One-Eyed Jacks (1961)

One-Eyed Jacks
Starring: Marlon Brando, Karl Malden, Slim Pickens
Director: Marlon Brando
Writers: Charles Neider (novel), Guy Trosper, Calder Willingham
Genre: Western
Year: 1961
My rating: 

The story behind ONE-EYED JACKS appears to have been almost as interesting as the plot which unfolds on the screen. Rod "The Twilight Zone" Serling wrote a rejected treatment of the book this film was based on. The original director attached to the project was none other than a young Stanley Kubrick. Eventually, the star and director ended up being the same person -- Marlon Brando. The film reunited him with co-star Karl Malden; the pair having had worked together before in the classic ON THE WATERFRONT.

So dark is this story, that even Slim Pickens is playing a manipulative bastard with few redeeming characteristics. ONE-EYED JACKS is basically a story of betrayal -- a topic it explores right from the film's opening set piece. Trapped, and with only one person able to escape, Karl Malden's character promises to seek help quickly and return to save Marlon Brando from the law. Instead he takes their stolen loot and makes a run for it.

Brando spends the next five years in prison because of this and most of that time he broods over his betrayal at the hands of a man he nicknamed "Dad". No doubt the fact that Brando himself manipulated the game of chance which sent Malden off as the one to find help ate away at him. Once escaping prison, he quickly meets up with another band of outlaws. But their plans of more bank heists are secondary. Brando is more interested in revenge. He quickly catches up with Malden, but instead of exacting his vengeance quickly, he picks a more protracted method. Favoring to pretend there are no hard feelings, he bides his time in order to heighten his former partner's suffering.

It's almost wearying to watch this unfold. Brando cheerfully proclaims that he bears no malice, but covertly plans his revenge. Malden swears he trusts Brando, but has machinations of his own. The audience must simply watch as these two men get deeper and deeper into their own games.

What's delicious about this movie is that you can connect a line between every individual character and each person they encounter. And almost every single one of those lines draws a deceitful relationship. Brando deceives Malden, Malden's daughter and every woman he meets. Malden lies to Brando and his own family. Malden's daughter hides the truth from her father. Slim Pickens tries double crossing everyone he meets. It's dizzying to keep up with what the actual reality of the film is.

As far as revenge films goes, this is good, but not great. The vengeance is interesting to watch from the point of view of the audience, yet it's not quite as engaging as it could have been. I felt simultaneously intrigued and removed from the action.

Where the film does get a boost though is from the performances of the two stars. This shouldn't be a surprise. Even in places where the script drags, watching Malden and Brando as they plot and scheme with each other while also trying to figure out the other guy's motivation is always fun.

The Digiview Productions edition of this film is presented in widescreen. The picture and sound quality are more than adequate, although they could definitely benefit from some digital cleanup.

If you like movies where the only characters with redeeming qualities are given less than half a dozen lines each, then ONE EYED JACKS should be right up your alley. But you might want to draw a flow-chart while watching so that you can keep track of everyone's ulterior motives.

Heaven's Fire (1999)

Heaven's Fire
Starring: Eric Roberts, Jürgen Prochnow
Director: David Warry-Smith
Writers: Rob Kerchner, Charles Philip Moore 
Genre: Action
Year: 1999
My rating: 

If Dave Matthews tried to teach us that the afterlife is a nice house with central heating, then HEAVEN'S FIRE would have us believe that heaven is a large Federal building in Seattle, Washington.

The plot of HEAVEN'S FIRE is slight, even for an action movie. A gang of nasty scallywags have decided to hijack a helicopter, land on the roof of a United States Treasury building and steal a set of metal plates used for printing money. They didn't count on two things. The first thing they didn't anticipate was their helicopter crashing and setting the building on fire. The also didn't count on Eric Roberts who happens to be present during the heist and who also happens to be a former Federal agent. 

The band of outlaws is led by Jürgen "Waiter, I'd like my proch now" Prochnow. He's German, which means that his accent sounds really cool when delivering his bad-guy action movie catch phrases, but is almost indecipherable when attempting actual exposition. This isn't much of a problem though, as one should be able to follow the story even with the sound turned down to zero.

Of course, every story of good vs. evil needs its group of utterly helpless innocent bystanders. In this case, it's a tour group that was visiting the Treasury when the armed robbery began. Once the helicopter crashes into the side of the building, the easily panicked, multi-ethnic group morphs into the cast of THE POSEIDON ADVENTURE who must be led floor-by-floor away from the various dangers.

Rounding out the cast is Eric Roberts' girlfriend who is the leader of the tour group. She has a daughter from a previous marriage, and Eric Roberts has a son. He's a moody, introspective loner. She's an all-American Valley girl. Can these two people share an action movie without driving each other crazy?

Maintaining the connection to the outside world is the standard action movie Useless Authority Figure. In this case, it's someone very high up in the Treasure Department who bullies his way into being in charge of disaster recovery (you can make your own FEMA jokes here). In my mind, I deleted this actor and replaced him with Alan Greenspan. To demonstrate his stupidity, his first scene features his asking if the two fires burning independently in different parts of the skyscraper will cancel out each other. 

So there you have it. Burning building. Good guy. Bad guys. Cannon fodder.

This is all standard stuff for a cheesy action movie. But this actually is a good cheesy action movie. It's entertaining. It's fun. It's good harmless escapism. It's exciting when it needs to be. The dialog is just goofy and silly enough to be enjoyable.

It must be said that the film is extremely predictable (apart from one genuinely good twist near the end), but this is where the film's short running time (80 minutes) comes to its rescue. The pacing is pretty good. No scene outlasts its welcome and the action keeps going to prevent the story from becoming stagnant. 

Of course, the film can't escape the fact that it's a relatively low budget affair. Take, for example, the scene where the civilians are trapped in a stairwell which is slowly collapsing. Eric Roberts' son has an entire flight of concrete stairs fall on his head. This results in a small cut on his forehead and minor bleeding. I laughed. And I give the film credit for this, because at the end of the day, I don't care if I'm laughing with or at a movie. If I'm entertained, I'm happy.

Stanley (1972)

Stanley
Starring: Chris Robinson, Alex Rocco, Steve Alaimo
Director: William Grefe
Writers: William Grefe, Gary Crutcher 
Genre: Horror
Year: 1972
My rating: 

STANLEY is one of the more repugnant films I've seen a long time. What the producers lacked in technical prowess, they more than match in their ability to create utterly loathsome and unappealing characters. I didn't like this film from the beginning, but the longer it went on, the more I was appalled that anyone would think this was a story worth telling or that it featured characters worth sharing. There is very little to recommend about this film.

The plot is very thin. Tim Ochopee is a Native American recently back from army service in Vietnam. The experience has left him a broken man, shunning all human contact (including the Indian tribe he formerly lived with) and existing purely to improve the lives of the local snake life, his only friends in the world. As the film progresses the snakes become his hit men, taking the lives of all the people he perceives have wronged him in the past.

One of the movie's moral lessons is that where the white man goes, he brings nothing but pain and misery. It is difficult to argue against this when one realizes that the white man created the film industry which in turn produced the film STANLEY. Of course -- to be fair -- the black man is not exactly given the most flattering portrayal either. Nor does the Indian come across very well all things considered. In fact, watching this film makes one feel a little worse about all of humanity. I myself felt a little less than civilized after sitting through this, and I hadn't even been born when the movie was first released.

Tim has many snakes living in cages in his shack. His favorite snake is named Stanley (presumably for the sole purpose of allowing the graphics department use a cartoon snake to represent the "S" in the film's title card). He takes his snakes on field trips to seedy nightclubs where the two of them watch a particular stripper who dances with a snake. I get the impression that Tim was checking out the lady's snake, while his snake was checking out the stripper.

An odd subplot involves the use of the snakes in the strip act mentioned above. The manager of the shady strip club is convinced that an animal-cruelty stunt will be a great boon for business. Apparently he is unaware that he is the manager of a shady strip club and that no one cares about snakes. At least, not the two-eyed snakes on the stage.

The costume department presumably intended to make everyone look absolutely up-to-date and modern, and consequently everyone looks incredibly 70s. Everyone seems to be wearing their shirts unbuttoned to their navels, have gaudy gold medallions around their necks and have been poured into their hideously colored bell-bottoms.

Now, reading the description, one may wonder why I was so averse to this film. It certainly sounds like cheesy fun. Low budget filmmaking, bad 1970s fashion, snakes visiting strip clubs. But trust me, there's little fun to be had. The problem is not merely that the plot is paper thin, uninspired and predictable. It's also that everyone in this film is particularly and overwhelmingly loathsome. 

And I don't mean the people are merely "bad guys". Movie bad guys can be perfectly watchable, entertaining and enjoyable. Think of the questionable morality of the characters played by Lee van Cleef, Malcolm McDowell or Vincent Price; you want to watch them, not because they're "good", but because they're interesting. Yet the characters here are utterly lacking in charisma, they're purposelessly sadistic and are fundamentally banal.

You can't even cheer their bad behavior, because it's virtually impossible to feel any sympathy for their point of view. Take the scene where the protagonist brutally kills two heavies. Up until this point in the film, the pair have been portrayed entirely as stock comic relief characters. Yes, they try to capture some snakes for nefarious purposes, but they're played as total incompetents. For example, one of their raids ends in disaster as one one guy gets bitten on the backside and cannot sit down on his ride to the hospital. And we go from this to a sequence where the two slowly and painfully drown in quicksand while Tim throws a poisonous snake on them. It as disconcerting as it would be to watch the Road Runner submitting Wile E. Coyote to waterboarding, or Bugs Bunny violently ripping out Elmer Fudd's fingernails. 

By about the halfway point, I started wishing the venomous snakes would immediately bite every character so I wouldn't have to look at them anymore. While I eventually got most of my wish, the film took way too long to kill off its unpleasant cast. I usually watch these films twice before writing a review, but this time I decided I wasn't going to do that to myself. I can't recommend this film to anyone but the snakes in the audience who wish to assert their moral and artistic superiority over bonehead human film producers. And I cannot at the moment say I disagree with the snakes.

The Snake People (1971)

The Snake People (a.k.a. Isle of the Snake People, a.k.a. Isle of the Living Dead, a.k.a. La Muerte Viviente)
Starring: Boris Karloff, Julissa, Ralph Bertrand, Tongolele
Directors: Juan Ibáñez, Jack Hill
Writers: Jack Hill (screenplay), Juan Ibáñez, Luis Enrique Vergara 
Genre: Horror
Year: 1971
My rating: 

I have no idea what THE SNAKE PEOPLE was all about and I suspect no one involved with the production knew either. Least of all was probably poor old Boris Karloff who made this film very near the end of his life. While the large majority of the film was shot in Mexico (in a neat reversal for anyone who has seen Charlton Heston in TOUCH OF EVIL, here several Mexican actors and actresses are playing Caucasians), Karloff never left a sound stage in California. As disjointed as it sounds for a movie to take place with its star far removed from his surroundings and his co-stars, even the non-Karloff scenes add up to a lot of nothing. I've seen many low budget films, but it really is rare to see one that so blatantly throws random images and sequences upon the screen with so little regard for order, logic or reason.

For starters, let's take the opening scene. A witch doctor and what I assume to be his follower are performing a voodoo ceremony. The witch doctor is a dwarf. He's wearing a very neat, black suit jacket, a blue Hawaiian shirt, a black top hat, white opera gloves and some seriously nice bling around his neck. He wears his sunglasses at night. He raises a woman from the dead. Costuming aside, it's a fairly standard scene for a voodoo movie. Except that there is no context here, nor does the film ever reveal any. Why does the witch doctor affect a James Bond villain style cackle throughout the entire ceremony? Why does he start sobbing and rubbing his companion's hand across his face?

My guess is that the only reason this film has even the relatively low status associated with a One Dollar DVD release is the inclusion of Boris Karloff. As noted above, he is far removed from the action. Even before I consulted the Internet, one could tell that Karloff was not a well man when he made this. Not only was he not able to travel to Mexico for filming, most of the scenes he is in feature him sitting down. When he does stand it is with use of a cane, and his only relatively strenuous sequence requires that he lean heavily on a table. It's actually depressing, especially if one is used to seeing a younger, more robust Karloff holding his own with various monsters and heroes.

In the scenes where Karloff would have to interact with his fellow cast members in Mexico, the character helpfully dons a black, face-covering ski-mask and sunglasses. But don't worry, he'll still be smoking his cigar, so you won't miss that it's him. Although actually the double looks more like Groucho Marx ready to hold up a liquor store than he resembles Boris Karloff. I couldn't help but whistle "Hooray For Captain Spaulding" whenever he appeared.

The story begins with Karloff's niece coming to visit him on the remote Pacific island where he makes his home. The niece is an rabid prohibitionist and is hoping her uncle will support the organization to which she belongs. What actual support he could provide from his remote bachelor pad/island is not obvious. Of course, once she catches up with Karloff all thoughts of continuing the cause are forgotten (apart from a few scenes where she lightly admonishes her love interest's drinking habits). 

Naturally, this being a remote colonial island, there are all manner of cultists and so forth. Now here is where the story begins breaking down. The island contains a voodoo cult, a roaming gang of cannibal woman (who hide in the shadows and suddenly leap out at their victims and eat them raw) and a religion of people where somehow snakes are involved in their ceremonies. I paid close attention both times I watched this film, and I'm still not sure what all these groups have to do with each other. The snake people are killing folks with snake venom. The voodoo people are raising them up again. And the cannibal woman are eating the living. I'm not sure how they are related. Are they all the snake people of the title? Are the voodoo people and cannibals merely a subset of the snake people? Are they allies? The cannibal women seem completely on their own, and I simply could not work out the relationship these groups had. I suspect the cannibal woman escaped from some other movie set and spent their time running in and out of the shooting script for this film.

The niece isn't the only newcomer to the island. The land is a French possession, and a French captain of police has arrived in order to suppress the local witchcraft because of concerns on "the mainland". The movie is very vague on its moral message. It jumps repeatedly back and forth between arguing that the Europeans shouldn't be interfering in other people's religions and saying that the natives' religion is nuttier than squirrel poop and of course it should be stopped.

I had a very difficult time tying enough of the plot strands together to present it to you in a coherent fashion. Then I figured that if the producers didn't care, then I won't either. I'll simply list some of the more notable sub-plots:

1. Karloff and his maid are doing some sort of experimentation in telekinesis and pyrokinesis. He claims that moving small mirrors on a table and the ability to light grass on fire will rid the world of disease, war and even death. Good luck with all that. As you may imagine, the experimentation/scientific aspect of this disappears after its initial scene. I have no idea if this plot point is something he learned from the voodoo people, the snake people or the cannibal people. (See above. Maybe Karloff acquired it from all three.)

2. A random filthy white guy on the island attempts dancing with -- and later seducing -- a reanimated female corpse. This is just as icky as it sounds. I can't figure out who this guy is supposed to be. He's shown in one scene to be a Karloff's friend, but there's no explanation as to what he's doing. Is he a fellow scientist? Was he shipwrecked? Is he a traveler? Is he a witch doctor? Is he a voodoo practitioner? Apart from admiring his panama hat, I could find no purpose for his inclusion in the film.

3. Karloff's maid (who looks shockingly like Fergie from The Black Eyed Peas) keeps belly-dancing with a snake. I'm sure this is supposed to demonstrate something about the snake people's religion, but I have no idea what that could be.

4. If you thought the "belly-dancing with a snake" line above was just overflowing with tawdry innuendo, then wait until you get a load of the niece's dream sequence. All I say is that she dreams that there are two of her and one keeps putting a snake in her mouth.

That disparate list should give you some idea of the mental gymnastics your brain will have to undergo to follow the story. And it's a good indication of what the movie feels like as a whole. Not only are random plot points brought up and immediately thrown away, on the visual side, images and shots are handled the same way, with apparently random pictures being indiscriminately hurled at the viewer. The niece's dream sequence is typical. Apart from being loaded with strange sexual imagery and cheap camera tricks (apparently, if you stop film, you can make people blink in and out of existence!), what is the point of it? It doesn't seem to reference any other part of the film. It doesn't affect the way she acts afterwards. It's random imagery for the sake of random imagery.

Now all that being said, I can't say I didn't like it. Usually I get annoyed when a director or writer throws me ninety minutes of surrealism because he finds coherency too hard. But for some reason I found this vaguely appealing. I'm sure most of this sprung from the fact that I was staring at the screen with my jaw in my lap unable to believe that anyone thought they could get away with this. The movie is relatively coherent through the first third, but it was about at that point that I mentally pictured the director throwing his hands in the air and deciding that anything goes ("We have footage of snakes popping in and out of existence on a coat rack? Yeah, let's go with that!"). I have to admire the sheer audacity involved.

I feel that I have somewhat cheated in this review by simply relating things that occurred and following that by saying that I didn't understand what it was about. But at least I'm being honest. Most of this film simply defies rationality. I dare anyone to watch this film and not be entertained by the sheer randomness of the experience. Although I should warn anyone squeamish that I think the filmmakers really did chop the head off of a live chicken in the opening scene. Viewer beware.

Don't Look In The Basement! (1973)

Don't Look In The Basement!
Starring: Rosie Holotik, William Bill McGhee, Anne MacAdams
Director: S.F. Brownrigg
Writer: Tim Pope
Genre: Horror
Year: 1973
My rating: 

DON'T LOOK IN THE BASEMENT! (including explanation point in the title) is also known as DON'T GO IN THE BASEMENT (without explanation point), or THE FORGOTTEN, or DEATH WARD #13. Whatever it's called, it is one of the strangest movies I've seen in a long time.

The 1970s no-budget horror film seems to be a genre unto itself. Other eras have attempted to counter their lack of funds by introducing certain elements that -- while cheap to produce -- give the film something to offer. In the 70s, they just seemed to throw as much weird stuff as possible at the audience in hopes that some of it would stick.

As an illustration, let me describe for you the film's pre-credits sequence. At a secluded sanatorium for the mentally handicapped, the doctor in charge of the home is extolling the virtues of allowing one of his aggressive patients work out his negative emotions by shouting at him when he chops wood. Moments later, while turning to explain his theories to a bystander, he promptly takes an axe to the back of the neck with predictably bloody results.

A few moments later, a paranoid woman is guarding a child's doll, which she believes is her actual biological infant. The violent outburst she suffers when she thinks her baby has been taken concludes with the strangulation of a nurse. 

I would find it difficult to spoil the plot, because until the last half hour the film really doesn't have much of one. The story is told from the point of view of a Nurse Charlotte Beale (Rosie Holotik, a fetching redhead who modeled for Playboy the previous year). Charlotte arrives during the opening credits and finds herself working in a mental ward full of crazy people (not surprisingly). She is introduced to the stereotypical group of movie mental patients, which include the army sergeant -- traumatized by the deaths of soldiers under his command -- who thinks he is still at war, a nymphomaniac, a middle-aged man convinced he's a judge on the court of appeals, an enormous black man who's had a lobotomy (the movie's gentle giant who loves popsicles and innocently blundering into the film's more disturbing sequences), and an elderly woman who warns of impending danger before apparently cutting out her own tongue. 

As I indicated, most of the film doesn't revolve around a straightforward story. It's more a collection of individual strange scenes, most of which are seemingly unrelated to each other. The movie seemed so disjointed that at times I wondered if this was a deliberate artistic decision. I watched, theorizing if perhaps each scene was being told from the point-of-view of a different mental patient. I came to no definite conclusions, but I state at times it can be difficult to tell whether a director is going for something artsy and meaningful, or if he has simply just lost his mind.

The asylum itself also goes beyond the usual conventions of the closed-door set. While there are rare intrusions from the outside world into the movie, for the most part the characters are emotionally and mentally isolated from the rest of the world – but not physically. In other movies (say, for example, THE HOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL), the characters may wish to leave their creepy location, but are prevented from doing do via a plot convenience. Here, leaving the house just doesn't seem to occur to anyone for most of the movie, even if doing so would behoove them greatly. It either adds to the dream-like feeling the film possesses (if you're feeling charitable) or is another oversight by the writer (if you're not).

I'm giving this film a slightly positive rating based solely on the fact that it didn't bore me. It puzzled me, confused me and disgusted me, but I can't say I was bored. Even the middle section which does drag on and on kept from being boring by becoming progressively more insane as time passed.

On the other hand, trying to take this seriously is an uphill endeavor (made more arduous by the fact that the film seems to take itself extremely seriously). Trying to find any logic to most of this stuff is next to impossible. To be fair, there is an extremely neat plot twist near the end. Part of my surprise was no doubt based on the fact that I hadn't even expected anything approaching cause-and-effect. But even starting with extremely low expectations, you can see moments where someone obvious put some thought into this.

The production itself looks very low-budget. I wouldn't be surprised if it was filmed in one of the production crew's parents' house over a three-day weekend. It's a very sparse set which gives the film a visually bleak flavor. It's a disturbingly claustrophobic feeling; the exact opposite of those 1950s horror movies that took place inside massive, spacious mansions with foreboding shadows. Here you can immediately imagine trying to squeeze past one of the house's inmates in a narrow, too brightly-lit hallway while they make their way towards one of the bare, tiny rooms. It's depressing to watch even before you take into account the murders, the madness and the mayhem.

It's hard to tell if the picture and sound of Digiview Productions release are a decent reproduction. The image is often overly whitewashed, but that may have been what the original production crew intended. 

However, there is some censoring present which will no doubt offend the purists. While a Digiview disc of a different movie that I watched simply pixelled out the nudity leaving the scene more or less intact, here they seem to have taken out the scissors and clumsily removed any frame containing the nude form (and possibly any frames which happened to be nearby). This renders one scene completely incomprehensible. We go straight from the beginning of a sex scene, jump to some random images of people's faces and end in one of the participants leaping up and down on a bed, laughing hysterically and flinging laundry out of a door. In any other movie this would appear odd; here, it seems about par for the course.

Presumably, the producers felt they could play fast and loose with logic, based on the idea that a movie about crazy people doesn't have to make any sense. It sort of works. While I can't see myself ever wanting to watch it again, I did enjoy the mental explosions that went off in my head as I tried to make some kind of sense of the images presented before me. This is not for the faint of stomach, or for anyone prone to headaches. But if the cinematic equivalent of a mental breakdown combined with 1970s horror gore is something that sounds appealing to you, then you should give this one a look.

Mr. Atlas (1997)

Mr. Atlas
Starring: Diederik, T.J. Lowther, Laura Johnson and Timothy Bottoms
Director: Karen Arbeeny
Writer: Rachel Gordon
Genre: Kids
Year: 1997
My rating: 

Once, while not enjoying the fruits of my explorations through the one dollar DVD bin at Wal*Mart, I thought to myself that there is very little that is less endurable than a comedy film that fails at being funny. It turns out that the sliver of awfulness that is worse is a bad kid's movie.

There's something about a uninspired children's film that causes everyone involved to forget everything they learned in film school. The writing becomes lazy. The actors go completely over the top. The director relies on gimmicks. I presume that people involved with the production assume that children don't know the difference between good movie-making and bad, and therefore simply do whatever comes easiest and hope no one in the target audience notices. 

The truth, of course, is that naturally children know when something is good or bad. They may not be able to articulate it, but they are fully aware of when a piece of entertainment is causing them to yawn, shift uncomfortably in their chairs, or simply become violently ill due to its complete awfulness.

This particular piece of nonsense -- MR ATLAS -- posits that the Atlas of Greek mythology (you'll remember him as the Titan who holds the weight of the world on his shoulder) has been trapped in a cave in Utah for these past millennia. Released from his bonds by a supposedly precocious ten-year-old boy (Danny), he vows to serve this child as his servant, teaching this youngster about, um, life stuff, while uncomfortably flirting with the kid's hot aunt.

Now the funny thing is that I imagine anyone reading this won't have actually seen this film. And yet you probably know exactly how this plot (what there is of it) is going to unfold.

Atlas will be introduced to the modern world. He'll complain about how bad the air smells nowadays. He'll be dumbfounded by cars. He'll talk in flowery language about his chick who lives in the heavens.

There's just one thing missing, you say: the bad guy. The film needs some kind of smarmy villain. Not an overly powerful super-villain. Just someone greedy and self-serving, someone who's after money for money's sake, and who doesn't have any real motivation to be in the film except to hate the kid and serve as a foil to Atlas.

Enter Timothy Bottoms. He's not just the villain, he's also the sole reason I bought this damn DVD (I usually draw the line on this side of purchasing kid's movies, no matter how cheap they are). Bottoms is notable for having played President George W. Bush in the short lived Trey Parker and Matt Stone Comedy Central sitcom, "That's My Bush!". Here, Bottoms is playing an evil, manipulative businessman, only interested in using people to obtain the natural resources on their property, and with an unfortunate tendency to wave guns around and shoot innocents. That's right; the man famous for playing George Bush is here portraying a man exactly like Dick Cheney. (And for anyone keeping track at home, Bottoms' henchman is a dumb, slow, unintelligent, amiable dope who has a habit of repeating exactly what Bottoms has just said. Make of that what you will.)

I'll discuss the plot now, only out of a sense of obligation rather than the joy I would otherwise experience from introducing people to something new. Actually, I think I accidentally described most of the plot already. Danny is a typical bullied, preyed-upon ten-year-old being raised by his aunt after the clichéd death of his parents. The only major figures in his life are his wealthy aunt (nice, but gullible), his aunt's boyfriend (Timothy Bottoms), and the stereotypical drunken Irishman who tends to the aunt's ranch and dispenses recycled and uninspired stories about local hidden treasure.

Danny fancies himself as an explorer (his parents were archaeologists) and goes off in search of hidden treasure. His quest brings him to a hole in the ground. His encounter with this geographic feature is to do exactly what movie heroes have done for decades before him. He falls into it. All is not lost though (we're less than fifteen minutes into the film at this point). He accidentally releases Atlas from his millennia-long sleep, which promptly puts the audience into a slumber of a similar duration. (Though in a genuinely nice nod to the original myths, apples made of gold are strewn throughout Atlas' cave). 

From here on out, the plot takes the expected aforementioned "twists". Evil boyfriend tries to trick the aunt into signing away the rights to the land containing the golden apples; dumb Atlas gets a haircut and tries to figure out how underpants work. A fact which may only amuse me is that the actor/model playing Atlas is named in the credits only as "Diederik". It's rare to find a person with only one name who can act, and if you're looking for one here, you can keep searching.

Perhaps I am being unfair to this movie; after all I am not a younger person and clearly this movie wouldn't be aimed at me. However, I am confident that children would have better taste than to enjoy this movie. Perhaps one must be extremely young, say, still residing in a womb to extract pleasure from MR ATLAS. Or maybe by "younger", the filmmakers were aiming at "younger" on an evolutionary scale. There may indeed be a group of dull monkeys out there, huddled around their DVD players and requesting to watch again "The one with big, smart Mr. Atlas! Ooo oooo oooooo!"

Diamondbacks (1998)

Diamondbacks
Starring: Miles O'Keeffe, Chris "Son of Robert" Mitchum and Timothy Bottoms
Director: Bernard Salzmann
Writer: Rachel Gordon
Genre: Action
Year: 1998
My rating: 

I bought DIAMONDBACKS primarily because of two of the names on the cover.

1) Miles O'Keeffe. I fondly remember the joke from the CAVE DWELLERS episode of "Mystery Science Theater 3000" when O'Keeffe's name appears in the opening credits. "How much Keeffe is in this movie?" asks one of the crew. The answer: "*Miles* O' Keeffe".

2) Timothy Bottoms. When I saw that name, I desperately tried to remember why it was so familiar. Suddenly, it came to me. Timothy Bottoms portrayed President Bush in the short lived Trey Parker and Matt Stone sitcom from 2001, "That's My Bush!".

With those two happy names in the credits, I figured that they'd make the movie at minimum bearable. I mean, a George Bush look-a-like in an action movie has to be worth at least a chuckle, right?

Wrong.

Mostly, because this movie is far too boring to be much fun.

The film opens with NASA shuttle Atlantis successfully lifting off. The televised launch angers a lot of white guys living out in the middle of nowhere. It turns out that the shuttle is not just a force for science; it's also carrying a new super spy-satellite that will allow the United States government to track everyone in the world including its own citizens. And it turns out the angry drifters aren't just grumpy and disaffected; they're also all members of a militia group bend on cutting the government down to size.

This militia (called "Diamondbacks") means business. How do we know they mean business? Because we watch them endlessly packing up every piece of military equipment and dark clothing they posses in a sequence that seems to last as long as the entirety of THE WACKIEST WAGON TRAIN IN THE WEST. And if that isn't torture enough, minutes later we're treated to an even more lengthy sequence where the militia plant explosives in the town courthouse. I'm sure the viewer was supposed to be impressed by how hard they are, but all I got out of it (while trying to stay awake) is that this militia is great at sneaking around in the dark and taking a long time to put pieces of equipment next to other pieces of equipment.

Diamondback's plan is to take over the remote communications station which relays all communications activity between NASA ground control and the shuttle. After invading this location (out in the desert with no guards and only two technicians on duty), they will transmit a computer virus onto the satellite which would give them compete control. And this should give you, gentle reader, an idea of the kind of implausible situations, clichéd scenes and cardboard characterizations that make this movie the trainwreck that it is.

I'm guessing that the real NASA -- understaffed they may be -- would post at least one rent-a-cop at the door to their only link to the shuttle. The only thing they use to deter potential terrorism threats is an unassuming stop sign on the road leading into the complex. I have yet to hear of a terrorist who kills freely and risks death, but who has a fanatic devotion to obeying state and local traffic laws.

Several plot points are only possible because the film's protagonist has the uncanny ability to telephone straight in to a local radio DJ multiple times. Not only does she seem to work at the station morning, noon, and night, he must be her sole listener. (Had any of the screenwriters ever tried calling a radio station? Even when you're not trying to win free U2 tickets, it's a near impossible feat to accomplish even once in a day.)

Now, it's a bit unfair of me to criticize the movie for not being realistic when I bought it in the hopes of it merely being amusing. Unfortunately, the movie isn't terribly distracting or entertaining. Instead of goofy, silly scenes, I just got long drawn-out scenes of guys growling boring clichés at each other. If you're going to have a film with nothing but clichés, make them fun, over the top clichés. No overbearing boss shouting at his underlings. No self-righteous bad guy. No protagonist worrying about his wife and little girl at home. Been there; done that; seen it on "Mystery Science Theater".

Worse than characters growling speeches at each other are the action sequences. I realize that it's incredibly difficult to make a good chase sequence with not a lot of money, but I've seen other movies do a lot more with a lot less. At some point during the filming, someone needed to point out that it just wasn't working. If all you have are four vehicles and one long, straight dirt road, then maybe two extended chase scenes aren't in your film's best interests. (Actually, I should give the director some credit, because when the chases move outside of the vehicles and the characters are chasing each other around the power-station equipment, it approaches interesting. It's a pity though that those scenes end up being marred by the extremely fake sound effects on the guns.)

Apart from the film's obligatory easily-bamboozled henchmen, there were a few characters worth watching. I liked Miles O'Keeffe as the head of the Diamondback militia, if only because he managed to make all of his speeches perfectly through clenched teeth.

I will also admit to being amused by Timothy Bottoms' physical resemblance to President George W. Bush. And if the thought of Bush as the clear-headed, quick-thinking, no-nonsense manager of all NASA ground operations doesn't bring at least a smile to your face, then there's no hope of you extracting any enjoyment from this movie.