robotman-1
Joined Jun 2001
Welcome to the new profile
We're still working on updating some profile features. To see the badges, ratings breakdowns, and polls for this profile, please go to the previous version.
Reviews28
robotman-1's rating
I don't know what movie the reviewers are seeing, and the commentaries here border on moronic babble. RESIDENT EVIL represents one thing clearly, and that is the generation gap between lovers of good b-movies and horror films and the younger folks who don't have the background to dig what RE does. What the stupid slobbering gore-twits and the "film" snobs are missing is RE's true, uncompromising nature; no self-referential, humorous one-liners or pompous revision of the Zombie Attack genre. RE revels in understanding what is terrifying about the living dead.
That understanding? The impending attacks, the coming of the zombies, their craven need. Zombie movies prey psychologically: they are out there, they will not stop, they want us, they ARE us. That's the horror behind the Zombie, that's what makes the Zombie truly unstoppable--as long as we exist, the Zombies will exist.
The attack scenes are hardcore enough, coupled with any lifelong Zombie lover's imagination, to provide the truly impressive tension that drives RE. All credit for that should go to Anderson the director and writer: he manages a strong, kinetic movie devoid of the worst of horror cliches--in fact, Anderson manages to respect the audience enough to give them genuinely eerie imagery; I had no problem accepting the world of the Hive, of the Umbrella Co, and of the T-Virus.
And Milla Jovovich is superb; a fantastic actress entering her prime gig in RE. She manages to show human frailty even as she displays very cool martial abilities. Jovovich is simply perfect as a beautiful woman discovering that she is a high-level professional killer as unstoppable as the waves of zombies that descend on her.
Anyone who loves good, solid, uncompromising horror films should check this out (uncompromising up to a point, of course; at certain points, gore in grand quantities SHOULD have come, for the story dictates it; the gore is minimized, and you can thank the same board restrictions that have voided most realistic violence and sex from films and replaced it with cartoons--a Zombie movie is a gore movie, and at some point, as Romero knew, you have to show just how awful it is to be eaten alive). But let me say this: I'm willing to pass up on the hardcore viscera in order to get a full-bodied, enjoyable, and non-idiotic horror movie. I'll even accept the poor CGI on the inhuman monsters, the non-zombies, to get zombies back on the screen again.
Certainly RE is a step in the right direction. For everyone wishing for the return of the horror film to full popularity, RE's as good as it gets. As the 1950s science fiction movies led to the '60s psycho fests and then to '70s mind-blowing blood-letting, all gore-hounds should keep in mind that good Zombie movies without the intestines will only open the door to movies that DO contain those scenes, and for all other American films to loosen the restrictions. But RE proves it isn't necessary, and even if we don't see the flesh tearing and the brains blowing out of the back of the head, our minds perceive it, and our minds are where the zombies have always fed most heartily.
Excellent movie. Don't miss it.
That understanding? The impending attacks, the coming of the zombies, their craven need. Zombie movies prey psychologically: they are out there, they will not stop, they want us, they ARE us. That's the horror behind the Zombie, that's what makes the Zombie truly unstoppable--as long as we exist, the Zombies will exist.
The attack scenes are hardcore enough, coupled with any lifelong Zombie lover's imagination, to provide the truly impressive tension that drives RE. All credit for that should go to Anderson the director and writer: he manages a strong, kinetic movie devoid of the worst of horror cliches--in fact, Anderson manages to respect the audience enough to give them genuinely eerie imagery; I had no problem accepting the world of the Hive, of the Umbrella Co, and of the T-Virus.
And Milla Jovovich is superb; a fantastic actress entering her prime gig in RE. She manages to show human frailty even as she displays very cool martial abilities. Jovovich is simply perfect as a beautiful woman discovering that she is a high-level professional killer as unstoppable as the waves of zombies that descend on her.
Anyone who loves good, solid, uncompromising horror films should check this out (uncompromising up to a point, of course; at certain points, gore in grand quantities SHOULD have come, for the story dictates it; the gore is minimized, and you can thank the same board restrictions that have voided most realistic violence and sex from films and replaced it with cartoons--a Zombie movie is a gore movie, and at some point, as Romero knew, you have to show just how awful it is to be eaten alive). But let me say this: I'm willing to pass up on the hardcore viscera in order to get a full-bodied, enjoyable, and non-idiotic horror movie. I'll even accept the poor CGI on the inhuman monsters, the non-zombies, to get zombies back on the screen again.
Certainly RE is a step in the right direction. For everyone wishing for the return of the horror film to full popularity, RE's as good as it gets. As the 1950s science fiction movies led to the '60s psycho fests and then to '70s mind-blowing blood-letting, all gore-hounds should keep in mind that good Zombie movies without the intestines will only open the door to movies that DO contain those scenes, and for all other American films to loosen the restrictions. But RE proves it isn't necessary, and even if we don't see the flesh tearing and the brains blowing out of the back of the head, our minds perceive it, and our minds are where the zombies have always fed most heartily.
Excellent movie. Don't miss it.
In the film PLANET OF THE VAMPIRES, there is an undeniable creeping dread, a very real sense of terror, in every scene. Despite the obvious lack of money, Bava wrung some eerie, disturbing imagery out of his sf schlock piece. Considering this is an Italian production of the mid-60s, director Bava infuses some real originality into his story, taking a 1950s crew of square-jawed astronauts and forcing them to confront the future of horror: a horde of gore-streaked zombies, an omnipresent supernatural force invading the crew's minds, and a nihilistic ending.
What is great about POTV stems from Bava, his dynamic camera, and his framing. The marooned spacecraft atop a craggy hillside, approached by rescuing astronauts, looks like a haunted house against the black-clouded sky of the planet. When the living dead begin stalking the pitted, fiery surface of the planet, intent on killing the astronauts, Bava effectively uses the new horror icons of fear: not of fear, but of zombiefication, of characters who could be us, once just human, but now horribly returned as mutilated living corpses set to kill friends and family.
PLANET OF THE VAMPIRES is exciting, arresting in places, and nuanced in small ways even by the actors involved, all of them physically fit with numerous fight scenes. Sullivan and Bengall aren't creating their
characters, but they react realistically as human beings in an increasingly hopeless situation. The final scenes, of the
astronauts attempt to escape the planet, set upon by the living dead, have a psychological edge to go along with the action, as these noble travelers overcome their fear of the planet, of the zombies, and the horrible prospect of becoming zombies themselves, in order to end the hungering menace all around them. These scenes predate the best of George Romero's DEAD films or any John Carpenter flick, where a group of survivors are whittled down to just a few, and then to one, by a wave of seemingly unstoppable supernatural force.
It should be noted that "vampires" refer to parasites, not classic monsters, and truly this is more of a "zombie" film than a "vampire" movie. The film Bava made is gory and violent for 1965 when it was released, and as interesting as it was then, it's just as interesting now to see how POTV influenced later horror-film greats, not only in theory but in execution. And it's still better than 95 percent of the recent Hollywood sf-horror films of the past decade, bar none.
What is great about POTV stems from Bava, his dynamic camera, and his framing. The marooned spacecraft atop a craggy hillside, approached by rescuing astronauts, looks like a haunted house against the black-clouded sky of the planet. When the living dead begin stalking the pitted, fiery surface of the planet, intent on killing the astronauts, Bava effectively uses the new horror icons of fear: not of fear, but of zombiefication, of characters who could be us, once just human, but now horribly returned as mutilated living corpses set to kill friends and family.
PLANET OF THE VAMPIRES is exciting, arresting in places, and nuanced in small ways even by the actors involved, all of them physically fit with numerous fight scenes. Sullivan and Bengall aren't creating their
characters, but they react realistically as human beings in an increasingly hopeless situation. The final scenes, of the
astronauts attempt to escape the planet, set upon by the living dead, have a psychological edge to go along with the action, as these noble travelers overcome their fear of the planet, of the zombies, and the horrible prospect of becoming zombies themselves, in order to end the hungering menace all around them. These scenes predate the best of George Romero's DEAD films or any John Carpenter flick, where a group of survivors are whittled down to just a few, and then to one, by a wave of seemingly unstoppable supernatural force.
It should be noted that "vampires" refer to parasites, not classic monsters, and truly this is more of a "zombie" film than a "vampire" movie. The film Bava made is gory and violent for 1965 when it was released, and as interesting as it was then, it's just as interesting now to see how POTV influenced later horror-film greats, not only in theory but in execution. And it's still better than 95 percent of the recent Hollywood sf-horror films of the past decade, bar none.
This film is about a specific type of people, professional thieves, who are operating in a very rigid and single-minded world: they live to make what is yours, theirs. The men who make up the professional criminal's population are varied, with intelligence not required, but a brute determination to get a job done, get what you are after, and get away from the scene, a must for success and survival.
Percentages are against heist-men, and Hackman's pro trouble-shooter Moore is becoming unusable the older he gets: sooner or later, he's bound to be caught or killed. All the men in Moore's string, Lindo and Jay in particular, are muscle and legs for Moore's articulated plans, they carry it out in physical form while Moore plots his plan B for every conceivable occurrance. In this final blowout of his entire professional career, Moore uses all of his careful deceptions and manipulations as he attempts to rip off a Swedish gold shipment, avoid cops, and deceive the financing shark DeVito who won't let Moore quit the life.
Many commentors on this movie seem confused by David Mamet's writing of these characters, but Mamet does a fabulous job of pointing out the operating mind-set of pro thieves, the violence of hard men working together to obtain a very clear goal, money, while staying out of prison. Mamet states this mind-set most clearly when Hackman's Moore refuses to kill a bank clerk during a robbery, a witness who can identify him, and yet when faced with other professionals who understand the rules and are trying to steal his money, Moore kills them without hesititation. This is part of the understanding among these men, and they accept it in order to survive.
Outside of the Parker novels of Donald Westlake, this is one of the best views of the working relationship among heisters. The interactions are realistic; if Mamet fails, it's where he often fails, in the motivations and decisions of Moore's woman, Fran. Yet here Mamet does again show off a knowledge of a particular kind of woman in a particular kind of world. Fran comes across as a woman undergoing a conflict, based on her life up until now, her understanding of the rules in this world, that a woman is only as good as the criminal she's latched onto; caught in the situation with Moore, who is aging, and who must leave the country to avoid arrest, Fran is loyal up until the moment in which she doubts that Moore really loves her, that in fact he may only be using her as a tool...it's that conflict which makes Fran seem confused, a liability to the film itself. But Fran isn't a liability, and even though Moore trusts her, he makes sure he plans around the possibility of Fran betraying him. Always have a plan B, as Moore points out.
HEIST is a well-executed, uncompromising crime film that isn't being cute with the characterizations, nor does it attempt to imbue the men with sympathy. Like most people, the men outside of the profession have women, some family, a boat, things they care about. It's the one weakness in all of them, that they are human, that gets them taken down in one form or another. Not being machines, the criminals, even pros, make mistakes. Joe Moore turns out to have even more weaknesses than some, but he compensates for them by figuring a way out, or around, the problems of being too-attached, too-trusting. In the end, Moore is a professional, and does whatever he has to to get the final payoff and escape. It's an effort of will that borders on divine, and Hackman makes the divine seem effortless.
Percentages are against heist-men, and Hackman's pro trouble-shooter Moore is becoming unusable the older he gets: sooner or later, he's bound to be caught or killed. All the men in Moore's string, Lindo and Jay in particular, are muscle and legs for Moore's articulated plans, they carry it out in physical form while Moore plots his plan B for every conceivable occurrance. In this final blowout of his entire professional career, Moore uses all of his careful deceptions and manipulations as he attempts to rip off a Swedish gold shipment, avoid cops, and deceive the financing shark DeVito who won't let Moore quit the life.
Many commentors on this movie seem confused by David Mamet's writing of these characters, but Mamet does a fabulous job of pointing out the operating mind-set of pro thieves, the violence of hard men working together to obtain a very clear goal, money, while staying out of prison. Mamet states this mind-set most clearly when Hackman's Moore refuses to kill a bank clerk during a robbery, a witness who can identify him, and yet when faced with other professionals who understand the rules and are trying to steal his money, Moore kills them without hesititation. This is part of the understanding among these men, and they accept it in order to survive.
Outside of the Parker novels of Donald Westlake, this is one of the best views of the working relationship among heisters. The interactions are realistic; if Mamet fails, it's where he often fails, in the motivations and decisions of Moore's woman, Fran. Yet here Mamet does again show off a knowledge of a particular kind of woman in a particular kind of world. Fran comes across as a woman undergoing a conflict, based on her life up until now, her understanding of the rules in this world, that a woman is only as good as the criminal she's latched onto; caught in the situation with Moore, who is aging, and who must leave the country to avoid arrest, Fran is loyal up until the moment in which she doubts that Moore really loves her, that in fact he may only be using her as a tool...it's that conflict which makes Fran seem confused, a liability to the film itself. But Fran isn't a liability, and even though Moore trusts her, he makes sure he plans around the possibility of Fran betraying him. Always have a plan B, as Moore points out.
HEIST is a well-executed, uncompromising crime film that isn't being cute with the characterizations, nor does it attempt to imbue the men with sympathy. Like most people, the men outside of the profession have women, some family, a boat, things they care about. It's the one weakness in all of them, that they are human, that gets them taken down in one form or another. Not being machines, the criminals, even pros, make mistakes. Joe Moore turns out to have even more weaknesses than some, but he compensates for them by figuring a way out, or around, the problems of being too-attached, too-trusting. In the end, Moore is a professional, and does whatever he has to to get the final payoff and escape. It's an effort of will that borders on divine, and Hackman makes the divine seem effortless.