Tag Archives: no nekkid

House of Wax (2005)

So, wow. I can honestly say that I did not expect what I got out of my trip to the movies this morning. House of Wax looks on the surface to be a typical teen slasher pic, with vaguely recognizable male leads (unless I was a 15 year-old girl, in which case I’m pretty sure I’d have posters of them all over my bedroom) and more recognizable female leads (since my house is mostly packed for moving already, I can safely remain mute on this particular topic) all chosen for their relative shirtless hotness, and then sent out into the killing fields for 90 or so minutes of blood-splashing fun.

Don’t get me wrong. It absolutely was every bit of that. It would have to be, in order to achieve an accurate description as ‘American horror, subgenre teen’. But it had several other points of interest. First, I’m noticing a shift in the killer rationale. It used to be, all you had to do to get dead in one of these movies was engage in any of underage drinking, drug use of any kind, or pre-marital second base. These days, it seems like you have to be an asshole first, and then all that other stuff just impairs your judgment instead of being casus belli themselves. I like this, because the killer is then a bit more human.

Additionally, it looks like some people are finally getting it through their heads that it’s time to get back to the root of what made horror movies in the 70s and 80s great. I started out feeling like I knew who would live and who would die, of course, because the trends have gotten way too easy to spot. But by the halfway mark (before anyone actually had died, you understand), I was no longer confident in my picks at all. That’s a good feeling, because it also serves to make everything feel a lot more real.

Most of all, though, from the opening frames, I never felt like they held anything back. Every iota of promise the movie had, it delivered on, including a scenery-chewing finale worthy of Nicholson being directed by Scorsese (although perhaps not in precisely the way you think I mean). Well, almost every iota. There were essentially no boobies, despite half of the female cast being best known for them. (And the topical Paris Hilton jokes were both few and transparent to future viewers who may not get them.) Still, though, I’m prepared to call this the best American horror movie since Scream, or Scream 2 at the outside. (I purposefully leave out Japanese horror and British horror (well, Shaun of the Dead, anyway) to make this comparison. Still, though, it’s high praise. If you see one horror movie this year… well, probably see Dark Water. But if you see one non-Japanese horror movie this year, pick this one. Because it was really, really good.)

Piñata: Survival Island

One of the draws of horror movies, I think, is the predictability. You know that when the group of college greeks heads to the mysterious island to have a contest to see who can find the most pairs of underwear that have been scattered about the place while handcuffed to each other in boy-girl pairs, certain things are assured to result.

One: There will be a deranged madman / terrifying alien creature / evil spirit trapped inside a cabin / thousands of years old spacecraft / clay statue.

Two: Someone will find a way to set loose said terror upon the unsuspecting teenage wasteland. Usually in the completely unrealistic expectation that they are actually finding alcohol, drugs, or possibly a place to have pre-marital sex.

Three: The remaining teenagers will be hunted down, often for crimes similar to the ones perpetrated by whoever did the releasing. Except for the hero and/or heroine, who has what it takes to save the day. Well, for themselves.

The point is, you go in with those expectations, and you deserve to have them met. Are Nicky Brendon and Jaime Pressly adding nuance to their tropes by *not* liking each other? Fine, variety is the spice of life. Does the piñata creature have randomly different forms that don’t seem to have any reasoning behind them? As long as he isn’t faster than the teens running away, who cares? Is Ensign Harry Kim going to make an appearance? The more the merrier, I say.

The problem with Piñata: Survival Island is that, after a promising opening act full of marijuana, Playboy Playmates pretending to be actresses, and lengthy exposition about the history of Cinco de Mayo, the film just plain failed to deliver the goods. Sufficiently menacing evil? When his trademark weapon is a shovel, um, no. Believable ending? I quote myself here, while watching: “That is their big plan?” Naked chicks to distract from the lack in other areas? You know how I mentioned Playmates in the cast earlier? Yeah, well, still no. Inexcusable!

So, to anyone who nearly watched it with me last Halloween? You were right, I was wrong. My bad.

Still, it was pretty funny, for a while.

Anacondas: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid

MV5BNzc5MDg1NTkxNl5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTYwNTcyNjA3._V1__SX1859_SY847_So, right, two movies this afternoon, I said. To give you an idea of how unnecessary this sequel to 1997’s Anaconda was, I had absolutely no memory of the plot of the original, despite having seen it in the theater, too. Not that there’s anything wrong with putting out unnecessary sequels to uninspired monster movies. The direct-to-video market brings in piles of cash every year.

There definitely are things wrong with Anacondas: The Plurality, though. For one thing, it’s not direct-to-video. That’s right, someone thought this movie needed a theatrical run. Despite multiple reasonable opportunites, nobody gets the slightest bit nekkid. And they have one of the most ridiculous logic failures I’ve ever seen.

The plot has two main turning points that get the C-list actors in place so that the snakes can start chowing down. The first is the rarely blooming MacGuffin orchid, which has the power to grant eternal pocketbook growth. So the research team goes to Borneo and hires the one guy crazy enough to take them upriver to where the orchid blooms, during the dreaded rainy season. Then, in the second turning point, the upriver trip is cut short when the boat accidentally goes over a waterfall. One of those rare against the current waterfalls, I guess. Morons.

So, I spent pretty much the whole movie mentally re-writing the dialogue so that it could reach the obvious potential and mentally undressing the two female characters. Not because I really cared how they looked naked, but because the plot so clearly demanded it. I mean, they were both wearing white shirts, the were both constantly soaked, one of them had implied sex before the boat went over the waterfall, and there was even a scene with leeches being removed from people! And yet, nothing. A crime against the genre, by God. PG-13. Geeze.