Frivolous spending in Best Buy's DVD section = X-E movie review.
I can't fault Shark Swarm for being what it is — a lightweight "shark attack" movie produced for the Hallmark Channel without much gore or many frights. It was constructed as the world's first "shark attack" family movie; a genre which doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, but is actually sorta cool in a roundabout, alternate universe kind of way.
It's just that I had no idea about any of that when I bought the Shark Swarm DVD this week. I thought it was going to be a soulless, hopeless, blood and tits direct-to-DVD shitfest, and boy was I wrong. (Judging from the DVD cover, I don't think you could blame me for having this assumption.) While watching it last night, it took me a while to figure out that all of the random fadeouts and lack of cussing meant that it was originally a TV movie.
The film follows a predictable formula, which isn't to say that it's not convoluted. Recalling the plot from memory alone, it went something like this: Evil developer wants to buy a small fishing town and transform it into an elite, upscale community filled with ritzy condominiums. To help persuade the locals into selling their homes, he dumps toxins into the water to poison the fish and ruin their only steady stream of income. Stay with me, here. As a byproduct of the toxins and lack of fish, the sharks go bananas and start working in unison, hunting like pack wolves and eating everyone they can get their teeth into. They stole my idea!!
The town's only hope lies with a few characters played by people you would recognize — John Schneider and Daryl Hannah, namely. Interestingly, I spent the whole movie thinking that the person playing Daryl Hannah's character looked an awful lot like Daryl Hannah, but I never quite made it to the conclusion that it actually was Daryl Hannah. Imagine my surprise when I inspected the DVD case closer, and right there in big letters, there it was: DARYL HANNAH.
There's some charm to the film, but I don't think I can recommend it. Since it was created as a two-part TV movie, it's needlessly long at 164 minutes. That's over two and a half hours, and it's important to note that the sharks factor into maybe ten minutes of that. Thus, it becomes a film with that intangible "movie that WILL NOT END" syndrome, and believe me when I say that you'll be ready to cash out long before it gets interesting.
The sharks, for their part, are pretty bleh. During the shots where we just see sharks randomly swimming around, the CG is pretty good. (Yes, it's all CG — I honestly don't believe they used a single piece of actual stock shark footage, let alone a custom scene with real sharks. They even excluded the patented fake-fin-above-water trick.)
It's when the sharks attack that the problems start. For one, we rarely see the sharks actually bite anything. They always cut away to a reaction shot before that happens, or they do an instant time lapse to go from Point A (shark roving towards its meal) to Point B (fifty gallons of Cherry Gatorade dumped into the water). The same shots of sharks lunging in for the kill are repeated throughout the movie, too.
But the biggest problem is that everyone spends most of the film completely unaware of the shark swarm, despite the near dozen scenes of sharks yanking people into the water and eating them. (The sharks usually performed this by biting onto a rope that the victim was holding and dragging him or her in…there are a LOT of ropes in this movie.) These random shark attack scenes are hilarious, and completely without context. Shark Swarm is largely about six or seven characters, but since they can't get eaten by sharks or even know about the sharks too soon, most of the kill scenes act as fifteen-second transitions. Like, you're watching a lunch scene with Daryl Hannah and The Dukes of Hazzard guy, and then they cut to a scene where a shark eats a nameless skin diver, and then they cut to Daryl and The Dukes of Hazzard guy eating dinner. There's a lot of that.
If I hadn't already drawn the conclusion that Shark Swarm was an experiment in making a shark attack movie where the sharks are of almost no consequence, my theory would be that Shark Swarm was produced as the world's first intentional drinking game movie. One swig if the random victim manages a line or two before getting eaten, two swigs if not. Three if the scene involves a shark eating someone whose face is never shown. It's a good thing I watched Shark Swarm with my nephew, otherwise I'd be in the hospital today.
Despite this, there's stuff to like in the film. I enjoyed seeing all of these vaguely familiar faces who clearly understood that they had shit roles in a shit movie, desperately trying to rise above it and somehow succeeding. This isn't one of those TV movies that makes you feel bad for stars who were once much bigger stars, but rather, it's one of those films where you know the people in it cakewalked their way through production, had fun and wrote the whole ordeal off as a paid vacation. It's not that they seem bored or "iffy" about their roles, it's that they acted with a nice lightheartedness that surely fit a film featuring twelve scenes where sharks yank people into the water to eat them…not to mention the fact that they were working from a script that called for a grandmother and a local, non-denominational pastor to fall in love. (There's twelve scenes for the sharky yanks…thirteen for Granny and God.)
I'm a little torn on Shark Swarm. I know I can't recommend that you buy the DVD, because this is a film that was so firmly built as a lazy TV movie that you'd feel awfully stupid paying for it. A rental, maybe, but I still think it was meant to be watched on regular TV with only half of your interest vested.
On the other hand, there's enough stupid shit in here to satisfy the bad movie lover in anyone. There's shark ray guns that make sharks forget that they're hungry and swim away. There's a climactic scene where the heroes must interrupt a baptism ceremony at sea before the sharks can eat everyone, even though the guests were standing in water that was only up to their ankles. There's a scene where one of the lesser heroes gets shot STRAIGHT IN THE CHEST, but manages to have a two-minute, calm goodbye conversation with The Dukes of Hazzard guy before finally dying.
If they trimmed Shark Swarm down to 90 minutes, it could be my favorite movie ever.
Special bonus Murphy's Law thingamajig:
I bought Shark Swarm and Lake Placid 2 at the same time. Haven't watched the latter film yet, but I just noticed that the aforementioned Dukes of Hazzard guy is the star of both movies. Something about that scares me. Is it coincidence, or have I just never realized that I'm John Schneider's #1 fan?
I've written about Hi-C Ecto-Cooler around 700 times now, but despite my glowing praise, a few readers have pointed out a very dark fact: In an early X-E article, I said that Ecto-Cooler was a putrid, vile concoction that became successful only on the merits of having Slimer on its packaging.
I was exaggerating for humor's sake at the time, because saying things in extreme terms is hilarious. Still, Ecto-Cooler was far from my favorite Hi-C flavor, and it's also true that I never would've wanted it had Ecto-Cooler not been thematically tied to Slimer. I was always more of a Ssips Iced Tea kinda guy, anyway.
But on the heels of Ecto-Cooler, King Hi-C realized that some of his other flavors stood to benefit from goofy mascot characters. Slimer's success paved way for a parade of insane mascots and flavor names that took Hi-C far, far away from the "natural" themes of its earlier offerings. One of my favorites from this new frontier was a bright red, strawberry-flavored ditty called "Boppin' Berry."
As a firm believer that anything made to taste like fake strawberries is better than anything not made to taste like fake strawberries, Boppin' Berry was totally up my alley. It was really about the flavor — a gorgeous, overly sweet juicy juice packing jusssst enough tart to follow each sip up with a pleasant lip smack. Still, I don't think Boppin' Berry's mascot hurt matters any. Take a look at that guy — an anthropomorphic strawberry, wearing sunglasses, rooted in a bed of piano keys. Wasn't that one of the bosses from Nintendo's Stinger?
Eh, in truth, I think my palette (not in the food sense) has needed to mature over the years to truly appreciate the Boppin' Berry Piano-Playing Strawberry-Head for the god that he is. Doubt that I was totally in love with the guy in my youth, mainly because I was already past the age where it was acceptable to find cartoony mascots "cute." Now I'm older, and I know better. I won't go so far to say that the Boppin' Berry Piano-Playing Strawberry-Head has the makings for a perfect tattoo, but that's only because I know it's an idea I should keep to myself.
As for the drink itself, it was pretty phenomenal. And very, very red. Much redder than the photo suggests, as you're seeing food dye that's had almost fifteen years to lose its luster. The "fifteen years" thing also explains my hesitance to try Boppin' Berry one last time.
PS: Don't ask me why I have a sealed 9-pack (well, 8-pack now) of Boppin' Berry leftover from 1995. I don't have to explain myself to you. Especially when I'm ticked that I can never watch The Golden Girls again.
In 1989, my mother chaperoned a trip for my friends and I go to see No Holds Barred. No Holds Barred starred Hulk Hogan, who essentially played himself, fighting for freedom against the twin terrors of corporate soullessness and a giant, dark-skinned monster named "Zeus." It was all very Shakespearean.
I'm very conscious of the fact that No Holds Barred is one of the worst movies ever made, featuring everything from shady Cadillac drivers shitting themselves to Rob Lowe's sidekick from Wayne's World somehow managing to electrocute himself in protest of a wrestling match's outcome. Still, No Holds Barred was spirited if nothing else, and as a ten-year-old with a bucket of popcorn and a bunch of fellow wrestling nuts, I had a great time.
Only thing is, I made my mother sit like ten rows behind us, by herself. My crew wanted to maintain the illusion that we went to the theater on our own. I guess the cool kids were doing it.
That must rank among the top ten cruelest things I've ever done. It's bad enough that I roped my mother into seeing No Holds Barred, but to force her to pretend that she went to see it by herself? Beyond cruel. I probably extended my purgatory sentence by a good seven years on that afternoon alone.
This is your random survey of the night: Discuss some of your weirdest movie theater experiences. I have plenty of them, and will post a few in the comments once I zzz zzz zzz myself back to full health.
You can count me among the stupid idiots who still haven't seen The Dark Knight. I'm honestly embarrassed about this. I fear all water cooler discussion at work tomorrow, though I suppose I could fudge my way through it with such vaguely defined gems as, "I loved that scene near the end with the Joker," or "yeeeah man it was even better than the first one!" SO clever. Like, Darkman-level self-appropriated cleverness.
Still, my geek cred has not been totally shot to shit. I just picked up this sweet (literally lol) box of Reese's Puffs cereal, arriving with a pretty great premium: A Batman Stunt Figure!
In terms of "free inside" cereal promotions, this is one of the best I've seen in recent years. Recalling the youthful thrill of digging my grimy hands through cereal that was meant for the entire family, searching desperately for a toy I'd lose interest in ten minutes later…yeah, I think a Batman Stunt Figure fits that template. Things like this make me want to knock up the woman just so I'd be able to see my boy's face when he found out that his cereal came with BATMAN. Would it be wrong to adopt a son, let him have cereal, and give him back right afterwards?
The back of the box confirms that there are four figures in all to collect — two Batmans and two Jokers. Obviously, the Joker figures are the chasers. I don't care if you're the biggest Batfan in the history of DC Comics…you know you want a free Joker figure more than a free Batman figure.
I've never been a big Batman fan at all. Hate the fucker, actually. But I looooove all the guys he fights, and Mr. Joker tops that list. Suffice to say, if I put my hand in this box of Reese's Puffs and pull out a stupid Batman, I will be forced to saw off my foot and eat it. Disappointment manifests itself in mysterious ways.
Looks like it's time to do the deed. With crossed fingers and intestinal butterflies, I will now rip into my Reese's Puffs, and if the gods favor me, I will become richer one Joker figure. Wish me luck and count to three… [more]
Gremlins is one of my favorite movies ever, and that's been a fact since the first time I saw it, on a cassette rental from a long-closed Mom & Pop video store. The dichotomy was to die for: Gremlins boasted the cutest thing I'd ever seen in a movie and the most terrifying things I'd ever seen in a movie. Hell, I was only five.
The film's world firmly seeped into mine. I was completely obsessed with Gizmo, and dreamt of owning my own mogwai on a nearly nightly basis. And the gremlins? I totally heeded Rand Peltzer's voiceover warning from the end of the movie, becoming unnaturally wary of washing machines in dark rooms, kitchen cabinets…the whole nine yards.
I clamored for anything and everything Gremlins. I had a Gizmo plush doll, plastic figure, the cereal, the books, the audio books, the sticker books, every other possible version of "the books," and even posters. Anything I could get my hands on. The film didn't pave way for an incredible heap of toys, but there was enough out there to bring Gremlins into my life in ways far more tangible than those frequent daydreams about covering my new pet mogwai with bandages.
It's likely my love all things Gremlins that's made me unable to forget what I'm about to show you, but make no mistake: Running horrific shots of marauding gremlins during children's television was going to leave a mark even if the particular kid wasn't a Gizmo nut.
Yes, after years of talking about it, a reader sent me the famous Gremlins drunk driving public service announcement. (Probably yanked from YouTube, but hey, there's plenty on YouTube yanked from here.) Like that skeleton-themed drunk driving PSA I wrote about some time back, this one was aired super often and burned permanent scars into every organ of my body capable of being affected by it.
While the aforementioned "skeleton spot" made me afraid to drink any liquids period while inside of an automobile, the Gremlins version was just flat out scary. In it, Mr. Wing and Gizmo (happily reunited despite my eternal protests that Billy should've kept the damn thing) are hanging out in Wing's dank antique shop, and Gizmo's in for a lecture about teen drinking and drunk driving. Man. I could think of plenty of decent target demos for a lecture like that, but I just cannot count mogwais among them. Still, Gizmo seems interested enough, offering cute yelps to let his mutant grandfather know that he totally gets what he's saying.
As Mr. Wing talks about teens drinking and driving, we cut to several scenes from Gremlins, which coincidentally featured a few sequences where the gremmies drink, drive, crash and die. It seems impossible that I was ever afraid of these guys, but I was. Especially when they popped onto the television from out of nowhere while I was watching weekday afternoon cartoons. When it came to Gremlins, I needed time to prepare myself.
The old man decides to up the ante with a declaration against teen drug use, and to footnote that, we get the scariest shot from the whole movie: Stripe, post-sunlight attack, flopping out of the fountain with his flesh melted and his eyes transformed into picked eggs. Whatever courage that old blanket of ours provided when I first watched Gremlins on video was completely eradicated by that shot. I hated that shot. And I really hated it having it thrown at me during commercial breaks for Bugs Bunny or whatever the fuck I was watching.
The PSA ran fairly frequently and, to a five-year-old, it was a complete mindfuck. Even by today's standards, it wouldn't be typical to see gremlin-related gooey carnage on afternoon children's television. I can only imagine how much scarier this must've been for kids who hadn't seen the movie, and thus had no way of knowing that the little monsters' destructive outbursts generally led to violence of a more off-screen kind.
As was the case with many of the PSAs I watched as a kid, the message got lost. Drunk driving and drugs were bad, sure, but all I really came away from this with was the reaffirmation that Stripe was scary and that Gizmo had to be mine.
Gremlins-era Gizmo was so much more adorable than Gremlins 2-era Gizmo.
Bah, this shit's ridiculous. I've been seeing commercials for this Burger King "Club BK" kids' meal starring Pikachu and Apple Fries for a while now, and it seemed like just the type of neoclassic Happy Meal worth blogging about. I realize that Burger King doesn't make Happy Meals, but you know what I mean.
I expected the world, but what I got back was this sad, boring bag, with a Pokemon toy haphazardly shoved in with overcooked fries and crown-shaped chicken tenders. They didn't have Apple Fries in stock, which is kind of unbelievable. If there's one thing I'd never expect anyone to sell out of, it's APPLE FRIES.
That isn't what's bothering me, though. What really bugs me is the total lack of customized packaging. There's no "experience" to this.
BACK IN MY DAY, the Happy Meal was as much about its flashy bravado as its toys and cheeseburgers. Was there a single kid in the country who didn't at least try to keep the house-shaped Happy Meal box in perfect working order throughout their meal, free of folds and fry oil? Hell, a good many of us, myself included, went so far as to take those boxes home with us, working under the idea that we'd keep them forever and ever. We never did, but the fun was in the notion that we could.
Those Happy Meal boxes, with their colorful artwork and random puzzles, were as much a part of the filthy food experience as anything else. When McDonald's began phasing out the boxes in favor of less-artful bags, I was sad, but at least the bags still had the same gamut of illustrations and puzzles…albeit less colorful ones.
But this?! An unrelated bag lacking any kind of kiddy theme? APPALLED.
To protest, I refuse to acknowledge the neat holographic Prinplup card or the Pokemon-themed card holder it came with. Take that, BK.
In anti-celebration of this disappointing turn of events, I'd like to institute a new survey. In the comments, talk about your favorite Happy Meal toy ever. Yes, the free toys you got from other fine greasy food establishments are totally fine to talk about, too.
On the plus side: If getting pissed about the quality level of a Burger King "Club BK" kids' meal is the worst thing that happened to me today, I think I'm still in the black.
Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008
Posted by Matt @ 7:47 pm [Permalink] [77 Comments]
