m-a-elsewhere
Joined Feb 2013
Welcome to the new profile
Our updates are still in development. While the previous version of the profile is no longer accessible, we're actively working on improvements, and some of the missing features will be returning soon! Stay tuned for their return. In the meantime, the Ratings Analysis is still available on our iOS and Android apps, found on the profile page. To view your Rating Distribution(s) by Year and Genre, please refer to our new Help guide.
Badges2
To learn how to earn badges, go to the badges help page.
Reviews17
m-a-elsewhere's rating
Giant human-piloted mecha space-traveling war-machines fill the very rich, lived-in, perennially popular future history of anime's Gundam universe. Yet except for a promptly-forgotten Canadian TV movie, the numerous Gundam permutations have never been explored on the big screen (although a live-action...but sadly not big budget...adaptation has been just been announced; no writers, director, nor cast, so it might or might not exist in a few years). Practically an embryonic Marvel universe, rife with creative potential.
Would that Guillermo del Toro had turned to this existing mythos for 2013's PACIFIC RIM--he surely could have worked kaiju into his script somehow-if only in service of creating a viable franchise going forward. A Gundam adaptation, or merely inspiration, could easily have resulted in a sequel far more satisfying than watching talented actors squandered on Steven DeKnight's insulting hodgepodge of inept direction, incompetent story-telling, and encyclopedic list of rando cliches.
Would that Guillermo del Toro had turned to this existing mythos for 2013's PACIFIC RIM--he surely could have worked kaiju into his script somehow-if only in service of creating a viable franchise going forward. A Gundam adaptation, or merely inspiration, could easily have resulted in a sequel far more satisfying than watching talented actors squandered on Steven DeKnight's insulting hodgepodge of inept direction, incompetent story-telling, and encyclopedic list of rando cliches.
Spiritual awakening in the scenic byways of western Canada...but only sort of.
Less extreme horror exploitation than a null-budget anarcho-punk statement from identical twin sister auteurs Jen & Sylvia Soska (a.k.a. Twisted Twins), DEAD HOOKER IN A TRUNK is the visual equivalent of lo-fi riot grrrl garage rock—mashing up Robert Rodriguez, Harmony Korine, Nick Zedd, Amos Poe, and Eli Roth, with an occasional whiff of Greg Araki.
The movie has to be taken on its own terms. In keeping with a homage to no wave and grindhouse esthetics, the Soskas apparently consider continuity to be cisgender heteronormative fascism imposed by imperialist capitalist elitism: exterior shots filmed before & after a snowstorm are spliced together; one character's severed limb randomly appears re-attached; it seems that a lead role had to be reinvented on the fly when the actress cast for the part didn't show up on set and the only available substitute was the cameraman. Some viewers can roll with this; others can't.
Still, the script is energetic, brutal, funny, often quite sparkling, albeit the actors mumble and stumble through any dialogue more complicated that "F*&K!"
The plot? There's a dead hooker in the trunk: roll camera and--ACTION!
More specifically: Geek, her severely hungover twin sister Badass, and Badass' equally hungover punk-rawk pal Junkie are giving Geek's friend Goody Two-Shoes a lift home from his Christian youth ministry when, en route, they discover that someone's stashed drugs and a corpse in the boot of Badass' car.
So...call the police? It's not like they had anything to do with it, right? Well, that's another problem--
BADASS: "Last night is really fuzzy..."
Thus the quartet, uncertain whether they're psycho-killers, have to find an informal way to ditch a cadaver in suburban Vancouver in broad daylight in winter--and pious Goody Two-Shoes demands they do so while respecting the dignity of the deceased. Plus, they're all being hunted by the real murderer or murderers.
Complications, mayhem, mutilations, homicides' 'n' hijinx, along with gratuitous everything and a cameo appearance by God, ensue.
It all hangs together—often barely—by dint of the Soska sisters' relentless fan-sensibility attitude.
Less extreme horror exploitation than a null-budget anarcho-punk statement from identical twin sister auteurs Jen & Sylvia Soska (a.k.a. Twisted Twins), DEAD HOOKER IN A TRUNK is the visual equivalent of lo-fi riot grrrl garage rock—mashing up Robert Rodriguez, Harmony Korine, Nick Zedd, Amos Poe, and Eli Roth, with an occasional whiff of Greg Araki.
The movie has to be taken on its own terms. In keeping with a homage to no wave and grindhouse esthetics, the Soskas apparently consider continuity to be cisgender heteronormative fascism imposed by imperialist capitalist elitism: exterior shots filmed before & after a snowstorm are spliced together; one character's severed limb randomly appears re-attached; it seems that a lead role had to be reinvented on the fly when the actress cast for the part didn't show up on set and the only available substitute was the cameraman. Some viewers can roll with this; others can't.
Still, the script is energetic, brutal, funny, often quite sparkling, albeit the actors mumble and stumble through any dialogue more complicated that "F*&K!"
The plot? There's a dead hooker in the trunk: roll camera and--ACTION!
More specifically: Geek, her severely hungover twin sister Badass, and Badass' equally hungover punk-rawk pal Junkie are giving Geek's friend Goody Two-Shoes a lift home from his Christian youth ministry when, en route, they discover that someone's stashed drugs and a corpse in the boot of Badass' car.
So...call the police? It's not like they had anything to do with it, right? Well, that's another problem--
BADASS: "Last night is really fuzzy..."
Thus the quartet, uncertain whether they're psycho-killers, have to find an informal way to ditch a cadaver in suburban Vancouver in broad daylight in winter--and pious Goody Two-Shoes demands they do so while respecting the dignity of the deceased. Plus, they're all being hunted by the real murderer or murderers.
Complications, mayhem, mutilations, homicides' 'n' hijinx, along with gratuitous everything and a cameo appearance by God, ensue.
It all hangs together—often barely—by dint of the Soska sisters' relentless fan-sensibility attitude.
A extreme post-apocalyptic action gore comedy that proves to be far more accomplished—and far funnier—that it probably has any right to be.
Celebrity assassins Drifter, his nemesis/lover Mary Death, and their novice gun caddy (who's supposed to schlep a golf bag full of military assault weapons, recommending the appropriate gun for each kill) Road Warrior their way through a nuclear hellscape in which the evil Ayn Rand-inspired war criminals & their murderous henchmen all wear Armani suits with very loud matching ties; the armies of moral ambiguity are Juggalos; Western "stagecoaches" are Winnebagos hitched to synchronized Harleys; and the ultimate currency is a can of PBR. Somehow this all hangs together, albeit by partially severed limbs.
Adapted from his own graphic novel by screenwriter Jason Dodson, the movie is a family affair and first feature for both Dodson and his cousin, director Henry Saine. Which, in a low-budget indie, is rarely auspicious, but works well in this case. The script and set pieces are crisp, on point, and often quite original. The acting, fight choreography & editing are impressively self-assured. Even the sfx appear far more big-budget than they can possibly be. And although Saine and Dodson aren't yet in a league with Robert Rodriguez or Yoshihiro Nishamura, they've successfully delivered an amusing, lightning-paced freshman effort with flying bloody colors.
Celebrity assassins Drifter, his nemesis/lover Mary Death, and their novice gun caddy (who's supposed to schlep a golf bag full of military assault weapons, recommending the appropriate gun for each kill) Road Warrior their way through a nuclear hellscape in which the evil Ayn Rand-inspired war criminals & their murderous henchmen all wear Armani suits with very loud matching ties; the armies of moral ambiguity are Juggalos; Western "stagecoaches" are Winnebagos hitched to synchronized Harleys; and the ultimate currency is a can of PBR. Somehow this all hangs together, albeit by partially severed limbs.
Adapted from his own graphic novel by screenwriter Jason Dodson, the movie is a family affair and first feature for both Dodson and his cousin, director Henry Saine. Which, in a low-budget indie, is rarely auspicious, but works well in this case. The script and set pieces are crisp, on point, and often quite original. The acting, fight choreography & editing are impressively self-assured. Even the sfx appear far more big-budget than they can possibly be. And although Saine and Dodson aren't yet in a league with Robert Rodriguez or Yoshihiro Nishamura, they've successfully delivered an amusing, lightning-paced freshman effort with flying bloody colors.