Showing posts with label chain letter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chain letter. Show all posts

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Only An Anthology Could Make Me Rap


Anthology horror films are my Target brand trail mix. I'll always buy it, but only parts inside will work. You know what to expect--saltiness, twist endings, karma, too many pretzels--but occasionally get nice surprises that are briefly extremely exciting--chocolate covered espresso beans, killer African tribal dolls, corn nuts, Richard Moll. While neither is ever The Greatest Creation Mankind Can Make, both are a tad more exciting than their rivals. I'd rather eat a mixed bag of Cajun peanuts and pumpkin seeds than a mere box of crackers in the same way I'm happier watching Creepshow 2 than I would be with The Prowler. 

It’s how I roll.
Hence, when my blogging brother Cortez the Killer of Planet of Terror gave me the heads up that Nite (sic) Tales, a two-part horrorshow hosted by Flavor Flav, was streaming, you could bet my own personal VH1 dating show that I'll give it a go.
Quick Plot: Flavor Flav says something about something, some of which may or may not rhyme. 
His enunciation is poor and I didn't really catch much, save for him welcoming me to "the new movie, Nite Tales." 
I like when I'm welcomed to movies, although generally that happens when an usher rips my ticket or an animated box of popcorn dances before telling me to turn off my cell phone. But who am I to judge? I worked at a concession stand for 4 months and never came up with the right quip for when I said "Enjoy your movie" and the customers said "You too...oh wait! YOU'RE not going to the movie" so ultimately, I am on par with Flavor Flav.


Story 1 is called Karma, because like 90% of anthology tales, it involves comeuppance. We meet a quartet of bank robbers with twitchy trigger fingers who find themselves at a Texas Chainsaw-like farmhouse inhabited by the other kinds of hoodies (satan worshippers--I think--not Klansmen). There's a lot of shouting in urban style, followed by shouting in white Southern style. Unlike most shorts, the tale doesn't have a twist per say, although it's sufficiently told in an underwhelming, but competent manner.

The second tale, on the other hand, is not. "Storm" follows a group of teenagers partying at home during the titular bad weather, playing around with pot and Bloody Mary (the ghost, not the drink). Just as the power goes out, Tony Todd shows up dressed like a grumpy clown, a one-earring wearing police offer swings by to put everyone off-ease, and some of the prettier stars get sliced up. 

Now all this sounds fine, especially for a quick 45 minute segment. Except Storm has no concept on how to pace itself and just...keeps...going. As I've said before and will inevitably say again, the biggest crime an anthology film can commit is the act of dragging. The whole POINT of a multi-segmented film is that you take a story that doesn’t warrant ninety minutes and pound us with a complete arc in less than forty. 
Perhaps the problem is that Storm tries to be too ambitious, using not one but two urban legends as its basis. There's the early establishment of Bloody Mary, but ten minutes later, we may have well forgotten that name was ever uttered as the mystery of a loose serial killer (is it the clown? the cop? the kid that keeps talking about pot?) takes center stage. Then falls off the stage. But gets back up. Or something.

It's frustrating, mostly because it means it's not fun. Tony Todd is never not great to watch, and he does what he can to keep our interest, while the young cast flops around in ill-defined roles that we never care about in the least. I don't know what director Deon (Chain Letter) Taylor was going for, and while there is potential in the story's complications, it's just too messily done in its brief running time.
High Points
There's some fun humor to be had in Nite Tales, most of which does not actually come from Flavor Flav's mugging. Coulrophobes should snicker at the way the characters in the second story react to Todd's circus reject "DUDE! You let a CLOWN in my house?"

Low Points
In addition to the already discussed pacing, can we address the fact that Nite Tales (note that I'm already being forgiving of its stupidly spelled title) breaks the SECOND rule of anthologies, i.e., Thou Shalt Always Include a Killer Doll Segment
Lessons Learned
If you love deals, your favorite show is Deal or No Deal

Avoid trusting police officers with questionable diamond earrings

Everything scares Clay Aiken
Working in a bank will blacken your blood, literally

Cuss Police
This is the first time I've ever seen this happen on Netflix Instant Watch: all the curses in Nite Tales are muted out. No, there's no VH1 Showgirls hilarity with dubbed alternates. Just silence whenever a character curses. Huh?
Michael J. Pagan Alert!
He is to the Doll's House what Cameron Mitchell is to a Mill Creek pack. In 2011, I've reviewed a total of four films (and counting) starring this young actor, including one that he co-wrote. Yes, it was Chain Letter (the others being House of Fears and See No Evil) and yes, I'm convinced that we're destined to either marry or destroy one another. 

Rent/Bury/Buy
This is the second film I've reviewed by Code Black Entertainment (the first being April Fools) and while it's certainly an improvement, Nite Tales is still sorely lacking. The first story is passable, if a tad predictable, while the second is built on a strong idea but executed with the sluggish confusion of a dyslexic slug. Anthology fetishists may still enjoy the film and it certainly offers something mildly different in that regard, especially in following black thugs in Karma. I guess it's a must for Flavor Flav fans, although I also hope those don't actually exist so I suppose that means it's not a must for anyone in particular. If that makes sense, like a sixpence, but yo yo friend, I don't know what that mends, cause that's how I rhyme, I just say things that kind of sound fine, so go behave, I'm Flavor Flav.
I think I just rewrote the opening to this film.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Get LINKED In


How to feel about a straight-to-DVD slasher that ambitiously opens with a quote by 20th century philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche? The only way to answer that question is to first ask this: what kind of drunk are you?

Emotional? Happy? Angry? Sleepy? Because so long as you have a bottle or thirty of your favorite poison and follow my rules to take a swig any time the word ‘chain’ is uttered or an ACTUAL chain appears onscreen, you will be loopier than Tara Reid crashing a frat party.
Quick Plot: We open on the sideways Hitcher-esque killing of a teenager who is (lift glass) chained to a man and woman's separate cars. As the couple split ways to their high powered jobs, the bloody credits roll and to high school we go.

There we meet Jess (Twilight’s Nikki Reed) a smartypants who can prove her intelligence by wearing glasses and being brunette. 


That doesn’t spare her from the same text message fate as her floozier friends, all of whom receive a chain (drink) letter that they must Blackberry back to four more cell phone users...or DIE.


By CHAINS (sip)

The token jock turns his steroid filled nose at such a task, and for that, he’s naturally murdered by CHAINS (refill). So is, we later discover, his workout frenemy who ALSO spurned the CHAIN (oooh, nice and cold) letter and gets rewarded with a nice burning alive while dangling from...chains.


As you can guess, this kind of thing keeps happening. Even the nerdy gamer who dutifully shares his CHAIN (burp)-- 


letter can’t catch a break, mostly because he’s so annoying that the killer seems to just purposely burden the boy with spam spam spam (all of the CHAIN variety, meaning he CAN’T keep forwarding and therefore deserves to die...by CHAIN). 
So who’s behind this CHAIN of events (spit it back for the bad pun). Is it Jess’ un-tech-friendly suitor played by Deadgirl’s sadist Noah Segan? Keith David’s grizzled detective? 


Jigsaw’s ex-wife’s heavily lipglossed policewoman? 


Brad Dourif as a slightly creepy cell phone hating teacher? 


Or, SPOILER ALERT, just some crazy dude war veteran who really digs chains?
Do you care? Nah, but the kills sure are neat! Chain Letter is an ugly film, one clearly milking its freedom in the DVD market by piling up the gore with quite decent skill. Along the way, we get lots of heavyhanded--and already dated--social commentary about modern society’s reliance on technology, from online dating to the ever-ubiquitous cell phones seemingly glued--or lift up, CHAINED--into the hands of every actor under 25. I suppose it’s supposed to mean something, though ultimately, the very linking of the murders with technology is oddly contradictory.

Oh but really now, just because we’re leading off with some 20th century philosophy doesn’t mean we’re supposed to THINK about this movie. Especially since we’re 50 chains in and I’m already wasted.

High Points
SPOILER
Chain Letter was clearly aiming to leave some form of lasting memory by violating the laws of slasher in its finale. The nice kid love interest gets smashed immediately, the good girl dies--quite brutally, by (drink) chains--the villain hunts on and the black guy (or at least, one of them) lives. Perhaps it tries too hard, but I still appreciate the effort

Low Points
SPOILER
So a man who despises technology decides to use it as an excuse to kill teenagers that use it but in order to kill them, they have to use it which he hates. Anybody else see some faulty logic in this motive?
Fears Abated
Did the rise of the Internet make you fear the loss of those great Microfisch research montages in cinema? Worry not, as Compass Find or Giggle or whatever the NOT Google search engine used by our heroine here gets plenty of screentime
Disclaimer
If like me, you were occasionally haunting the young adult section of your local bookstore in the mid-90s, you might recall a certain big print novel also named Chain Letter and written by one Christopher “Not R.L. Stine” Pike. This film does not adapt that fairly decent for its type book. Nor does it take a stab (or chain--drink) at Chain Letter 2, which if memory served, added a cult and puppy slaughter to the far more PG-13 narrative of its predecessor.

Rent/Bury/Buy
Well, for a 90 minute stream on Instant Watch, one could certainly do worst than Chain Letter. It’s filled with some surprisingly creative deaths (all involving--slurp--CHAINS) and slick production values, even if the story is rubbish and plotting more ridiculous than one of those overly complicated episodes of Law & Order: SVU. So queue it up if you’re in the mood for something new, mean, not very good, or one that has a lot, a whole lot, and I mean a ridiculously lot, and did I mention a lot? of CHAINS.

You still with me?