I am nobody's old man

BULLET TO THE HEAD (2012)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Like fine vintage wine, Sylvester Stallone has aged and has added a few nuances to his abilities - he has also become a better actor. His gravelly voice and his amazing physique complement his world weariness - a man who has seen and heard it all. Except Stallone, pushing past his mid-60's, is not weaker nor weak-minded - he is just as physically imposing as he ever was. He has also developed a wicked edge, something which none of his past roles ever elucidated. Stallone is not just the best thing in "Bullet to Head" - he is the movie.

Stallone is an impulsive hit man and long-term criminal named Jimmy Bobo who loses his partner in crime to a vicious stabbing by another vicious killer (Jason Momoa, from the unfortunate "Conan the Barbarian" remake). Jimmy is now in hot water, especially after he and his partner killed a corrupt cop who was working for the devious businessman Robert Morel (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje). Morel is handicapped, walking around with two canes, and he is plotting to demolish some low-income housing development and build condos instead (considering this violent tale takes place in New Orleans, I am sure there is an element of truth there).  An investigation is spearheaded by a Washington, D.C. detective, Taylor Kwan (Sung Hang), into the death of that corrupt cop whom he deduces that Bobo had a hand in. Guess what happens next? Bobo becomes an unlikely partner to Kwan and they both become embroiled in digging deeper into Morel's network of corrupt cops, masked balls, bathhouses and, lastly, an abandoned factory.

Director Walter Hill ("48 HRS.," "The Warriors") does an expert job of making the action fast and furious for its near-90-minute running time. I could have lived without the shots of solarized freeze-frames that interrupt the flow and rhythm of Hill's jazzy nighttime city streets (most of the film takes place at night) and his exemplary use of blues and bayou music riffs - the latter add to the atmosphere and overall mood but solarized images in frequent bursts diminish the impact.

I have lost interest in Christian Slater, an actor who back in the "Heathers" heyday seemed to be headed in the direction that Jack Nicholson went. Here, he plays Morel's lawyer and it doesn't give Slater much to do except play a one-dimensional weasel. Also lacking much charisma is Sung Hang, far too inanimate to be Stallone's partner. Faring much better is Adewale Akinnuoye-Agjabe as the always smiling villain whose toxic charms get under your skin. And despite a small role, Sarah Sashi as Bobo's daughter, a tattoo artist, gives the film a little lift as well - she has intoxicating charms that can only lead to better roles.

"Bullet to the Head" is nothing new in the action film world (though I can't recall the last time that a cop and a hit man were paired in the buddy-buddy genre) yet Stallone and director Hill make it far more tolerable than the cartoonish whiz-bang explosions of "The Expendables." The movie is sleek, crisp, lean and doesn't waste time. And Stallone proves that, in remarkable close-ups, he is nobody's old man even when wielding an axe.

A female 'Big'

13 GOING ON 30 (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally viewed in May, 2004)

Jennifer Garner has an electric presence (rather fitting that she is in pre-production for "Elektra"). She simply dazzles on screen with her wide grin and a killer curvaceous body. She also has ample charm and a dynamic physicality that makes you want to join her up in the screen. The press is already saying she is the next Julia Roberts and they are right.

"13 Going on 30" is Garner's first major leading role as Jenna Rink, a 30-year-old fashion magazine editor in New York City. However, she doesn't feel 30 at all - when she was 13, she made a wish to be 30 (all it took was some sprinkling wishing dust). And presto, she is 30! She has bigger breasts, no braces, a handsome boyfriend (some hockey player), a bitchy co-worker (Judy Greer), a fast-talking, goateed boss (Andy Serkis), a nice apartment, an autograph by Madonna, and a limo service to go to any party. She seems to have it all until she realizes she had sold ideas to a rival magazine, had ignored her parents and, even worse, ignored her best friend Matt since high school. The grown-up Matt (Mark Ruffalo) is a photographer who is confused by Jenna's need to be friends with him again. Meanwhile, Jenna shows she is caring and can dance a storm, especially to Michael Jackson's "Thriller."

"13 Going on 30" is sort of the female version of Tom Hanks' "Big," but the difference is she switches bodies in her mind (unless that wishing dust can really work miracles. It is never made clear). The humor quotient is derived from the adult Jenna's lack of memory of what happened to her since she was 13. But what makes the movie irresistible is Garner's convincing notion of a 13-year-old girl inside a 30-year-old body. She plays it to the hilt, calling grown men "gross," getting a group of 13-year-olds together to talk about love, confused by the ringing of cell phones, responding with a chuckle to being called a bitch and having to repeat it, looking away with disgust at hairy bare-chested men, and so on. Garner is so damn convincing that she makes the movie worthwhile since she occupies almost every single scene.

But there are screenwriting fallacies that may make you wince (you'll remember them after you are finished laughing). For one, doesn't anyone in the entire movie ever realize she acts and talks like a 13-year-old girl? Not even her parents. Not one at the office especially. And what seems like a cringe-inducing sequence where Jenna delivers the new look for the magazine (something to do with photo collages) is not given the proper payoff. Or let me just say that the editor-in-chief should've known better than to react the way he does.

The star of the movie is clearly Jennifer Garner and, flaws aside, she makes the movie her own. She also has a nice rapport with Mark Ruffalo in what may be his most sincere performance yet. "13 Going on 30" will make you laugh and for audiences nowadays, that may be enough.

Dashing, virile, cowardly Prince of Denmark

HAMLET (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(originally viewed in 65mm format in 1996)

Leaving aside Orson Welles, nobody else has tackled Shakespeare in all its guts and glory, and in the beauty of the language. Kenneth Branagh's full-throttled, four-hour version of Hamlet is the exception, and a model for others to follow. Too often "Hamlet's" text is truncated, eschewing some of the relationships and complex themes for simple emotions. Mel Gibson looks like a wimp in the 1990 film version by Franco Zeffirelli; this new "Hamlet" will leave you cheering and weeping with delight at Kenneth Branagh's bravura performance.

Branagh ("Henry V") stars as the virile Prince Hamlet who is torn by the unexpectedly quick marriage of his mother, Gertrude (Julie Christie), to the callous, manipulative Claudius (a scene-stealing Derek Jacobi), who is stealing the throne of Denmark. What gets Hamlet to the boiling point of madness and despair is that he is told by his associates that Claudius murdered Hamlet's father - this is told in an eerie sequence by the ghost of Hamlet's father (Bard veteran Brian Blessed). When Hamlet becomes aware of this, he turns anxious, jealous, manipulative, depressed, vengeful, and...yes, murderous. He also has a lost love whom he pines for, Ophelia (Kate Winslet), but he can never bring himself to admit his love to her, or do anything about his father's death - he's a coward in denial. His cowardice becomes more evident when he's continually walking through his palace becoming overbearing and obviously theatrical - this Hamlet thinks nothing of insulting everyone, including staging a play for Claudius where a prince's father is killed alarmingly the same way as Claudius had killed Hamlet's father! Hamlet gradually becomes more overbearing, and even cheerful, devilish. It is no wonder that Ophelia is understandably confused by Hamlet's behavior, she becomes crazy herself.

Kenneth Branagh is the perfect actor to play the bleached blonde, virile Hamlet - he successfully brings all the character's emotions to life in a performance I will never forget. It is outstanding how he makes us, the audience, unable to keep up with his fast-talking rhythms and plans, but it is clear that his madness and arrogance is leading to a path of doom - his lack of restraint within himself is his own undoing. Derek Jacobi is simply marvelous as the scheming Claudius - at times, he seems more dashing and in control than Hamlet, yet it is noteworthy how Jacobi manages to mask Claudius's villainy and bring a sense of sympathy. A round of applause must go to the return of Julie Christie to the big screen - her Gertrude is the maternal, emotional force who tries to heal Hamlet (I might add that Christie is at the appropriate age to play Gertrude when comparing to the youthful Glenn Close in the Zeffirelli version). Major pluses also go to Jack Lemmon as the doleful Marcellus, and the haunting expressiveness of Rufus Selwell as Prince Fortrinbas who eventually brings the throne to its knees. Kate Winslet ("Sense and Sensibility") is the ideal Ophelia; beautiful, sad, sexy, and madly insane.

Despite the great performances, there are some that are superfluous at best. I would have preferred other actors playing the First Gravedigger (Billy Crystal) and Osric (Robin Williams) - they distract us from the genuine power of the play and makes us feel as if we entered a Saturday Night Live special. Gerard Depardieu's walk-on bit as Reynaldo also feels unnecessary.

These are minor complaints for what is a superbly crafted work of art by Branagh. Serving as director as well, he makes the play into a visionary landscape of both the internal and external workings of Hamlet's mind. The vastness of the palace; the nocturnal bluish moors; the wintry scenery; the dazzling sword duels; Rufus's army marching symmetrically into the palace; and the moment when Hamlet tells his famous "To be or not to be" speech - these scenes, and many more, are beautifully realized by Branagh and cinematographer Alex Thomson. Branagh's first film was Shakespeare's "Henry V," a powerful, stirring film that made me want to join Henry in his battles. Since then, Branagh has fashioned a wonderful body of work ("Dead Again," "Peter's Friends," "Much Ado About Nothing"), and he continues to amaze. This vivid, breathtaking "Hamlet" finally gives Shakespeare and Branagh the respect they both deserve.

Pinhead is Jesus, Cenobites use CD's as weapons

HELLRAISER III: HELL ON EARTH (1992)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The initial concept of the original "Hellraiser" was the dilemna of its antihero, who had to feed off the living and live in a world with the love of his life. "Hellraiser" was reminsicent of a latter-day vampire film, and all was well until the Cenobites rediscovered the antihero and forced him to deal with pleasure and pain as equal, not separate, principles. "Hellbound: Hellraiser II" basically had its lead heroine running through endless passageways and making peace with Mr. Pinhead. Now with this sequel, there is more running around, lots of gory killings with chains and little imagination.

The last film had the Cenobites encased in a wooden box forever, or so it would seem. The lovely Ashley Laurence from the last two films has conspicuously disappeared, and has a cameo as a mental patient in some video explaining who the Cenobites are. This time, we are in New York City where a female TV reporter, Joey Summerskill (Terry Farrell), has a hot news story. She witnesses some young kid brought in from a nightclub to the emergency room where he is literally ripped apart by chains. Joey wants answers and is led to the nightclub itself called "The Boiler Room" (a possible nod to Fred Krueger's domicile?) by the kid's girlfriend (Paula Marshall). This girl decides to help Joey as long as she is allowed to stay in her apartment and make breakfast! Needless to say, the club's owner owns the sculpture where Pinhead is trapped in, and decides to help Pinhead lure female victims for flesh and oh, so much more. Somehow, Pinhead is the incarnation of Captain Elliott Spencer (Doug Bradley, playing both roles) and the soul was separated (some of this exposition was already mentioned in the last film in a nifty prologue). Instead of the menacing and clever villain of the original who lured his victims with his voice of torment, we have Pinhead becoming a slasher villain who is quick with the batty one-liners and wants to kill everyone and make them into Cenobites. My favorite one-liner is his response to a priest who damns him to hell: "Oh, such a lack of imagination," utters Pinhead. He may as well be describing the movie.

"Hellraiser III" is a cut above "Hellbound" Hellraiser II" but nowhere near the imagination and sheer horror of the original. Too many scenes of Pinhead scaring his victims with his witticisms - less is always more. Terry Farrell basically reacts to all the gory happenings without a shred of charisma - she looks like she belongs on a television sitcom, not a horror film. The film is pointless and purposeless. The gore is high on the meter, as are some twisted new Cenobites - one with a camera lens that fires missiles and the other uses CD's. Are the filmmakers joking? Did creator Clive Barker really approve all this? The best scene in the film is Pinhead mimicking Jesus Christ's crucifixion with the use of pins driven through his hands. Yes, sacrilegious and blasphemous indeed. Otherwise, you may as well raise bloody hell over this interminable series.

A waste of good suffering

HELLBOUND: HELLRAISER II (1988)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

There is pain and then there is pleasure. "Hellbound: Hellraiser II" is damn near unwatchable, a painfully boring, torpid mess of a movie. It appears to be assembled from other parts of better films adding up to nothing but a pain in your butt from having to sit through it.

We have a brief recap of the original film followed by a sequence where we learn about Pinhead's origins. Apparently, Pinhead (Doug Bradley) was a World War II soldier who discovered the magic box, known as the Lament Configuration, and inadvertently opened a portal to Hell where nails are driven through his head and, presto, he becomes Pinhead. This brief section of the film works best.

But "Hellbound" begins a few hours after the original where we observe Kirsty (Ashley Laurence) in some mental hospital declaring she is not crazy. She is eager to save her father's soul, which is trapped in Hell, but she has to get through Frank Cotton (Sean Chapman), her crazed uncle, and Julia Cotton (Claire Higgins) who is reanimated by a truly insane doctor who wants to take a peek at Hell. The rest of the movie follows Kirsty entering one dusty passageway after another. Hell turns out to be a labyrinth but there is little in it that looks the least bit pleasing to the eyes. I half suspected Kirsty to yawn at all these supposedly remarkable sights.

And that is it folks. There is Kirsty running from one passageway to another with a blond female mute in tow, with Kirsty screaming and hollering at every turn. Pinhead and fellow Cenobites show up briefly and disappear. There is some of the sexual tension of the original but nothing too dramatic ever occurs. In the original film, there was a real sense of fear, particularly when confronting the Cenobites. Kirsty faces Pinhead again but, this time, a little negotiating and bantering is all it takes to escape. Who are the filmmakers kidding? And whatever happened to Kirsty's boyfriend from the original who only gets a passing mention?

"Hellbound: Hellraiser II" is a frenetic, gore-laden freak show that leads nowhere. If you are a fan of the original, you might follow what's happening and understand who some of the recurring characters are and their motivations. Several sequels followed but it all seems like such a waste of good suffering.

Jesus wept at Pinhead

HELLRAISER (1987)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Despite flaws in its narrative and some undernourished characters, "Hellraiser" is one of the most provocative, intriguing horror films in many years. It has incredible images one may not soon forget and a dark, ugly feeling of dread that most horror movies hardly capture, if ever. In a sense, this is a true Gothic sadomasochistic delight that will twist your stomach into knots and give you bad dreams for a long time.

Larry Cotton (Andrew Robinson) and Julia Cotton (Claire Higgins) move into an old house that Larry inherited from the "old lady." The house seems frightening and ominous enough, complete with religious artifacts, statues and a kitchen full of scraps eaten away by maggots (though there are not as many exterior shots as one would like, there is a feeling of menace in the interior shots). Larry likes the house and Julia seems hesistant to move in but decides to settle for it ("I suppose it is better than Brooklyn.") It turns out that Larry's estranged brother, Frank (Sean Chapman), had been living in the house conducting himself with some mysterious magic box. Meanwhile, Frank's daughter, Kirsty (Ashley Laurence), has moved into the area and loves her father yet has a troubling relationship with his new bride. Not quite a functional family but close enough until we discover Julia's secret love affair with Frank in beautifully executed flashbacks.

The magic box, known in later sequels and in the Clive Barker book as the Lament Configuration, is a gateway to Hell and a means of summoning the Cenobites who provide pain as pleasure by wielding chains and piercing several parts of one's skin. The Lead Cenobite (Doug Bradley), later nicknamed Pinhead in the countless sequels, introduces his hapless victims to the boundaries of pleasure and pain. They look like dead punk rock musicians wearing leather garb with several bloody piercings. Pinhead wears what looks like nails on his head. One other Cenobite has chattering teeth. Another one wears sunglasses and appears to be heavyset. They are essentially demons, or as the lead Cenobite says, "Demons to some. Angels to others."

"Hellraiser" has many surprises in store but its constant bloodletting may put off many audience members. This is, however, not the kind of gross-out extravaganza built on gore for the sheer pleasure of shock value (even Pinhead would agree with that). Clive Barker, who wrote and directed the film from his own book "The Hellbound Heart," has crafted a witty, disturbingly heightened sense of reality with his own look at family values in the face of unimaginable horror. It is what the human characters do that scares more than the brief appearance of the Cenobites.

One vivid characterization is Julia Cotton (exceedingly well-played by Claire Higgins), a sensual, cold, aloof, sympathetic, murderous vixen who is shown in flashbacks to be quite the innocent, virginal type. Julia mistakenly reanimates Frank Cotton, who had escaped from the Cenobites and needs human flesh to be in human form again. Julia does his bidding, he is her former lover after all, and picks up men at various restaurants and bars to be used as flesh for Frank. Julia at first resists and is frightened by what she does but then she grows accustomed to it. The naive Larry and the suspicious Kirsty are unaware of what lies in the floorboards of the attic (it makes you wonder why they do not use it for storage space but never mind). Julia remains the scariest character in the film - if she had been in a film noir story as a seductress, she would fit the bill brilliantly.

My main quibble is that "Hellraiser" never places as much emphasis on characters such as Larry and Kirsty. Julia's character remains the most full-bodied but Larry is only shown in truncated form - one of his few good scenes is where he relishes a boxing match with glee while Julia merely is transfixed by it. Kirsty appears more as the latest in the "Friday the 13th"-teenage-screamer leads but she is effective enough in her confrontations with the Cenobites and crawling monsters in hidden passageways. I would have loved more scenes between Kirsty and Julia - one scene almost suggests that Julia is ready to use Kirsty as flesh food for Frank. Seeing Kirsty running around from monsters and screaming can get on one's nerves but, as played by Ashley Laurence, she is a sympathetic, strong-willed heroine. Who can hate someone that tells the Cenobites to go to hell? I suppose a good horror movie can't have everything but obviously Clive Barker is aiming for more than an average slasher flick, which this decidely is not. But its characters are fascinating enough to have expected so much more.

The ending of the film is a bit anticlimactic but the scene where Frank, using his brother's skin as cover, is chained up by the Cenobites where he utters the film's most famous line captures the film's theme of pain and pleasure in all its glory. "Hellraiser" is not a great film but it is good enough to be rendered a classic in the horror canon. You may get more pain than pleasure from watching it but it has an undeniable sense of fright and terror.

Yoda watches Night of the Living Dead

GHOST CHASE (1987)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

There is nothing worse than seeing an old 1980's flick with precisely all the elements of bad 1980's flicks. Bad hair days, bad music synthesizer sounds (there were some good ones back then, like the Axel Foley and  Fletch scores), an old-hat plot that Sherlock Holmes and the Hardy Boys would've figured out in ten minutes, a Yoda-like creature with a British accent, a clumsy German spy and excessively hammy acting. I am talking about a forgotten curio from 1987 called "Ghost Chase." 

This is an early effort by Roland Emmerich who went on to do so-so movies and truly horrendous blockbuster remakes - "Godzilla" anyone? Jason Lively plays an actor of extremely low-budget slasher films who discovers he is entitled to an inheritance. Only problem is that the inheritance is actually a grandfather clock but something odd happens - the clock is inhabited by the ghost of a former butler who has firsthand knowledge of valuable cash bonds that are kept in the walled-in section of a basement in an old mansion. It also turns out that a greedy movie executive (Paul Gleason) is very interested in the location of those cash bonds.

The ghost of the butler looks like Yoda, and manages to manifest itself in a puppet that looks just like him. This is odd because neither looks remotely human, hence the Yoda reference. Jason Lively tries his damnedest to make his character appealing, as does the bright shining star of Jill Whitlow as the actress/waitress. "Night of the Creeps" fans will delight in seeing these two again, but it ain't worth the trouble (just watch "Night of the Creeps" again). Neither is the film director, puppet maker and horror movie buff named Fred (Tim McDaniel) - an insufferably whining kid who makes film in-jokes every few minutes in the midst of jeopardy. Speaking of in-jokes, why do movies that show clips from other movies always show them out of order? When Master Yoda watches "Night of the Living Dead" through a projector, you'll see what I mean.

Unless you are the most devoted Jill Whitlow fan on earth, any VHS and DVD copies of "Ghost Chase" belong deep, deep underground.