Roaden Polynice
Superstar
Well. Here we are then.
B-Films are never really all that satisfying to me. Perhaps it is my sense of humor that has ever mutated over the years, or the baggage of experience that I heave into every film that I watch, but the appeal of B-Movies has been lost on me for some time. It wasn't always like that. I've seen several Troma films and for a sliver of my life I would sit and watch dumb movies on netflix.
It may well be because finding a, on some levels, palatable B-movie is one of those truly difficult things to do. It involves sitting through some of the most boring and stupid concepts and ideas put to film, and the list never actually ends. B-Movies are forever, ground deeply into the film industry for life and for as long as everyone in LA has a screenplay for sale. So, for time immemorial.
I've never been one to enjoy the B-film because of its sheer stupidity. This is the reason I reckon as to why this was picked for the club this week. It has all the elements of a B-film that we should laugh and jeer at but instead the film descends into tedium, despite its failed attempts at humor, social satire, horror, crafting a coherent story, and just general filmmaking which should, yes, be risible. But the diagnosis is much more grave than that. It's not so much as laughing at those involved in such a fukkwitted production as it is a gut-wrenching exercise of collaborative lived failure, sweeping from every component of the production, from the actors, the producers, editors, and eventually extending to us, the audience, for consciously giving it the time of day. A rare, indelible consensus of fizzling abjectness and non-achievement.
Random Thoughts:
B-Films are never really all that satisfying to me. Perhaps it is my sense of humor that has ever mutated over the years, or the baggage of experience that I heave into every film that I watch, but the appeal of B-Movies has been lost on me for some time. It wasn't always like that. I've seen several Troma films and for a sliver of my life I would sit and watch dumb movies on netflix.
It may well be because finding a, on some levels, palatable B-movie is one of those truly difficult things to do. It involves sitting through some of the most boring and stupid concepts and ideas put to film, and the list never actually ends. B-Movies are forever, ground deeply into the film industry for life and for as long as everyone in LA has a screenplay for sale. So, for time immemorial.
I've never been one to enjoy the B-film because of its sheer stupidity. This is the reason I reckon as to why this was picked for the club this week. It has all the elements of a B-film that we should laugh and jeer at but instead the film descends into tedium, despite its failed attempts at humor, social satire, horror, crafting a coherent story, and just general filmmaking which should, yes, be risible. But the diagnosis is much more grave than that. It's not so much as laughing at those involved in such a fukkwitted production as it is a gut-wrenching exercise of collaborative lived failure, sweeping from every component of the production, from the actors, the producers, editors, and eventually extending to us, the audience, for consciously giving it the time of day. A rare, indelible consensus of fizzling abjectness and non-achievement.
Random Thoughts:
- The intro montage of all the Uncle Sam's and US jingoism was actually sort of disturbing. The one unsettling thing that this film achieved was nothing they actually filmed, but a montage of pulled newsreels and clips.
- Where the fukk did the crippled kid come from!? And why can he talk to Sam?
- Woof, Robert Forster. Breh better be thanking god that Quentin Tarantino is alive every day he wakes up.
- Woof, Isaac Hayes.
- How long is that fukking potato sack race?
- The killings are what really chap my hide. They're not overly gruesome, nor are they creative at all. Everything is just lukewarm and a bit mehh
. With a B film you gotta go either way, or both. Like it needs to be Final Destination type of creativity or Troma Toxic Avenger gruesomeness. This has neither. It's like the writers put whatever first came to mind. Robert Forster lit up on a fireworks display. No more boring. Impaled by a flag pole. NOPE. Just cut his head off. Nailed it. - Why did the cannonball blow up at the end?
- A favored tactic of B-films is-- and in a way almost acknowledging their boringness--to at least put some t*ts and muff to break up the dullness. This actually also made me angry because we got some struggle titted broad. I literally said in my head, "Oh sweet, t*ts" and we didn't even get that much, just a small flash. You can't be a b-movie and have serious film prudishness or humility.
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my man 
.... cop getting that work from that pot head girl
... ending made sense, thats all you can really ask for... but that explosion was
at the end... idk why but the ending when it shows the boys face in slow mo and then the screen shatters like glass made me jump 
... i wouldnt know how to rate this movie..... b movie at its finest