THE FILM YAP » prostitutes We Never Shut Up About Movies Fri, 17 Oct 2014 22:53:41 +0000 en-US hourly 1 Machete Kills Sat, 12 Oct 2013 15:55:41 +0000 Continue reading ]]> machetekills - interior

The follow-up to 2010’s “Machete” is a plodding, redundant nightmare of a movie with little flash and nothing memorable to note. While the original marked the first of the “Grindhouse” trailers to be made into a full-length picture, “Machete Kills” serves as a reminder that the resurgence of a retro genre can die out just as quickly as it was popularized.

As a sequel, “Machete Kills” all but abandons the quirky edge that made the trailer — and, to a lesser extent, the first movie — so much fun to watch. Instead, this highly unnecessary sequel painfully rehashes the same gags to the point where the viewer is being bludgeoned over the head with cliches. The film clocks in under two hours and yet about halfway through, I found myself looking at my watch waiting for the credits to roll.

The plot is a hackneyed mess involving Machete being enlisted by the president (Charlie Sheen) to bring down madman Mendez, a former Mexican cartel member who has a missile pointed at Washington. As the plot slowly unravels, it becomes clear Mendez is merely a decoy used to lure Machete into the clutches of a far more eccentric madman, millionaire arms manufacturer Luther Voz (Mel Gibson).

Needlessly thrown into the mix as well is a character simply referred to as La Chamaleón, a bounty hunter out to claim Machete’s head as a trophy. As the name would suggest, La Chamaleón is one of many faces, being played by Cuba Gooding Jr., Lady Gaga and Antonio Banderas, respectively. In what stands to be the most interesting character in the entire movie, the role is all but squandered by the constant change of faces.

It would appear that many of the actors in “Machete Kills” are merely playing caricatures of themselves. Gibson is an eccentric madman, Gaga plays a character of endless faces and personalities and Sheen in the role of the womanizing president. Not to mention Danny Trejo was basically born into the role of Machete. Despite the deliberate characterization, the movie still lacks the definitive personality that made “Machete” a standout fake trailer to begin with.

At this point, it would appear Robert Rodriguez will be forced to abandon his ongoing love affair with ’70s grindhouse pictures, at least for the sake of schlock enthusiasts everywhere. Simply put, “Machete Kills” is the proverbial nail in the coffin of this recent exploitation resurgence. At least we all have “Hobo with a Shotgun” upon which to look back fondly.

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Heroes of the Zeroes: Sin City Fri, 01 Oct 2010 04:01:34 +0000 Continue reading ]]> Heroes of the Zeroes is Nick Rogers’ daily, alphabetical look back at the 365 best films of 2000-2009.

“Sin City”
Rated R

There’s plenty of greed and wrath in 2005’s “Sin City” — not to mention that Carla Gugino is lust on two legs and Rosario Dawson’s thighs gluttonously groan against latex as she sexily struts in a cockatiel hairdo and a cock-teasing bustier.

On one hand, Robert Rodriguez drenched “Sin City” in his usual monsoon of ironic, macho macabre. People are beaten, eaten and shot in the babymaker. His camera salivates over curves and cleavage of tough-dame females. Elijah Wood convincingly portrays a mute, cannibal black-belt badass.

On the other, “Sin City” wasn’t just an entertaining killing-floor display. Do-gooder pride proved as dangerous as any broad or bad guy and offered a thematically gray complement to stunning arctic-white, inkblot-black visuals in an adaptation of Frank Miller’s neo-noir graphic novels (which Miller co-directed).

Broken into segments, “Sin City” is at its best concerning mournful mammoth Marv (Mickey Rourke) — an incredible hulk with meat mitts and a face like Kirk Douglas if someone broke it and let the bones set on their own.

As Marv tracks those who killed the woman he loved, Rourke’s hungry, manic eyes peek from behind freakish disfigurement, highlighting the animal magnetism that propelled Rourke’s Zeroes comeback.

Clive Owen and Bruce Willis round out palookas and galoots in the wrong place at the wrong time — enjoying only fleeting senses of valor and vigor. If they’re heroes at all, they’re haggard, harried, morose.

For all of “Sin City’s” impressive teeth-kicking intensity, its strongest virtues are somber questions of righteousness versus delusion.

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