Reality comes crashing down on your memories

 TOTAL RECALL (1990)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Total Recall" has some nifty special-effects and Arnold Schwarzenegger delivering comical punchlines and kicking ass, and naturally shooting a few people along the way. This is an adaptation of a Philip K. Dick novelette that may bring up ideas of identity and alternate reality but all of that vanishes with its elongated chase story of a would-be secret agent. Or is he?

Arnie is Douglas Quaid, a construction worker in the year 2084 who is married to Lori (Sharon Stone), "the girl of his dreams," who wishes Doug would dream of anything except Mars. Doug is obsessed and keeps watching the news about Mars involving a freedom brigade, mining operations and alien artifacts. Despite his obsession and being told by a co-worker that the fantasy travel agency where you can virtually pretend to go to Mars left someone lobotomized, well, you can't keep a man like Arnie from being less than curious. It is more than a virtual experience - they implant false memories in your brain. Something about this seems less than a fleeting fantasy where, for an extra charge, you can pretend to be a secret agent and save Mars and its people. 

There is much here that could be mined for a psychological exploration of one's psyche, identity and the implications of false memories but "Total Recall" is not that kind of movie. It is a concrete, muscular action movie with Arnie being chased by villains led by the one and only Richter (Michael Ironside) - his arched eyebrows alone could do all the killing. Also oozing some malevolence is Ronny Cox as Cohaagen, the Martian governor who could care less about the population especially when they need air to survive (Cohaagen is so evil that he knocks over a fish aquarium killing its fish). Richter is so evil that he can kill a rat impulsively. Schwarzenegger manages a couple of goofy one-liners like "You're screwed!" or "Consider that a divorce!" Some portions of the film can verge on misogyny and almost all the women, except for Stone's duplicitous Lori, are depicted as prostitutes. Nevertheless, "Total Recall" has the right atmosphere (so to speak) for the depiction of Mars plus the immense production design surrounding the vast underground spaces near an alien reactor. Of course, Schwarzenegger is a rousing action hero and, though he may not show much nuance as Quaid, he gets the job done. Nasty fun but expect only a trickling of Philip K. Dick's ideas here. 

E.T.'s have always been home

 DISCLOSURE DAY (2026)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Whenever I see any recent UFO's or UAP's footage, I am less than thrilled and feel I have been conned. Everything is grainy, out-of-focus or simply a case of people who refuse to get to close to anything resembling an alien because, in a sense, it lends credibility for some and for others it just proves the visual evidence is hogwash. "Disclosure Day" sort of mimics the grainy, black-and-white and out-of-focus footage during its grand finale - I think it is suggesting that any real disclosures of alien intelligence suppressed by the government will be far more glorious, unimaginable footage than any movie can provide. There's not much in "Disclosure Day" that you haven't seen before yet there is enough here to provide intrigue and entertainment value until, well, we will see.

A young whistleblower and cybersecurity expert named Dr. Daniel Kellner (Josh O'Connor) is being chased by the secret government agency, Wardex Corporation, because he has stolen files copied to thumb drives that holds over 70 years' worth of visual proof of extra-terrestrials on this planet. He's on the run with his exhausted girlfriend, Jane (Eve Hewson), a former novitiate, and they hide in a nunnery and then some house in the middle of a rural area that surely can be pinpointed by the government in seconds. 

Meanwhile, a Kansas City meteorologist, Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt), with bigger aspirations to become a news anchor, has a moment live on air where she makes clicking sounds and then collapses. It is not a language anyone can understand except for Wardex and the fugitive doctor who immediately get wind of this situation - the language is extra-terrestrial. Wyatt Russell is Jackson, Margaret's boyfriend, who has no idea what is going on and is in constant disbelief over Margaret's amazing psychic abilities that have been dormant for some time. They too go on the run when Margaret realizes she has a connection to Daniel. I sensed a little throwback to Spielberg's "The Sugarland Express" here but I digress.

"Disclosure Day" is a Steven Spielberg chase picture and who else can do this like nobody's business. Spielberg and writer David Koepp allow time for some introspection and philosophies over Daniel's wanting to disclose the files online - would it cause a national discussion and interest in what the government has been hiding from us all along? And what about those who follow any religion and have faith in God, would this cause a rupture in their religious belief system that only humans exist in the universe? These are fascinating questions that are brought up but never exactly followed through. What would the existence of alien life actually do to us in our planet? Would people even care in 2026? My suspicion is, unfortunately, no. 

There are some unnerving scenes with Colin Firth as the Wardex CEO Noah Scanlon, who can telepathically communicate with Margaret and Jane thanks to an alien wand of sorts. This wand can cause him pain and turns his eyes black or turquoise blue, and Firth conveys that tension beautifully. All this is to gather information on the whereabouts of our protagonists which begs the question, what sort of alien "thingy" is this? The most unnerving and scary moment that gave me major goosebumps is when Jane is almost held in a trance and pierces her hand with a crucifix while Scanlon confronts her telepathically. 

There are some hair-raising moments including a freight train and a car (recalling Spielberg's own "Duel") that had me holding on to my seat in ways that only Spielberg can manage to. "Disclosure Day" is solidly entertaining and never feels long, always keeping one invested and interested in knowing where the eventual cosmic revelations will lead us to. I felt closer to the strenuous emotions of Margaret and Jane than I ever did to Dr. Kellner, who always seemed a little aloof and uncertain. I like the inclusion of Wyatt Russell as Jackson and he has some good comic lines of bewilderment, though he's unfairly cut out of the film midway through. This is Spielberg's more frenetic approach to his "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" and it has already raised discussions on its religious themes and whether we are getting close to a real-life alien disclosure. Perhaps. Any day now?

Mattel Movie Decides Fun is out of the question

 MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE (1987)

Painfully Endured by Jerry Saravia

Back in the 1980's, I always watched the slight, goofy He-Man cartoons with my younger brother. They were a diverting and virtually painless 30 minutes that my brother thoroughly enjoyed (my 70's equivalent would have been the animated "Super Friends"). It was wonderful to see my brother excited and amped up as a new weekly cartoon episode unraveled featuring the further adventures of He-Man and She-Ra facing the primary antagonist, Skeletor. Fun, diverting, painless. These adjectives would not describe Cannon Group's live-action 1987 adaptation of "Masters of the Universe," which landed with a severely towering thud. A movie like this should be infectious and fun and, alas, it is about as much fun as being forced to eat rotten apples - this movie looks rotten as soon as the "Superman"-like opening credits roll.

Dolph Lundgren is He-Man, who just doesn't fit snugly in the role. He is tall but not nearly as muscular as in the cartoon. Lundgren looks tired and exhausted after running around shooting robots with laser guns and holding a heavy sword at the same time. That must be exhausting! Frank Langella is Skeletor wearing a largely inanimate mask - other than his lothario voice, you would never know it was Langella which means almost anybody could have been handpicked to play the role. I will not describe the plot except that it has to do with a device that lands on Earth (along with a few of our chivalrous heroes) and some musician finds the device and thinks it is some synthesizer! Courteney Cox appears as this musician's girlfriend who lost her parents in a plane crash years back. Cox tries to bring some nugget of emotion and acquits herself, seemingly, but I can't say the same for the rest of the cast.

Purportedly based more so on the He-Man action toys than the popular 1980's TV cartoon, "Masters of the Universe" shows that Cannon productions could mishandle this franchise worse than Superman. The same summer saw "Superman IV: The Quest for Peace" which at least was funny (with worse special-effects). I'll say one thing in He-Man's rather fruitless favor - James Tolkan as an irate, straight-arrow cop brandishing a shotgun and realizing he's out of his league next to these cosmic monsters and He-Man. Charismatic Tolkan (and a DeLorean sound effect liberally borrowed from you know where) are mildly entertaining and have some heft. The rest is disposable junk.

Jedi lovers will doubly be jaded again

 THE MANDALORIAN AND GROGU (2026)

Endured by Jerry Saravia

Perhaps what made "The Mandalorian" work in most of its three seasons on the Disney+ channel was its intimacy. The Mandalorian himself was a bounty hunter modeled on Boba Fett and something of an enigmatic gunslinger in the fine tradition of the good old westerns. Once he finds a Baby Yoda (Grogu, a tiny green creature with wizened ears who can use the Force and has a propensity for eating anything within reach) and rescues him, we all Jaded Jedi lovers developed a love for this unusual buddy-buddy in the world of the vast Star Wars universe. "The Mandalorian and Grogu," a feature film extension following the first 3 seasons loses all intimacy and a sense of adventure or genuine action scenes with purpose. I hate to report that this is the first Star Wars movie in eons, in 12 parsecs maybe, that left me bored.

The movie opens with a council meeting where there are discussions on bringing back the Empire that had long vanquished. Before long, one inquisitive associate is gunned down. Mando arrives (played once again by Pedro Pascal and two other stand-ins) and laser blasts the entire council room of its Stormtrooper guards and successfully knocks down a few AT-AT's with the help of the cute-as-a-button Grogu. It is a snowy landscape a'la Hoth and Mando kills an Imperial warlord whom he was to bring in for questioning to the New Republic. Yeah, Mando bringing in someone for questioning is like asking Grogu not to use the Force. Since that incident got "messy" according to the New Republic's Colonel Ward (Sigourney Weaver), Mando is sent on another mission - to rescue Jabba the Hutt's son, Rotta (voiced by Jeremy Allen White), who is imprisoned and forced to fight gladiator-style battles with various opponents. The idea is to return the son to the Hutt crime clan who, in exchange, will spill the beans on some new members of the Empire and their dastardly plans.

Some of this could have lent itself to more dramatic confrontations and deeper character exploration about everyone's favorite masked bounty hunter. I'd also would have liked to learn more about Grogu. Worse yet is that other than some ugly monster guards that look like rejects from the Cantina Bar and a mysterious bounty hunter villain with a flat-rimmed shield over his head, there is no real villainous presence here. There's Janu Coin (Jonny Coyne), a devious warlord and Rotta's master but he is seen too fleetingly. We get endless rescue attempts and sheer repetition and monotony of action chases and shootouts. The one chase scene thru what looks like a "Blade Runner" city is quite lamely composed and thrown together with no sense of geography. Nothing that appears on screen is exciting, humane or thrilling because the characters are mere window dressing. Only Grogu shows his sweetness and dedication to his adopted father particularly towards the end when mortality looms near. 

There is a mild humorous exchange between Mando and Rotta about fitting in at the New Republic's headquarters but other than that (and Scorsese's wild animated cook character), nothing else will entertain. I never thought the day would come when I would call a "Star Wars" movie generic. Time to explore new worlds.

Quintessential Liminal Space Horror Movie

 BACKROOMS (2026)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Liminal spaces in abandoned, closed-off areas are slowly becoming a subgenre of horror. Early in 2026, I saw the unsettling "Exit 8" which has liminal spaces in the form of endless subway corridors. "Backrooms" might become the quintessential liminal space horror movie, a most unsettling and unnerving movie experience. It is nightmarish, subversive and elliptical particularly as a surrealistic experience that may drive you up the wall. It has driven me up the wall and beyond.

There's a dank-looking furniture store, Cap'n Clark's Ottoman Empire, that is reducing prices though it makes little difference. The parking lot is expansive with this store existing in the middle of it, and no customers ever come by. Chiwetel Ejiofor is the store owner, Clark, and you would think that dressing up as a pirate in commercial promos would help build sales but it doesn't (the store's name could use some revision). Clark is an alcoholic, a failed architect, and he has been forced out of his home by his unseen wife - he now lives in the spacious store. Problems circulate like wildfire with Clark not being able to pay the electrical bills, barely pay his two employees, and he sees an attentive therapist, Mary Klein (Renate Reinsve), who can aid Clark though she may not admit what his real problems are. Electricity malfunctions with lights going on and off at odd times in the store. Eventually, Clark notices something odd in the basement wall and finds he can walk through it to endless backrooms. One has furniture and a TV set in the middle of one room, leading to a dead bird, and more backrooms where chairs are embedded on ceilings and floors. There is also a surveillance camera and a couple of cardboard cutouts of people. What in creation is going on here? Is this another world created by aliens? (Perish that thought). Are these rooms part of other unfinished stores? (Perish that thought as well). Or is this all in Clark's mind, a gradual symptom of his alcoholism? (You can strike and perish that from the record as well). 

"Backrooms" is not just content with Clark's vivid perceptions but also with Mary's perceptions as well. She came from an unhappy childhood home where her agoraphobic mother sealed the windows with newspaper clippings and blocked their entrance door with furniture, afraid they will come for them if they are seen. The home is eventually demolished and, in a metaphorical sense, so is Clark's. These two eventually find themselves in these infinitely creepy backrooms because memories linger, for better or worse, and they become visual representations embedded in their own past. Not to mention that the destruction of a home or even other places long remembered by some also become represented in these backrooms. Maybe, maybe not.

20-year-old Kane Parsons has astonishingly directed "Backrooms," his first feature based on a Youtube web series which I must check out. There are no easy answers in what is the film equivalent of Salvador Dali surrealism crossed with Picasso's Cubist ideas poured in rather thickly. It is a mesh of visions that can startle, fascinate and deliberately question what you see on screen. A staircase leading to a door on a ceiling in the middle of dozens of rooms without partitions is one of the more notable examples of a Daliesque moment. Three characters existing in this vacuum with deformed, fragmented faces (they are Still Lifes that definitely echo Picasso) stand by idly. Silence pervades with echoes of music heard somewhere in the distance while everything is lit with fluorescent bulbs. All this would be striking in its own way yet the inclusion of Ejiofor's anxious Clark and Reinsve's subdued Mary is the icing on the creepypasta cake. Forewarning: if you suffer from anxiety, do not watch this movie. 

Close Encounters with Stephen Sondheim

 WEST SIDE STORY (2021)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Steven Spielberg always wanted to make a musical. The only real example of it in his career was the thrilling opening of "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" with its bright, colorful "Anything Goes" dance number. I am conflicted by his decision to remake "West Side Story," the 1961 version that could use a new spin. After all, it is about the whites vs. the Puerto Ricans in a 1950's slum neighborhood that is about to be demolished. The gang members of this impoverished area include the Jets (with the white kids) and the Sharks (the Puerto Ricans). In the midst of all this hoopla and impending violence, there's the "Romeo and Juliet" love story angle of the Puerto Rican Maria and the white Tony who likes to be called Anton. As in the 1961 version, I still think this mixture of love and gang violence doesn't quite gel but it is nice to see a real master like Spielberg try.

The story follows the original film and the stage musical pretty much beat by beat. Maria lives with her patriarch-like and overprotective brother, Bernardo (David Alvarez), a boxer, and his feisty girlfriend Anita (Ariana DeBose) in one of those tenement apartment buildings with clotheslines stretching from one building to the next. We also get those fire escapes where Tony, having fallen madly in love with Maria at the dance, hangs on to those railings as they both profess their love for each other. I never bought it in the original and the revved up gym scene doesn't really convince me of true love either. I will say that the dynamic, emotionally forceful Rachel Zegler and the charming Ansel Elgort (who rises above blandness by showing his tougher side) are a more charismatic pair than dear Natalie Wood (her most passionless performance) and Richard Beymer who expressed love to Maria with the attitude of a pigeon (sorry to the fans of the original). Still, the whole rumble of both film versions with the tragic denouements carries a charge of volatility. What doesn't function from a narrative point-of-view is Maria's response to her brother being killed - it is like she lost an expensive bracelet and her character gradually grows unsympathetic. She cares more about Tony and I never understood why this glaring character flaw still persists.

If you like the Shakespearean love angle and the electrifying Stephen Sondheim musical numbers of "West Side Story" with its uplifting early musical numbers (my favorite is the rousing, stomp-your-feet-and-celebrate "America" with its defining lyrics about what it means to be an immigrant), then Spielberg's whiz-bang treatment will knock your socks off. Ariana DeBose holds her ground as Anita and Rita Moreno has the new role of the pharmacist's wife who tries to talk her son, Tony, out of having an interracial romance. Moreno sparkles the screen especially when she sings "Somewhere" with great sorrow. This 2021 version will entertain like the original and, despite noticeable improvements and minor changes, there is little to distinguish between the two. I just wish Spielberg opted to make a musical we have not seen countless times before.

Myth, Legend but short on the Man

 MICHAEL (2026)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When you look at the end credits of "Michael," you'll notice a lot of Michael Jackson's family members were the executive producers. It would not be farfetched to think they dictated the content of Michael Jackson's life story in this biopic and the do's and don'ts. Regardless of their aims to present a sanitized, holier-than-thou Michael Jackson, they have not avoided some notable characteristics of the biggest pop music superstar of all time. "Michael" is a bedazzling entertainment, a showstopper of a movie when it comes to Michael Jackson performing his pop hits and that is most of the movie. If you like Michael Jackson's world-renown music, you'll enjoy hearing the Dolby soundtrack upping the ante on the bass line of hits like "Thriller" and "Billie Jean." You might even want to jump up and down the aisle while watching it.

"Michael" begins with the singer ready to storm the stage with his electrifying song, "Bad." Then we shift to young Michael (played by 12-year-old Juliano Valdi) staring outside his window at kids playing on the yard in Gary, Indiana. The stern, no-nonsense patriarch of the family, Joseph Jackson (Colman Domingo, bearing an uncanny resemblance), tells Michael to sing with his brothers and prepare themselves to go on tour. Week after week, Joseph preps them, being their serious manager, and when Michael refuses to practice after already performing on stage, dad whips out his belt and hits Michael. We see a few Jackson 5 numbers performed including my favorite, "ABC," and a Motown rep showing up to see the incredible Mike (of course, the never-satisfied Joseph makes it clear that their singing pitch needs work).

The film swiftly moves to an older Michael, now presumably an adult although you wouldn't know from him still living at the parents' home in a room full of stuffed animals and Peter Pan toys and books. Michael does make one major adult decision - he wants to break free of his father and become a solo act. Joseph won't have it, asking Michael to participate in a reunion of the Jackson 5 on a world tour because "the brand is family." The movie progresses with the firing of Joseph as Michael's manager and the singer releasing the most popular album by a solo artist ever, the resounding success of "Thriller" (which also became a diverting 15-minute short film directed by John Landis). Aside from "Thriller" and other classic cuts such as "Beat It," "Billie Jean" and "Bad," Jaafar Jackson (Michael's actual nephew) astoundingly recreates all the moves and that darn moonwalk with grace - he is a replica of the real thing. His smile is perfect and his life is seemingly perfect except for that fact that he feels he needs a nose job. There is also the brief foray into his vitiligo, a skin condition where he lost pigmentation on parts of his body. Rumors at the time were that Michael was trying to turn white when that wasn't the case at all.

"Michael" does deal with the father-son friction as its main focus, and only slightly with Michael's man-child fascination with childlike things. We witness scenes of Michael turning the Jackson home into a zoo with a giraffe, the chimp Bubbles (seemingly done with CGI), and alpacas (some of this made me laugh, especially seeing Michael walking down the street with an alpaca). But there are fleetingly tender moments where Michael visits sickly children in hospitals, perhaps an attempt to show his more human, compassionate side. 

Directed with some style and panache by Antoine Fuqua and featuring spectacular choreography of Michael's dancing on stage, "Michael"is worthwhile for any fans of the universal superstar. Not unlike other recent musical biopics such as "Bohemian Rhapsody" and "Rocketman," it is bound together by the expected cliches with little to no interest on Michael as someone beyond an iconic superstar. There are micro-hints here of something beyond his iconic energy but not quite what I hoped for. The myth, the legend is always pitch perfect on stage, ready to take on the world and try to make it a better place. In that human spirit of optimism, it would have been fitting to conclude with Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror" than "Bad." We already know he's bad.

Brazilian cries, whispers and pulsating with life

 THE SECRET AGENT (2025)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Best Film of 2025 

(shared with "One Battle After Another")

Nothing makes me smile more than seeing an intricate, involving and entrancing film that takes you on a leisurely ride where its destination is not predetermined. Swiftly moving from past to present with acute timing and precision, "The Secret Agent" is our 2020 answer to a risque political film from the 1970's probing deep questions about truth and the political machinations of an era few have experienced in our lifetime. It is absolutely riveting entertainment.

Our titular secret agent is Armando (an ideally cast Wagner Moura), a university professor who has been labeled a communist. Truth is Armando is not affiliated with communism nor capitalism in the Brazil of the late 1970's. This is Brazil during a time of military dictatorship and he is stopped at a gas station (where a corpse is on the ground covered by cardboard) and questioned and searched by the police. Armando complies and what is a little amazing is how often we see scenes like this in modern-day movies and expect a bout of violence to emerge. There is no violence and the police take off, yet tension rings in the air. Armando is headed to Recife, the capital of the Brazilian state Pernambuco, to see his child who is living with his in-laws. His in-laws love and miss him but they also know it is dangerous for him to be present (his wife Fátima had passed away). Armando stays with some political dissidents in a sort of hidden refugee enclave, and finds a job at an identity card office building where he tries to find information on his late mother. He has adopted an alias, Marcello, so as to not be discovered by others. Meanwhile, two unlikely hit men are hired by a racist and sexist (to say the least) industrialist named Ghirotti (Luciano Chirolli) who had a past blow-out at a restaurant between Armando and his wife Fatima (Alice Carvalho, in a firecracker of a performance that lasts only a few minutes).  

Directed with a virtuoso power by Kleber de Mendonça Vasconcellos Filho, every scene clicks and involves us, from the mundane existence of living in close quarters inside an apartment building, to the identity offices that look and feel banal, to the carnival sequence itself that vibrates with a vivid energy, to the movie theaters showing "The Omen" and "Jaws" where a one couple indulges in fellatio in the crowd, to the busy and crowded street scenes that feel lived in, "The Secret Agent" pulsates with the flavor of life. The film has a burgeoning golden glow throughout, not quite sepia-toned, in its look at a Brazil of carnivals and alluring women, not to mention gays indulging in sexual acts out in the open as one cruises through the city's various parks. 

The performances are sublime including the quiet magnetism of Wagner Moura as Armando; the seen-it-all 77-year old woman, Donna Sebastiana (Tânia Maria); who provides a refugee home, or the captivating belly-laughs and charms of the insidious police chief Euclides (Robério Diógenes). The present day scenes involve a female journalist listening to recorded sessions between Armando and a patient political resistance leader Elza (Maria Fernanda Cândido). What is most stimulating about the film is that it is mostly cries and whispers, as if the world will collapse if anything leaks in this dictatorship because all ears are open. 

What is also special about this film is that it brings back memories for me as a 6-year-old living in Sao Paulo in 1977-78 (the film is set in 1977). The golden glow of the streets seems just right to me (though Sao Paulo was heavily polluted at that time so I can't speak for Recife). I also feel I have seen older spirited women like Sebastiana and I do faintly recall those close quarters in homes where adults would discuss politics. My father even had a beard like Armando has in the opening scenes. So, personal memories aside, "The Secret Agent" deftly works as a passage of time that no longer exists. I would compare it to Costa-Gavras masterful "State of Siege" which dealt with Uruguay's political strife in the 1960's through the 1970's. "The Secret Agent" is a cinematic powerhouse and a real treat.   

GIVE US FREE

 AMISTAD (1997)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Cinque is seen in extreme, sweaty, bloody close-up trying to pry a rusty nail from a rotted wooden floor. He is one of several African slaves who have been violently abused and treated like animals on board a Spanish sailing ship called La Amistad. The nail sets Cinque free from those piercing iron shackles and a revolt takes place against the Spanish crew. Judging from this justifiable insurrection, you'd think that "Amistad" is Cinque's story but it is not, only in a secondary maybe tertiary way. 

The insurrection leads Cinque (Djimon Hounsou) to be hoodwinked into thinking he'll return to Africa - he is redirected to New York with the others. They are to be tried for murder yet nobody in the courtroom can decide who these slaves really belong to and it becomes rather comical when the Spaniards lay claim as well as Navy officers. Ultimately, this whole shebang is proof that they see these slaves as nothing more than commodities, property, cargo, but not human beings. So when a real-estate lawyer gets involved, Roger Baldwin (Matthew McConaughey, who looks like some 1960's hippie professor who smoked one too many blunts), he provides a perceived slam dunk case since the slaves were clearly kidnapped from Africa, not Cuba, and the revolt happened outside the U.S. A couple of abolitionists, Lewis Tappan (Stellan Skarsgard) and his associate Theodore Joadson (Morgan Freeman, standing out more as a symbol than a character), a fictional former slave, find documents and inventory sheets that can prove their case. However, under the cold hands of President Martin Van Buren (Nigel Hawthorne), a new young judge takes over and he decides they should be free. Not so fast when the legal machinations face an appeal and the case has to be retried. Who better to make things right than the sleepy John Quincy Adams (Anthony Hopkins) who can stand before Supreme Court justices and deliver a preachy sermon where he names drops past U.S. Presidents and the Constitution. It is beautifully summarized in that context but it does little to provide justice for these slaves.

"Amistad" has a staggeringly powerful flashback sequence, "the Middle Passage," where we see how these slaves were treated on board that ship, from being thrown overboard in a chain link to some whipped to death and starved, etc. One woman with a child throws herself overboard. This is Cinque's subjective and troubling view of being a simple man driven to rage and murder by ruthless, money-grubbing captors. "Amistad," unfortunately, loses its primary focus on Cinque to the lawyers who are trying to prove they were captured and not born slaves. It leads to one stirring moment - the movie's best scene - where Cinque is in court and repeatedly says, "GIVE US FREE!" The courtroom is awed by this earth-shattering pronouncement and it should've been sufficient cause for seeing Cinque as a wronged man but we do not get enough of Cinque's own individualism. He is an angry slave yet he's also a man who had a family in Africa and was taken away. Seeing it more from his perspective rather than involving the two lawyers and a handy translator makes "Amistad" more of a potent courtroom drama articulating a virtuous issue than a story of a man driven to and from hell. It is a watchable picture but it could have been so much more. Spielberg should've just let Cinque be free to tell his story. 

Ephemerol is needed after watching this haywire movie

 SCANNERS (1980)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When I was about 10, I saw "Scanners" on home video and all I took away from it were the gory special-effects. Hard to forget a head blowing up or enormous veins popping out of someone's face and arms. It was all I could remember. Now, Cronenberg's intellectual horror film is a cautious warning about experimental pharmaceutical drugs and human evolution involving ESP. It may not all make sense but it is Cronenberg at his finest, using shock, scares and an unrelenting sense of gloom over the proceedings. You might still get a migraine after watching it.  

Scanners are special human beings who possess ESP and can telepathically cause someone to have headaches and nosebleeds. Others with evil intent on their minds can blow someone's head apart, including a scanner's head. One opening sequence shows a derelict-of-sorts, Cameron Vale (Stephen Lack), who eats other patrons' leftovers at a mall cafeteria before scanning a woman who gives him disapproving looks. She suddenly goes into convulsions and Cameron turns away, perhaps in disgust at what he has done or unable to know what he has done, and is chased by government agents who shoots tranquilizer darts at him. Next we have am auditorium session with scanners and a demonstration is necessary with a volunteer. Of course, nobody in the audience wishes to participate except for one, a purely evil man named Revok (a perfectly cast Michael Ironside). Yes, this is where the head exploding scene occurs that became the highpoint of the film's trailer.

Cameron is eventually taken to Dr. Ruth (Patrick McGoohan, speaking with a soft, articulate tongue that may drive you bananas), an expert on scanners and on the board of ConSec who owns a pharmaceutical company that the good doctor had initiated. The mysterious doctor hopes Cameron can track down an underground scanner group that includes its supposed leader, Revok. It seems there may be various scanner groups and they can all scan in unison! We find a reclusive artist named Ben Pierce (Robert A. Silverman), a viable lead to this underground movement in a sequence that is both funny and genuinely bizarre. Pierce's laugh sounds sarcastic and fake but then I read that it was meant to evoke Alan Alda!

"Scanners" starts off with potent scenes of violence and Revok being able to scan agents and force them to kill themselves. Once you get past those gory moments, the movie settles down a tad and becomes a frenetic chase picture with a soundtrack that sounds like it was designed by a scanner. Cameron runs along towards the last half of the picture with another scanner, Kim (Jennifer O'Neill), as they try to evade assassins, agents and guards before discovering the truth of ephemerol (a drug meant to tranquilize a scanner's abilities that also might be used to create a new army of newborn scanners). Unbelievably, in what seems like a last-minute plot contrivance, Cameron scans the ConSec computers by using a payphone. Still, despite its often ludicrous nature, Cronenberg plays the film straight and keeps you riveted even if you occasionally laugh at yourself for taking it seriously. I will say there are powerful moments that caused me to have some nausea, a couple of stomach cramps but no nosebleeds. Maybe I was feeling under the weather when I watched it twice again recently. Or maybe Cronenberg just has that effect on his audience. 

I can't stand Americans fighting Americans

 1941 (1979)

Endured by Jerry Saravia

I am all for pure chaos in any movie. Throw in the kitchen sink while you are at it! A wild World War II movie with pure comic chaos is a great idea. Throw in the kitchen sink, a few tanks, a Ferris Wheel, a Japanese sub, out-of-control war planes and general havoc. Steven Spielberg's "1941" is all that but it is not comical - it is just an expensive dumpster fire with unbridled chaos and nothing else. 

The anarchic script by Bob Gale, Robert Zemeckis and John Milius doesn't seem written at all - they must have screamed the lines to each other and expected the actors to deliver in an over-the-top mode by screaming as well. The story takes place in the days following the tragic Pearl Harbor event of December 7th where an Imperial Japanese Navy sub is spotted in the Pacific Ocean. It is commandeered by no less than the titanic presence of Toshiro Mifune! Christopher Lee plays a Nazi officer on board the sub for reasons only clear to the writers of this unfunny mess. Since there are fears of another brazen attack by the Japanese (there is an interest in bombing Hollywood), every American is scared and they run around in a frantic pace. The military is preparing for this but their leader in command, General Stilwell (Robert Stack playing a real-life general), would rather cry at a theatrical showing of "Dumbo." You do have the lone swimmer from the opening of "Jaws" gracing the opening of this movie where she is almost impaled by a...Japanese sub. Darn. Then there is Slim Pickens as Hollis P. Wood, a lumberjack who tries to chop down Christmas trees inhabited by Japanese officers. Yeah, real funny stuff for about a second. 

I enjoyed Ned Beatty as someone defending his home turf with an anti-aircraft arsenal that ends up destroying his own family home. Other than that and the zaniness of John Belushi (in a mostly extended cameo) as Wild Bill Kelso chomping on a cigar and flying through the streets of L.A. causing general mayhem, "1941" is needlessly overlong and overbaked and ultimately a "nothing" movie. A great cast flounders in this movie because they have zilch to do. There are no memorable characters or situations - Spielberg is directing traffic and reaction shots and not much else. I came away bored, not exhausted, and many of the film's racial jokes do not work and will cause mostly eye-rolling looks.The USO dance sequence is fun for a while but it is overextended (you'll forget Treat Williams is in this movie playing a character with an aversion to eggs). This movie is about endless destruction, fist fights and not much else - chaos is not by definition funny. Maybe it is about director Steven Spielberg's attempt to show America at war when it entered World War II. It feels more like Spielberg at war with himself.  

Older Gentleman robber in a new century

 THE GREY FOX (1982)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

A gentlemanly stagecoach robber, who never shot anyone during any hold up, went to jail and was released into a new century in 1901, and is trying to figure out his place in the world. Will it be as an oyster picker while staying with his sister and her disapproving husband? Probably not for long because if robbing people is all you know, then that is all there is. It is the excitement and thrill of being such a thief that encompasses the obstinate Bill Miner, a real-life train robber who became something of a folk hero. "The Grey Fox" is his story and it is one of the more elegant films about old-timers who should settle down; this Mr. Miner will do no such thing.

Richard Farnsworth, a gentlemanly actor in his own right with his trademark thick white mustache (who never cussed in a single film of his), is the old robber Bill Miner who is no codger or eccentric, and certainly not a grumpy man. He is a kind man who had a criminal past and can tell a stranger on a train that he is between jobs or, more accurately, that he used to rob stagecoaches. He doesn't flinch when telling the truth - he has a gleam in his eye and is merely trying to work through a revolutionary time in history. Stagecoaches have been replaced by steam trains and there are some new inventions out there like the motorcar and gizmos for peeling fruit. Horses still dominate small towns and when Bill heads for Canada, it seems the frontier west hasn't completely abandoned him - there are the aforementioned horses, mines, and general stores. There's also the nickelodeon which particularly excites him when he sees the silent film "The Great Train Robbery." Now, more than ever, he knows the rest of his days will involve train robbing. 

What is really wonderful about "The Grey Fox" (directed with complete confidence by Canadian director Philip Borsos) is that the film is as spirited about Miner's exploits as much as Miner is. This is not an elegiac look back at a criminal life nor is it a moralistic fable. It is a relaxed story told with simplicity, a leisurely pace and with a completely believable performance by Farnsworth who really looks he is from that era. Kudos to Jackie Burroughs as a feminist photographer who has an interest in opera and falls for Miner - one of the rare sweet adult relationships that feels completely genuine. Sean Sullivan provides solid support as a newspaper editor who has a certain history with Miner. It is really Farnsworth's movie all the way and he makes it poignant and sweet-natured. Every move, every sentence he utters, every twinkled smile he emits, and his recognition that he might head back to the slammer (but not for long), shows a history of the late 19th century and early 20th encapsulated in one person. An exceptional, exquisite classic.

Riffing on Pretty in Pink

 FRESH HORSES (1988)

Endured by Jerry Saravia

Just when you thought it was safe to see a cheesy romantic drama, or seemingly safe, we get one of those 1980's Ringwald movies post-"Pretty in Pink." Let's be honest: how awful could a film starring Andrew McCarthy, Molly Ringwald and Ben Stiller be? Answer: EXTREMELY. "Fresh Horses" is not unwatchable but it is tonally and visually insufferable. It is also much ado about absolutely nothing. 

Andrew McCarthy is Matt, an engineering Ohio college student who has an interest in roller coasters. I would like to have learned more about it but all we get are a couple of scenes of him in front of a tiny desktop computer. He lives with his parents and is ready to marry his sweetheart (Chiara Peacock). Of course, we only sense this will be a problem because we have seen enough movies to know this guy envisions something other than this pre-planned existence. Ben Stiller is his best friend who takes him to some house in a backwoods area of Kentucky where an older guy plays pool and the woman who owns the house (Patti D'Arbanville) is just an owner, I guess, who likes to have people come around so she's not lonely? One of them is blonde-haired Jewel (Molly Ringwald) who says she is 20 years-old but she might actually be 16 and married to a scuzzbucket (Viggo Mortensen, believe it or not). 

Matt comes back to this house to see Jewel and they have sex. He loves her but you can't tell from McCarthy's minimal facial expressions (you could tell in "Pretty in Pink" in which he was in love with Ringwald). Matt cancels any future with his rich fiancee for a woman living, can we say it, on the wrong side of the tracks (this movie is practically a "Pretty in Pink" remake except it poorly mines Tennessee Williams' territory.) Southern Gothic it is not.

"Fresh Horses" is based on a two-act off-Broadway play by Larry Ketron (who wrote the screenplay), which definitely establishes Jewel as underage. In this movie, nothing is ever clear. She might be 16 but she says she's not, though friends of Jewel's husband suggests otherwise. The Kentucky house almost feels like a brothel and D'Arbanville could be a madam but it is not actually not that kind of house. When an older guy tells Matt he wants to bed Jewel, there is a fight and D'Arbanville is insulted by the mere suggestion. Hmmm, okay. The play was focused on the class system, the rich and the poor, yet all that evaporates in this movie ("Pretty in Pink" actually managed simple, perhaps archaic observations on the class system amidst its teen comedy-drama outline). Mostly we are saddled with Matt kissing those big Ringwald lips, sleeping with her in an abandoned railway station (part of the play's setting), arguing and bickering with Jewel back and forth, back and forth, and one major slap across the face. Not one moment is believable and the soundtrack has jazz saxophone music that so overwhelms every scene and every moment that all I could do was laugh. 

There was an elegance to the opening scenes of "Fresh Horses" with Stiller and McCarthy on a speedboat, and the mini-dissolves inside a house hosting an engagement party. Such elegance gives way to histrionic acting and pointless scenes of tossing marshmallows, White Castle dining and endless bickering all the way through - there are no simple conversations in this movie. I'll say this much for Ringwald's cinematic track record - it is not as mind-numbingly awful as "P.K. and the Kid."  

New recruits needed at Police Squad

 THE NAKED GUN (2025)

Or How I Wished They Dropped This Movie and did something else 

by Jerry Saravia

Heightened comic lunacy and chaos defines "The Naked Gun" movies. Hell, it defines the ZAZ (Zucker, Abraham, Zucker) comedy team who knew how to write endless jokes and visual puns based off of their knowledge of bad cinema, B movies and pop culture. The series was also defined by jokes coming at you left and right, from the foreground and the background. Sure, they were largely stupid jokes but there were also smart, clever ones that you didn't see coming. Whether it was the late Leslie Nielsen as the stupid Lt. Frank Drebin finding himself in an unrecognizable area of L.A. as he is narrating, or doing flips all around his apartment thinking someone broke in, or laughing outside a theater showing "Platoon", or mistaking a security officer for Robert De Niro, you knew that there was a sense of fun to it and you had to be fast to catch every gag. If you have seen the movies, then you know.

My main problem with the new "Naked Gun" is the casting of Liam Neeson as Frank Drebin's son - it doesn't register. Neeson can play it straight but he seems adrift in all this, and not in a justifiable, comically surefire way. He is too tall and imposing a presence. Years ago when this reboot was first floating around for a green light, the name Ed Helms came up and he would've been perfect. I certainly have no issue with Pamela Anderson being cast - she's a natural for this franchise - but she's not given enough to do. Underexposed is putting it politely. Still, I give credit where it's due and the winter log cabin getaway sequence that includes a homicidal Frosty the Snowman whom Anderson decapitates is the best joke in the film. 

Co-written by Dan Gregor, Doug Mand and Akiva Schaffer, this "Naked Gun" reboot has a few other chuckles along the way (the O.J. Simpson photo is hilarious, the "Mission: Impossible" set-up reference inside a studio is pretty damn funny, the endless coffee cups given to the detectives including when Drebin is driving made me smile) but it doesn't have enough fun with it. Some gags and one-liners are recycled from the original but it all lacks juice, a reason for being and there's no rollicking measure of anarchy. The villain played by Danny Huston is not enough of a baddie - he should be sneakily devious, deliciously evil (have we forgotten how good Ricardo Montalban was in the original? Practically a Bond villain type.) Even worse, the pacing and timing is off so that when a joke is supposed to fly, it sort of sits there and we know it has not landed. It should be faster-paced. It is no wonder that few have topped ZAZ's anarchic, spoofy humor in 40 years. Time to find new recruits at Police Squad.

Half a monster movie on the cutting room floor

 BAD MOON (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Bad Moon" opens with severely grisly violence inside a tent where Ted and his girlfriend make love and are attacked by a werewolf. This werewolf tears her apart, killing her almost instantly, and Ted shoots it with a shotgun blowing its head off. This is terrain very far from the days of Henry Hull, Lon Chaney Jr. and it is actually closer in tone to "The Howling." Is "Bad Moon" near the quality of "The Howling" or even "An American Werewolf in London"? Most definitely not. It is a howlingly bad movie but it has undercurrents of potential that are not exploited.

Intense Michael Pare is Ted, more appropriately Uncle Ted, and he is living out of his Silver Bullet camper in the middle of the Pacific Northwest. Quick question: can anyone just live out of a camper anywhere in the woods without paying rent? Never mind. Ted calls his sister, Janet, an allegedly high-profile attorney (Mariel Hemingway), who loves her brother and invites him to stay at her home. Ted has a nephew (Mason Gamble) who loves werewolf movies! There is also a smart, alert German Shepherd named Thor (easily the best performer in the movie) who senses something animalistic in Ted. Ted had been bitten in the opening sequence and transforms into a werewolf whenever a full moon approaches. People are killed and torn apart and the blame goes to, are you ready for it, the German Shepherd. As the town sheriff says to Janet, when a dog has a taste for human blood, all bets are off and it is time to head to the pound.

The issues are tenfold with "Bad Moon." The atmosphere is almost right (though nocturnal scenes in the forest and at Janet's home are too brightly lit) and Pare and Hemingway are game for some character exploration. There's none. Our sympathies are aligned with the family and Ted yet Ted grows increasingly unsympathetic especially towards his main adversary, the dog. It is hard to fathom why Ted becomes somewhat mean - he doesn't quite relish becoming a werewolf and has handcuffs in the hopes of restraining himself. I just found it impossible to be on his side at all - his attitude becomes one of a serial killer. I almost gave up on the film when he waves at the dog who is taken to the pound.

"Bad Moon" is like a test reel of a movie, never fully fleshed out or shaped into anything resembling a movie. The sole werewolf transformation scene starts out well with practical makeup effects and then becomes silly with poor CGI effects. It is a monster movie that feels like half of it ended up on the cutting room floor. 

Perpetual anxiety underground

 EXIT 8 (2025)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Most people carry on their daily routine without thinking much about it. You march forward to your daily job by driving a car or taking the subway. What if you are stuck in a subway station and can't get out? Even worse, what if you keep repeatedly seeing the same path without ever getting to your exit? That is the endless nightmare of "Exit 8," a frequently terrifying film experience that proves to be unnerving and leaves you in a state of perpetual anxiety. 

Kazunari Ninomiya is The Lost Man, a young guy who listens to Ravel's Bolero on his phone while riding the subway, canceling the noise of a crying baby and the sole male passenger who is yelling at the mother holding the baby. After declining a couple of calls from his ex-girlfriend, she hits him with the news that she's pregnant. Our Lost Man has asthma and starts coughing as she asks him what to do. As he is walking through the subway corridor to Exit 8, he loses the phone signal and finds that the corridor is endless as he walks the same section of a corridor with the same wall ads that keep repeating. He sometimes sees an older ponytailed man walk right past him who doesn't acknowledge our confused young asthmatic. Sometimes the older man, known in the credits as the Walking Man (Yamato Kochi), appears and stands with a frozen smile looking at our Lost Man. As the Lost Man continues through the corridors, a set of instructions appear on the wall indicating that if there are any anomalies, he must turn back or he will never make it to Exit 8, the freedom exit from this nightmare.    

I cannot divulge much more about "Exit 8" (adapted from a Japanese video game by co-writer and director Genki Kawamura) because there are devilish surprises along the way. Sometimes the same corridor has unexplained anomalies like an upside down 8 on the exit sign, sometimes the lighting changes and, in one spookier-than-thou moment, the lights go out and slithering creatures can be heard and only barely seen. We also see a bunch of lockers and a photo booth along the same corridor and, in one of the scariest anomalies, a crying baby can be heard inside a locker! "Exit 8" is a sublimely thrilling exercise in terror, accentuated with humanity (a young boy frequently appears that leads to the Lost Man having benign visions of a potential future family enjoying the ocean) and with allusions to Japan's past real-life disasters (when you hear a siren at one point, you'll know immediately what it signifies). There is a fruitful morality to this tale that rises above just the frenetic experiment of pure anxiety. Make no mistake, though - if you already suffer from panic attacks or any deep anxiety, don't watch this powerful movie.  

Drive the fast car, chicks dig the car

 BLACK MOON RISING (1986)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I should be grateful that Tommy Lee Jones' gruff demeanor did not allow him to become one of our major 1980's action heroes. On the other hand, he was the opposite of the testosterone-fueled mechanics of Schwarzenegger and Stallone and closer to the brains of a Bruce Willis-type as in "Die Hard." "Black Moon Rising" is technically more of a Michael Mann wannabe thriller like "Thief" except it is too silly and harebrained to be that. Still, Jones gives this semi-taciturn antihero a chance to be somewhat heroic and it is jolly good fun to see him try.

Tommy Lee Jones is Quint, a thief on the verge of retirement who's hired by the FBI to steal a computer disk containing vital information. Everything that can go wrong does go wrong as Quint faces some corporate minions led by Lee Ving - it is a performance that just screams EVIL with those arched eyebrows and you just know that this guy relishes violence for violence's sake. For some inexplicable reason that maybe co-writer John Carpenter is aware of, Quint is on the run from these guys and places the disk in the rear end of a supersonic car known as the Black Moon that runs at incredible speeds (a car that Buckaroo Banzai might have had a field day with)! This leads to Linda Hamilton as a master car thief working for a stolen car syndicate bigwig played with steely calmness by Robert Vaughn. The syndicate is of interest because it is inside one of two largely unoccupied skyscrapers. How will Quint get the disk when surveillance cameras are at every corner of the buildings? Will Hamilton's character who doesn't trust Vaughn assist Quint? Have you seen any movies before?

"Black Moon Rising" is an often thrilling muscle car movie with a fiery engine and a sheen to it - it is almost noirish in its deep shadows, and in some of its unsettling rooms and empty underground garages (Hamilton's home could use a little more lighting because I was afraid she was going trip over something). Although there were lost opportunities to explore some of the characters beyond cursory motivations, "Black Moon Rising" never stops for long before some high-grade action scene occurs. Quint gets into bloody bare knuckle fights, chases Hamilton who steals the Black Moon car, investigates the skyscraper's geography, climbs a suspended rope between the buildings, and always flashes his wide grin when he needs to. It is an unusual action entertainment that is nowhere near the level of  1981's "Thief" but I'll be damned if I didn't enjoy it.

Dead and Buried plot with a delightful dinner party

 ANOTHER STAKEOUT (1993)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Original review: 1993)

One of the few distinct pleasures of the original "Stakeout" was the finite comic timing and chemistry between Richard Dreyfuss and Emilio Estevez as cops more engaged in tomfoolery rather than gunfire. There were a lot of big laughs in the first film and some seriously violent business as well. "Another Stakeout" doesn't have enough fun with its premise of a stakeout, the Dreyfuss and Estevez chemistry is not fully exploited and the serious violent business of a a Mob witness on the run has been done to death.

Just watching the opening sequence involving an explosion filmed from a gazillion different angles (something directors Tony Scott or Michael Bay might have concocted) is enough to make one switch to another movie theater. Rosie O'Donnell always seemed miscast as a district attorney who is on a stakeout assignment with the two chatty Seattle cops, the white-haired Chris (Dreyfuss) and the mustachioed Bill (Estevez), at a lake house outside Seattle. It is breathtakingly beautiful scenery to be sure where everyone's homes have no curtains or shades (this should make for an easy stakeout). The house next door is where the Mob witness (thanklessly played by Cathy Moriarty) is hiding out. Meanwhile, we get unnecessary scenes of a cat chased by a dog (featuring an impossible point-of-view shot from the cat's anus!) and Miguel Ferrer as the most one-dimensional, generic hitman ever - why not just get any other actor to play the part instead of wasting Ferrer's time.

The dinner sequence involving Moriarty's friends, a handsome couple played by Marcia Strassman and Dennis Farina, is one for the books in terms of hilarious situations built out of bickering and bantering between O'Donnell and Dreyfuss. O'Donnell makes nauseating-looking hors d'oeuvres with penguin-shapes and an armadillo-shaped meatloaf with cereal flakes! Chris is supposed to pose as O'Donnell's husband and Bill is supposed to be their son. This whole sequence could've been built into a fiery comic engine with pratfalls and innuendoes galore. It doesn't last long until we are back to the old-hat, predictable to the core plot. There is also a scene involving Chris and Bill showing their badges to other police firing at them that is right out of "Beverly Hills Cop" and maybe even old episodes of "Car 54, Where Are You?"  

Less than 2/3 of "Another Stakeout" is enjoyable and sharply funny and the rest is mediocre claptrap. For devotees of the original "Stakeout," it is worth perusing. For others, been there one million times, done that two million more. 

The inflated Tube is the message

 VIDEODROME (1983)
A Look Back at one of the strangest, most provocative and original films of the 1980's 

By Jerry Saravia

"Videodrome" could be summed up as a series of nihilistic, paranoid hallucinations from a nihilistic, paranoid individual. Or it could be summed up as an actual reality that the paranoid individual can't shake. Director David Cronenberg might have created the original "Matrix," as mentioned by lead star James Woods, where real life and an alternate reality coexist or merge or neither. My sense is that this is a hallucination that has consumed the protagonist's life and he can't assume one reality or the other. 

The title refers to a Malaysian cable signal of an anonymous woman being tortured in a room by masked sadists. Max Renn (James Woods) is a hyperactive, anxious and determined CEO of a Toronto cable station, CIVIC-TV, who wants to broadcast something more than tacky softcore porn with phalluses. Videodrome has potential and Max's trusty engineer of CIVIC-TV's unauthorized satellite dish, Harlan (Tom Dvorsky), says that the grainy signal only lasts less than a minute. Max eventually finds out that Videodrome is about "philosophy" and quite dangerous. This leads to a strange affair with a talk radio personality, Nicki Brand (Debbie Harry), where she likes being scratched on her shoulders with sharp instruments and has no objection to getting her ears pierced by Max. This, coupled with watching Videodrome on his TV, leads to orgasmic pleasures. 

Max's addictive viewing of Videodrome leads to its own hallucinatory experiences such as a living, breathing television set with a cathode ray tube that expands. A major moment of unexpected violence is when Max slaps his secretary (Julie Khaner) in the face and then apologizes (we see a split second image of him slapping Nicki). The secretary says he didn't slap her in the face. So is Max hallucinating all the time or is he actually in the torturous world of Videodrome? Things only get more out-of-control when Max wears am enormous video headset that looks like it could take his head off. Then we get the moment that will make you protect your own belly when Max develops a uterine-like slit where videocassettes and guns can be pulled or pushed into! Back in 1983, I had to avert my eyes while watching that repeated moment and I still had to when I recently rewatched it.

"Videodrome" shows sex, pornography and hideous, atrocious acts as a unified whole - there is no separation of sex and violence here. Violence is connected through the physical body and mind and often demonstrates said actions on a TV screen. Spilled guts emerge from exploding televisions and when someone is killed, they either explode or have their guts and intestines emerge in truly nauseating ways. When you have a gun emerging as skin and muscle tissue from the TV's tube itself, you can see how we have all taken violence on that damn tube for granted for far too long. That and living breathing, pulsating VHS/Betamax tapes. Cronenberg suggests there is no escape from this technological monster except through death. "Videodrome" is entertaining and deliberately off-putting. For some, this may be the best of both worlds and for others, it may be too much to, um, stomach.

Stagecoach of the future

 NEON CITY (1991)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Dirty, messy, unfocused "Mad Max" rip-off are the first words that occurred to me while watching "Neon City." I still gave it a shot, even when we learn that some woman in a desolate, wintry landscape sells dog meat (yuck!) in some wooden shack. When you have a cast that includes the lovely Vanity, the tough-as-rusty-nails Michael Ironside and the late NFL defense lineman for the Cleveland Browns, Lyle Alzado, I wanted to be on board. After a practically worthless opening, the movie picks up a little speed and I sorta, kinda enjoyed it. 

It is the year 2053 and the world's climate has deteriorated due to the ozone layer thinning out completely. A scientist had screwed up with some scientific experiment and so a mutated group known as the Skins have become marauders who have seen "The Road Warrior" one too many times. A rough, no-holds-barred bounty hunter named Stark (convincingly played by Michael Ironside with a ponytail) has a prisoner with a red star tattoo in tow named Reno (Vanity) who torched her parents. He will turn her in and get his "credits" but unfortunately, he has take her to the safe haven of Neon City! This means getting on board a mobile transport with a motley crew of characters. They include a murderous doctor; a comedian who performs magic tricks; the aforementioned scientist who is trying to keep a low profile; Stark's ex who is getting married in Neon City and a socialite of sorts (Juliet Landau) who has presumably never been outside Neon City...except she has since she is in this vast wasteland. A few stops along the way to a bar/restaurant, a clinic littered with corpses, and deadly climate obstructions (Xander Clouds and Brights) eventually lead to that city!   

"Neon City" has a grungy, low-tech, micro-budget feel that is completely appropriate to this oft-old tale but it is nothing special or particularly memorable. You'll come away wishing there was more intimacy between Vanity and Michael Ironside (a most unlikely pair who have sex in a series of Hallmark dissolves) and some measure of camaraderie between all the other characters. It has been described as a futuristic variation on "Stagecoach" and, though it is not close to the same cinematic level, you will not feel like you wasted your time.