SHARKS

My father was only 48 when he died of lung cancer. Looking back on that time in our lives, which by now has been reduced to a scattered mosaic of thoughts and recollections, one thing stands out, and still remains with me to this day: the utter unfairness of that. It was shattering to lose him in general, and at his relatively young age, but for him to succumb to a disease that implied he hadn't taken care of himself, or that he'd been careless -- that was a cosmically offensive finale for a man who prided himself on living as healthy a lifestyle as possible. For lung cancer to grow inside someone who'd never once smoked -- and he didn't; not cigarettes, not cigars, not even pipes -- made about as much sense as...well, I don't even know. Any halfhearted metaphor I could muster would sound petty in comparison.

Granted, I was young when this happened; I'd yet to learn the lesson that cancer didn't follow the rules. It didn't matter if my father smoked two packs a day or none, ever, in his life. Cancer was cancer was cancer. It cared hilariously little for textbook arguments. It cared little that my father ate healthy, got his eight hours, and walked our dog, Betsy, to the park and back every morning, without fail. His only real vice – if you could call it that – was a single glass of red at dinner.

Despite this, whichever god- or non-godlike force that drew his number didn't care about the particulars. It pointed at him -- just another anonymous human being in a sea of billions -- and assigned him his fate. And like all the other personal tragedies that befell him during his life, he accepted it without a fuss. He didn't rail against it, didn't muse aloud, "Why me?," didn't go seeking sympathy.

That wasn't his style.

Read the rest...

REVIEW: ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE

Whether they mean/meant to or not, zombie movies have been aping George A. Romero since 1968. Perhaps you've heard of his first film. It was about a night in which the living were dead, and the dead were living. What he created all those years ago (after borrowing a bit from Richard Matheson's "I Am Legend") is now taken for granted as official and legendary zombie mythology, and assumed to be thousands of years old. Actually, it's roughly only forty, and comes not from a Native American shaman or cave wall drawings, but some old hippie stoner from Pittsburgh.

Zombies are slow. They are dead. Only a blow to the brain will kill them. If one bites you, you will turn into one. Don't call them zombies (even though they are).

Zombie Apocalypse (with a '2012' crammed in for its video release) is a SyFy Channel original movie and produced by The Asylum. Are you running for the hills yet? I don't blame you. But seriously, folks...it ain't half bad.

Ramona (Taryn Manning of "Sons of Anarchy") has hit the post-outbreak zombified streets with two of her friends, Kevin and and Billy. Zombies happen, as do bite wounds, but another group of survivors come along and save their bacon. Kevin is left as zombie chew toys, but Ramona and Billy are "adopted" by the survivors, led by Mack, and co-opted by Julian, a literary author quoter, Cassie, a woman hoping to become reunited with her husband and mourning the death (?) of her son, and Henry (Ving Rhames, in his third zombie movie appearance). Together they will do what everyone else who has survived the zombie outbreak so far does: try to keep surviving. 

Honestly, Zombie Apocalypse is actually a decent little movie. The acting is competent, and magically, none of the actors ever come across as irritating. The characters aren't overflowing with development, as some receive a little more back story than others, but you will at least know a little about each person. You're definitely provided with enough to reciprocate a modicum of care, as I'll admit to being movie-concerned during a sequence in which two characters become isolated from the group and surrounded by the dead.

Speaking of the dead, I must absolutely give Z.A. credit for something which may sound trivial (and please correct me if I am wrong), but this is the first zombie film I've seen to not only contain both walking AND running zombies, but also provide an explanation as to why some walk and some run (the walkers have been dead longer; the runners are "fresher"). Even in Romero's films it's established that zombies are slow and shambly, but will occasionally and uncharacteristically rush at a victim with little regard for continuity.

The make-up effects are pretty effective, save for the few moments when patches of a zombie's skin are inadvertently captured and reveal no rot or marring of any kind. The kills are cool, and for once I can say I've seen new ways in which to off a zombie. That ice skate kill is as ridiculous as it is awesome.

The script is smart, and contains so many classic bits from the "what-if" conversations we've all shared with friends around a late-night diner booth. What if a zombie apocalypse were to happen? What weapons would you use? Would you drive, or hoof it? Would you use bikes? Flamethrowers? What about animals? Do you think they would turn? It honestly feels as if the film were conceived by genuine zombie enthusiasts, and not just by people who threw something together containing zombies since they are very much in the forefront of current entertainment.

But alas...because this is a SyFy Channel original...the usual nitpicks arise. I always give credit where credit is due in terms of scope and ambition, and the filmmakers were mostly able to pull off a post-apocalyptic setting with very little money, but much of the CGI utilized in the film is at best laughable. Scenes with zombified animals come off as especially cartoonish, but there is enough evident care behind the scenes to let this slide. 

In some scenes there is very little regard to exposition continuity. Meaning, it's noticeable when a character clarifies that to kill a zombie you need to destroy the brain, but then zombies are later brought down with shots/slices to the stomach, anyway. And it's also noticeable when a character says, "If you shoot an arrow at a zombie, retrieve the arrow if you can safely do so," then shoots a zombie with an arrow and runs right by it, not stopping to retrieve said arrow, even though it could have been done safely. 

There is some truly horrendous dialogue, ie, "Are there any humans in here?", which a character calls out not once but twice, and leads me to wonder: do zombies really need that clarification? If they're in an unseen room and eating some fingers, will they hear that this dude is demanding to see humans only, realize they aren't the requested demographic, and go back to eating? No, of course they won't. They want fresher fingers. 

Plus, for a movie in which thousands of bullets are sent smashing through teems of ghoul faces, there isn't a single scene of anyone reloading. Just sayin'.

Curiously, certain events or allusiuons are placed throughout the film that suggest a resolution or explanation for them is right around the corner...but then no such explanation comes. There are several scenes in which characters declare the zombies are getting smarter, are learning, but this leads to no real pay off. And in a scene where it's explained that Cass' son is attacked by zombies but not definitely killed, there's an established fear that she may run into a zombified version of her son later down the road...which never happens.

I wonder why all that is. Were there hopes or plans for a Z.A. 2? Was this some kind of pilot for a television show (which is a highly dubious question)? If no to both, then why introduce these developments only for them never to pay off? 

Still, I dug this movie quite a bit. It's not perfect, comes nowhere close, and isn't trying to be. And for the sake of clarification, let me state this: had this been a theatrically released movie with a multi-million dollar budget, I would have ripped it a new asshole. It wouldn't come anywhere close to a watchable rating. It would endeavor to smell the fart fumes wafting off a simple rating of "terrible." But this was not that heavy weight. This was made for SyFy, people. SYFY. Have you seen their films? Of course you have. Your brain will forever be infected with much of their output. As such, because of its lineage, Z.A. deserves a lot of credit. It wasn't just run-of-the-mill garbage. 

 

Romero's films will always be looked at as cannon, and fledgling zombie filmmakers of the world have long made their peace with that. Every zombie movie that soon will be - one that contains flesh eating, brain destroying, and a contagious virus - will always and forever be a sequel to Romero's films, whether they like it or not. As it stands, Zombie Apocalypse happens to be one of the better ones.

SAM'S NEW PET

Sam stayed with his grandmother when his parents went to Mexico for their vacation. “We are going to bring you back something nice,” his mother told him. “It will be a surprise.” Before they came home, Sam’s parents looked for something Sam would like. All they could find was a beautiful sombrero. It cost too much. But that afternoon, while they were eating their lunch in a park, they decided to buy the sombrero after all. Sam’s father threw what was left of their sandwiches to some stray dogs, and they walked back to the marketplace. One of the animals followed them. It was a small, gray creature with short hair, short legs, and a long tail. Wherever they went, it went. “Isn’t he cute!” Sam’s mother said. “He must be one of those Mexican Hairless dogs. Sam would love him.”

“He’s probably somebody’s pet,” Sam’s father said. They asked several people if they knew who its owners were, but no one did. They just smiled and shrugged their shoulders. Finally, Sam’s mother said, “Maybe he’s just a stray. Let’s take him home with us. We can give him a good home, and Sam will love him.”

It is against the law to take a pet across the border, but Sam’s parents hid the animal in a box, and no one saw it. When they got home, they showed it to Sam. “He’s a pretty small dog,” said Sam. “I’m not sure what kind he is,” his father said. “I think it’s called a Mexican Hairless. We’ll find out. But he’s nice, isn’t he?”

They gave the new pet some dog food. Then they washed it and brushed it and combed its fur. That night it slept on Sam’s bed. When Sam awakened the next morning, his pet was still there. “Mother,” he called, “the dog has a cold.” The animal’s eyes were running, and there was something white around his mouth. Later that morning Sam’s mother took it to a veterinarian. “Where did you get him?” the vet asked. “In Mexico,” she said. “We think he’s a Mexican Hairless. I was going to ask you about that.”

“He’s not a Hairless,” the vet said. “He’s not even a dog. He’s a sewer rat—and he has rabies.”

Story source.

Sculpture source.

YESSSSSSS

 

This.

First News.

HEY, KNOW WHAT'S A REAL MOVIE?

PREPARE

Imagine: You half-hear a low, guttural sound from outside as you lay sleeping. You figure it's just your stomach after too much delicious Mexican food...but a sudden thud on the outside wall of the house shakes you from a peaceful slumber. Deep within the primal centers of your brain, you realize the dead have risen to claim our once-peaceful realm. What do you do? What do you need? The dead have risen, and they've returned as something different. Those you were once closest to now hunger for your flesh, and possibly the Mexican food you had for dinner.

There is no room for error when dealing with the undead. Our Z.E.R.O. (Zombie Extermination, Research and Operations) Kit takes into account all the different aspects of surviving the looming zombie apocalypse. When the undead hordes rise from their shallow graves to wreak havoc on all decent civilization, you'll need to both fight back (Extermination), and find a cure (Research).

Always be prepared. In the new zombie world you can be king of the hill, or the tastiest treat in town.

Source.

SHITTY FLICKS: CRAZY FAT ETHEL 2

Shitty Flicks is an ongoing column that celebrates the most hilariously incompetent, amusingly pedestrian, and mind-bogglingly stupid movies ever made by people with a bit of money, some prior porn-directing experience, and no clue whatsoever. It is here you will find unrestrained joy in movies meant to terrify and thrill, but instead poke at your funny bone with their weird, mutant camp-girl penis.

WARNING: I tend to give away major plot points and twist endings in my reviews because, whatever. Shut up.

Once upon a time, a fat woman named Priscilla Alden met an auteur named Nick Millard.

"I could put you in the movies!" he cried. 

Priscilla made a slight gurgling noise. 

"That's a good idea," whined Nick, and they made a movie called Crazy Fat Ethel aka Criminally Insane.

Thirteen years later, Nick ran into Priscilla at a pie eating contest. Priscilla was in the lead, whereas Nick had attended just to steal all the leftover crusty pie plates to snack on until his next unemployment check posted to his account. Their eyes met and they knew what they had to do. Nick hastened to his mother's bedroom, where he wrote 20 pages worth of a screenplay on the walls.

In crayon.

Making a trail of chicken wings up to the bedroom, Priscilla followed. He then showed her the screenplay, circled with barbecue sauce. The rest, as they say, is history. The two became one for a second time with another film: Crazy Fat Ethel 2.

After Ethel’s first bout of fatting and killing, she was shipped back to her former home: the Nappa Mental Institute, where she now resides in a room, sullenly leaning against a wall as she dreams about the first movie. After a couple rounds of that, Ethel feasts on some bread, sopping up some plate sauce and stuffing it in her fat hole, working it around as Nick Millard becomes acquainted with the zoom function.

Crazy Fat Ethel 2 is comprised largely of footage from the first movie, and it should also be noted that while the first film was shot on 16mm, this movie was shot with someone's borrowed VHS home video camera. The two mediums, when combined, are glaringly different, and it really shows just how pedestrian this sequel looks in comparison to the first film. This also produces a strange realization: as bad as the first movie is, it's nothing when compared to this movie. If Crazy Fat Ethel 1 was a ball of shit, then Crazy Fat Ethel 2 is a ball shit that the previous ball of shit somehow shit out.

 Sure, working sixteen-hour days was a daunting task,
but those old truck parts she was promised was a
treasure well worth earning.

In the hospital, a very real doctor named Dr. Stephens sits in his very real doctor's office, complete with a desk lamp and framed inspirational picture of whales, as he establishes with another very real doctor how the state has cut funding to the hospital and the less dangerous patients (which includes Ethel, despite her murderous and cannibalistic past) must be transferred to halfway houses. Other doctor only nods in agreement and is probably never seen again.

Ethel, meanwhile, snacks on a small glass jar of pudding, and as long as it takes for her to eat it, that's how long we're forced to watch it. Then she throws down the glass jar and spoon upon its completion and farts, "It's too damn little!"

This is when we meet Hope Bartholomew, who is wearing the skins of a recently deceased zebra. She fields a call from Dr. Stephens, who requests that she agree to take in Ethel to her home, which she does, proclaiming, “You know my motto! We must never lose hope!”

Ethel is dropped off at Mrs. Bartholomew’s, wearing her signature fat body and brown duds.

“Welcome to Bartholomew House, Ethel," says Mrs. Bartholomew. "I trust you’ll be happy here.”

Ethel’s poorly lit face remains emotionless, signifying the same lack of interest in her life that I have in this movie. Mrs. Bartholomew’s attention to Ethel will cause her to believe that she is actually her Granny, and she’ll refer to her that way for the rest of the movie.

Once inside, Ethel freaks out upon seeing a particular patient, insisting that he is the cop that put her away at the conclusion of the first movie. As the camera zooms in on her fat face over and over, the man disinterestedly stares back at her, sniveling his mustache.

A close up of an intercom (brought to life by a woman obviously shouting off-screen) informs us that it’s lunch time. Ethel eagerly slimes off her bed and thunders downstairs, only to stop and see the wall groper, Greg. After watching this groping man for far longer than is necessary, Ethel sits down to a nice hot bowl of black water, all the while giving the evil eye to the mustachioed man she still believes to be the cop.

Greg at first refuses to sit down to lunch, but mustachioed man placates him, telling him that he would give him “some of that special seasoning” he likes: dead flies.

Say, these guys really are crazy!

After a while, Greg grows tired of eating fly soup and begins to play an imaginary piano.

Later, Mrs. Bartholomew tries to give Ethel her medication, but she reacts negatively, flinging the tray from Mrs. Bartholomew’s old hands and pooing, “I don’t want any damn pills! I want a snack, Granny!”

Mrs. Bartholomew leaves the room to rat Ethel out to Dr. Stephens, who continues to be a real doctor by sitting behind a desk in a white room and wearing a lab coat.

"Hello, I am a real medical doctor. I would like to order
some pill medicine, and some of those brown medicine
jars with the lids that are hard to get off. No, I will not
hold. I am due in a brain surgery meeting."

An extremely Jewish looking man plops down the steps, an alarmingly accurate clone of Parenthood’s Tom Hulce. He proudly states that Mrs. Bartholomew had to go into town, and has left him in charge. When Ethel demands to know when dinner will be served, he responds that he “doesn’t want to hear any complaints about the corn-beef hash.” And then we cut to see him prying open cans of dog food and divvying them onto several plates.

Let's all laugh together, shall we?

As the other members of the halfway house debate over the quality of the meat, Ethel laughs absurdly for absolutely no reason.

Later, as Ethel is washing dishes, she catches Tom Hulce sexily eating a candy bar in the kitchen. She longs for it from afar, biting her lip and dreaming of its chocolate nuts, and how good it would feel inside her.

After what feels like two weeks, Tom Hulce states, “This candy bar is SO good! It’s so chocolaty and sweet inside!" As Tom Hulce withdraws another from his pocket, I can’t help but wonder: why can’t I be dead?

Ethel, not one for letting sleeping hot dogs lie, procures a length of rope from the curtains and jimmies a booby-trap on the banister that wouldn’t have even trapped the Wet Bandits. But no worries, because it works almost instantly, as Ethel drops the noose around Tom Hulce’s neck and somehow lifts the man off his feet with her flabby arms, killing him. Mustachioed man slowly shuts the door, having witnessed this horrible crime, setting in motion his dastardly plan.

Ethel then replaces the length of rope, because why not? I've shat out better things than this movie.

Priscilla just kept laughing, hoping the crew would forget
they had asked what happened to the entire table of day-old bagels.

 
Later, Mrs. Bartholomew talks with a cop in her living room. The cop soon turns his sights on the very large bastard that is Ethel Janowski as he questions her about the strangling of Tom Hulce. 

“I was watching 'Gunsmoke' on TV!” cries Ethel, staring at her fat feet. She runs into the kitchen and is confronted by mustachioed man, who tells her he will rat her out to the cop unless she “gives up [her] dessert for the next month.” The horrified look on Ethel’s face as the camera zooms out is almost priceless.

Ethel, so distressed by this recent development, takes yet another nap, where she dreams of the first film—more specifically, murdering Rosalee, her atrocious-looking sister, and John, her atrocious-looking pimp.

At dinner, Ethel begrudgingly hands over her pudding to mustachioed man, who eats it slowly in front of her. Ethel stares back in slight curiosity and utter desire, trying to understand the man’s intent. Wishing she could smush the chocolate deliciousness into her own mouth, she quickly tends to the whistling tea kettle in the kitchen and pours a healthy dose of rat poison (courtesy of a large white box with ‘rat poison’ written in unrealistically small letters) in mustachioed man’s tea.

As Ethel sips apprehensively from her pig mug, the two attempt to ignore the fact that they're outlandishly insane and make idle chatter about tea, and how they like it “hot”or how they like it “good and hot.” The oddly sexual undertone of the scene comes to a mercifully quick close as he puts down the mug, deciding not to drink it. Ethel rolls into the kitchen, where she bangs pots and eats an apple. Mustachioed man busies himself at the sink as Ethel withdraws a very small blade from the drawer and stabs him in the back, the knife flopping immediately to the side. She withdraws several more knives, applying them sloppily to his back. She pauses for a moment to snack off her apple, and then continues stabbing, laughing as she does so.

"What? No, Ethel, you can't suck on the fucking ham bone."

As the cop “discovers” the body in the kitchen, stating, “I might as well set up shop right here,” without the least hint of horror, Ethel snacks on forbidden pretzels in her room. She then hides them as Mrs. Bartholomew enters to explain that her house had never seen such horror, miles from the realization that this only happened once Ethel came to live there.

“You know my motto: we must never lose hope!” she restates.

As Ethel sticks her hands in her mouth, Mrs. Bartholomew spots the pretzels and attempts to leave with them, but Ethel shouts, “You give me those pretzels, Granny,” and chases her into the hallway where she beats her to death with a tiny candle holder.

“I guess I just lost hope!” Ethel says to no one, spraying the room with pretzel crumbs as she cackles.

Dr. Stephens, the real doctor, decides to take a trip out to the Bartholomew house after not being able to get in touch with her over his doctor phone. Ethel panics and lunges at the good doctor with her large knife into the sitting room where she chases him around the couch three full times, grabbing at random pieces of furniture as she runs for some support, lest she wipe out and beach herself like a fat ass whale waiting for a mouthful of warm, dead meat. The very fit-looking man opts to make a break for the front door. Thanks to the power of editing, the extremely old, fat, and feeble Ethel catches up and stabs him in the back, burying her fake knife into a pillowcase of ketchup. Does it matter that he falls on his stomach and his white shirt is stabbed, but a different cut shows him on his back and wearing a blue shirt?

Yes, yes it does.

It really does.

But not in this movie.

Ethel then wanders into the back yard and pulls a Julie Andrews, spinning around with her arms spread and doing some killer prancing, content that she has murdered the entire household and probably eaten large quantities of buttered steak.

Ethel, now having finally lost everything in her mind, answers the knocked door to see the cop. “Hello, I am Hope Bartholomew,” she moos. “Welcome to Bartholomew House. I hope you’ll be happy here.” She then laughs as the cop looks as disgusted and annoyed as I feel right now.

Ethel tries to distract herself with some television as a
plumber performs some monthly maintenance on her vagina.

After the end of Crazy Fat Ethel 2, Nick Millard and Priscilla Alden felt they should say farewell to their exploitation horror films featuring a wide-assed woman eating eclairs and committing heinous murders. And then, Nick Millard wrote a screenplay about a wide-assed woman who commits heinous murders (while dressed as a nurse). In keeping with his style, this particular screenplay was scrawled on the side of a tractor trailer at a truck stop that Millard visits to get peed on by road-weary truckers who are into that sort of thing.

What I Learned From Crazy Fat Ethel 2:

• Watching a stationary shot of a fat woman eating pudding for three real-time minutes is as unappealing as it sounds.
• No, seriously, using footage from the first film of a series in the second installment is a great way to save money while also being a lazy douche bag. (See Death Nurse; Death Nurse 2; Silent Night, Deadly Night 2).
• Standing/facing walls and quivering took off as the national pastime in America in 1988, just below baseball and sex.
• Always make sure to pay your taxes, or else mental institutions will lose funding, close down, and seriously let the insane wander the streets.
• Flies in soup taste really good if you're batshit insane.