• The Thing

    The Thing


    Can you imagine how excited John Carpenter must have been when The Thing opened? He was 34 years old, four years out from making his name on a cheapie horror flick, and now his name was above the title on the credits and poster for an honest-to-God Universal monster movie. The same studio that brought us Dracula, Frankenstein, and that fishfucker from the Black Lagoon. He stood to have his name stand alongside the ilk of James Whale and Tod…

  • Dune



    Paul Atwinkeades. Paul Twink 'dib. Kwisatz Twinkerach. I'm sorry, but it's not my fault that Timothee Chalamet looks like he was born with only a chromosome and a half and never was taught the meaning of the words "sandwich," or "pimple," so I'm trying to get it all out of my system up front.

    Dune is one of my favorite science fiction novels, although it has been years since I read it, and it depicts a world I would not…

  • Halloween Kills

    Halloween Kills


    There are a couple of important lessons in the first five minutes of Halloween Kills. The first is, if you want to survive an encounter with nervous cops, move slowly, move calmly, show no alarm, and have the whitest possible face, even if you have to create one.

    The second is, if you are an actor with any ambitions toward resting in peace after you die, get rid of those illusions quick, because your face and your voice will get…

  • Hangman



    Al Pacino has the stroke eye now. That's probably not a great sign.

    This was a blind watch based on the cast - even late day Pacino with his "Your check cleared, so what do you want me to shout at the camera today?" attitude can be fun in the right property, and who doesn't like Karl Urban? We'd hit play on the thing before I Googled and discovered this was directed by Johnny Martin, renowned... checks notes... stunt coordinator…

  • Three Kings

    Three Kings


    Today is my SO's and my twentieth anniversary. The reason it is today, as opposed to about a month, month and a half ago is a long and sordid tale of treachery, betrayal, sleep deprivation, reckless substance abuse, a certain amount of 9/11 involvement, and the vagaries, inbreeding and backstabbing of the Boston comedy community. It is an epic, romantic tale of a well-earned two decades together.

    However, today I had to bring the cat to the vet to get…

  • The Devil's Rain

    The Devil's Rain


    ...or: William Shatner's First Toupee.

    It was a dark and stormy night, when Captain Kirk's mother had a dream that her husband was in trouble. She sends Kirk out into the night to futilely search for him, to no avail, but: good news, everyone! Dad comes home to tell Kirk that his mortal enemy, Ernest Borgnine, wants some Satanic book. Then Dad melts into a puddle of Nickelodeon slime in front of them, which doesn't seem to disturb anyone. Jesus,…

  • Angel



    Just your bog standard underage hooker Dirty Harrying an egg-sucking necrophiliac serial killer story. Shakespeare dined out on garbage like that so often it made the groundlings at the Globe Theater call him a self-plagiarizing hack.

    Molly is an honors student at a high-end Los Angeles prep school, which would make her parents proud if they hadn't each gone out for a pack of cigarettes and forgotten their way home years earlier. Anyway, she pays the rent and her tuition…

  • Running Scared

    Running Scared


    The 1980s were a special time for cop movies. It was a time when, for some reason, movie producers decided that the best people to cast in movies about on-the-edge, rule-breaking cops was comedians. That reason, of course, was cocaine.

    Every time you watched the commercials during Alf, there'd be an ad for Eddie Murphy in 48 Hours, or Chevy Chase in Fletch, or Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop or Dan Aykroyd in Dragnet or John Candy in Armed…

  • In Search of Darkness

    In Search of Darkness


    Boy, there sure were a lot of horror flicks in the 80s, huh?

    A perfectly acceptable talking head / cut to clip from movie / back to talking head / repeat documentary that was perfect background noise for, and occasional welcome distraction from, the long, boring technical document I spent the afternoon writing.

    If you like 80s horror, there'll be something here for you, but at 4 1/2 hours, and a similarly sized sequel, you'd better REALLY like 80s horror, man.

  • For Y'ur Height Only

    For Y'ur Height Only


    There is a bar, off the Strip in Las Vegas, called Frankie's Tiki Room. The place is a dark as midnight in a mine shaft - you literally have to stop inside the door for a minute to let your eyes adjust to the ambient light from the tube TVs behind the bar and the video poker machines so you don't walk into anything. The place is grandfathered, so it's filled with cigarette smoke. It's a great place to spend…

  • Midnight Mass

    Midnight Mass


    This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.

    I've lived in Massachusetts almost my entire life, and I'm telling you this: Midnight, Mass is Gloucester. You know, where George Clooney and Chucklehead Wahlberg set sail from in The Perfect Storm. All the other quaint little villages where a man could pull a living from the sea have been populated with mansions, Mercedes, and old money since 1918.

    Hell, I lived in one of them, Marblehead, for a year and a half, because all the buildings in the old…

  • Motel Hell

    Motel Hell


    I don't want to speak in broad generalizations, but marketing people are hot garbage who should be incinerated with flamethrowers. And not the shitty propane gas flamethrowers like Elon Musk fucks with to pretend he might actually become Iron Man someday, but the good ones that hose wannabes down with napalm, because if a man is gonna pretend he's a messiah, he by-God deserves his own burning bush.

    Jesus, it's too early for me to be coming this unglued this…