Horror and Sci-Fi films old and new, weirdo trash, arthouse, forgotten gems, well loved classics, and I'm watching the original Dr Who from the beginning.
Lucio Fulci had a long career as a director, one that covered many styles. But he is best remembered for the gore splattered horror films he made from the late 70s onwards. A Cat in the Brain presents itself as a horror version of 8 1/2, a meta reflection on this particular genre, as well as Fulci's career, and his audience.
Fulci plays a fictional version of himself, a director in the middle of shooting his latest gory effort. Not only that but "Fulci" is also convinced he is going mad, sent over the edge by years of making horror films, and that he may be responsible for a series of slayings near his house.
For such an intriguing wacky premise with so much promise, the end result is surprisingly dreary and plodding.
Much of the footage in A Cat in the Brain is culled from half a dozen films Fulci was involved in a year or two previously, although none of them have anything to do with each other.
The mismatched incoherent tone is sometimes the perfect representation of a fractured disintegrating psyche, but often makes the film look cheap and poorly thought out.
A sequel only in name and star to the 80s original, Delta Force 2 is typical of the shoot first, ask questions later approach to film making taken by its makers, the legendary Cannon Films studios. While the original at least started with serious intent, before spiralling out of control this one starts stupid and doesn't stop.
Chuck Norris reprises his role as Major Scott McCoy, this time going after a South American drug lord Ramon Cota (Billy Drago). He has a partner, Bobby Chavez, which makes the first part feel like a buddy cop film, and once we are introduced to Chavez's ideal family life, we know he is doomed. At this point the film changes to more of a revenge thriller, akin to the James Bond film License to Kill, released a year earlier than this.
Delta Force 2 retains the cheap, made for TV look of its predecessor, although as this is the 90s, whereas the first looked like looked like an episode of The A-Team, this looks like an episode of Macgyver. More importantly, like the first Delta Force, the invincibility of Chuck kills any tension, and the endless explosions eventually become tiring.
However, the real star of this show is not the unlikeable and dull Norris, or the pantomime villain Drago. Instead, John P Ryan, steals the show as Norris’ boss General Taylor. His hilarious, unrestrained take on the role makes Taylor more nuts than anyone Norris is trying to gun down or blow up, especially when he decides to go on a killing rampage in a helicopter gunship.
It is worth remembering that, for all the jingoism and flag waving on screen, at the time Delta Force 2 was released, elements of the CIA had their hands dirty, with some of their South American anti-communist friends financing their operations by smuggling drugs to the USA.
The central premise of International Guerrillas is astonishing but the end result is insane and so hilariously botched that it is impossible to be offended. Just as importantly, even with a running time not far off three hours, there is rarely a dull moment.
Mustafa, a disillusioned Pakistani police officer and his two small-time crook brothers, put aside their differences in the face of an even greater menace than crime, namely Salman Rushdie's novel The Satanic Verses. When their younger sister is killed by the police at an anti-Rushdie demonstration, the trio decide to avenge her and Islam's honour by hunting down and killing Rushdie, helped by a female police officer.
Rushdie, however, is not just a novelist, but also the head of a vast criminal empire, dedicated to two things; firstly building a global chain of casinos, nightclubs and brothels, and secondly wiping out Islam.
Perhaps the overriding lesson of this film is that terrorism is best left to competent professionals rather than enthusiastic amateurs, as it soon becomes apparent that the International Guerrillas are useless. Time after time they botch the job, and constantly have to be bailed out, either by the female police officer, or, at the climax, flying copies of the Koran. And hats off to whoever had the bright idea of them all busting into one of Rushdie's sin palaces dressed in Batman costumes, which, granted, is a step up from their usual disguise of embarrassingly obviously fake beards.
Rushdie is portrayed as a James Bond style supervillain, with a mega fortress / disco in the Philippines, a Jewish head of security, and an assistant who can tell if people are Muslim just by looking at them. This is a man who is as vicious as he is decadent, as at one point, he threatens to torture to the heroes' mother by forcing her to listen to a talking book of The Satanic Verses.
Throw in rubbish car chases, endless gun battles, repeated crash-zooms, some excruciatingly unfunny comedy and the inevitable song and dance numbers and the whole daft thing rattles along at a good energetic pace, even with a running time of over 160 minutes.
The only place the fun stops and the film becomes genuinely unnerving is when the guerrillas mouth another piece of spittle flecked rhetoric, similar to the sort of hateful bile spouted by Islamist extremists nowadays. Talk of mutilating Rushdie's face until even Satan won't recognise him jars with the goofy tone elsewhere.
Ironically, the real life Rushdie proved to be much more tolerant of the film, as well as living up to his free speech, anti-censorship credentials. After the BBFC threatened to block the UK release of the film, on the grounds that the film libelled the author, Rushdie personally intervened to persuade them otherwise.
The phrase "worst film ever" has been bandied around so often that it has lost all meaning, but it also invites debate as to how we define what that phrase actually means. I have a great fondness for films like ROTOR, Gymkata, and The Courier of Death, as well as the work of Ed Wood, but while the makers of these may lack the budget and skills of others, their lack of self-awareness creates a fun, delirious, anything-can-happen approach that is rarely boring, at least not for long. Boring to me is a bad film, and the worst one ever would have to be the most boring.
Demon Cop is not boring, but neither could you call it entirely fun. It is in fact one of the most painful, deranged, useless, and hilarious messes I have ever sat through. The plot is just about impossible to decipher, crammed as is with characters and storylines that come and go at whim. An ageing Cameron Mitchell appears for an opening monologue, playing a chain-smoking psychiatrist who rambles on about Edgar Allen Poe and madness, none of which has anything to do with anything.
The main character is neither a demon or a cop, but a probation officer, who may or may not have been in Vietnam and may or may not have contracted something during a blood transfusion that turns him into a werewolf. Every now then two detectives show up and moan that they are investigating gang shootings when they should be on vacation. In addition, a radio talk show host and an ostensibly German Interpol agent put in appearances for some reason. At this point the relentlessness of the noise, the editing, the overloaded incoherent script, the teeth grindingly awful dialogue becomes too much and the experience becomes a painful blur, something to be endured, that you can brag about to your friends.
Without knowing anything about the film’s production history, I would say that it feels like somebody has got hold of some half-finished footage and gamely tried to stitch something together as quickly and cheaply as possible, to shove out to an unsuspecting audience. The video box promises special effects from “the creators of Terminator 2”, but wisely avoids getting bogged down in too much detail as to who these people might be.
Demon Cop is hard to describe or write about and it’s even harder to recommend. Frankly if the inmates at Guantanamo Bay had been subjected to this rather than waterboarding, they would have sung like canaries. However, if you do get to the end with your brain catching fire, pat yourself on the back, as you will have joined a very elite club.
When watching Shakespeare on the big screen I always look for how the director has adapted the play for the medium. Franco Zefferelli's Hamlet is an excellent example of someone willing to expand the text in such a manner, but despite a relentless pace, an epic feel, and an excellent supporting cast, the film is let down by the star.
Although largely faithful in story and setting to the play, Zefferelli has chopped and changed the text slightly. The changes make for an interesting, pacey film, that those not familiar with the text can follow, and shows he is not intimidated or overawed by the thought of taking on Shakespeare.
Even with the cuts the films still retains the themes of loyalty, betrayal, madness, life and death, and Zefferelli plays up the Oedipal sexual tension between Hamlet and Gertrude (played by Glenn Close), without it ever spilling over into being sleazy.
Much of the film was shot on location at Dover Castle in Kent, as well as several places in Scotland, and this helps to anchor the events in reality, as does a lack of any expressionistic flourishes.
Unfortunately, the main problem with this version of the story is the star, with Gibson trying too hard to be a serious actor, relying far too on raised eyebrows and bulging eyes to convey intensity and drama, leaving a performance that is ultimately earnest, but flat. In addition, Gibson looks too old to convince as a troubled youth, something only accentuated when he is next to Glenn Close (in real life there is only 10 years between them).
Thankfully there is an excellent supporting cast, led by particularly the experienced Shakespearian types such as Paul Scofield, Alan Bates, and Ian Holm, who effortlessly breathe life into the text.
Judged as Shakespeare, this is not a classic Hamlet, lacking the depth and gravitas of other stage and screen versions (particularly Olivier's 1948 film, and Kenneth Branagh's 1996 version). However, it is certainly a good introduction to the play for the uninitiated, and judged purely as a stand-alone film, it makes for entertaining, and, at times, thought provoking cinema.
