He NAILED IT!

SICK: THE LIFE AND DEATH OF BOB FLANAGAN, SUPERMASOCHIST (1997)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

"Sick: The Life and Death of Bob Flanagan, Supermasochist" is the most disturbing, nauseating documentary ever made about a man who I am grateful to have never met in person. This film is probably the closest you'll ever want to get to such a freak with a predilection for pain; a man with a debilitatingly painful disease who needs more pain to endure his own.

Bob Flanagan is indeed a supermasochist. From an early age, he was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, a disease that causes the lungs to fill with phlegm and mucus. Most people who are diagnosed with such a disease die at an early age, some reach the age of twenty-four. Bob lived to be forty-three, the longest-known survivor of cystic fibrosis. His way of enduring such a disease was to punish his own body - to show God that he can do worse things to himself than the disease He had wrought upon him! Bob becomes a member of an S & M club where he chooses different torturous techniques such as stitches, nails, steel balls, and the list goes on. There's a truly unwatchable moment where he nails his penis to a wooden board!

The main impetus of the film is Bob's own masochistic relationship with his girlfriend of fifteen years, Sheree Rose, a dominatrix. He agrees to be her slave, and she takes full advantage of his submissive behavior. Whenever he wanted to have sex, he would have to write about in his journal, at Sheree's insistence, or there would be no sex. Bob Flanagan is a noted performance artist and writer, and his masochistic rituals through video installations have become well known in most art communities. In essence, his body has become a decorative sculpture for others to look at, e.g., "Bob and Sheree's Contract" where Sheree carves an S into Bob' chest. Bob even inspires a teenage girl from the Make-a-Wish Foundation, also diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, to meet him and...start some piercing. Sheree privately admits to Bob that maybe the girl's supposed fantasies should be fulfilled.

"Sick" won Best Documentary at the 1997 Sundance Film Festival, and it is the most honest documentary I've ever seen. The irony is that its uncompromising honesty is its main fault: we never get to know Bob as well as we should. Here's a man who says that the masochism and body modification were a way of containing the disease, but he never truly explains how. Why is the agonizing pain of masochism (he deeply feels it in many scenes pleading Sheree to stop) a method of relieving his own pain? And how does any of this constitute as art, or his need to be viewed as an "art object"? The film's best, most powerful scene is when a bloated Bob is nearing the end of his disease, and Sheree wonders why he will not submit to her. This scene, however, says more about their dependent relationship than anything about Bob's personal nature.

"Sick" is certainly fascinating and involving, but it never truly reveals anything about Bob Flanagan, or offer any insights into his behavior. Instead, we get a major dose of "shockarama," and some slight tidbits on Bob's family and his needy relationship with Sheree, but not much else. "Sick" is occasionally haunting, elegiac and lurid, but it says nothing more about this supermasochist other than that he is sick.

The Lovable Ape climbs WTC

KING KONG (1976)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

  1933's "King Kong" contains some bad acting, cruddy dialogue and shapeless characters. But what it does right is contain a level of adventure and sense of escapism, and it has the cinema's favorite giant ape beautifully animated as a puppet by the amazing Willis O'Brien. The love story, or was there one really in hindsight, between the ape and the blonde American girl is nonexistent and the movie is slightly confused about whether we should root for the ape or hope the beast is killed. 1976's lavish, equally silly and slightly campy version of "King Kong" doesn't make that mistake - we side with and root for the ape because he cares for the girl. Although it is clear the silverback gorilla didn't want to hurt the girl in the 1930's, it is abundantly clear that he loves her in this version, and it is much clearer in the 2005 Peter Jackson remake that followed.

There is not much plot in this film - it is a serviceable, connect-the-dots storyline. The giant ape is somewhere on Skull Island. A crew is assembled by an aspiring megalomaniac and greedy Petrox Oil executive (Charles Grodin) who is interested in finding oil and is certain that it exists in this island off the Indian Ocean, until an anthropologist (Jeff Bridges) is more interested in the rumored prehistoric creature on that island. There is also Dwan (Jessica Lange), an actress who is brought aboard after being found in a raft unconscious. Eventually, we are in Skull Island which is full of stereotypical natives who desire the blonde woman - she can be used as bait for Kong. Kong (Rick Baker, dressed as an ape) appears, takes the screaming girl, fights pythons (though disappointingly few others prehistoric creatures) and is gassed and transported back to New York City to use as a sideshow attraction. You know the rest.

Kong is the most impressive facet of this movie and gives the best performance. Baker does a stunning job of making Kong real and is able to facilitate a wide array of expressions - when he snarls and pounds his chest, we are awed. Though this is essentially a man dressed in a gorilla suit, one does miss the herky-jerkiness of those antiquated special-effects that made Kong tactile back in the day. Today, or even in 1976, audiences wanted reality and CGI post-"Jurassic Park" makes that reality real. CGI was not around in 1976 and just as well - Kong is a convincingly vivid, living breathing creature and that is good enough for me (Jackson's creation is twice the marvel to witness and possibly the most realistic depiction of a giant gorilla in film history).

"King Kong" also boasts a memorable music score by John Barry, fine special-effects and the ending is far more tragic than the original. Unfortunately, sandwiched in between all the good stuff are the characters and they do not bear as much scrutiny or personality. Grodin is a one-dimensional businessman who turns into a one-dimensional villain. Jeff Bridges barely exists as nothing more than an occasionally irate puppy dog (his long hair and beard cover up all his best features). Jessica Lange is a good screamer and cries on cue but her character is nothing much to work with (she clearly went on to better things).

"King Kong" has some elements that improve on the original (the ape's emoting, the love story) and does nothing to improve the original's slimly developed characters. I like this version overall (I had seen it in theaters back in the day) but, deep down, I feel for the original O'Brien Kong.

Joaquin Phoenix's froggy brains

I'M STILL HERE (2010)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Joaquin Phoenix is still around. Thankfully, his hip-hop music career is not. The joke is clear from the first minute Phoenix is seen walking around in a hoodie outside of his home, contemplating his existence as an actor who has to commit to other people's visions, and not his own. Say what? That is where the joke begins because if he really believed that, he would not attend a Paul Newman tribute where he performs in some vignettes with other fellow actors. It is at this event where Phoenix tells a reporter that he is retiring from acting. The fact that Joaquin doesn't consult his agent or publicist before making such a dreadful mistake will remind some of Johnny Carson's swift, abrupt announcement about his retirement from "The Tonight Show."

"I'm Still Here" is a pathetic, lumbering, creepily funny film - I was in on the joke from the beginning. The beauty of the film is that it does, to a certain extent, take itself seriously enough to actually believe that Joaquin is going through a mental breakdown. He grows a beard, sports an unkempt appearance with barely washed hair, and decides to forge a hip-hop career as a singer with the supposed blessing and studio time from P. Diddy. Ugh! The lyrics are actually not a waste of time (especially when he comments on his personal assistant and long-time friend betraying him by revealing that Joaquin's new phase is a hoax) but, as a singer, he is horrible and has no rhythm. The assumption of the film is that it is Joaquin and he can do what he wants.

This mockumentary directed by Casey Affleck (Joaquin's brother-in-law; Casey is married to Summer Phoenix) is suffocating when it hovers over Joaquin's coke-sniffing, chain-smoking, foul-mouthed, sex-starved escapades (Are these scenes all made up or another joke on celebrities going thru extreme behaviors and addictions?) The film shines when Joaquin tries to convince others that his music is vital, which of course it is not. And most beguiling and darkly funny is when Joaquin sings one of his songs at a show in Vegas while being berated by someone in the audience. Joaquin reacts, jumps off stage and throws a few punches. There is something unsettling and powerfully comical about his appearance on David Letterman's show (one of Letterman's writers claimed that the late-night host was in on the hoax). I also loved the last, long take sequence where Joaquin treads through a river, as if trying to find some solace. Or is this a new Joaquin who dunks his head in the water and may later re-emerge in a new incarnation?

"I'm Still Here" is highly uneven and poorly made (perhaps purposely so) but it is edited as a near-hallucinatory take on a man who is only pretending to be suffering a crisis of conscience. Maybe he thinks this experiment into faux humiliation is art. It isn't (it has been done to death) but it is fascinating watching him try.

Albert Brooks has not lost his edge

THE MUSE (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
(Original review from 1999)

The cinema of the 1990's will be remembered for two things: Quentin Tarantino's revolutionary "Pulp Fiction" and its slew of rip-offs, and the spate of films about filmmaking. It is no surprise that since "The Player," we have become bombarded by several films about making films in many different avenues. We have seen low-budget independent filmmakers ("Living in Oblivion"), filmmaking-on-the-fringes ("My Life's In Turnaround"), bad low-budget filmmakers ("Ed Wood"), porno filmmaking ("Boogie Nights"), Hollywood filmmaking ("The Player"), mob-financed filmmaking ("Get Shorty"), low-level Hollywood filmmaking ("Bowfinger"), and so on. I greeted Albert Brooks' latest film "The Muse" with delight because of its stellar cast and because of the cynical edge of Brooks. I am happy to report that "The Muse" is among his funniest, lightest works, always tinging with delectable wit from start to finish.

Albert Brooks stars as Steven Philips, a comedy screenwriter desperate to sell his latest script after winning a humanitarian award ("It's an award you win when you don't win an Oscar."). The next day, he is anxious and meets with a stiff, humorless studio exceutive, Josh Martin (Mark Feuerstein), and is told none too subtly he's out of a job. "You've lost your edge. Take a vacation," says Martin. Steven is torn since writing for films is his life, and realizes his office will be occupied by Brian De Palma. He tries to get an idea that could reestablish him in the realm of Hollywood, as well as a steady income to help support his wife (Andie McDowell), an ambitious baker, and his two kids.

Steven finds a surprise in the form of a woman in glittery blue dresses named Sara (Sharon Stone) - she is introduced by Steve's friend Jack (Jeff Bridges), a writer. Sarah turns out be the resident Muse of La-La Land - "I...inspire!" declares Sara. Steven is faced with a barrage of responsibilities to keep Sara as his Muse. He has to rent a luxurious room at the Four Seasons Hotel for her, provide round-the-clock food and car service for her immediate needs such as a "Waldorf salad," and he must always bring a boxed trinket from Tiffany's to her. And this is all for her to provide inspiration for the struggling writer. I question a comedy writer coming up with a half-baked idea like an aquarium run by Jim Carrey, but that is of little consequence.

"The Muse" coasts along Brooks's typically cynical, neurotic edge, Sharon Stone's comic sparkle, and the relentless number of inside jokes that will tickle people from Hollywood and movie trivia buffs. There are humorous cameos by film luminaries such as James Cameron, Rob Reiner, Martin Scorsese, Jennifer Tilly, Cybill Sheperd, Lorenzo Lamas, and several others. I enjoyed Scorsese's frenetic moment when he announces he's making a remake of "Raging Bull" with a thin, angry guy. Jennifer Tilly's bit is especially cute when Brooks refers to her as a "doll like Chucky." Tilly was of course in "Bride of Chucky."

The biggest, most sensational surprise is Sharon Stone, who I always believed had a gift for comedy but was never allowed to utilize it. Outside of her small comic parts in "He Said, She Said" and "Diary of a Hitman," this marks the first time that she is allowed to sparkle in a bigger supporting role based on her ability to deliver a bouncy charm. She sports a hairdo with bobbypins, wears long blue "New Wave"-style flowing dresses, and makes do like a spoiled brat who needs to be pampered. Of course, this Muse is not all she's cracked up to be.

Brooks has great fun lampooning Hollywood and its obsessive nature towards making big bucks on big ideas. The difference is that in an era where gross humor of the "Austin Powers" variety reigns supreme, audiences are not likely to be susceptible to Brooks's low-key charm and natural evolution of character progression, or in this case, aggression. He takes his time, and still has not learned how to end a film with a major bang. Here it ends all too abruptly, as it did in "Real Life," Brooks's first film. But that is a minor carp.

I am still not clear of Brooks's point - a muse inspires a writer to choose the muse within him or herself? Can't he seek that same inspiration from his close friends or family? Unless we are led to believe that writers don't have friends in Hollywood when they are considered washed-up and edgeless.

Despite a few flaws, "The Muse" is amusing and has some showstopping laughs and one-liners along the way. Brooks is a master builder of comic setup and payoff - he knows that the art of comedy is allowing the audience to experience the buildup before the punchline, and boy, the punchlines are smartly written and pungent. Too many comedies rely on gross humor and repetitive gags left and right with no rhyme or reason. Not Brooks, and he has not lost his edge.

Monstropolis is only a closet doorknob away

MONSTERS, INC. (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Original review from 2001

I used to love animated films. "Fantasia" is still my favorite, mostly because of the psychedelic combination of classical music and images. Since then, I have not seen anything nearly as good. "Beauty and the Beast" and the "Toy Story" films come to mind, not to mention the vastly underrated "The Iron Giant." Lesser entries would include "Pocahontas" and "Aladdin" (lesser meaning not bad, just that they could have been better). "Monsters, Inc." is from Pixar Productions, the same folks who put out "Toy Story," and I can safely say it is as entertaining and colorful as I had imagined it.

The movie has the postmodernist feel that monsters that scare kids from inside closets are actually from a unique world known as Monstropolis. It is basically a factory line warehouse where closet doors from all around Earth are used by monsters where they have access to the kids's bedrooms and are prepared to frighten kids out of their minds. The aim is to make the kids scream, and the louder the scream, the more bonus points that a monster gets. The screams of children are used to keep Monstropolis alive, though lately these monsters have been slipping. Some scare more than others, including James P. Sullivan (voiced by John Goodman), a likable, blue-furried monster with the loudest roar. His pal is a one-eyed, green monster named Mike Wazowski (voiced by Billy Crystal), who mostly supervises Sullivan. One night, Sullivan happens upon a door where a human girl escapes from. He is scared but grows enamored of the giggling girl he names "Boo." Nice touch.

Unfortunately, human kids are a danger to monster society, and a decontamination team is always deployed to get rid of the kids or any of the kid's belongings like socks that could slip out and attach themselves to monsters. Sullivan and Wazowski try to hide the child from their peers, especially an evil, slithering creature named Randall Boggs (voiced by Steve Buscemi) who makes expert use of his camouflage abilities. Randall is jealous of Sullivan, who always scores highest on the monster scream-o-meter, and concocts a plot to kidnap the little girl.

It is questionable how this factory even exists in the first place, and where do those doors come from really? Where is Monstropolis in relation to Earth itself and how did the monsters acquire these doors? But those are logical questions that have no place in a film designed squarely to please the kids, complete with in-jokes and humorous asides to please the adults. And how is the animation? As superb as one can imagine and as detailed as anything I have ever seen before. But like the flat "Dinosaur" from a year ago, the movie lags a bit and lacks the creative sense of magic and fun of "Toy Story." It is not as playful as it should be, perhaps a bit too contained for its own good and doesn't have much narrative thrust - it depends more on witticisms and eye-popping special effects than any real plot.

In terms of animation, I wanted the film to break free of characters standing in rooms or hallways. Animation often works best when it is roaming free of space and time. Only at the very end do we get that sense of playfulness when Sullivan and Wazowski try to rescue the child while hanging onto the closet doors, which are all connected to steel beams.

"Monsters, Inc." is delightful for three-quarters of the way through of its 98-minute running time. It is fun, funny, fast-paced for the most part, and charming. Before the film started, they showed a preview of a Peter Pan sequel featuring the old Disney animated style that was always wondrous and magical to me. I suppose I just miss the old style.

1-800-I-Need-a-New-Satellite-Dish

TERRORVISION (1986)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

I love wacky horror parodies that pull no punches and carry an unbridled spirit. "Terrorvision" is a cute little cartoonish horror parody that does just that, but falls so short of exploiting a neat premise.

An ugly looking monster from outer space metamorphosizes into an electrical signal that beams its way into Stanley Putterman's cheap satellite dish. Stanley (Gerrit Graham) loves his new satellite dish that captures TV signals from around the world. His wife, Raquel (Mary Woronov, who was the memorable Miss Togar from "Rock 'n Roll High School") is annoyed when there is interference in the signal while she does her workout. Her daughter with pouffed-up candy-colored hair (Diane Franklin) is doubly annoyed when her MTV is interrupted. While Stanley and Raquel go out to find a couple to swing with, their youngest son (Chad Allen) and his crotchety, survivalist-obsessed grandfather (Bert Remsen) watch monster movies, which the eldest believes prepares people for invasion of any kind. Naturally the alien beast is lurking in their satellite dish.

What we get is a slimy alien with oozing fluids and a protruding wandering eye (looks like the same eye from "Star Wars"); a steamy swimming pool; grandpa's secret bunker, and a hilarious Jonathan Gries ("Real Genius") as O.D., the heavy metal rocker who clearly anticipates the future Bill and Ted. Most of the actors and plot elements already had me at a definite hello. Unfortunately, there is not much ingenuity or any real laughs to be found. The film runs out of gas, marking time when it focuses on the kids trying to make friends with the alien and give it junk food to consume. Grandpa exits far too soon from the picture and most of the life is drained away by terminally cumbersome characters like Medusa (Jennifer Richards), the horror hostess. The Stanley and Raquel characters are also entertaining (and it is not often that you find a swinging married couple in a movie) but their appearances are far too brief.

"Terrorvision" begins with a solid cartoonish bang (complete with wacky special-effects and obvious planet models that lend the film some charm) and it has a clever premise, but it never expands the personalities of its characters nor does it have much fun with them. Change the channel or, better yet, get a better satellite dish.   

Non-Fact-Checker, propagandistic=Michael Moore

FAHRENHYPE 9/11 (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

After all the hoopla over Michael Moore's biased, propagandistic documentary, "Fahrenheit 9/11," the detractors came out to attack him, but not in full force. The worst claim Moore made in his film was that Iraq was never a threat to America (the Gulf War is a good example of such an erroneous claim). There was also the glaring omission that a certain pipeline was shut down in Afghanistan in 1998, though the U.S. and the Arabs were making oil profits from it. There is also the darling newspaper clipping that supposedly had a headline that read: "Al Gore won in Florida" (it was actually a letter to the editor). Unfortunately, the criticisms were mild compared to the fueling outrage that a Flint, Michigan man wearing a baseball cap had no business making documentaries in the first place (or maybe it was that Oscar acceptance speech that really riled everybody up). One of the most astute attacks came from writer Christopher Hitchens on the canceled show "Crossfire" - he called Moore nothing worse than a liar and someone who likes to stir the pot of the masses without doing any fact-checking. It is a segment like that should have ended up in this film but "Fahrenhype 9/11" lacks any major charge, and leaves no sting at all.

Most of "Fahrenhype 9/11" focuses on Michael Moore's claims and tries to debunk a few of them, though a substantial portion focuses on the war on terrorism post-9/11. Using interview footage of former New York mayor Ed Koch, actor Ron Silver ("What? He's Republican!") serving as narrator, and the witty repartee of Ann Coulter hardly persuade us of Moore's erroneous filmmaking habits. They expunge all outrage at the filmmaker, focusing on minor details that wouldn't bother a nine-year-old (although Moore's comment that terrorism is not problematic in America, as we are led to believe, brings out much needed fuel for the right-wingers).

There are choice moments involving a Marine, Sgt. Peter Damon, who felt his comments on the war in Moore's film were taken out of context; the Oregon state trooper who's dismayed he even appeared in a Michael Moore film; the school principal who felt that Bush acted "presidential" after sitting with the kids for seven minutes in the classroom, despite learning that America was under attack; and there are the Marines who feel that the fight for freedom in Iraq gives Moore justification to be critical. More footage of these concrete interviews would have helped the filmmakers' cause in debunking Michael Moore and his box-office documentary hit. A definition on what they think a documentary should be would've been beneficial. Hearing Ron Silver call the greatest propaganda film of all time, "Triumph of the Will," a masterpiece in comparison to Moore's film, which doesn't try to approximate the same level of propaganda, is to forget what the purpose of one film had over the other. Leni Riefenstahl's "Triumph of the Will" was designed as a promotional Nazi party film, and it was too damn good. Some saw it as a brilliant film that helped a cause that resulted in the worst genocide of the 20th century. "Fahrenheit 9/11" was designed to unseat the President, pure and simple, and it failed.

And that is what director Alan Peterson and writer Dick Morris never acknowledge - Moore hates Bush and his policies and wanted to be sure Dubya wouldn't be re-elected - a propagandist often embellishes the truth to attain a grand political goal. Heck, isn't that why "Fahrenheit 9/11" did well at the box-office? Didn't the majority of the country feel they were lied to by our current administration? And didn't Bush and his cronies embellish the truth about the war? Moore tapped into the national consciousness, for better or worse. Wishful thinking, I suppose. The most outrageous charges these talking heads evoke are that Bush sat in his chair for five minutes, not seven, and that former Presidents Clinton and Carter did little to counterattack terrorism - they were buddies with the Arabs just like Bush Jr. and Sr. are. Oh, and don't forget: 860 billion dollars is not the equivalent of 7-8 percent of our economy. If "Fahrenhype 9/11" is the best case for defending the Republicans, President Bush and the ongoing war, then Michael Moore is not likely to go away.