kensirhan-86198

Despite being let down (again) by fake locations - a situation I 1st experienced with Stephen King's inspirational '83 book Christine, which use of musical lyric quotes is something (also "plain" dialogue) I have employed in my own writings for over 30 years; his Maine falsifications have never had the same impact - & the less than "charming" appearance of a dinky pre-Brentwood in '94 Bronco as a cop truck, I found these scenarios ("scenaria"?) absorbing, gripping, well-written &, most importantly, well-directed/acted, as there was nary a "soft spot" that set my attention wandering. "It happens (too) frequently" (begging Miss Julie Andrews's pardon), but Not Here! The 1 character weakness that failed really to generate any hoped-for "malice" compared to the soulless killers is the corrupt female detective; this could be attributed to the lack of any assigned "depth" to her along with scarcity of appearance, but her "surprise" unmasking as Not A Nice Lady didn't have the same impact as that of the greasy slimeball Oh Dep-u-tee! Whose betrayal was much more gradually built up, "you know, for suspense!" But as long as they were out there fighting the dust devils of the desert, having not "toined left at Alba-coicky!" location scouting, there isn't some overlooked somewhat forlorn heat-shimmering real outpost in them Burning Sands that would have been all too thrilled to be portrayed in a movie? "Ohh, too bad!" there, but overall it's compelling enough to reexamine more than once (just finished my 3rd!) & "that lovely & gracious lady" who truly embodies Daffy Duck's attempt to be The Hero Of Th(e) Picture! Is so good at conveying the strength, resolve, cleverness & fortitude more (tiresomely) ascribed to male characters (& being both black & refreshingly NOT possessed of false hair like an offshoot of Cousin Itt) is who should've gotten "starring" billing on here along with the 2 lunks, who were Fine Just Fine but actually didn't project quite enough "menace" to fill the presumed Cold & Calculated aspects that would result in much gasping & clutching of zirconias while of course being too enthralled to look away & want More Thereof. A,genuine startlement as the opening credits flew past - which while Just A Touch too speedy stiil were dispensed with in gratifyingly crisp time & not allowed to "overflow" into the action like so many other movies & tv shows, the worst of such offenders that have those hugely annoying distractions Still Rolling 10-15 minutes after opening! - was the name of Toby Huss, which while it's been plenty minutes since I last saw King Of The Hill that name was of instant recognition from that; I just never knew, outside of the lamentably too-early ascended Brittany Murphy (M. S. R. E I. P.), who portrayed who in that haystack of hilarity, so that led me to go a-huntin for more details about him! Now he had the creepiness down, no question; I actually got a comparative impression to J. P. Ryan in Runaway Train ('85) whose intensity there I had wondered was born from past grievances. Because the notso nice Mr. Huss did not devolve into a lightweight caricature, his characterization conveyed more icy scariness, sprinkled with deadly humor, than the familiar name of Gerard Butler or that other dude running around with a (tasty & delicious) pickle's name! Well now I've got some more research/watching to do on his part also. It may not approach a 9-layer chocolate cake in "multiplicity" & we could have done with A Little Bit More fleshing out of a couple of characters, but it isn't composed of the "unrealistic realism" that has infested 3 (overly) praised tv shows & their metastasized spinoffs (CSI, Law & Order, Criminal Minds) which have become, like Lost - which "lost" me permanent with S2 E1 - practically desperate to be/do more so as to keep them Easy To Get audiences tuned in! No sequel here either wanted or needed, but I hope for Ms. Alexis Louder's continued, improving success at her craft; with Just A Sample Ruggles! Here, she oughta be in high demand - only please to appear in productions with quality to match!

Yet another in rare company of persons, characters, books or films that scrape my nerves from the gate so bad that either must needs bail from any proximity thereto and/or Never To Return. In the case of this wannabe thriller, it has *2* such characters that put me in That I Could Not Stand (anymore)! Mode, which "one may presume" (Who Is Killing The Great Chefs Of Europe (1978), 1 of only 2 movies (A Simple Plan (1998) I have found whose filmed versions did their source material the greatest favor) were picked for their roles as being The Perfect Choice(s), which they delivered the "bads" so effectively that barely ½ an hour elapsed before I went into Lolobrickida mode (as above) & left those 2 intolerable performances wheels up in the ditch. 1st off the plate is the antagonist brat boy who wore out his welcome with me faster than with the unwitting couple moved into his grandpa's house, & the other being the male of the couple, whose short supply of spine ("other parts" could apply as well), which his non-Angel Soft waffling dismissal of his lady's concerns is what finally drove me to change the channel. But that gritted teeth overacting guy playing the baby psycho - who can only wish he had the exterior deceptive looks of (way too) many real monstrosities - already had me 7/8ths over my line of tolerance before then; has this been a real circumstance I was facing, his overbearing intrusiveness would've been stomped flatter than an original Hardee's horseburger Real Quick! There wasn't, to the point where like in that horrid book A Simple Plan I literally hurled in the trash after barely a hundred pages, a single redeeming personality other than the lady tenant to even remotely latch onto to root for. Everybody else was variously annoying, irritating & infuriating - especially that brat boy who, the director's fault as with G. Lou Kiss & that wretched Barf Wars trilogy ('99-'05), projected about as much real menace (!) as a bowl of dry cereal. Maybe things manage to take a turn for the intended "worse" after the point where I kicked it past the curb, but that loud screeching sniveling whiner with a role in Superboy ('15) on his résumé - ooh the chills I got just reading that make a space heater jealous! - has a LONG way to go to achieve that kind of convincing depth. Perhaps someday - though not "soon" as Janet Jackson once crooned it - I might just go back to pick it back up from its deserved place in that nice swampy ditch I left it in, for curiosity sake as to how it ends. I sure do hope it's as I'd like! But clearly I'm going to need some stronger Liquid Refreshment than "diet beer" (as in l-i-t-e spells that) to attend it; if that boy doesn't manage to conjure up some real Frighty Night scares to offset his exaggerated grimacing & shrieking that to that point convey nothing of the sort, I'll have some invective for him that will do lots better! Yet another in rare company of persons, characters, books or films that scrape my nerves from the gate so bad that either must needs bail from any proximity thereto and/or Never To Return. In the case of this wannabe thriller, it has *2* such characters that put me in That I Could Not Stand (anymore)! Mode, which "one may presume" (Who Is Killing The Great Chefs Of Europe (1978), 1 of only 2 movies (A Simple Plan (1998) I have found whose filmed versions did their source material the greatest favor) were picked for their roles as being The Perfect Choice(s), which they delivered the "bads" so effectively that barely ½ an hour elapsed before I went into Lolobrickida mode (as above) & left those 2 intolerable performances wheels up in the ditch. 1st off the plate is the antagonist brat boy who wore out his welcome with me faster than with the unwitting couple moved into his grandpa's house, & the other being the male of the couple, whose short supply of spine ("other parts" could apply as well), which his non-Angel Soft waffling dismissal of his lady's concerns is what finally drove me to change the channel. But that gritted teeth overacting guy playing the baby psycho - who can only wish he had the exterior deceptive looks of (way too) many real monstrosities - already had me 7/8ths over my line of tolerance before then; has this been a real circumstance I was facing, his overbearing intrusiveness would've been stomped flatter than an original Hardee's horseburger Real Quick! There wasn't, to the point where like in that horrid book A Simple Plan I literally hurled in the trash after barely a hundred pages, a single redeeming personality other than the lady tenant to even remotely latch onto to root for. Everybody else was variously annoying, irritating & infuriating - especially that brat boy who, the director's fault as with G. Lou Kiss & that wretched Barf Wars trilogy ('99-'05), projected about as much real menace (!) as a bowl of dry cereal. Maybe things manage to take a turn for the intended "worse" after the point where I kicked it past the curb, but that loud screeching sniveling whiner with a role in Superboy ('15) on his résumé - ooh the chills I got just reading that make a space heater jealous! - has a LONG way to go to achieve that kind of convincing depth. Perhaps someday - though not "soon" as Janet Jackson once crooned it - I might just go back to pick it back up from its deserved place in that nice swampy ditch I left it in, for curiosity sake as to how it ends. I sure do hope it's as I'd like! But clearly I'm going to need some stronger Liquid Refreshment than "diet beer" (as in l-i-t-e spells that) to attend it; if that boy doesn't manage to conjure up some real Frighty Night scares to offset his exaggerated grimacing & shrieking that to that point convey nothing of the sort, I'll have some invective for him that will do lots better!

This originally was a sleepless middle of the night accidental discovery, which knowing before of Luke Perry but not Miss Ashley, I decided to give it a spin. I had to See It Again on a subsequent cable airing because My First Sight (Mr. Spock, of Dr. McCoy) of Luke was an instant drop into Pepe le Pew territory, & my Tasmanian Devilish eyepopped jawdropped panting & whooping did not permit a more absorbed study of the proceedings! This situation though was markedly dampened by Miss Ashley, who impressed me as ill-fitting the role; her screechy "plasticine" superficial performance - the result of too many takes? - clashed sharply with that of Luke, who along with his "seasoned" looks past The Hills Of Beverly days (that stache & his furrowed forehead over top of his expressive eyes had me in Tongue Hanging Out A Foot! Mode) was of a more "convincing" stance; only his inescapable interactions with the lady & her wince-inducing presentation diminished that literally "twisting the night away" response. The alleged Love Scenes had less depth than a cracked kiddie pool, the 2 of them evincing as much chemistry as oil & water. Let's hear it for the dog, though of aggravatingly small appearance. With other sources having praised her here as "her best performance to date," this impression comes off as being of somewhat desperate tone to find at least something to thumbs up about her. But having seen none of whatever she had performed in hitherto, or afterwards, if that is the case, then she's clearly skated by on whatever "looks" she possesses, because to me she didn't have as much of the unfortunate "strained" quality poor Chris Farley brought in his sadly failed attempts to duplicate Belushi (their horrendous "twin" deaths don't count), but it was not until approaching the end of their line that Miss Ashley quit scene ripping, yelling & thrashing about in a vain effort to convey the "dislocation" of her character's miserable drugged out existence (having witnessed literally across the street from me years ago the spiral of 2 brothers from promising, despite their "rockhound" ways which I tried to help them escape, to dug-in superglued slavitude that landed them both behind bars, in the short space of 3 years, I know whereof that unfortunately goes), & to me really got some meat on her bones of projecting what that was supposed to be. Too little too late in that regard, though I was moved to misty-eyed sadness at the concluding Terrible Waste of their lives, both acted & in actuality. Still, despite its drawbacks it is even 3 decades later an effective object lesson for those can both use & heed it - since that will be something that will ever be a problem as long as Terran humanoids inhabit they are likewise wasting.