BloodRayne

I almost forgot that I had seen this a month ago. I remember being excited more for the fact that Uwe Boll was in attendance so I could hear what he had to say about film-making.

Well, let's say his comments before and after the movie are revelations as to why he makes such crappy films. First off, he can't grasp why people savage his movies so much. He feels that the internet community gives him a hard time because he's German and he makes his movies with Nazi money (his quote, not mine. Of course, he was joking, right?) Secondly, he couldn't care less if the actors he has are right for the roles. In fact, finding actors is his last thing he does to secure financing for his films. Apparently, he thinks the story is strong enough to carry the film. So, this is why we end up with actors like Ben Kinglsey working alongside Michael Madsen. Really, the only thing they had was the time to do the movie and the earning of a paycheck. So, if this doesn't strike you as soulless film-making, I don't know what does. In essence, by waiting until the last possible moment to hire actors, he can make his movies with a secured budget.

Th reason why I write this is because I heard his new "epic" In the Name of the King will be a four hour film split in half like Kill Bill. This depressed me to no end. Uwe Boll really is the next Ed Wood, even though Ed Wood cared about his actors and films.

After watching BloodRayne, I am thoroughly convinced Uwe Boll will eventually make a good and entertaining movie (five years from now at the very very least.) As Alone in the Dark was a step up from House of the Dead, BloodRayne is a step up from Alone in the dark. Unfortunately, before he gets there Boll will have to continue to trek through the vast expanse of mediocrity one baby step at a time, and there is far more entertainment from a shamelessly bad movie than a merely mediocre one.

The opening credits take place over a nice little montage of paintings, then moves to a sunset in the mountains effectively establishing the mood in a surprisingly competent fashion. I found myself entertaining the idea, "You know, maybe … just maybe Boll finally made a good movie." Then just like Alone in the Dark, the first actor opened his mouth and my hopes collapsed. I shook my head, sighed, then braced myself to endure another 80 minutes of performances downplayed to the point that they lack conviction. Vladimir (Michael Madsen), the seasoned vampire hunter and head of Brimstone, delivers his lines with a tone that implies he's been around and seen everything. As a free bonus, Madsen adds an additional quality: unenthusiastic boredom.

Kagun (Ben Kingsley) the old powerful vampire lord, having achieved demi-God status amongst mortals, spends most of his time sitting, standing, or walking. He takes action only in the ceremonial sense. Played to perfection by Kingsley who goes so far as to make his own appearance in the film seem equally ceremonial and equally inconsequential.

(Although one has to wonder if Kingsley and Madsen both went overboard in their performances, or if the editing pushed the performances over the threshold. Dwell on that for a moment, but don't answer.)

Domastir (Will Sanderson), Kaguns' henchman, forever has a crazed wide-eyed stare that lacked any sense of menace. It reminded me of that look pro wrestler gives during their pre-match smack talk rants (which I, try as I might, can't watch with a straight face) ,and from hence forth I saw Domastir as the little wrestler who couldn't.

As for Rayne, herself, Kristanna Loken does an admirable job of wanting to go somewhere with the role despite being trapped by a film that's lost. It knows where it wants to go, but doesn't know how to get there. She does what she can to explore the bloodlust and turmoil of vampirism (or dhampirism) even though the film she's starring in cares only enough to explore blood, blood, and more blood (a point hammered home by the final overly-long montage at the end.)

And then Billy Zane, Elrich, comes to the rescue. Zane salvages his role by going in the exact opposite direction as the rest of the cast. He opts for an approach reminiscent of his role in Tales from the Crypt: Demon Knight, and gives two well timed blasts from the defibrillator to counter the rest of the film floating on tharzine.

More interesting, yet, is the scene with Elrich and Domastir face to face. When Domastir has a sword to Elrich's heart, staring as intently as ever like a crazed man obsessed with reading a name tag, Elrich pushes the lil' wrestler wanna-be's sword aside and dismisses the whole encounter like it was part of his Las Vegas illusionist's show where Domastir is hypnotized. Elrich and everyone in the audiences knows it's a joke, but Domastir remains clueless.

Gallons of gratuitous gore splatters the death sequences in direct answer to the growing number of PG13 films that should shoot for a hard R but sadly whore themselves to younger audiences. It's a nice thought, but it comes across as gore for the sole sake of gratuity to the point of goofiness. A direct contrast to BloodRayne's overly grounded ("grounded" as in six-feet under) performances. Yet another indication, that Billy Zane had the right idea.

Budgetary and time constraints show up in the choreography of the fights and battle scenes, and even more so in the editing of said scenes. The fights seem curiously rehearsed like a stage-dance, and the swords (practice weapons aside) have unusually thick edges. Fair game for criticism? Eh, in places, sure. No doubt, though, that Boll bashers will target anything and everything not up to Lord of the Rings standards.

In my Alone in the Dark review I mainly focused my criticism on Boll's parasitic dependency on better films for material in his own to the point that Alone in the Dark cannot stand on its own without Equilibrium, Evil Dead, and the Matrix. BloodRayne is like a baby's first step, reluctantly letting go and making an unstable effort to walk – letting go of the blatant rip offs ("homages" on steroids) and finding its own style.

Uwe Boll's not there yet, but he's getting there … one step at a time.

When I heard that Uwe Boll had challenged several of his critics to a boxing match, I thought it was an example of the man failing to understand reactions. Rather than come out looking like a misunderstood hero, he comes off as a spoiled child. So when I hear people calling Uwe the new Ed Wood, I just want to point out that this demonstrates ignorance regarding Wood. It is insulting to the poor guy. You see, Wood made one of the most daring (if staggeringly inept) films that challenged people's perceptions of transvestism and gender roles, long before this became a common theme in Hollywood. His major feature was that he lived only to make films, and did so because of motives other than cash. Boll, on the other hand, says absolutely nothing in his films that is of any value, and has shown himself in the media to be the most cynical, thoughtless idiot that ever drew breath. Another classic example of the difference between Boll and Wood, perfectly illustrated by BloodRayne, is that Wood's films made narrative sense.

If you have not played any of the video games upon which BloodRayne is based, then it will make very little sense to you. The parts about Rayne being the child of a vampire and a human, I get, but the film is loaded with references to artifacts that the villain needs in order to gain power, which Rayne must obviously stop him from acquiring. This reminds me of the sequence from Bakshi's adaptation of The Lord Of The Rings in which the explanation of what the One Ring is and what it does was meant to be delivered. By failing to deliver this critical information in a manner that makes sense to the viewer, both films end up disjointed and pointless. Only BloodRayne makes it much, much worse by jumping around from location to location, showing confrontations between Rayne and various enemies without a pause for explanation as to why this is significant. Ten bucks to anyone who can figure out exactly why Boll chose to end the film with a bunch of flashbacks to disjointed events that have no connection to the film's "present time", when the climactic slaying would have done just fine.

Another of Boll's few talents is to classically miscast. Kristanna Loken is surprisingly good as the titular character, and puts in a far better performance than I would have credited her with after that abysmal Terminator rip-off. It is certainly far better than the film deserves. Michelle Rodriguez looks extremely angry to be there. Matthew Davis has this stupid expression on his face all the time that appears to be him begging for some direction. Michael Madsen, Billy Zane, and Udo Kier literally are on autopilot. But Meat Loaf, the poor guy, seems to be trying to take his role seriously, and never have I see an actor look so uncomfortable in his work. He almost looks as if he is going to have a stroke from all the "what the hell am I doing here?" instructions his brain is trying to process. But the real gem here is Ben Kingsley, winner of one Academy Award and nominee for three others. He seriously looks as if he is going to burst out in laughter at any second during his scenes with Loken. And who can honestly blame him?

A mention must be made of the abysmal special effects here, too. Boll at least knows that the audience for a film based on this video game expects to see blood, and a lot of it. However, like every other aspect of his films, the delivery is so staggeringly inept that it makes one wonder how Boll can be so blind to this. Not only does the head of one opponent look despicably fake, the looks on the faces of the extras when they are shown chopping things up with their swords is utterly hilarious. Someone had to direct them to assume that expression, as swinging an actual sword hard enough to sever a limb involves enough exertion that one at least pulls some kind of face in the process. They said it best in Showdown In Little Tokyo - beheadings are not as easy as they look. Yet Boll seems to think he can silence individuals who feel he is utterly inept as a director by hitting them. If I could say one thing to his face right now, it would be that keeping silent and working on making a genuinely good film would have worked a lot more.

So I mean it when I say this film is not as bad as many others have said - it is even worse. A competent director like Wolfgang Petersen would have connected the story together properly, and at least shot the violence in a convincing fashion. A brilliant director such as Paul Verhoeven would have found a way to satirise the social mores of the eighteenth century, and delivered enough convincing violence to give the MPAA fits at the same time. As much as Boll would like to pretend otherwise on the basis of sales figures in countries where they would probably not understand the abysmal dialogue anyway, he is nowhere near the league of Petersen or Verhoeven. And that is a big part of what makes his films so insulting to the general public. Boll would like us to believe that he is some kind of misunderstood genius who keeps striking out with critics because they do not understand his message. Well, Boll, the disjointed plot aside, I understand you just fine. The thing is, when I do understand your films, I do not want them anymore.

So I gave BloodRayne a two out of ten. A one would only further its position on the bottom one hundred, and it is deserving of infamy in neither sense of the word. Avoid.

This is singularly one of the worst films I've ever seen. After seeing a wide selection of decent horror at Fantastic Fest a few weeks ago, I expected this to have some substance because it was picked to screen at the Austin Film Festival. All I can think of is that someone must have blackmailed the programmers because it's terrible.

The dailogue is either very cliché, or very stilted (and often both). There are serious continuity issues. The gratuitous sex scene was so completely sudden it seemed like an excerpt from a porn movie. The wigs are terrible, and the costuming as bad. There is no character development, and the motivations shown on screen seem more like red herrings than anything else.

I can't think of anything redeeming about this film other than I didn't pay money just to see it.

So women sometime before the XIX, but after the XVI century traveled alone on horseback, half-naked, always cold, carrying swords in their backs, and the cities were a model of pulchritude. Yeah, right. It does not even work as a metaphor. When the director wants to show us an evil character, there is a Ben Kinsgley with an over-sized wig remembering in black and white his cruel dialog: "Tell me where is my damphir" "No" says the mother. "Tell me" "No" Pum! Pow! The scariest thing of this movie is to see such potentially good actors in such lame dialogs. You will experience anguish as an spectator, as you feel other people's shame (the actors). Even if you like awful movies (sometimes I do), please do not waste your money in this one. The director might be encouraged to punish us again. I wish IMDb had negative stars.