WEEKEND MADNESS WRAP-UP......SPECIAL "ORANGE IS THE NEW BLACK" EDITION

 

                 

                  Finally........

                  Finally, after a long 77 year lifetime of grifting, lying, cheating, whoring, stealing......

 

                  Finally, after infecting the very heart and soul of America with hatred, bigotry, misogyny, cruelty and a never ending cascade of lies.......

                  Finally......the slowly turning wheels of justice and the rule of law caught up with him......

                   Finally.....cornered like the rat he's always been......with at long last, no place to hide. 

                   A day for sadness and a day for celebration.

                   Sadness for the amount of damage he wreaked upon us.......damage that our historians will study, interpret and asses for generations to come.......

                    An empty soul, a bottomless abyss of a human being.....who yet somehow seduced millions to stand under his banner of stupidity and ignorance. 

 

                  But a day for celebration, because for the first time ever, we've lived to see the day that may mark the beginning of the end for him......

                  Not that any of this will go easy on anybody......a long, tortuous road ahead for certain. 

                  Sensing that his life as a human turd now approaches a final flush down the bowl,  he'll want to take America with him......

                  We must not let him.

                   If enough of us stay strong, resolute and resolved, we'll live to see the day  that millions upon millions of Americans hoped and prayed for....

                   The day when Donald J. Trump finally wears a jumpsuit to match the greasy, citrus colored sludge he smears on his face.....when the constant flowing sewer of his mind and mouth will flood nothing but prison floors and walls......

                    Let's all continue to hope and pray for that day.

'THE LEGEND OF THE LONE RANGER'.....'WHO WAS THAT MASKED MAN?..... WHO THE **** CARES?

The Legend Of The Lone Ranger (1981)   Strange, but I hold no memory of ever seeing this movie, when it showed up instantly dead on arrival, vilified and mocked by critics, ignored by audiences. 

           No wonder. The damn thing went wrong in so many ways, it disappears in front of your eyes while you're still watching it. 

           The idea of rebooting the ancient western hero of radio and TV into a Big Summer Family flick came from producer Jack Wrather and his wife Bonita Granville. Wrather produced the "Lassie" TV series and once upon a time, Granville enjoyed a minor career as a 1930's movie cutie-pie. 

           Drooling at the profits of the 1979 "Superman", the Wrathers thought they possessed enough talent and smarts to do the same for The Lone Ranger and his faithful Indian companion, Tonto. 

            Talk about delusions of grandeur......

             These dunces first proceeded to generate toxic publicity for themselves by forcing poor old Clayton Moore, the original Ranger, to cease and desist making costumed personal appearances as the beloved hero we boomers all grew up with.  Way to go, guys.... harass our original Ranger and alienate  your target audience (boomers and their kids) before you even get the film in theaters. Genius;

             But wait.....the worst was yet to come. The blithering Wrathers hoped to surprise and delight the world with the equivalent of  "Superman" s Christopher Reeve. For their new, young Ranger, they chose a non-acting non entity named Klinton Spilsbury.  This thin side of beef was such a blank on screen, they used actor James Keach to dub him. But Keach could only deliver deadened, flat line readings match the deadened flat expressions on Spilsbury's face. 

              Surprise, surprise.....With his obnoxious, diva-like behavior on the set and total of acting ability, Splilsbury effectively spilsburied himself.....went off the radar, never to make another film or ever be heard from again....reducing himself to a trivia question.

             Even more calamity followed. The script wasted over an hour of running time to establish the origins of The Lone Ranger. By the time he's fully outfitted with a mask and his 'Hi Yo Silver' white stallion the plot lurches into a stale re-hash of the 'Wild Wild West TV show.......with the Ranger and Tonto rescuing President Grant (a game Jason Robards) from rogue madman Butch Cavendish (Christopher Lloyd) who's setting up his own Independent Kingdom Of Texas. 

              (In the film's one and only clever idea, a trio of Grant's legendary pals also come charging in....no less then Wild Bill Hickock, Buffalo Bill Cody and George Armstrong Custer.....)

            The film also shilled out enough cash to pay for a John Barry score, but from the sound of it, Barry dutifully threw in some generic Barry-like music, ,punched the clock and moved on. Visually, the film's a total loss. This cornball epic cried out for sharp, ripe Technicolor but it's  smeared over with that soft focus, yellowish-gold veneer, usually applied to bloody 1970's revisionist westerns. 

           Speaking of bloody, "The Legend of The Lone Ranger", supposedly an all ages movie, freely indulges in plenty of shootout slaughters.....not to mention a explosion-laden climax that blows dozens of bad guys to kingdom come as they fly through air screaming their last screams. And yet at times the movie unashamedly resurrects antiquated scenes of the Ranger yelling 'Hi yo Silver' and away! as the clarion call of the William Tell overture erupts. Devoid of humor and wit, it's never really clear what kind of audience this film's catering to.... either the "Wild Bunch" gorehouds, or boomers steeped in 1950's nostalgia or little kids who like watching horsies go fast. 

            Reaping the failure it practically begged for, this 'Lone Ranger' went blowin' in the wind faster than a tumbleweed in a sandstorm.......No filmmaker would dare touch this material again until the bloated, misbegotten CGI crapfest Lone Ranger arrived in 2013 with the now cancelled Armie Hammer as L.R. and a misguided Johnny Depp as Tonto. More on that one in another post......

             One shred of good news. After both Klinton Spilsbury and his Zero star (0) movie dropped out of sight forever, our good ole TV Ranger Clayton Moore went right back to appearing at State Fairs and shopping malls. Hi Yo, Clayton!

              

            

             

            

'ALWAYS ISN'T FOREVER'....A BOY MOVES HEAVEN AND EARTH TO RETURN TO HIS SOULMATE....

Always Isn't Forever by J.C. Cervantes (2023)

             The amount of tears readers will shed while experiencing this book will no doubt equal a tsunami of epic proportions.  By all means grab this, but not without a family-size package of tissues handy.

           Two primal emotions rule here -  the unconditional, intense love of a couple who've been soulmates since childhood and the overpowering, wounding grief befalling them due to the cruelest of fates. 

            Teens Ruby and Hart were practically born to be together, until Hart loses his life through a selfless act of bravery. But while his physical body has succumbed, an intervening angel offers a chance for his spirit and soul to live inside someone else who's positioned on the border of life and death. 

             Seizing the opportunity to come back to Ruby, Hart inhabits the body of Jameson, the high school's star athlete/and all-around obnoxious jerk. about to come out of a motorcycle accident coma.  

             Here's where the book's particular heaven-and-earth mythology becomes quite complicated and involved, presenting Hart, in his new incarnation, with a daunting challenge to win back the grief stricken Ruby. His, sensitive artistic soul now exists side by side within Jameson, along with Jameson's own abilities and memories. But Hart's memories, including those of Ruby are only taking up temporary residence.....they're fading fast and the clock's ticking.

             Even worse.....how can Ruby comprehend why on earth Jameson, once a smug, self centered delinquent, has transformed into such a caring, kind soul?  And what kind of unbelievable news, something he's incapable of saying out loud, is he desperately trying to communicate to her?

            Once J.C. Cervantes hooked me with this incredible combination of suspense and gut-wrenching emotion, I literally could not stop reading until the end.....and yes, it's just about impossible to navigate through this story with dry eyes.  It's everything you'd expect from a romance that keeps you on the edge of your seat, hoping and praying for the ripped-asunder soulmates to somehow find each other again. a truly passionate 5 star read for sure.  An absolute TBR must-have. (*****)

'MAEVE FLY'......A PSYCHO DISNEY PRINCESS LETS IT GO......

 Maeve Fly by CJ Leede (2023)

          You'll have to pardon me while I hose down the gallons of blood, severed limbs, assorted organs and at least one random eyeball that came flooding out this book......

.
            A bit much? Not at all, cause I think it's essential that only readers who can stomach (and really love) hardcore horror go anywhere near 'Maeve Fly'  Everyone else?  Stick with 'The Addams Family'.......

             Imagine, if you will 'American Psycho's Patrick Bateman reconceived as a Disneyland park Princess Elsa, that beloved "Let It Go' belter from "Frozen". Just the perverse audacity of that idea made me laugh and shake my head in admiration. 

             To the delight of park visitors, the live action Elsa's well  played by none other than our title gal Maeve Fly, while sister Anna's played by Maeve's BFF, Kate. 

             Maeve loves her work with a passion, even tolerating Liz, her officious, micro-managing supervisor. Kate, however an aspiring actress, struggles to snag a film or TV role. And this is a perfect moment to mention how author CJ Leede evokes and beautifully portrays Los Angeles in all its sun-drenched madness - especially the underbelly of showbiz where's everybody's grasping for their dream while only a precious few achieve it.  Perceptive, sharp and darkly funny, at times the book reads like a modern day "Day Of The Locust"... only with way more blood.

 
            Speaking of dark.....that's Maeve through and through. At the house she shares with Tallulah, her once-upon-a-time movie star and infirm grandmother, she celebrates Halloween like it's Christmas at Hallmark.  All she really needs to tip her over into complete insanity is something  (or someone) to light her fuse. 

           Sure enough, Maeve finds the fuse lighter in the person of Kate's hunka-hunka Hockey star brother Gideon, newly arrived to play for the L.A. Kings. Gideon, with rippling abs and libido to match, sees directly into the bottomless abyss of Maeve's empty, violent, psychotic heart.  He seems at least a possible kindred spirit, and for Maeve, who's already rapidly giving in to utter madness, that's all she needs to...uh... let it go.....and go medieval on any number of...uh....poor unfortunate souls. (but that's another movie, right?)

            As I previously forewarned, the carnage here is way, way, way over the top, but author Leede turns the whole thing into such a funhouse ride, you're never sure whether to giggle or gag. And I could only smile and nod at the finale's big twist, dripping with irony....(among other things).  For those who can take it, it's a 5 star (*****) ride into a human void. Dive in if you dare.

'HOUSE OF 1000 CORPSES', 'THE DEVIL'S REJECTS' & '3 FROM HELL'.....THE ROB ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE......

        

  I'll never know what horror fans did to deserve Rob Zombie, the rock star turned amateur-night auteur of grindhouse splatterfests.......

           As a writer-director, he's what you'd call....um.....an acquired taste. His always overlong films arrive awash in gallons of gore, dialogue mostly made up of spewed, F-laced invective, and a very bottom of the abyss outlook on humanity. And they usually feature clownish, maladroit performances by his monumentally untalented wife, Sheri Moon Zombie. 

            His films devolve into endurance tests, since there's never any character even remotely resembling a real human being. In each of his films, innocent victims line up like bowling alley ten pints, waiting their turn to be shot, stabbed or eviscerated while still alive. But as conceived by Zombie, these luckless souls appear only slightly less repulsive and obnoxious then the maniacs who slaughter them. 

            So the films end up as nothing more than the lowest grade geek-a-paloozas, parading their cruelty and ultra-violence for and hoots and giggles of gorehounds.

           Prime example, his "Firefly" trilogy, following the blood soaked path of an entire family of demented serial killers. 

           We start with 'House Of 1000 Corpses" (2003, in which a carload of fresh victims foolishly visit a house that's actually an all purpose human abattoir for the Firefly family, whose men are named after Groucho Marx characters....(Captain Spaulding, Otis P. Driftwood....yuk, yuk...)

           Having already raped and chopped up a batch of cheerleaders, the Fireflies go about their business of serving up similar services to the newly arrived carload bunch. 

            Moment of deep irony:  Universal, the film original distributor, dropped it as a sludge too far, but continues to use the film as an inspirations for its Halloween season theme park festivities....

             Moving right along, in The Devil's Rejects (2005) the gang hits the road when their latest homestead is raided by the enraged-to-the-point-of-mania Sheriff Wydell (William Forsythe), seeking revenge for his brother slaughtered in the previous film. 

              They stop at a seedy motel long enough to torture and butcher the other guests......but then they run afoul of the vengeful Wydell, who's employed his own pair of freelance maniacs, including that forever grindhouse favorite, Danny Trejo. Making a desperate escape via Cadillac convertible, they're met by an army of cops, who promptly perforate them with twice the bullet holes pumped into Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway at the end of "Bonnie And Clyde" 

             From that finale, you'd think that's the very end of the Firelies....but think again....heh, heh, heh..

             In the trilogy's finale (?), "3 From Hell" (2019), writer-director Zombie must put a lot of faith in modern medicine, since he asks an audience to believe that the loony gore-meisters survived and recovered from those 3000 bullet wounds........ and now sit in prison.

              Yeah.....right.

              Since an ailing, soon to pass away Sid Haig, could only make a brief early appearance as Captain Spaulding. further slaying duties fell to Winslow Foxworth Coltrane (Richard Brake) Along with Otis (Bill Mosely) and perpetually manic Baby Firefly (Sheri Moon Zombie), they easily escape prison to litter up the film with more carnage,

              Zombie goes to the outer edges of patience-testing with the film's long, long third act, with the gang seeking refuge across the border in Mexico. Once there, they engage in an epic bloodbath firefight with a Mexican gang all outfitted as Lucha Libre wrestlers.  No doubt inspired by the shootouts in "The Wild Bunch" and "Extreme Prejudice", Zombie drags this episode out for nearly an eternity, 

         And any viewers who've become, over course of the trilogy,uer454tfgb  increasingly annoyed at Sheri Moon Zombie's junior high school level overacting, will likely suffer far worse than the shot-up-to-hell Luchadors. 

              There's simply no middle ground in assessing these three films. Either you fully embrace Rob Zombie's puerile, cartoon-ish approach to horror or you'll feel like you're stuck in the lowest of the low carnival sideshow that never ends. 

             For those who dig this stuff, I'd guess 3 stars (***) apiece for each of the three films....

             For those who don't, take heed from this BQ warning....consider each film more than earns their status as an AFH...each a gold plated ABOMINATION FROM HELL.  

              So no hooray for Captain Spaulding.......

            

WEEKEND MADNESS WRAP-UP....SPECIAL "WELCOME TO UNDER THE BUS' EDITION.....

 Trump trashes Kaleigh McEneny, taking offense at her supposed misquoting of his poll number. His new Junior High School nickname for his former Press Secretary, who repeated and loyally lied for him....'Kayleigh 'Milktoast' McEnany'.....McEmamy immediately received a bill for membership dues required to join the "Thrown Under The Bus Club"    large organization comprised of former Trump minions, suck-ups, sycophants, grifters and assorted hangers-on......

'COMA' ....DR. CRICHTON AND DR. COOK WILL SEE YOU NOW.....

Coma (1978).... still holds up fairly well as an efficient suspenseful thriller.

                    How could it not?  Just like death and taxes, mortal fear of going to the hospital remains eternal.....

                    And who better to make our worst medical nightmares come true than two M. Ds.....writer-director Michael Crichton ("Jurassic Park" ) and best selling author Robin Cook, who specialized in hair-raising page turners about the horrors and dangers of the latest in medicine. 

                    The two docs will check you in to Boston Memorial Hospital....whether you check out again is debatable. It seems that some of the routine surgeries of otherwise healthy patients go terrible awry, leaving them brain dead.  Then these poor suckers. reduced to veggies. get shipped off to the mysterious remote Jefferson Institute. Overseen by a creepy Nurse Ratched wanna-be Mrs. Emerson (Elizabeth Ashley, it's a  forbidding corporate fortress where the barely alive bods hang on wires like a fresh meat cafeteria.  But unbeknownst to their loved ones, they're only hangin' out (literally) for the harvesting of their still vital organs to the highest bidders,. 

                    Yikes. And double yikes.......

                     Fear not! Plucky, feisty surgical resident Dr. Wheeler (Genivieve Bujold), smells a rat, especially when one of her best friends comes out of minor surgery turned into  a veggie organ buffet. But in turning herself into  Doc Nancy Drew to get to the bottom of things, she pisses off all her colleagues, earning disbelief and gentle, patronizing rebukes from Chief Of Surgery Dr. Harris (Richard Widmark.) and her on-and-off boyfriend, fellow doctor Mark Bellows (Michael Douglas, killing time in a worthless role).

                    Doc Wheeler really confirms there's evil afoot, when yet  another prime specimen (young Tom Selleck!) ends up in on the veggie pile. Off she goes to sneak into the insidious Institute for a peek at the body inventory.  Before Mrs. Emerson and  security can nab her, she cleverly escapes, having already dodged a hitman who chased her around the hospital.

                     But ,as we knew it would happen, our dauntless doc runs afoul of the film's true villain and finds herself in a sudden stupor and.....uh-oh...prepped for surgery, on her way to the O. R. temple of doom. 

                      I always found this movie loads of fun to watch. Michael Crichton was no Hitchcock for sure, but he knew his modern medicine, knew how it could scare the crap out of you and did a competent enough job of effectively putting it all on film. 

                      By today's standards, the climax might come across as rushed, corny and condescending to its female lead.....(you start to realize there's little difference between Bujold's peril and those women tied to railroad tracks in silent films.....)

                    But with this attractive, talented and veteran cast (including Rip Torn as a crabby coroner), it remains entertaining and highly watchable. 4 stars (****) (extra bonus - a Jerry Goldsmith score) Grab you popcorn and thermometer.......