (the kind of world where cars blow up when they touch other things and gang leaders named Lucifer sport feathery shoulder pads and Ray Bans), a plague is raging throughout the nation and Caucasian gangs are seizing the streets. 

Meanwhile, a family who clearly put a lot of thought into how to deliver every one...of their lines decides to make a move from California to Phoenix in order to save the world. Pops is a scientist of some sort, but before you can say ‘are we there yet,‘ Lucifer crashes the road trip in order to kidnap the man who can maybe cure the whatever disease is kind of devastating the world. Sure.

Moving on, a pair of kickboxing brothers head the same direction, stopping to fight, in glorious occasional slo-mo, a middle aged mob that includes a dude that absolutely must be Gallagher’s older, tubbier beret wearing brother. This five minute battle proceeds with true wonderment, capped by a toast-worthy “Noooooooooo!” that sealed the deal marking Gangland as one of the great films of our time.

Surviving brother Derek (played by a Step By Step alumn, hollah that) is brought to a gang-run jail where he meets the mumbling beefcake some folks like to call Costas Mandylor, but the movie names Jared. Jared is great because he is played by Costas Mandylor, a man whose arms don’t seem to ever bend all the way due to overwhelming muscle mass in his upper body. That’s okay, because despite his limited thespian skills, Costas Mandylor does give us not one, but TWO of his own spins on the “Noooooooo!” scream before the film hits the 36 minute mark.

Have you married this movie yet? Because I have. I did it when we met Lucifer’s main henchman, a pontytailed dude in leather pants and an absent shirt. He’s basically Street Fighter’s Vega without the mask. He’s basically the most awesome thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

No I’m wrong! He can’t be the best thing, because Lucifer is working on some sort of Rocky Horror Rocky Frankenstein creation that is essentially a shirtless, even TIGHTER leather pants wearing muscleman sporting the same clear contacts as Class of 1999’s Stacey Keach. This guy defies words.

At some point, the fellas pick up a tough blond who has vowed vengeance on Lucifer for killing her sister. She may lack brute strength, but she totally makes up for it in speed and agi-agil...agility. Also, acting ability. That’s mean, maybe just vocal warmups.

Oh, and for some reason, all the beefy bad guys sound like werewolves. It's like the best parts of Turkey Shoot, with the added bonus of Lorenzo Llamas' ex-wife.

There’s a sort of Escape From New York/Zombie Death House narrative going on but really, a complicated plot is the last reason you’ll be watching Gangland. This is modern trash at its finest and I adored every moment of it.

High Points/Low Points

Like most movies of Gangland’s caliber, it’s almost impossible to actually cite what’s right or wrong with Gangland. The easy answer would be everything--or at least, the acting, script, fact that almost every scene involves at least one character stumbling over his or her lines, glorious California sunniness blazing throughout every frame despite the fact that the world is mired in martial law--you get the point. But these are the same things that make this movie such a blast to watch. So low points? Um. Look over there!

Stray Observation

Perhaps this isn’t the best place to bring this up, but why does Ice-T spell his name as such? The drink is tea that is iced, hence, Iced Tea. Now I understand a badass rapper (who would later make a living out of playing police officers, irony be damned) not wanting to take the same name that graces the back of every Applebees menu, but it just bothers me

Lessons Learned

When engaged in hand-to-hand combat with vicious thugs, it’s your duty as a representative of the law enforcement to not even think of using your department issued night stick or gun

In a dystopian near-past, local newscasters will only own one shirt

You will always be a p-pea--peasant if you don’t take what you want

One would assume skin-tight leather pants are a poor choice when planning on engaging in street battles with talented martial artists. One would be so very, very very, very wrong

When firing a gun at the only people left in the world who may be able to kill you, it is vital to aim at their feet

Everything and anything is highly flammable. I mean EVERYTHING

Optional Drinking Game

Take a shot at every “Nooooooooo” moment

Drink whenever a character uses the word ‘peasant’

Drink every time an actor trips over a line

Drink every time an actor trips over the word 'peasant'


Sip throughout the full duration of any dream sequence

Eat a pretzel whenever a bad guy growls (I don’t want you to get sick)

Drink any time someone hints at the possibility of a trip to Phoenix

Take a shot every time you spot a vicious post-apocalyptic thug with a slight weight problem

Winning Line(s)

Am I really expected to choose between just this sample of the following:

“Now you’re going to know what it feels like to DIE!”

“Bless the gun that kills you.”

“It must’ve taken a lot of balls to kill a little girl/It will take a lot less balls to kill you!”

“Nooooooooooooooo!”

Rent/Bury/Buy

Gangland is an awful film, one that requires immediate viewing by the entire universe if we ever hope to achieve world peace. Those who have seen 1986’s classic The Stabilizer might have a tickling inkling of what I mean. From Coolio and Ice-T’s opening cameos to Costas “I Can’t Put My Arms Down” Mandylor’s snarls, this is simply a gem of awfulness that will make your life better. Thank you, director Art Comacho. You have made Earth a place worth loving.

Horrible Non-Horror! Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun Li

As a girl who became a woman during the golden era of Sega Genesis, Capcom's Street Fighter game series is something of a landmark in my life. Sure, Ms. Pacman stepped outside the PacKitchen to fight some ghosties beside her hubby, but as a teenager, it was easier to identitfy with and aspire to the grace, strength, and beauty of one Chun Li.

Hence, one could color me quite excited to see a feature film based on my favorite video game character of all time (screw you Princess Daisy). If it had even one tenth the glee of 1994's Street Fighter (perhaps a candidate for a future Why I Love...  post) I'd be happier than a 13 year old boy with an unlimited supply of quarters at an arcade.

But expectation is something of my mortal enemy, and Andrzej Bartkowiak (the much heralded director of another video game turned head scratcher, Doom)‘s Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun Li is something of...well...the latest entry in Horrible Non-Horror! 

Quick Plot: Young piano prodigy Chun Li lives a charmed life in Hong Kong, practicing Beethoven and tai chi with her loving, well-connected businessman father. Everything changes for the melodramatic when M. Bison--Neal McDonough with a David Boreanz-like occasional Irish brogue--abducts Daddy Dearest to do his bidding. Chun Li, meanwhile, grows into the slightly Asian Kristen Kreuk, a Julliard trained pianist who for no real reason, instantly becomes a superheroine crime fighter in the streets of Bangkok.

I suppose the plotting is a little more sensical, especially as every main story point is narrated ever so specifically and art-ic-ul-ate-ly by the slow-reading Kreuk. In Thailand, Chun Li finds Gen, former partner to Bison and current street fighting sensai. As she trains, our tale gets diverted to most hilariously unbelievable detectives in the history of cinema: Chris "I Hate Fat Chicks" Klein and Moon "My Name Is Really Stupid" Bloodgood.

And here, dear readers, is where Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun Li becomes a Doll's House classic. Movie fans are hard on Keanu Reeves, which makes the fact that Klein seemed to model his Interpol agent on Ted “Theodore” Logan with a hangover rather fantastic. I dare even the most stoic Spartan warrior to get through this film without bursting into giggles just about every time Klein (call me Nash! Interpol!) opens his mouth, 80% of the time to say "I love this job." He's matched by Bloodgood (seriously)'s Maya, a skanky gangland security official with stripper hair and incredibly tight wardrobe that seems inconvenient when chasing ruthless criminals.

To make life even more interesting/ridiculous, M. Bison is given his own backstory: according to Gen, the Artist Formerly Played By a Dying Campy Raul Julia was an Irish orphan who grew up on the streets of Bangkock as a cruel thief, eventually taking a wife and going all Inside on her pregnant womb so as to transfer his conscience into his baby daughter. Said daughter grows up to be Russian and his one point of weakness. That is that.

Because the gods of bad cinema love me, we also get a few more exciting supporting players. Michael Clarke Duncan slums big time as Balrog, sad in that he really delivers no more punch than Grand L. Bush of the first Street Fighter film. In perhaps an homage to Kylie Minogue's awkward casting as Cammy, the Black Eyed Peas’ Taboo (in all honesty, I didn't know who this was until IMDB gave me the hint) plays the masked and clawed Vega. 

Kreuk is surprisingly passable as Chun Li, believable in her action scenes and offensively Americanized in her not-that-Asianness (then again, even the 14-year-old me knew there was something odd about the Genesis version having strawberry blond hair). Overall, however, Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun Li is  frustratingly snobbish, especially once you hear the stunning levels of importance bestowed upon it in a cast and crew commentary. You get the sense that Bartkowiak decided to avoid any semblance that would remind modern viewers of the goofy charm of Steven de Souza’s 1994 version and as a result, ended up with a silly, slightly pretentious action film that simply isn’t good enough to wow anyone.

High Points

I won't fault some of the fight sequences, which are rather elegantly choreographed (sometimes)

Low Points

Well. You know. The movie.

Draw

Chris Klein is, and I say this with no hesitation whatsoever, a horrid horrid actor. And yet as Nash (! Interpol!), he’s rather fascinating to watch and hear. Just how bad CAN he get? It’s a question that’s enough to keep you watching the movie so I guess, fool’s gold star to him?

Lessons Learned

If your forehead is larger than Tyra Banks' after being stung by a bee, perhaps you should not sport such flat and greasy hair. It does your features no favors, honey

Perhaps nameless actor could learn something here: Living on the streets of Bangkok with no resources will ensure your mane stays gloriously shiny

Always pack a bottle of water when embarking on a stakeout. You might get thirsty

When staging a huge police ambush, bulletproof vests are optional and not encouraged if you think it might make your leatherwear less sexy

Rent/Bury/Buy

For an awful movie, Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun Li is a pretty packed DVD. Several featurettes are quite self-congratulating, and a commentary offers the magnanimous wisdom of the filmmakers in casing Kruek because they were looking for an actress with "an Asian feel." That being said, one shouldn't pay more than the price of an imitation Reeses Peanut Butter Cup to watch it. The movie is awful, but somewhat likably so. Somewhat. Not really. 

Nash. Out!

Doomed to Watch Doom

I don’t know why I expect video game-based films to be fun. I don’t even find video games themselves to be that enjoyable (though my nostalgic affection remains firmly in place for Street Fighter 2 and Zombies Ate My Neighbors). When you beat them, there’s the inevitable disappointment, a sort of “that’s it?” 30-second epilogue to reward hours of carpel tunnel syndrome-in-training fingers.

So fine. I am indeed bitter over the finale to Super Mario Bros. 2’s end on first generation Nintendo, when even if you spent an entire weekend playing as Princess Daisy, you beat the big boss only to discover the entire storyline was just a nighttime dream for a snoring Mario. 

Not cool childhood.

But anyway, Doom, a film I lazily used as background for the bimonthly cleaning of the actual Doll’s House, is no Super Mario Bros. That’s a good thing. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that Doom is, you know...a good thing.

Quick Plot: In the year 2046, scientists are playing with genes in space, which inevitably leads to super human monsters that leap around while coated in early CGI flubber. A military recon group led by a surprisingly dour Duane Johnson attempts to hunt down the infected remains of a research group on a high tech spaceship with lots of doors and disappearing/reappearing walls. And that is that.

In full honesty, I didn’t pay a lot of attention to Doom, so everything in this review should be taken with a few spoonfuls of salt substitute. Then again, if there’s one thing Doom needs, it’s more flavor, so heap it on. 

As expressed in this corner of the blogoworld nearly every other week, Starship Troopers and Total Recall are kind of the best films ever made. Space + guns + R-rating x cheesy dialog never doesn’t equal magic, so there was really no reason for why I shouldn’t have enjoyed Doom. 

But I didn’t. Perhaps it was the forced POV shots crammed in to please game fans. Perhaps, at one hour and forty five minutes, it was a half hour longer than a movie based on a video game I’ve never played had any right to be. Whatever the reason, I couldn’t quite find anything exciting to keep my eyes onscreen. 

It was a movie. I watched it. Ask me details next Thursday and I’ll probably forget that fact.

High Points

Having the main protagonists be estranged twins gave film a somewhat interesting character dynamic to play off of. Not much happened with it, but hey. It was there.

The Rock is still a little too affable to pull off playing a major villain, but I do appreciate his character’s surprising jerkitude

Low Points

Bombastically electric music and lots of character shouting at each other is a great way to 1) prevent your audience from having any idea what’s happening in tense action scenes and 2) give them migraines

Lessons Learned

If you’re a scientist in a dangerous situation, always be pretty so that marines will do favors for you

In addition to transporting your body into a superfly, teleportation presents other serious dangers, such as sucking up your lower half and rendering you butt-less for your remaining days

Rent/Bury/Buy

Video game cinema fans could do worse than giving Doom a casual try. The film provides what you’d expect and absolutely nothing more. If Alien was Jaws in space, then Doom is Deep Blue Sea in space, but just not in any way awesome. Make of that what you will and, in the words of The Rock, semper fi mother fucker. 

Really hope I find the real-life opportunity to say that. Preferably while holding a “Big. Fucking. Gun.” I found floating in a high-tech room.