Truth or Dare?: A Critical Madness

Price:$1
Year:1986
Run time: 90 minutes
Director: Tim Ritter
Cast: John Brace (of the Burt Reynold's Playhouse), AJ McLean

As throngs of braced faced little girls and their acne plagued closeted gay boyfriends writhe around me in a blaze of Disney channel pre-eroticism, all I can think about is when the second encore is officially over, and I can go backstage to complete my one goal for the evening. The kids standing around me most likely want to go to the same place, although for very different reasons. These girls want to get as close to Nick Carter as possible, so that his glistening blond locks can blind them in person. I never got much into Nick Carter myself. He's a bit plain and chubby. Actually, I never really got into the Backstreet boys too much.

So then, what am I doing here?

The answer is sort of a complicated one. You see, I'm here exclusively to see AJ McLean, the group's "freak" who is at times even more stunning than dancing Shlitze. It isn't that I have any romantic notions regarding myself and AJ, although I do find his Moroder-esque looks to be quite compelling. What I want is to pick his brain about a little movie called Truth or Dare?: A Critical Madness.

When the show ends, I make the slow push to get back stage. My makeshift press pass evidently works. Mr Carter is immersed in a huge swath of people, mostly groupies and journalists. Howie, Kevin and Brian all seem to be pretty busy as well. Luckily, Mr McLean is only talking to one person rather passively, while trying to conceal a bottle of Cognac. I am able to walk right up to him.

He's pretty friendly, and visibly pretty drunk. He offers me a swig from his flask, and I take it. It seems as though he is flirting with me by the way he keeps eying my prosthetic limbs. While I am tempted by his interest, I have a goal and I have to stick to it.

"So," I ask him, " I saw this movie that you were in as a kid. Its called Truth or Dare."

"You mean the Madonna movie?" he nervously jests. "I wasn't in that one."

"But you were in another Truth or Dare, weren't you?"

He freezes up. Flirtation is replaced with cold sweat. He breathes deep, trying to regain composure.

"I was really young back then. I barely remember it."

"It must have been odd filming that wrist slitting scene."

He looks away.

"Why don't you do any promotion for that movie? I think a lot of people would really like it."

He is frozen like a statue, but I persist.

" You know, I think it would be great if the Backstreet boys covered the 'Critical Madness' song. Would you ever do something like that?"

AJ re-animates by violently snapping his fingers above his head. Before I can move onto the next question, a big man in a tight black shirt is lifting me up and physically removing me from the green room. I am out on the street faster than you can say "I dare you to rip your face off."

Truth or Dare?: A Critical madness is clearly the movie that AJ McLean does not want us to know about. His publicity machine was able to cover it up for awhile. It baffles me that he does not want to be associated with this low budget blood bath. My theory is that as AJ McLean grew up, in the years following his role as young Mike Strauber, his life eerily started to mirror that of the film's central character. Like Mike Strauber, I'd bet that Mr. Mclean has engaged in a killing spree resulting in dead punks, limbless mental patients, and little league players decapitated by chain saws. The publicity machine behind the Backstreet boys has prevented to American people from accessing this important knowledge.


There is a killer amongst us, and his name is AJ Mclean.


Or maybe he has not killed. Perhaps he just fantasizes about re-enacting the scenarios that the grown up version of his character participated in. He is ashamed of the "Critical Madness" within himself.

AJ, if you are reading this, I have a message for you:

There is absolutely no shame in starring in a Halloween rip of that involves machine guns. In fact, the machine guns are arguably an improvement. Also, any movie where a member of the Burt Reynold's playhouse plays the adult version of you is something to be proud of. AJ, don't run from the past.

If you take pride in this move, one day there will be a decent DVD to watch instead of a snow drenched VHS. This would make your fans happy, AJ.

And yeah, the Backstreet boys really should do a cover of "Critical Madness"

Red Planet

Price: 75 Cents
Year: 2000
Length: 106 mins
Director: Antony Hoffman
Cast: Val Kilmer, Tom Sizemore, Carrie Anne Moss, Benjamin Bratt, and TERENCE STAMP


5. riverrun, past Burt and Adam's, from swell of belly to bend

of sac, brings us by a commondius vomitus of refelchization back to

Howtfuc Kilmerstle and Environs.

A. I'll never forget that gesture, a combination wink and point and jizzture in his own direction that would crescendo into a hand on the back pushing you through the door and into the darkness of the back room, that symbolized what is most sensual and desired in this world . . . that Val Kilmer is going to fuck you. I'm not a prude, but when I was invited to a party at Val Kilmer's house I was expecting more than a string of episodic post- and pre- coital selection emergences from the man of the house (no JTT), but that was all I got. I counted ten sessions of Kilmerization that evening over the course of 2.5 hours and roughly 7 Heineken keg cans. So much for my first big celebrity bash, at least his house was nice, but who the fuck does Val think he is pulling these David Lee Roth paramour tricks in the '00's (decade looks like boobies). He didn't even talk to anyone, he'd just emerge from his sex dungeon in a pallid sweat while his most recent Valctim would rush out with a mixture of exhaustion and shame on her tear and mascara strewn face as Val would cast his discerning eye on the pickings at hand. There was no resistance, it was as if the ladies had all gotten the memo, Come to Val Kilmer's house and he will fuck you and make you cry.

4. A kitten under a floorboard is incapable of distracting me from what is most remarkable about this classic South Dakota money pit hot spot; for a low low price of 8 dollars, you, too, can see the actual car driven by Val Kilmer in the movie Thunderheart, lines form to the right, and oh yeah, that kitten, we got 40 more of em around here, can't get rid of em fast enough, heh heh heh.

3. You download it because well, you download every celebrity sex video, whether it is classic (pamntommy), tamenlame (ray-jandthatpotatoheadedindustrygroupie), poorly shot (greenparis), or imaginary (dakotafanning), but nothing could prepare you for this: a reputed sex addict clad in a black suit cavorting listlessly and continuously. You shut it off after only three skipped around and about minutes, sending it to the recycle bin along with your now useless genitals. Never again will I know happiness.

B. now I understand why Carrie Anne-Moss was wearing a hat during that one scene when we all looked at one another and were like, at the same time, WHY THE FUCK IS SHE WEARING THAT HAT? It was because, with Val and Sizey sex addicting all over one another's priapistastic intourage's, one continually needed all the flying fluid protection that only a baseball hat with gold trim can provide (the trim prevents side spillage).

C. Kilm and Sizey pissing on the MARS side by side, slapping each other on the back, while howling with pleasure.

2. A consumptive paradox. In order to fully appreciate said film, one's alcohol/coughee consumption must attain such a high level that when coupled with the languid pacing and facile characterization of the film in question captivates the viewer into unconsciousness. You cannot win.

1. 2 seconds of redemption for a lifetime of sullied virtue and pants

Delta Force 2: Operation Stranglehold

Price: 75 cents
Year: 1990
Run Time: 110 Minutes
Director: Aaron Norris
A Globus Pearce Production
Starring Chuck Norris, Billy Drago, Mark Margolis, Begonia Plaza, John P. Ryan, Richard Jaeckel


When perusing dollar videos, there is no signifier of quality more important than the names "Menachem Golan" and/or "Yoram Globus." In the eighties when they ran Cannon Films together, they produced (as well as occasionally writing and directing) well over 100 of the most delirious, trashy, and illogical (predominantly) action films ever made. After kicking off the decade with his glittering disco mind control in 1994 slash biblical allegory masterwork THE APPLE, which is probably the greatest movie ever made, Golan (usually with Globus) continued to shit out gloriously sofa king we todd did action movies such as DEATH WISH III, COBRA, and BLOODSPORT. Although Golan-Globus produced legendary entries in the action careers of Sly Stallone, Charles Bronson, Dolph Lundgren, Jean-Claude Van Damme, Eric Roberts, and Michael Dudikoff, no collaboration was sustained for as long or as successfully as their teaming with future U.S. president Chuck Norris. From the first MISSING IN ACTION in 1984 through Cannon's last film before going bankrupt 1994's HELLBOUND, Norris and Golan-Globus produced a decade's worth of explosions and spin kicks that will long outlive their earthen chambers.

It also bears mentioning that for a class project in the 7th grade I wrote a commercial jingle for WALKER TEXAS RANGER whose lyrics consisted of "My name's Walker Texas Ranger / I hate people who kidnap kids / I don't shoot them / I just kick them / HIYA! / HIYA! / HIYA! / HIYA! / HIYA!"

Anyway, now that the deification/ironization of Chucky N. seems to have fully run it's roffly course and can only provide the metaphorical sand for our collective vagina, it's safe to go back to the products that created such a pop-cultural nuisance and this flick is top-shelf ground chuck (or you could also call it a good bottle of One Buck Chuck if wine metaphors are more your thing).

Despite Chuck Norris' top-billing and reputation, this movie belongs to two of his co-stars, the comedically evil, slippery, pee-wee-herman-esque pervasexual ooze of Billy Drago as Colombian Drug Kingpin Ramon Coto and the whiskey swilling, innocent villager mowing down insanity of John P. Ryan as General Taylor (catchphrase: "Always the hard way").

This exchange sums up Coto's evilness and General Taylor's sensitivity well:



Drago was a clutch utility villain for the Golan-Globus empire, who would later acheive nerd immortality as uber-villian John Bly on the late, lamented Bruce Campbell Fox series, The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr and for his acidic turn as The Dog Catcher in SOCCER DOG: THE MOVIE. In this movie, he overcompensates for his inability to remotely look Columbian by eating the rest of the cast like that big snake did to the train at the end of SNAKES ON A TRAIN.

All in all, it's a solid genre entry high on intentional laughs and malevolent absurdity, but with some nice scenes of Chuck scaling a mountain that were so pastoral I could almost hear the Popul Vuh. It's all pretty standard issue Golan-Globus fare, immensely enjoyable and re-watchable. I'll get into their sickness more with posts on OVER THE TOP, MURPHY'S LAW, and AMERICAN NINJA 2 (and maybe CYBORG) over the next couple of weeks. Here's a nice homo-erotic training scene to cap it off:

Fandango

Price: $2.99
Year: 1985
Run Time: 91 Minutes
Director: Kevin Reynolds
Cast: Kevin Costner, Judd Nelson, Sam Robards, Suzy Amis




The above clip might mislead you. Not entirely, however, and not as much as the back-of-box description on the beat up copy of this that I bought. It sounds like a basic bro-dude buddy movie, and although it is essentially that, it awkwardly jumps in and out of this genre. Visually, it kind've reminds me of what might have happened if Michelangelo Antonioni had remade animal house. I say this because of the expansive desert shots throughout, and the out of the blue ending.

The thing is, Fandango was most certainly not directed by Antonioni. It was directed by Kevin Reynolds, who also was behind the camera for a little movie called Waterworld. Another Kevin, who we shall refer to as Cos. Cos appears to be Kevin Reynold's muse, seeing as the pair made several movies together that were notable, although of questionable quality. These include Fandango, Waterworld, and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.

Like the Robin Hood that he went on to portray, Cos leads another group of Merry men in this film, who go by the ultra-snappy name "The Groovers". These "Groovers" appear to be some unofficial fraternity, residing in the same U-Texas Austin house, circa 1971. We are given a brief glimpse of life in this house, which alternates between homo-erotic group mooning, and anxiety about going to Viet Nam. As it turns out, all of the alpha Groovers, who consist of Cos, Nelson, Robards, and an anonymous fat guy, are drafted. Their natural impulse, of course, is to go on a road trip!

As they cruise through the wide open Texan spaces, Cos remains charismatic, in a sort've proto-Owen Wilson way, Nelson acts like a castrating douche, which makes you question why they are friends with him to begin with, Robards whines about his girlfriend, and the fat guy sits there not saying much and being less attractive than the other three (I mean, someone had to be ommitted from the cover, right?). Hijinks, of course are bound to happen, and zany players are obviously met. Some of my favorites are the Scott Baio-esque car mechanic (who is only notable for his appearance) and the groovy hippies who run the flight school. The most notable moment for the Groovers is when they are at this groovy flight school. Since none of them want to engage in coitus with Nelson, in order to relieve his anal retention, they make him get on a totally far out air plane and sky dive. When it turns out this his parachute is actually the Wanda-from-Big-Love-esque-hippy-woman's-laundry, the groovers have to stop grooving and find a way to signal to their less than groovy bro, leading to some moments of hilarious abandon. Things work out (although I wont say how), although the hippie pilot shows up in the rest of the movie for no apparent reason.

Actually, the whole rest of the movie seems to be for no apparent reason. Cos's dart board, and phsychedellic fantasy woman shows up as Robards's GF, and a Robards-esque character shows up who may or may not have been in the movie the whole time. The movie kind've just ends, and I'm not sure where I was lead. Since I was not under the influence of any far-out mind altering substances at the time of my viewing (save a bottle of beer), I'll have to claim that my mind was clear and that the movie was what was muddy. All the same, a little incoherence never hurt anybody. Don't let it steer you away from Fandango. After all, it is the Water World of bro-dude road trip movies. All it needs is Tina Majorino.

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The Devil's Rejects

Price: 3.99
Year: 2005
Runtime: 109 mins
Director: Rob Zombie
Cast: Sid Haig, Bill Moseley, William Forsythe, Sheri Moon Zombie, Ken Foree, Danny Trejo, Diamond Dallas Page, Brian Posehn




















The Devil's Rejects > Citizen Kane

The Cat's Meow

Price: $2.95
Year: 2001
Run Time: 114 minutes
Director: Peter Bogdanovich
Cast: Eddie Izzard, Kirsten Dunst, Edward Herrman, Cary Elwes, Joanna Lumley, Jennifer Tilly

Although not a great movie, The Cat's Meow gets a lot of mileage from a few elements, making it a pretty good, compulsively watchable movie. The most notable of these elements is the amazing cast. Films depicting historical events and character are always amusing when famous actors are cast. This film speculates on the mysterious death of director/producer Thomas Ince (Elwes) one weekend aboard a ship belonging to William Randolph Hearst. Although the historical accuracy of what is shown on screen is questionable, the film claims that notable personalities were on board the ship such as Charlie Chaplin (Izzard), Marion Davies (Kunst), Louella Parsons (Tilly), Elinor Glyn (Lumley), and Margaret Livingston (Claudia Harrison) to name a few. A love triangle between Chaplin, Davies, and Hearst drives much of the action of the story. Although some of the casting of these roles is questionable, all of the players are enjoyable to watch. Eddie Izzard's sleazy lothario take on Charlie Chaplin is entertaining and charming. Kunst, who is often criticized for her lack of sex appeal and inconsistent acting talents, is actually pretty convincing as Marion Davies. Her hyperactive little girl schtick works well for this character, and ads an unsettling father and daughter element to the Hearst-Davies love affair. Edward Herrman really steals the show as an insecure William Randolph Hearst, and it is pleasing to see someone who is usually a secondary actor given the chance to shine. Joanna Lumley is a treat as always, and Jennifer Tilly, although of questionable talent, has a very humorous screen presence. As an ensemble, these players, in addition to a few unknowns, have an intoxicating kinetic energy. Its like watching a party you wish you were at.

If you're a sucker for period pieces, and love the 1920s especially, you will probably enjoy this movie. Whenever things are about to get tense, someone yells the word Charleston, and everyone starts dancing. The fashion is pretty exquisite, especially the butterfly hat that Kunst wears in one scene. The movie wants to make a statement of some sort about that time period, even if it is unclear at times.

There are some film-making things that a supposedly master director like Bogdanovich should know to avoid. Having the bulk of the movie in color and just the funeral scenes in black and white is rather trite and predictable. Also, although the sets and costumes are really great, I wish this movie had a more distinct visual style.

This movie has certainly made me interested in the career of Marion Davies. I am only familiar with the way she is portrayed here and with the character from Citizen Kane that is based on her. Here is a clip from a talkie she was in called Floradora girl.



The Cat's Meow is not an impressive movie, but it is very competent and enjoyable. It is also one of the few bones Kunst apologists can chew on.

Winning

Price: $1
Year:1969
Run Time: 123 long minutes
Director: James Goldstone
Cast: Paul Newman, Joanne Woodward, Richard Thomas, Richard Wagner

The most important thing I learned from watching the movie Winning, is that in addition to being one of Hollywood's most beloved sex symbols, Paul Newman must also be an all around great guy.

My reason for saying this will come off as very shallow, but I suppose I'm past that point. There is one reason I say this, and he name is Joanne Woodward. When this movie was made, both Newman and Woodward were a bit past their primes. However, while Paul ripened with age and gained the textures and accents of a fine wine, Ms. Woodward started to look like a wilty pumpkin. Seeing them on screen as a pair is pretty jarring, and it is even stranger when you are reminded that they are a couple in real life. I'm no I'm perpetuating misogyny by saying this, but you just don't see men as attractive as Paul Newman paired with women as average and old looking as Woodward in today's movies. Mr. Newman has got to be a pretty loving feminist man to not have pulled a Pitt on his so-so looking wife and found a woman who looks like she was created by Madame Tussaud.
In what plays out like a suburban housewife's fantasy, Woodward is swept off her feet by Newman, who is a race car driver who spots her in the window of the car rental facility she works out. They rush into a whirlwind marriage, and he even adopts her queeny son. The Movie of the Week takes a bitter turn when Newman's career gets in the way, and, of all things, Woodward starts two-timing him with the less attractive Richard Wagner. The couple deicides to seperate after this.

Up until the point when Newman catches Woodward and Wagner in the adulterous tryst, there are numerous moments when many men stare Ms. Woodward down and tell her she's beautiful. While she certainly isn't ugly, the extent to which men comment on her attractiveness is pretty absurd. Ms. Woodward is more worn out and maternal than fresh and coquettish. When she cheats on her stud of a husband, it is laugh out loud funny. It is true that there are many women who aren't particularly beautiful in the classic sense, but who are able wrap lovers around her finger. Ms Woodward's character is just not that sort of woman.

It should also be noted that Woodward and Newman don't have much on screen chemistry here. This sometimes happens when real-life couples star in movies together. However Newman does have chemistry with one other character in the movie, and it is none other than Richard Thomas. John Boy from the Waltons plays Woodward's son, who daintily prances into Newman's heart. The boy seems to fall in love with Newman right off the bat. More scenes of innuendo follow, including a scene where Newman seems to be receiving a phantom blow job, while Thomas is sprawled out on the bed in the background. The ultimate moment of romance in the movie is the scene in the auto body shop, which features Thomas straddling the hood of a car and winking at Newman. If you are a fan of thinly veiled gay subtext, you'll surely get a kick out of this.

Overall, Winning is an absurd drama. It is mostly unengaging, but there are some moments of absurdity to make up for this. Paul Newman, who loved car racing in real life, really wanted to get this movie made. However, despite the scenes with Richard Thomas, and one inexplicable psychedellic sequence towards the finale, Winning does not have much passion in it at all.