Rest in Peace, Tab Hunter

Tab Hunter (1931-2018)

THE JURASSIC DEAD is a Thing

Starring Cooper Elliot, Andy Haman, Mia Klosterman, Ben Johnson, Adam Singer, Ruselis Aumeen Perry, Raquel Pennington, Shale Le Page, Nicole Goeke. Directed by Milko Davis & Thomas Martwick. (2017/82 min). 

AVAILABLE ON DVD FROM 
WILD EYE RELEASING

Review by Josey, the Sudden Cat😸

From the director of Tsunambee and the studio that brought you Shark Exorcist comes the epic mash-up you've been waiting for. So why are you still reading this? If the title doesn't tell you all you need to know, perhaps you're already familiar with some of Wild Eye Releasing's crazy catalog.

That being said, The Jurassic Dead more-or-less delivers on the promise of its title, with a plot so absolutely bonkers it makes your typical mockbuster from The Asylum look like a Merchant Ivory film. For example, In the first ten minutes alone:

• A scientist is forced at-gunpoint to inject a re-animating serum into a dead T-Rex, which springs to life and kills everyone but the scientist. No, it is never explained where an extinct dinosaur came from.
• In the very next scene, that same scientist, Dr. Wojick Borge, is fired from his teaching position for re-animating a dead cat during class. Afterwards, Borge gets pancaked by a car.
• Borge turns out to be a special kind of crazy, making Herbert West look like Marcus Welby.
• We meet a batch of mercenaries hired to take-out Borge, who is somewhere in the desert. We also meet four young morons heading down the same highway, one of whom is sporting the worst wig in movie history.
• A meteor hits Earth, creating an EMP that shuts everything down...except for a CGI helicopter, which safely lands before inexplicably exploding.

But don't worry kids...it'll all make sense in the end...sort-of. The mercenaries and kids end up trapped in a fortified facility run by the demented Dr. Borge, who now resembles a wheelchair-bound cross between Immortan Joe and Darth Sidious. Borge plans to nuke major cities before unleashing his herd on undead dinosaurs on the world. Before that, however, he turns a zombie T-Rex loose on his trespassers. In my favorite scene, a mercenary meathead drops his weapons and knocks-out the beast with a few punches (as though scrapping with dinosaurs comes with the job). But they soon discover you can't a good - or dead - T-Rex down. It continues to mosey throughout the facility, chomping down the cast, who then become zombies themselves.

An tender moment in The Jurassic Dead.

As to be expected, the special effects are suitably terrible, with nearly every scene looking like it was performed in front of a green screen (even when it doesn't appear to be necessary). In fact, you'll often notice the background can't hold completely still. T-Rex himself (the only dinosaur in the film) is an amusing creation, mostly the work of puppeteers. Characters behave stupidly, scenes change with almost no transition and everything comes to a ridiculous climax.

But you probably already know this, which ultimately makes The Jurassic Dead a hard movie not to enjoy (even the opening & closing credits are funny...both intentionally and unintentionally). Say what you will about its bargain-basement production values, shake your head in disbelief at the laugh-inducing dialogue & cringe-worthy performances, but one accusation you can't level at the film is that it's boring.

You gotta appreciate the sheer exuberance on display here. While not entirely serious in tone, it's mostly free of the cynicism that tends to suck the joy out of similar movies. We're almost certain this is the best they could do on both sides of the camera. Only a goofy post-credits scene suggests anything resembling self-awareness. So, hey...why not?

EXTRA KIBBLES:

LOADS OF WILD EYE TRAILERS - You don't wanna miss these.

KITTY CONSENSUS:

A GOOFY GOOD TIME

A QUIET PLACE in Horror History

Starring Emily Blunt, John Krasinski, Millicent Simmonds, Noah Jupe. Directed by John Krasinski. (2018/90 min).

AVAILABLE ON BLU-RAY FROM

PARAMOUNT

Review by Josey, the Sudden Cat🙀

If nothing else, the first ten minutes of A Quiet Place might be the most masterful opening to any horror film ever made. With no dialogue, music or exposition, the audience learns almost everything they need about the apocalyptic implications of the film's central idea and meets every character essential to the narrative...all before the opening title. Had the film been a short subject and ended right there, it would still come to a shocking, satisfying conclusion. The whole sequence is a triumph of minimalist storytelling.

Fortunately, A Quiet Place is just warming up.

In the not-to-distant future, the world has been subjected to a global cataclysm in which vicious, horrific creatures - mostly unseen until the final act - have decimated most of the population. Completely blind, they are drawn by sound, attracted to even the most minuscule noise. Worse yet, they're strong, agile and lightning fast; victims are usually dead before they even knew what hit them.

The story focuses on the Abbott family, who've adapted to survive in silence at a remote farmhouse, though not without tragedy. Their youngest son, Beau, was killed by the creatures, which deaf older sister Regan (Millicent Simmons) still blames herself for. The father, Lee (John Krasinski), spends most of his days trying to contact others through computers and a radio, while also teaching his son, Marcus (Noah Jupe), survival tips and constructing an effective hearing aid for Regan. His wife, Evelyn (Emily Blunt), has-since become pregnant. As the due date nears, the family prepares by trying to sound-proof the basement.

When more trick-or-treaters show up, and you're all out of candy.

The Abbotts' daily routine makes up the bulk of the first half. Life is a challenge, of course, and the film does a tremendous job reminding the viewer what a typically noisy species people are. To go through life making no sound at all - or face dire consequences - makes the entire story fraught with tension, even during the supposedly routine moments.

Not everything is hunky-dory with the Abbotts, either. Regan harbors resentment towards her dad, feeling like he also holds her responsible for Beau's death. Indeed, it does often seem as though Lee doesn't completely trust her, leaving her behind while he takes Marcus on food gathering expeditions (even though the prospect terrifies the boy). Their relative estrangement sets-up the film's most poignant moment later on.

I remember seeing A Quiet Place in theaters and marveling at how the overwhelming silence in the film encouraged the same from the audience. Hardly anyone dared even crunch their popcorn for fear of breaking the tension, which wouldn't have happened if the film weren't so consistently engaging. Not only is the premise completely unique (how often can you say that about a horror film these days?), it's smart, suspenseful and thoroughly exploits the oppressive silence to great effect, intensifying the dread and obligatory jump-scares. And the monsters, of course, are terrifically nasty creations.

Unlike many recent horror films which generate brief amounts of hype and praise before the next one comes along, I suspect we'll still be talking about A Quiet Place a decade from now. It has the hallmarks of other stand-alone classics of the genre: scary, totally original, lots of fun and definitely worth repeated viewings. On a related note, I sincerely hope they change their minds about doing a sequel (which has already been announced). A premise like this is truly effective only once.

EXTRA KIBBLES

FEATUETTES: "Creating the Quiet" (behind-the-scenes documentary); "The Sound of Darkness"; "A Reason for Silence" (visual effects, mostly related to the creature).

DVD & DIGITAL COPIES

KITTY CONSENSUS:

MEE-OW! LIKE TAUNTING A MOUSE TO DEATH

A CIAMBRA: Life on the Fringes

Starring Pio Amato, Koudous Seihon, Damiano Amato, Francesco Pio Amato, Iolanda Amato, Patrizia Amato, Rocco Amato, Susanna Amato. Directed by Jonas Carpignano. (2017/119 min).

AVAILABLE ON BLU-RAY FROM

MPI HOME VIDEO

Review by Fluffy the Fearless😺

The Amatos are a large, multi-generational family of gypsies living in Romani. Pio, a street-smart 14-year-old, idolizes his older brother, Cosimo, who helps support the family by stealing anything he can get his hands on, then selling it to Italian mobsters or local African refugees. When Cosimo gets caught and arrested - along with his father - Pio takes tries to become the man of the family, boosting cars, stealing luggage and fencing whatever he finds.

Though he talks & acts tough - smoking, drinking and hanging out at the same bars Cosimo did - Pio is still just an impressionable boy and, despite some car-boosting tips from his brother, quite naive and inexperienced. He comes to rely on help from Cosimo's African friend, Ayiva (Koudous Seihun), to fence whatever he manages to steal.

Guess who took the last roll.

Eventually, circumstances force Pio to make some extraordinarily difficult choices between friendship and family, and clinging to what's left of his childhood versus a life like his brother's, which he'll likely never be able to leave. These quandaries are the crux of A Ciambra, though the story takes a considerable amount of time getting there. A great deal of the film focuses of Pio - who's in nearly every scene - and the world he's been raised in. He's not a particularly nice kid, or even outwardly likable. However, Pio's obviously a product of his environment, and though he seldom shows it outwardly, his love for his family is repeatedly demonstrated through his actions, questionable as they are.

The most interesting aspect of A Ciabra is that the Amatos are a real family playing fictionalized versions of themselves. They actually live in that ramshackle house in the very village most of the film takes place. That writer/director Jonas Carpignano manages to get authentic, convincing performances out of all of them is quite remarkable (a stunt Clint Eastwood failed to do with The 15:17 to Paris). Pio himself is particularly impressive, able to carry most of the movie's emotional weight on his inexperienced shoulders.

Reservoir Pups.

The episodic narrative does meander quite a bit. Just because what we're seeing looks, sounds and feels authentic - augmented by intimate hand-held camera work - doesn't mean it's always interesting. Pio's relationship with Ayiva is engaging, but hanging out with the Amatos - especially his siblings - is sometimes an endurance test. However, the third act, particularly the very last shot, packs a hefty emotional punch.

Well-intentioned and occasionally revealing, A Ciambra is certainly worth checking out, as it takes a unique approach in showing us a culture that exists on the fringes of society. Considering his age and experience, Pio Amato is also quite a revelation. But its inconsistent pacing, not-to-mention an overall air of hopelessness that hangs over the proceedings, probably discourages repeated viewings.

EXTRA KIBBLES

"A CIAMBRA: THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STORY" - Revealing behind-the-scenes documentary.

FEATURETTE - "From A Ciambra to Cannes"

DELETED SCENES

SHORT: "YOUNG LIONS FOR GYPSY" - This was the basis for the feature film.

TRAILER

KITTY CONSENSUS:

NOT BAD. LIKE CAT CHOW.

THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY (1945) Will Never Hang in My House

Starring George Sanders, Hurd Hatfield, Lowell Gilmore, Donna Reed, Angela Lansbury, Peter Lawford, Richard Fraser, Douglas Walton. Directed by Albert Lewin. (1945/110 min). 

AVAILABLE ON BLU-RAY FROM 

WARNER ARCHIVE COLLECTION

Essay by D.M. ANDERSON🙀

It takes a hell of a lot to truly scare me anymore.

It ain't like when I was a kid and damn near everything terrified me. A few grotesqueries on my long list of nightmare fuel were spiders, lava, quicksand, the dark, large bugs, my neighbor's dog, slugs, monsters, holiday nutcrackers, the high-dive, Grandma's basement, bees, Mom's tomato aspic and entering a dark room without first reaching in to flip-on the light switch.

Some of those fears were groundless, while others grew and festered from personal experience...or movies I watched, such as The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Every summer, my parents used to ship my sister and I to Grandma's for a week or two. She had a old house in Prosser, Washington, a town just big enough to require a traffic light at its lone intersection. While I loved my grandma, she was only able keep us entertained for so long before leaving us to amuse ourselves. My sister and I often played in the basement, where Grandma and Grandpa used to entertain guests before he passed away. There was a full bar, piano, card table, dartboard, television, bookshelves and an ancient console stereo with a massive collection of 78 RPM records. We spent many summer afternoons pretending we were bar owners.

The basement was also where Grandma kept old treasures she couldn't bring herself to get rid of. Rummaging through the numerous storage closets was like going on an archaeological expedition and discovering relics from ancient civilizations. I once stumbled upon Grandpa's collection of Playboy magazines, with issues dating back to the 1950s. At that age, I was less interested in what those old issues were actually worth than gazing in dumbstruck awe at the timeless glory of the female anatomy.

Unless we wanted to share Grandma's love for Days of Our Lives and The Mike Douglas Show, we watched TV down there, too. One time, my sister happened to be engrossed in The Picture of Dorian Gray. I didn't really share her love of old movies at the time - especially black & white ones - so I wasn't paying much attention...at least until the titular painting appeared onscreen for the first time.

Portrait of a Young Douchebag.

In the movie, Dorian Gray (Hurd Hatfield) is a meek, impossibly handsome young aristocrat who poses for a painting by Basil Hallward (Lowell Gilmore). Having captured Gray perfectly, Basil considers it his masterpiece. Also present at the unveiling is Lord Henry Wotton (George Sanders), a cynical cad whose hedonism is renowned around town. Wotton flippantly informs Gray that he'll someday succumb to the ravages of age, but this portrait will retain his youth & beauty forever. Gray openly wishes the opposite were true, which is somehow granted by a mysterious Egyptian statue that happens to be within earshot.

Unfortunately, Gray is gullible and easily influenced by Wotton, becoming a narcissistic douche in the process. His first act of cruelty is viciously dumping the girl he loves (a very young Angela Lansbury), who kills herself the next day. Over the years, Gray remains as youthful as ever, which everyone in the community finds unnerving. The painting, however, depicts him as the monster he's turned into, his once-beautiful image growing increasingly grotesque with every sin he commits, which eventually includes murder. To keep his secret, Gray hides the horrific portrait in a locked room.

Something for the baby's room.

Looking like something from a Cannibal Corpse album cover, the painting is presented in full color at key moments, heightening its shock value and scaring the shit out of me. Hell, Dorian's face was kind-of unnerving before his image began morphing into a monster.

I found The Picture of Dorian Gray truly terrifying, the first movie I remember giving me nightmares. Furthermore, Grandma's basement was suddenly a scary place, especially since many of the walls were adorned with replicas of similar old paintings, the creepiest one being a couple of cherub-faced children staring back at me. With only one ground-level window, the basement was already dimly-lit, even with lights on. But with my new-found fear of ancient portraits, I refused to ever go down there again once the sun went down.

So old paintings joined my long list of childhood fears. Not that I crapped myself whenever I saw one, but I found them intimidating, particularly when used as horror fodder. An especially terrifying Night Gallery episode featured Roddy McDowell as a spoiled punk who inherits the family estate after killing his ailing uncle. Then he notices that an old painting of the family graveyard starts changing. First, there's a freshly-dug grave, then an open casket containing his dead uncle, followed by a corpse shambling toward the the mansion. The last shot of the painting shows the corpse at the door. By then, McDowell's character has gone completely mad and yours truly was covering his eyes in horror.

As a heavy metal fan, some of the artists I listen to write horror-based songs to go with their image. Much of the time, it's either tongue-in-cheek or supremely goofy, especially the stuff from the 80s. But the one song that I found truly scary was the title track from King Diamond's album, Fatal Portrait. The song tells the story of a fanatical, abusive mother who's obsessed with painting a portrait of her young daughter, Molly. She keeps the child locked in the attic, and with every stroke she paints, Molly grows weaker until she finally dies. But her spirit re-awakens in the painting, seeking revenge on her terrified mother. The lyrics, coupled with the album's cover art, were really creepy.

Dorian Gray's little sister, Doris.

With age comes wisdom, of course, and most of my old childhood fears seem silly and quaint now (except spiders, because fuck spiders). Today, I'm more preoccupied by decidedly "adult" terrors: tax season, climate change, the thought of my in-laws moving in, my daughter's first date, unexplained lumps, scary engine noises, identity theft, and the big one, an increasing awareness of my own mortality.

Still, it's no small coincidence that absolutely none of the decor in my house has ever consisted of paintings featuring human subjects. In fact, when Grandma passed away years later and the family was dividing what she left behind, I vehemently refused to take home anything from that basement, especially the scary-ass shit on the walls. Mom kept the painting of those cherub children, though, which apparently evoked much fonder memories in her than it did in me.

I'd mostly forgotten how Dorian Gray's painting once traumatized me until recently revisiting the film. Seeing it again, this time with adult eyes, I was able to appreciate the stunning deep-focus cinematography and wonderful performances, especially Sanders as Wotton, who I now realize is the film's true villain. I'm not easily scared by horror movies, anymore, mainly because I've seen so many that I've become somewhat jaded. But even 45 years later, when that hideous painting flashed across the screen in all of its hellish color, it still made me jump.

For over 100 years, Oscar Wilde's original novel has been adapted countless times, but this version remains in a class by itself. It may not be considered a true horror film by some, perhaps because the look and tone more closely resemble a lush period drama. But by being selective with its shocks, we're caught off-guard, rendering its moments of terror all-the-more potent. All these years later, The Picture of Dorian Gray still has the power to inspire dread.

EXTRA KIBBLES

AUDIO COMMENTARY - By Angela Lansbury and Film historian Steve Haberman

"STAIRWAY TO LIGHT" - Live-action dramatization of French physician Phillippe Pinel. Won an Oscar for Best Short Subject.

"QUIET, PLEASE!" - Oscar-winning Tom & Jerry cartoon.

TRAILER

KITTY CONSENSUS:

MEE-OW! LIKE BEING TURNED LOOSE IN A BIRD SANCTUARY

SUPER FLY (1972): A Lesson in Genre History

Starring Ron O'Neal, Carl Lee, Julius W. Harris, Sheila Frazier, Charles McGregor, Curtis Mayfield. Directed by Gordon Parks Jr. (1972/93 min). 

AVAILABLE ON BLU-RAY FROM 
WARNER ARCHIVE COLLECTION

Review by Mr. Paws😸

When reviewing discs, I generally watch the film first, then go through whatever supplementary material is included. For some reason, I did the opposite with 1972's Super Fly, which turned out to be a good idea.

Along with Shaft, this film defined 70's "blaxploitation" in the eyes of many, including myself. It's also not a genre I'm particularly familiar with. And because Super Fly is so emblematic of its time, watching the retrospective documentary in advance provides some valuable context that might help the uninitiated appreciate its influence and cultural impact.

Ron O'Neal is Youngblood Priest, a high-rolling cocaine dealer who plans one more big score before getting out of the business for good, which turns out to be easier said than done. The story itself is actually pretty slight, nearly everything related to his line of work regulated to a photo montage and a few corrupt cops on his tail. Super Fly is more about Priest himself. Cool, tough & stylish, he's pretty-much the whole show, whether romping in a bubble bath with his lady, Georgia (Sheila Frazier), turning the tables on his enemies or cruising around New York in his customized Eldorado (which has since-become as iconic as the film itself).

Obviously assembled on a very low budget, Super Fly's writing, direction and cinematography is merely perfunctory. But compensating for its lack of panache are earnest, lively performances and an absolutely killer soundtrack. O'Neal exudes loads of charisma as Priest, and what more can be said about Curtis Mayfield's music score? Not only do they perfectly enhance every scene, the songs have aged a lot better than the film.

"I think the bullets go in right here, guys."

Super Fly was somewhat controversial when first released, supposedly for glamorizing drug-dealers and exacerbating a negative image of African-Americans. However, the film does not present the drug business as an appealing career choice. Despite his ride & wardrobe, Priest ain't exactly living like Tony Montana, and none of these characters appear to reap the rewards of their lifestyle. In fact, they've more-or-less been denied opportunities to do anything else. There are numerous moments in the film where Priest is told his dream of finally getting out is hopelessly optimistic.

While Shaft is arguably the most entertaining blaxploitation film of the 70s, Super Fly is just as historically important. Four decades on, it may be a bit too grassroots and - amusingly? - outdated for newcomers. That's why Warner Archive was wise to include a generous amount of bonus material for this release (carried over from the original DVD). Knowing its backstory beforehand makes Super Fly a more rewarding experience for anyone curious about the genre.

EXTRA KIBBLES

FEATURETTES - "One Last Deal: A Retrospective" (a terrific documentary that effectively explains Super Fly's historical importance); "Behind the Hog" (Les Dunham discusses the design of Priest's classic car); "Behind the Threads" (Nate Adams still has his plaid suit!)

VINTAGE INTERVIEW - With Ron O'Neal

AUDIO COMMENTARY

TRAILER

KITTY CONSENSUS:

NOT BAD. LIKE CAT CHOW.

Did You Hear the One About the Traveling CHINA SALESMAN?

Starring Dong-Xue Li, Mike Tyson, Steven Seagal, Janicke Askevold, Li Ai, Eriq Ebouaney. Directed by Tan Bing. (2017/110 min).

AVAILABLE ON BLU-RAY FROM

CLEOPATRA ENTERTAINMENT / MVD VISUAL

Review by Tiger the Terrible😼

Tyson vs. Seagal? Not quite.

In one of China Salesman's very first scenes, Steven Seagal and Mike Tyson throw-down in a bar. During this lengthy and destructive brawl, Seagal lands a precision strike to the tip of Tyson's ear, which briefly disorients the ex-heavyweight with incessant ringing. Was this a cheeky allusion to Tyson's infamous ear-biting incident? If so, it's as self-aware as this dumpster fire gets. The rest is unintentional comedy gold.

This initial clash of former titans has zero to do with the actual plot, and it's unclear what triggered the fight to begin with. This scene is also the only time they share the screen. Tyson pops up now and then to glare, blow stuff up and deliver every line like he's severely constipated (and it's obvious he looped much of his dialogue during post-production). But give the man some credit...at least he looks like he's trying. Seagal shows-up even less, nearly always seated behind a desk or bar, slurping wine and mumbling so unintelligibly that one wishes his lines came with subtitles.

"If it's Ladies Night, then where the hell are they?"

Speaking of which, the actual star is Dong-Xue Li as Yan Jian, computer whiz and man-of-action (though he spends most of the film getting his ass handed to him). He represents a Chinese company engaged in a bidding war for a contract to run all telecommunications in an unnamed African country. When Yan and his colleagues are speaking their own language, the subtitles flash across the screen so fast that we can't entirely process what they're saying (and this is where most of the exposition is offered). Li also give the film's worst performance, which is really saying something when we remember who else is in the cast.

The plot is so convoluted that we're only vaguely aware of what's going on at any given time. It basically involves a French spy, Michael, who attempts to win the communications contract by triggering a civil war (!). The narrative often jumps from point A to B with little or no transition, and some scenes have no context whatsoever (out-of-the-blue shower scene, anyone?). There's plenty o' gunplay, chases, explosions and mayhem, but it's not always clear who's fighting who or why. Not only that, several characters change sides without warning or logical explanation.

Certainly expensive looking, China Salesman is the obvious result of many investors with deep pockets (check out the sheer number of company logos preceding the opening titles), but I'm not sure where all that money went (explosives, maybe...there's a lot of 'em). The film is so haphazardly assembled, badly acted, poorly executed and atrociously written that its deadly seriousness renders the whole thing hilarious, culminating in an priceless final scene where Tyson is required to emote way, WAY beyond his abilities. If you ain't rolling on the floor by then, check your pulse.

EXTRA KIBBLES

PROMO REEL

PHOTO GALLERY

KITTY CONSENSUS:

 A REAL HOOT!

ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD First Photo From Set

August 9, 2019

Quentin Tarantino's ninth feature film is a story that takes place in Los Angeles in 1969, at the height of hippy Hollywood. The two lead characters are Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio), former star of a western TV series, and his longtime stunt double Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt). Both are struggling to make it in a Hollywood they don't recognize anymore. But Rick has a very famous next-door neighbor...Sharon Tate.

BLOCKERS: Redefining Overprotective

Starring Leslie Mann, Ike Barinholtz, John Cena, Kathryn Newton, Geraldine Viswanathan, Gideon Adlon, Graham Phillips, Miles Robbins, Jimmy Bellinger, Sarayu Blue, Gary Cole, Gina Gershon, Hannibal Buress, June Diane Raphael. Directed by Kay Cannon. (2018/102 min). 

AVAILABLE ON BLU-RAY/DVD FROM 

UNIVERSAL

Review by Stinky the Destroyer😽

While Blockers is sure to amuse its intended audience, the film doesn't make the most of its premise. The idea of three fiercely overprotective parents going to extremes to stop their daughters from losing their virginity is filled with comedic possibilities. But this is one of those movies where, almost immediately, we can think of how we would have done it differently.

What would have been really funny is if the parents simply mistook their kids' text messages for a sex pact. The extreme measures they take to prevent it could have been a clever and congenial comedy-of-errors just about any parent might relate to. But Julie, Kayla and Sam do indeed plan to lose their virginity on prom night; half of the film consists of the girls partying and puking with their dates. With the exception of Sam, the most insecure member of the gang (and questioning her own sexual identity), none of the teenage characters are particularly interesting. Blockers briefly addresses societal double-standards when it comes to attitudes related to girls' budding sexuality versus boys', but it's late in the film and more of an afterthought.

"From now on, I wrestle in these."

The parents' adventures range from humorously observational to ridiculously over-the-top, with much greater emphasis on the latter. As Mitchell, Kayla's sports-minded father who refuses to acknowledge she's becoming a woman, John Cena is sometimes quite amusing. Considering Cena's physique and WWE history, it's ironic that he's found his niche in comedy. Ike Barinholtz also has some nice moments as Sam's estranged, no-account father, evolving from a supremely obnoxious loser to the most empathetic character in the entire film. However, Julie's mom, Lisa (Leslie Mann), is the polar opposite. A single parent who fears her daughter will make some of the same mistakes she once did, we initially feel for her. But Lisa grows increasingly shrill and unlikable with every scene.

Despite a few fleeting attempts at poignancy, much of the humor in Blockers aims for the crotch, both literally and figuratively. The story is mostly a clothesline on which to hang a series of episodic, raunchy gags that could have been inserted into countless other explicit sex comedies. Some of this is very funny - Gary Cole and Gina Gershon are a riot as a pair of sexually-adventurous parents - some of it isn't. 

I sometimes laughed out-loud, as I imagine a lot of people will. Fans of films such as Neighbors, Girls Trip and Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates won't have any complaints. As these things go, Blockers isn't bad, but considering the cast and inherent potential of the premise, it could have been so much more.

EXTRA KIBBLES

FEATURETTES - "Prom Night"; "Rescue Mission"; "Chug! Chug! Chug!" & "Puke-a-Palozza" (behind-the-scenes of the film's two biggest gross-out gags)

"THE HISTORY OF SEX WITH IKE BARINHOLTZ" and "JOHN CENA'S PROM SURVIVAL KIT FOR PARENTS" - Promotional sketches (Cena appears to be reading cue cards)

DELETED SCENES

GAG REEL

LINE-O-RAMA

AUDIO COMMENTARY - By Director Kay Cannon

DVD & DIGITAL COPIES

KITTY CONSENSUS:

NOT BAD. LIKE CAT CHOW.

SOYLENT GREEN and the Starbucks Solution

Starring Charlton Heston, Edward G. Robinson, Leigh Taylor-Young, Brock Peters, Chuck Connors, Joseph Cotten, Paula Kelly, Stephen Young, Mike Henry, Whit Bissell, Dick Van Patten. Directed by Richard Fleischer. (1973/97 min).

Essay by D.M. ANDERSON

"Soylent Green is peeeople!"

Everybody knows that, just like everybody knows Darth Vader is Luke's old man, Dorothy was only dreaming and Taylor has been on Earth the entire time. So quoting the final line in Soylent Green - memorably moaned by that master of subtlety, Charlton Heston - probably isn't spoiling the party. It isn't like the time I was watching Planet of the Apes on TV when I was 9-years-old and Mom came waltzing into the living room to smugly announce, "You know it's really Earth, right?"

What the fuck, Mom?

I didn't actually say that, of course, because I preferred my ass to be welt-free. The funny thing is, she knew Planet of the Apes' big twist without ever actually seeing the movie herself. That final image of the Statue of Liberty buried in sand became almost instantly iconic (without help from the internet). From that point on, the only people shocked by the film's climax were those fortunate enough to have seen it in 1968...and clueless nine-year-olds catching it for the first time on CBS...hopefully without their spoiler-happy mothers lurking about.

Soylent Green is not as culturally revered as Planet of the Apes, though Charlton Heston was becoming cinema's apocalypse poster boy at the time. The film isn't nearly as much fun, either. In 2022, the world is severely polluted and overpopulated. While the wealthy live in relative comfort in luxurious high-rise apartments (complete with young concubines), most poor bastards dwell in crowded squalor. Suicide, however, is an option. Anyone sick of life can simply show up unannounced at their friendly neighborhood euthanasia clinic and peacefully end it all.

Livestock and crops are nearly non-existent and reserved for those who can afford 150 bucks for a jar of strawberries. Everyone else lives off of government issued crackers, Soylent Red, Soylent Yellow and everyone's new favorite, Soylent Green. In fact, Soylent Green proves to be so popular that people riot when food centers run out.

"Forget it, kid. I'm starting at QB today."

Frank Thorn (Heston) is a cop investigating the murder of a Soylent Corporation bigwig, who was bludgeoned to death in his swanky apartment. With the help of his researcher & roommate, Sol (Edward G. Robinson, in his final film), the investigation leads him to discover the Soylent Corporation's dark secret: the main ingredient of those delectable crackers isn't soy at all, but people who've been processed through the euthanasia clinics.

Soylent Green ain't exactly a feelgood film. In fact, it's downright depressing at times, such as when Sol finally decides to cash-in at one of those clinics. That scene is even more poignant when you realize Robinson was dying of cancer at the time. He and Heston were friends, so their emotions during his deathbed sequence were genuine. Elsewhere, the film is aesthetically drab & grimy, the tone relentlessly downbeat and pessimistic, its environmental message sobering. We're subjected to so much self-perpetuated human misery that when the big twist is finally revealed, perhaps we really aren't all that shocked.

Still, "Soylent Green is people!" more-or-less immortalized the movie, which has left its indelible mark on popular culture. For over four decades now, it has been referenced, name-dropped and parodied in countless films, TV shows and various other media. There's a metal band that took its name from the title. There are numerous Soylent Green food & cocktail recipes. Yours truly even owns a novelty t-shirt advertising Soylent Green cereal ("Now with more REAL PEOPLE in every bite!"). Neither my wife or daughters have ever sat and watched the movie, but even they know what Soylent Green is made of.

Extreme Hopscotch.

But getting back to the film itself...my pessimistic view of human nature has me wondering if Thorn's discovery would realistically make a difference. The film ends with Heston screeching that immortal, meme-worthy line to the masses, the camera freezing on his bloody, outstretched hand. This raises some troubling questions: What next? Is the Soylent Corporation held accountable for their awful secret? Does a shocked and outraged society rise-up against them? And if all plant and animal life are already on the verge of extinction, what are 40 million people in New York City alone going to eat instead? And if Soylent Green itself is so deliciously addicting, would anyone really care what it's made of?

It's possible people would be initially horrified, but I suspect most would soon bury that knowledge, just like we currently do while enjoying a hot dog. We've all heard horror stories and urban legends about McDonald's ingredients...worm meat, animal brains, etc. But even after Morgan Spurlock exposed the horrors of Value Meals in Super Size Me, McDonald's remained the biggest restaurant chain in the world because Quarter Pounders are still fucking awesome. Since Soylent Green itself looks more like Sun Chips than it does our loved ones, wouldn't most of us do the same, especially if the only other option is starvation?

Thorn spots a relative.

On a related personal note, yours truly is a coffee junkie. Ever since becoming addicted to it in college, I'm unable to constructively interact with others without starting my day with a cup or six. As an educator in the real world - of middle-schoolers, no less - I'm fairly confident this magic elixir is the only thing that prevents me from becoming a child murderer.

Starbucks, of course, is the evil Galactic Empire of the java-verse. For the longest time, I managed to avoid its insidious allure, dashing clear of the Starbucks in our Safeway parking lot, then juking like Walter Payton to avoid the second Starbucks inside the store. I thumbed my nose at franchise's hipster-baiting trendiness and the idea of shelling-out five bucks for what's essentially a glorified milkshake. I was also convinced most people patronized Starbucks so others could see they patronized Starbucks. After all, coffee is coffee. Anyone who needed whipped cream, sprinkles, syrup and cookie straws weren't hardcore coffee achievers...just candy addicts. To my utter disgust, Starbucks' grande-sized White Chocolate Mocha became my own wife's personal heroin. Worse yet, like the drug-addicted parents we educators are required to report to Child Services, she got our kids hooked on this shit, too.

Between my family, co-workers, acquaintances and friends, I felt like a single ship atop a sea of conformity, feeling superior the mindless sheep willing to wait in a twenty-minute line for something you could get at 7-Eleven for half the price. Whenever I was forced to feed my family's addiction by being the twelfth fucking car at the drive-thru - nearly every weekend - a small part of me wished the neighborhood euthanasia clinics in Soylent Green were real.

Then I received a Starbucks Christmas gift card from one of my students, who apparently assumed teachers must love Starbucks nearly as much as driving Toyota Priuses (you'd be surprised how many of my colleagues own one). I feigned gratitude with a polite smile while making a mental note to drop her grade to a C-. My family was happy, of course. For them, the only thing better than getting Starbucks while holiday shopping was free Starbucks while holiday shopping. So one weekend, card in-hand, we found ourselves in the nearest twenty-minute line at one of our local mall's 17 Starbucks stores. Being that I was exhausted from lugging around Old Navy bags and it didn't cost anything, I caved-in and ordered myself a grande cup of their strongest, darkest roast. "Would you like room for cream?" the bubbly barista asked. Fuck, no.

Sometimes it's a texture thing.

I took my first sip, and despite scorching my tongue, the heavens suddenly parted and the angels sang. This wasn't just coffee...this was nerve-jolting, eyeball-bursting COFFEE! Sweet ambrosia, where have you been my whole life? Even though I felt like I just joined the world's largest cult, I became an instant Starbucks convert. Sure, I had always managed to brew a decent cup o' joe at home, but it was mere Soylent Yellow compared to this. Today, whenever my wife and I go anywhere, be-it the grocery store or a trip to her mother's, our first stop is always the nearest Starbucks. Someday, I hope to stop at the Starbucks in our Safeway parking lot and pound-back a grande Dark Roast in time to order another one when we get inside the store.

If some nosey cop were to suddenly burst into the store with the ominous announcement that Starbucks' soaked its coffee beans in the blood of children to achieve their delectable distinctiveness, I'm not sure how much I'd really care. Sure, I'd be initially horrified because...you know, the blood of children. But what am I supposed to do...revert back to Folger's?  The prospect of shitting a coconut has more appeal. Besides, it's not like I'd be drinking the blood my children.

Starbucks: Brewed with the blood of children.

Additionally, if I were waiting in one of those twenty-minute lines and the manager came out from behind the counter with a bullhorn to announce, "The supply of Dark Roast has been exhausted," I'd probably incite a riot that would make the one in Soylent Green look like toddlers protesting naptime at a daycare facility.

Am I alone? From my own personal experience, I doubt it. Maybe Soylent Green's concept is actually more timely than we'd like to think. Sure, as 2022 rapidly approaches, it doesn't look like we'll be ready to make Grandpa part of our nutritious breakfast. But we might want to ask ourselves what horrors we'd be currently willing to accept in order to keep consuming the things we love.