About This Blog

A place to find my reviews not featured on epinions.com or horror-asylum.com, as well as opinions and lists on everything from movies to TV to music. It's all about me! Send hate mail to vegie18th@hotmail.com or just leave a comment beneath the posts. Review grading system assumes C+ is somewhere in the vicinity of a Passing grade or minor fail.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Review: The Watch

Ben Stiller plays a supermarket manager who is left shaken by the shocking murder of the store’s night watchman. This inspires him to start his own neighbourhood watch outfit. Unfortunately, the only volunteers he gets are a police academy reject (Jonah Hill), a boorish loudmouth merely looking for an excuse to hang out and party (Vince Vaughn), and a nerdy, socially awkward Brit (Richard Ayoade). At first, things don’t seem to be going anywhere, and local cop Will Forte is always on hand to mock Stiller’s efforts, but then the group uncover something sinister and altogether otherworldly: Aliens have landed and are impersonating human beings to infiltrate the ranks and carry out their dastardly deeds. Meanwhile, Stiller’s wife Rosemarie DeWitt desperately wants him to put a baby inside of her, but keeps getting rejected in favour of neighbourhood watch business. Billy Crudup plays a new neighbour who may be sexually interested in Stiller, might just be plain weird, or might be an alien impersonating a creepy human being. R. Lee Ermey plays a crusty old codger with a line in profane insults. He also plays one in the film.

Proof that money and big-name comedic talent aren’t enough to make a successful comedy, this desperate 2012 film from director Akiva Schaffer (who has done some short segments for “SNL” with Andy Samberg apparently), is pretty desperate and entirely unfunny stuff from normally funny screenwriters Evan Goldberg, Seth Rogen (writers of the highly amusing and likeable “Superbad”),supposedly enhancing an original script by Jared Stern in a result that looks like a bunch of gags have been incongruously planted on top of a straight-up horror/sci-fi flick. The sole laugh in the whole film is a Spanish version of Simon & Garfunkel’s ‘The Sound of Silence’. What does that tell you? Apparently there was much improv going on, and that doesn’t surprise me. What does surprise me is that none of the improv (nor anything else) is even remotely funny. How could so many allegedly talented on-screen performers get it so wrong? Well, “Wanderlust” from the same year yielded much the same desperately unfunny results despite supposed comic talent involved, so perhaps pedigree isn’t relevant.

Vince Vaughn in particular, appears to have thrown the screenplay out entirely and is just free-wheeling it, scatting and riffing all over the place. And he never produces a single laugh, as both he and Ben Stiller fall back on tired old screen personas, tics, and clichés. Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. Vince Vaughn is good at playing Vince Vaughn, and here he’s trying to play an entirely different character...as Vince Vaughn, because it’s all he can do. As a character seemingly made for Seann William Scott or Zack Galifianakis, Vaughn completely flops and just comes off looking desperate. Stiller, meanwhile, is just incredibly boring, whilst Jonah Hill’s unstable police academy reject might have had the potential to be funny, but not here. Why did these three guys think this awful screenplay was ripe for filming? Well, since there has been some obvious improv going on, perhaps they didn’t. So why make it all then? Well, if the answer was money, they were shit out of luck on that front too, because it flopped. I’m sorry, but even R. Lee Ermey yelling and swearing a blue streak, and Billy Crudup acting weird and disarmingly suggestive aren’t enough to make this watchable.

Poor Rosemarie DeWitt looks incredible in sexy lingerie, but is given a horrible, nagging wife role that she can’t work miracles with. She’s far too beautiful and talented to be wasted in something like this. Apparently Richard Ayoade is a TV comedian of some repute (“The IT Crowd”, which I’ve never watched more than a few minutes of), but buggered if I can see any evidence of talent here. He joins Jermaine Clement, Matt Lucas, David Walliams, Catherine Tate, Aussie Rebel Wilson and several others in the ‘I don’t get it’ category. “SNL”comedian Will Forte, meanwhile, continues to be one of the least funny comedians sprouted from that TV show, and gets way too much screen time here.

The “ET” parody is cute but not actually funny nor as clever as everyone involved probably thought. The film itself is a combination of “The‘burbs” and “Attack the Block”, neither film being anywhere near a favourite of mine (Nor “Men in Black”, another film one could compare it to). I also found it odd that the central characters who formed the Neighbourhood Watch weren’t previously acquainted with one another (aside from a brief encounter between Stiller and Vaughn). Perhaps setting the film on a single street or two might’ve helped with that a bit, because it just stuck out to me. Maybe it’s partly that the actors had zero chemistry with one another and Ayoade in particular seems to be an ill-fit in this film.

Like “Couples Retreat”, this smacks of egotistical stars who wanted to spend money and just generally enjoy each others’ company, without any real effort to making a good film, with director Schaffer (whose previous film was “Hot Rod” with Andy Samberg) going along for the ride. Even the disappointing “Tower Heist” was better than this boring, unfunny flop.

A poor disappointment (well, unless you saw the trailer which was an accurate depiction of how bad the film is) where the laughs are so lacking one wonders if it was even intended to be comedic at all. If I were any of the actors involved here, I’d be deeply embarrassed by this misfire. My guess is that all involved will blame Trayvon Martin instead.

Rating: D+

Review: Get the Gringo

Mel Gibson plays a career crim and getaway driver trying to evade police by heading into Mexico after having stolen some cash ($2 million) from slimy Peter Stormare. The Mexican cops, being corrupt, keep the dosh and throw Gibson into El Pueblito, which is kind of a prison city, and frankly, a complete shithole full of corruption. While in prison he befriends a juvenile con (Kevin Hernandez) who lives there with his recovering addict mother (Dolores Heredia), and who is on tap to provide a liver to a local crime boss (Apparently you can have your family with you at this prison) played by Daniel Gimenez Cacho. Naturally, the gruff, self-preserving crim is softened by his interaction with the boy and his mother, but he also wants to get his damn money back. Peter Gerety plays a US Consul employee who is just as sleazy and corrupt as everyone else.


Not everyone finds it easy to watch a Mel Gibson movie these days, but I have to say that the on-screen impact of his off-screen alcohol-fuelled psychotic behaviour was the least of the problems I had with his “Edge of Darkness”. It just wasn’t much of a movie. Similarly, I was able to just watch Mel Gibson the actor/movie star in this 2012 flick from co-writer/director Adrian Grunberg (assistant director to Gibson on “Edge of Darkness” and the underrated “Apocalypto”), which Gibson himself had a hand in writing (I swear he could legitimately find himself in a situation like this one day), along with Stacy Perskie (also an assistant director on “Edge of Darkness”). There’s not much to it that you haven’t seen before (though it’s a lot better than “Payback” if you ask me) and it starts stronger than it finishes, but I’ve got to say, up until then it’s highly watchable.


The plot is familiar and unique at the same time if that makes any sense, but it’s a billion times better than that other Mexico-set caper, “The Mexican”. A severely weathered but roguishly charming Gibson is well-cast (On-screen punishment as penance for his off-screen misbehaviour?) in a performance that might remind you of the laconic Bryan Brown with a little more grit, but boy does Gibson do the worst Clint Eastwood impersonation you’ve ever heard. The opening police chase, however, is memorable and quite funny, with the humour having somewhat of a laconic Aussie vibe to it. There’s some really funny, droll and cynical lines of dialogue throughout.


Peter Stormare is underused, and although he’s always the same in every film, this is the right kind of film for his sleazy, bizarro Timothy Carey schtick. Meanwhile, if prisons like this corrupt shithole really exist...what’s the point? It seems easier to be a crim in prison than on the outside! Wow.


It’s little more than a B-movie, and I can kinda see why it didn’t get much love commercially (It wasn’t even released to theatres in the US), but it’s a whole lot better than its reputation to say the very least. If perhaps it leaves you feeling a little bit  undernourished by the end, it’s at least pleasant while eating. Well, maybe not pleasant, but for a film about the shittiest Mexican hellhole prison you’ve ever seen, it’s not unentertaining. It certainly has one thing going for it: After watching this film, you’ll make damn sure you never end up in a Mexican prison.


Rating: B-

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Review: Cloud 9

Burt Reynolds plays an unscrupulous and allegedly charming scam artist who gets the genius idea of collecting an assorted group of strippers (African-American Kenya Moore, Hispanic tough girl Patricia de Leon, Foreign-accented Katheryn Winnick etc) and shape them into a beach volleyball team. Or at least look like that’s what he tells everyone, really he just wants to make megabucks with the least amount of actual volleyball being played. ‘Coz that would require far too much training, better to have them appear at big parties for a fee. Veteran stripper Angie Everhart, however, used to be a real player, and decides to help them out. The real volleyball players of course see right through Reynolds’ sham, just as everyone surely realises that team sponsor Mr. Wong is actually a Mexican named Juan who is passing himself off as Asian (really badly for supposed comic effect) so that he’ll be respected as a landscaper rather than simply a gardener. Paul Wesley and D.L. Hughley play Reynolds’ cohorts, the latter his adopted son who is a chauffeur, the former the stoner dude who sleeps on Reynolds’ couch in his trailer (roles that really ought to have been combined). Washed-up celebrities like Tom Arnold, Tony Danza, and Gary Busey appear as themselves, though Busey’s the only one given a scene that appears to have an intended joke attached (involving a poopy dog. I didn’t say it was a good joke).


Directed by Harry Basil (who directed something called “The 4th Tenor” with the late Rodney Dangerfield), there’s a lot wrong with this 2006 volleyball comedy, and I’m not just talking about its inexplicable title. The two main flaws are a complete lack of laughs, and a plotline involving strippers and the beach, but absolutely no nudity or sex whatsoever. So what is there in its place? A tired, “Mighty Ducks”-esque sports story, some botched ethnic humour by hack ethnic comedian Paul Rodriguez (portraying two bad ethnic stereotypes for the price of one!), and a lot of piss-poor acting from just about everyone (Reynolds and Everhart aren’t bad, but seemingly bored out of their minds). Real beach volleyball pro Gabrielle Reece is especially bad in a horribly written role as the sour, bitter rival beach volleyball antagonist. The role is shockingly one-dimensional, but Reece really ought not give up her day job with her stone-faced line-readings. And this is a film that already stars Burt Reynolds.


Co-written by long-time Reynolds crony Albert S. Ruddy (co-writer of “Cannonball Run II”, producer of “The Godfather”...and the Rodney Dangerfield sports ‘comedy’ “Ladybugs”), there’s nothing here you haven’t seen before and a lot better. And the strippers don’t strip! I’m sorry, but that’s just entirely unforgiveable, especially when you’ve got Angie Everhart and Kenya Moore (one of the most beautiful and bodacious women on the planet) in the cast and nothing else worth a damn. What were they thinking when that decision was made? Did they expect us to take its attempts at rallying against the exploitation of women seriously? Then once again, why cast a bunch of women not especially well-versed in anything beyond looking good? (The one exception being perhaps Winnick, who has appeared in a number of films)


Poor Burt continues to piss away his comeback cred afforded him for “Boogie Nights” with another turd. Aside from “Evening Shade”, I just don’t think comedy is his ‘thing’.


Rating: D+

Review: The Watcher

James Spader plays a burnt-out, seriously drug-addicted FBI agent recently relocated from LA to Chicago, after he failed to nab a serial killer (Keanu Reeves) who killed someone close to him. Apparently this psycho has become attached to Spader and follows him to Chicago to start things up again. He plays games with the troubled agent by sending him photos of the intended victim and giving him a time frame in which to find them. Marisa Tomei plays Spader’s shrink, Chris Ellis is a detective, and Ernie Hudson is the superior officer.


Here’s a film where the behind-the-scenes back-story and speculation are more interesting than watching the film itself. The story I’ve read goes that Keanu Reeves gave director Joe Charbanic a verbal agreement years beforehand to do this dopey serial killer flick from 2000, with the understanding that his role was fairly small and insubstantial in the film. Apparently they used to play hockey together or something and he even directed videos for Reeves’ shithouse band Dogstar (Seriously, they’re bloody awful). When the film was subsequently much re-written, and Reeves had become a star, Reeves’ role was beefed up, but his pay stayed the same (less than James Spader and Marisa Tomei were paid), and Keanu wanted to walk away (Isn’t it better to be written into the film more rather than barely having a cameo? Oh, it’s about the money?....) He eventually agreed to do the film and wouldn’t even badmouth it in the press, so long as his role was downplayed in all promotion of the film. A notorious case involving Kim Basinger probably had something to do with Keanu’s change of heart. That’s what I’ve read, anyway.


Looking at the film itself, Keanu Reeves’ performance is absolutely appalling, but is it because he wasn’t invested in doing the film? Or was it some combination of his being completely miscast here, and frankly not much of an actor in the first place? My money is on the latter scenario, but you could be forgiven for thinking it was the former. Keanu’s by far the worst thing about the film, which is a pretty poor film overall, and it’s easy to see why Mr. Charbanic hasn’t made a feature-length film since, no matter what went on behind-the-scenes (I’d say the producers were the snakes here, not the director). But Keanu takes this thing to new lows, whether through laziness, miscasting, or incompetence as an actor. He certainly seems to be barely giving a performance at all, and being roped into making the film is no excuse for sucking, Keanu. In fact, if he is indeed half-arsing it, he’s a giant douchebag for doing so. I’ve seen worse Keanu Reeves films in my time (“Johnny Mnemonic”, anyone?), but he’s appallingly flat and his ‘duuuuuude’ voice is wholly inappropriate for the role. There’s nothing menacing or threatening about him at all, and his attempts at seducing women just gave me hilarious flashbacks to his attempts at being brooding in Paula Abdul’s ‘Rush, Rush’ music video (It’s hysterically funny to look back on it). Keanu as a serial killer? Don’t make me laugh, the film (which flopped) was doomed from the very moment someone thought that casting was a good idea. How bad is Keanu here? Jean-Claude Van Damme is better at playing a serial killer (in the underrated “Replicant”). That’s how bad Keanu is.


But like I said, the film itself sucks anyway. The stylised camerawork and plays on various photographic devices is all way overdone by Charbanic (who is an MTV graduate, of course) and usually impressive cinematographer Michael Chapman (“Invasion of the Body Snatchers”, “Raging Bull”, “The Lost Boys”, “The Fugitive”). At one point, we get a POV shot that makes it look like Reeves has a 16mm camera inside his noggin, but is just a stupid stylistic device that doesn’t make the film any closer to “Peeping Tom”. This, and the skewed angles are just Charbanic showing his music video background, but he’s clearly no Russell Mulcahy (director of “Razorback”, “Highlander” and a bunch of Duran Duran clips). Kudos for playing the one Rob Zombie song I like, though (‘Dragula’).


If there’s any reason to see this film, well there isn’t. However, James Spader does what he can to make the film suck a whole lot less. Unfortunately, he’s swimming upstream in a flood of biblical proportions. Spader’s good in a role Robert Downey Jr. or Carlos Estevez could’ve also played, but if you’re looking for suitable ‘James Spader Comeback’ material, try “Secretary”, the latter episodes of “The Practice”, or early episodes of “Boston Legal”, before things got a little too goofy. If Keanu is miscast here, then so is James Spader’s credible performance. It deserves to be in something better than this. Having said that, if you take out Spader’s character, you’ve got an even worse film. It would not only be terrible, it’d be your standard ‘killer taunts police detective’ film.


I can see why the immensely warm and empathetic Marisa Tomei was cast as a shrink here, but I have no clue as to why she accepted such an inert role where her only function is to be a kidnap victim setting up the finale. Unless the kidnapper is a patient, that’s just stupid. Chris Ellis, meanwhile, is perfectly acceptable in a role that probably should’ve gone to a bigger name. Imagine what life or colour a John Goodman, Will Patton, or Joe Pantoliano could’ve done with it. Hell, Ernie Hudson could’ve played it instead of taking the shitty police captain role he has here. Isn’t he stealing Bill Duke’s patented role in that case? Hudson’s a terrific character actor, but appalling at choosing scripts. I’ve never seen him give a bad performance, and given he was in “Congo”, that says a lot.


One solid performance is not nearly enough to save this over-stylised, underdone serial killer flick with a hopelessly miscast villain and nothing new to say. Turn it off. Scripted by Clay Ayers and David Elliott (the latter of whom co-wrote “G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra”) from a story by Elliott and Darcy Meyers.


Rating: C-

Monday, November 11, 2013

Review: Three O’Clock High

High school dork Casey Siemaszko is asked to write a favourable piece on the recently transferred Richard Tyson, who comes with a seriously bad and violent rep, and may in fact be a complete psycho. Unfortunately, he’s a tough nut to crack, and Siemaszko, going the complete wrong way about it (this guy is very ‘touchy’ about being touched), ends up with an after school date with Tyson’s switchblade. He spends the rest of the day attempting everything under the sun to get out of his rendezvous with certain death, but it doesn’t look good for him. Jeffrey Tambor is the affable student supplies store owner whom Siemaszko works for, Phillip Baker Hall is a detective who specialises in juvenile crime, Charles Macaulay (who played Dracula in the blaxploitation favourite “Blacula”) is the intimidating chrome-domed VP, John P. Ryan is the principal, Caitlin O'Heaney plays a horny English teacher, Anne Ryan is Siemaszko’s quirky best pal (you can call her Mary Stuart Masterson in “Some Kind of Wonderful”), Liza Morrow is the pretty popular girl in school (who for once is genuinely sweet), Stacey Glick is Siemaszko’s kid sister, Mitch Pileggi is a stupid but dogged security guard, and Yeardley ‘Lisa Simpson’ Smith plays a cheerleader.


There’s a lot of interesting names in the cast of this 1987 teen comedy, but some of the behind the scenes talent is perhaps more interesting and promise something quite substantial. You’ve got Barry Sonnenfeld (director of “Men in Black”) as a ‘Lighting Consultant’, Spielberg protégé Phil Joanou (the U2 doco “Rattle & Hum”, the excellent crime flick “State of Grace”) as director, Richard (Christian) Matheson as co-screenwriter (he being son of the other Richard Matheson, and a veteran of TV shows like “The A-Team”), music by 80s staple Tangerine Dream (“The Keep”, “Near Dark”) and Sylvester Levay, and producers Neal Israel (co-writer/director of “Bachelor Party”, and co-writer of “Police Academy” and a couple of episodes of “The Wonder Years”) and Aaron Spelling (iconic TV producer, father of demon spawn Tori). There’s also an uncredited name involved, one Steven Spielberg who acted as Executive Producer, but had his name left off the credits. Why? Some say he and Aaron Spelling got along like the Hatfields and McCoys, and especially disputed over a kiss scene at the end of the film. Even if the kiss was indeed Spielberg getting his way and not Spelling (and that’s the way it seems, based on what I’ve read), there’s nothing in this film that positively enhances the Spielberg brand (it’s pretty close to a John Hughes rip-off, however), so I don’t blame him for not taking credit, especially since he was probably just doing a favour for buddy Joanou.


Why am I dropping all these names and knowledge on you? Because frankly, the film itself isn’t memorable enough to spend a whole helluva lot of time discussing. And also because it takes 90 minutes to do what “The Wonder Years” (my favourite TV show) perfected in under 30 minutes, in the episode where Kevin Arnold squares off against bully Eddie Pinetti. There’s certainly not enough material in the script by Matheson and Thomas E. Szollosi (who wrote 8 episodes of “The A-Team”) for a motion picture story. In the end it comes off as tolerable, but kinda like a bland “Ferris Bueller” (both share cast member Anne Ryan, who had maybe one line in the earlier film but is an oddball sidekick here), and the only chuckles coming from Richard Tyson’s scary-yet-funny performance, and an amusing scene where he has a showdown with the jock hire by nerdy Casey Siemaszko (who needs to rely on his wits, but is sadly no Ferris Bueller in that department) to do his fighting for him.


The other big problem is Joanou’s direction, which seems like aggressive compensation for a mediocre script. I get what he was trying to do and what he was stuck with, but Joanou brings ‘ham-fisted’ to a whole new level, and a little of it goes a long, long way. I kinda resisted and resented it, to be honest. I know he was trying to ratchet up the tension, but Tyson’s smouldering, Brando-esque performance full of seething and barely suppressed rage was doing enough of the work in that regard already (Apparently he’s an incredibly nice, humble guy in real-life, but this and “Kindergarten Cop” have you questioning that).


Aside from Tyson, the actors are all pretty wasted, especially talented character actors John P. Ryan, Mitch Pileggi (“The X Files”), Phillip Baker Hall, and Jeffrey Tambor. Casey Siemaszko (who was terrific as nervous Charlie in “Young Guns”) is OK in the lead, but Liza Morrow is pretty awful as the ‘hot’ girl, and Anne Ryan’s rather odd character seems to come from an entirely different movie. She’s also way too hot for Siemaszko, or at least way too hot for him to want to be with anyone other than her. I could never quite figure that one out.


No, there’s not much to see here, I’m afraid. Don’t let all the recognisable names fool you, it’s pretty forgettable stuff, a John Hughes imitator by someone who seemingly watched a lot of Hughes movies without learning much. It feels like a bit of a fraud. That said, it does seem to have a bit of a cult following, so what do I know?


Rating: C

Review: The Minus Man

Owen Wilson plays Vann, a serial killer with a special line in poisoning his victims. He drifts into a small, rather melancholic town, renting a room from Mercedes Ruehl’s Jane, and strikes up a friendship with her unstable husband Doug (Brian Cox). Doug gets him a gig working for the local post-office, where he meets the lonely, open-faced Ferrin (Janeane Garofalo), who immediately latches herself onto Vann. She might just regret that. Dwight Yoakam and Dennis Haysbert have bizarro roles as two detectives who actually seem like figments of Vann’s imagination, who act like his conscience, and project all of the remorse, guilt, and fear of getting caught that the outwardly cool Vann seems incapable of. Eric Mabius and Sheryl Crow play two of Vann’s victims, whilst John Carroll Lynch plays a bartender.


A terrific dramatic performance by Owen Wilson and an overall sense of melancholia are the highlights of this interesting 1999 mood/character piece from writer-director Hampton Fancher (screenwriter of “Blade Runner”, of all things). It’s just a shame that, for all of its qualities, this adaptation of a novel by Lew McCreary ultimately doesn’t quite hang together. It’s also a bit of a shame that Fancher hasn’t directed a film since this, his debut directing venture, because...it’s got something. Not all films have something, and this one does, so it’s not such a bad thing that it ultimately lacks in a few areas. Wilson, instead of playing the likeable goofball, plays a blandly charming yet entirely soulless serial killer in one of the more effective cases of casting against type you’re likely to see. It’s a unique characterisation, kind of a low-key Ted Bundy...but with an ugly broken nose, and it might also remind you of TV’s highly addictive “Dexter”, about another serial killer you struggle to actually hate. And here’s a guy who has gone ‘postal’ before joining the postal service. It makes one wonder what the remake of “Psycho” would’ve been like with Owen Wilson as Norman Bates instead of Vince Vaughn. Yes, it’s kind of an elusive performance, but that’s as it should be. He’s a sociopath for cryin’ out loud, though for much of the film he’s a rather disarmingly affable one (in his voiceover, he seems to comment on other characters’ behaviour in a way that suggests he’s genuinely surprised by it, as though it’s not something he quite comprehends) so that when he finally does act out towards one of the characters, it’s a complete shock to them, if not entirely a shock to us (After all, we already know he’s a serial killer). But at no other point in the film do we see him really act out in any kind of overtly violent way, as poisoning is his preferred method of killing and is rather quiet and painless. His blandness and unassuming demeanour (he’s not nearly as alarmingly nuts as say, David Berkowitz) make him so invisible almost, that he’s able to waltz into this town, set up camp and go about killing people completely unnoticed. The other reason why he’s able to do this is because of the townsfolk themselves.


Some of the performances, especially Mercedes Ruehl’s, are a bit too mumbly, but there’s a sense that the whole town is depressed or at least deeply, deeply melancholic. With a town full of manic depressives like the one Brian Cox plays, they seem ripe for the picking by a serial killer who seems to target lost souls (lost souls seem to gravitate towards him, so whether it’s a specific plan or something more opportunistic, is up to the viewer I guess). With everyone so catatonically depressed and lonely, he can just go about his business. You really worry about the supporting characters in this, including an effective early cameo by the normally annoying Sheryl Crow, as a rather sad alcoholic. However, it’s Janeane Garofalo who will earn most of your sympathy. Remember when Garofalo was less rant-y and tattooed, and could actually, y’know, smile every now and then? She’s really appealing in this, and you definitely worry for her because she has absolutely no idea what she’s getting herself into.


And then it ends on a note that...just won’t do. I understand the intent of the ending, but I just think it’s the wrong note to end the film on, feeling as though Fancher ran out of money or something. Still, whether it’s an overall success or a near-miss, there’s no doubting that it’s an interesting, quietly creepy film, and if ever you’ve doubted Owen Wilson as an actor, you need to see this film. It’s an offbeat cult item worth a look.


Rating: B-