Calvaire: You Can Dress Him Up, But You Can't Take Him Out

One of the lesser mentioned films that has come from the warmly received wave of extreme French horror, 2004's Calvaire is a Belgium lensed, character-focused psychological-thriller with a heavy art-house cinema influence. The setting is familiar, with a backdrop that consists of a dreary Belgium countryside that essentially gives you a clear indication of the type of film you're in for - even if it goes in directions that one would not expect. Taking a page from most any horror film set in a secluded rural area, Calvaire (aka The Ordeal) follows an unsuccessful singer for hire, Marc (Laurent Lucas), as he sets out on a road trip to his next gig. Unsurprisingly, Marc runs into some car trouble on the way and is forced to shack up for the evening at a rundown inn owned by a seemingly kind and lonely older man, (ahem) Paul Bartel (Jackie Berroyer).

Over the course of the film (which is actually quite brief with its 83-minute runtime), it's the standard tale of an outsider trying to get where he needs to be, but there just seems to be one obstacle after another preventing this from happening. I'll be getting into some spoiler territory, so feel free to take off if you're not okay with having this one exposed for you. Bartel is the character that, for much of the film, goes back and forth as being the maybe he is, maybe he isn't a creep type of guy. Nevertheless, as soon as it becomes clear that Bartel is shady (which is somewhat far into the film), he goes from slightly odd to full on psycho in the blink of an eye; forcibly enslaving Marc for the sole purpose of him unwillingly becoming the replacement for his wife that had left him long before. 

Throughout the film, Marc is portrayed as a sort of unwilling stud, with old women and nurses throwing themselves at him in the most pathetic of ways. There's really no indication that Marc deserves this attention as he is far from likeable, and I would feel very comfortable in assuming that he is more than likely gay, whether or not it's ever actually alluded to. This carries over to Bartel, who is, as I mentioned, all about Marc, but in a way that is vastly more delusional in that he believes that Marc is actually his wife. It doesn't end there, however, as a character played by the butcher himself, Philippe Nahon, shows up and it is learned that he too believes that Marc is this women that Bartel loves, and guess what? He loves him/her too! 

Meant to be as shocking as it is strange, Calvaire is inflated with a handful of oddities; such as, its off kilter reveal, a bestiality scene (which is a major fucking warning sign, Marc), and this strange dance sequence where a bar full of more than likely inbred men (including Nahon's character) dance what appears to be a drunken, slowed down version of the pogo. The characters have a certain amount of depth to them, but there's never any payoff with anyone as there is nobody that I could even remotely sympathize with. Even Marc, who catches a fair amount of abuse, is such a crybaby bitch-ass that I could do no more than feel disgusted by his lack of strength. Apparently, Bartel is supposed to be the one to feel sorry for, but that works about as good as saying that a Nazi isn't so bad if he has cancer. 

From a weak attempt at black comedy, false subtext, and random religious undertones, Calvaire simply feels like a bunch of shit thrown into a toilet and whatever flushes, flushes. This could be mistaken as horror with flourishes of art, I suppose, but it lacks the correct strokes to give it such weight. What irks me most is that director, Fabrice Du Welz, claims that there are really only two characters in the film: Marc and Bartel. Welz states that the rest of the characters in Calvaire are all some variation of Bartel's madness (remember, everyone LOVES Marc). Thanks for telling me that, director person, because nowhere does this film express this notion, therefore it only exists as an idea that you were not able to portray on screen. Good thing you're here to tell us after the fact, right?

This film is what I would like to call an imposter, a phony – a film that tries to be more than what it is by doing certain things to get certain reactions in the hopes that it will be mistaken for something better than it is. Unfortunately, I had not a single reaction outside of boredom and disdain. Calvaire tries to be different for no other reason than to do so, and I see right through it. You cannot fool me into thinking you're surreal with a random creepy dance sequence (even if the song was bad-ass). Nicolas Winding Refn did that in Bronson, and it worked because that film had what it took to pull off surrealism in a way that doesn't feel false. There is A LOT of talent showcased technically (especially with the fantastic confrontational finale), and yes, there are some interesting ideas here, but in the end, Calvaire leaves no more than a stain created by trying to be too much and the idea that if it's out-there, it's art.   

Something Smells (Cat)fishy Over At Paracinema…

Located somewhere over the rainbow is a magical land known simply as Paracinema, and within this village lies a small tavern owned and operated by yours truly. Every once in a while I like to have a nice little dinner - a feast in which everyone is invited to come over and take part in if they so choose. All that you need to bring is yourself and your appetite. This time around, I have prepared a special dish made up of 2010's questionable documentary, Catfish. This is a meal that I have truly enjoyed creating, nevertheless, if you have never enjoyed a dish such as Catfish, I suggest you take a taste before you head on over. If not, my meal may just 'spoil' your appetite altogether.

Click Da Link!   

Dolly Dearest: No Wire Hangers! Oh, Wait…Wrong Movie

Throughout this annoyingly frigid month, some folks are celebrating black history, others, women in horror, but leave it to the almighty Emily of The Deadly Doll's House of Horror Nonsense to take the month of February and add her own 'little' twist to it. With - as Emily puts it - February being a short month, she has focused all 28 days of February to villains that are less than five feet tall. Vertically challenged villains, if you will. Dolls, killer kids, midgets…heck, even people without legs aren't safe from the sting of Emily's always-wonderful reviews. Along with her focus on tiny terrors, Emily was gracious enough to invite anyone and everyone to take part in this celebration, which is exactly what I'm doing here, with 1992's killer doll classic (well…), Dolly Dearest.

Directed by Maria Lease - whose other directorial credit belongs to that of the saucy TV series, Silk Stalkings, if that tells you anything - Dolly Dearest follows a toy manufacture and his family who move to Mexico so he can mass-produce the hottest toy since the Cabbage Patch Kids: Dolly Dearest. As soon as his young daughter, Jessica (Candace Hutson), lays her eyes on one of the dolls her father will produce (at his Mexican sweatshop) she falls in love and must have one immediately. Of course, her father gives Jessica a Dolly Dearest of her own but, little does he know, the torture porn toy factory is located right next to a Mayan tomb that, after being opened by an archeologist, released the evil spirit Sanzia (aka SATAN!) whom has taken refuge in….wait for it…the Dolly Dearest toys! 

As opposed to Child's Play's protagonist, Andy, who becomes fearful of his killer doll, Chucky, Jessica's relationship with Dolly Dearest is a little more possessive; as in, Dolly slowly turns Jessica into an evil accomplice. A bad best buddy, if you will. While there could easily be a ton of comparisons to Child's Play, the films really share no more than the idea of a killer doll. Which is a big idea, sure, but that's beside the point. Dolly Dearest focuses less on Dolly herself and more on Jessica's sudden burst of poor behavior (and how it affects her family, specifically her mother), where she begins to act erratically and violently toward anyone that would dare to separate her from her new best friend. She lashes out at her mother constantly (played by Denise Crosby, in her greasiest of roles), attacks the religious Mexican maid - or slave, as some call it - and draws violent images…with crayons, naturally. 

Candace Hutson, who plays Jessica, is fun to watch and actually quite adorable in a welfare Drew Barrymore sort of way. She puts out a nice over-the-top performance, while sometimes even coming off as somewhat creepy when she 'acts out' to the people around her. Also creepy is Dolly Dearest herself, who, specifically in 'normal' doll form, is unpleasant enough to give most any kid a doll phobia. In fact, as a normal doll, Dolly Dearest is probably most effective when she does little more than turn her head or moves her eyes slightly, as that is something that seems a little more plausible from an inanimate object such as a doll. That's not to take away from Dolly Dearest in full on 'I have an old face' killer doll mode, which is quite wonderful in its own way, just not as unsettling as what could be contemplated as real.    

Going into what is essentially a direct-to-video killer doll film, I would expect no more than the normal amount of cheese and incompetence from this movie, however, Dolly Dearest really isn't as cheap as one would expect (or as many would claim it to be). Not to say this is a great film on any level, but it has a decent cast (that includes Rip Torn!), it's made competently enough and you can tell that the filmmakers were trying to make a solid scary movie that could step out of Childs Play's shadow, all while benefiting from its popularity. Nevertheless, good intentions don't always result in good films and Dolly Dearest fails in more ways than it succeeds.

Dolly Dearest suffers from a serious illness, an illness best known as being boring. Not completely, but mostly, which is more than too much for me to be okay with. One major issue is this film falls very short in the death department. In fact, I think there are no more than three, maybe four, kills all together. Moreover, with that comes a lack of Dolly's presence (who was played by Ed Gale), which was great when she was around, but her screen time was far too little for a character that could have been pure gold. What it comes down to is, it's not quite good enough to be good, and it's not quite bad enough to be good, either. Therefore, what you are left with is a middle of the road, doll driven Slasher film that tries too hard to be good and loses what it could have been, entertaining.  

Chuck Norris Gets All Up In Your Ears!

*For the record, that is the greatest image ever*

I was very recently asked to take part in an episode of The Lair of the Unwanted, a monthly podcast put on by Jason from Invasion of the B Movies and Nolahn of Bargain Bin Review. Now, why in the hell would anyone ever want to talk to me about anything? Well, they just so happened to be doing an episode dedicated to the one and only Chuck Norris, so by blog name default, I was asked to join in on the bearded convo. The films covered are Breaker! Breaker!, Slaughter in San Francisco (aka Karate Cop!) and, the cream of the Chuck Norris crop, Lone Wolf McQuade!

I had a heck of a time taking part in this special Norris themed episode, as the conversation was quite exhilarating as was the subject matter. It didn't hurt that both Nolahn and Jason are two cool cats that have a true appreciation for some of the finer things in bad cinema. So, if you'd like to hear a sometimes muffled me mumble too close to my mic, do an imitation of Carrie from Sex and the City, or hear a lame joke about how Chuck Norris inadvertently freed the slaves, then click that play button below for crying out loud!

Black Belt Jones: Man, You Come Right Out of A Comic Book

Pitting a karate school against the mob, Black Belt Jones is the classic tale of the big guy bullying the little guy, all in the name of greed. In this case, it's the mob forcing their lower-level "associates," Pinky and his gang of thugs, to push out a local karate school so they can profit off a future land redevelopment. When Pinky and his boys go a little too far with their pushing and the karate school's owner is accidentally killed, one time student turned government agent, Black Belt Jones gets involved. And boy is he someone that you do not want to get involved with. Unless you're a lady, that is.    

Taking full advantage of the popularity of Blaxploitation movies, as well as the boom in Martial Art's films, 1974's Black Belt Jones is a culmination of its own era's popular genre cinema. The film stars the great Jim "the Dragon" Kelly, who, hot off of 1973's Enter the Dragon, was the perfect person to center a film that would take from both the popularity of Enter the Dragon, as well as his own character in that film, Williams, who was a representation of Blaxploitation cinema meant to reach a larger demographic. So, there you have it, the circle of cinematic life thanks to Black Belt Jones and Enter the Dragon.  

Black Belt Jones' connection to Enter the Dragon goes further as both films share the same director, Robert Clouse, who, besides directing both Kelly and Bruce Lee, has also directed Jackie Chan in The Big Brawl, and even the first few Cynthia Rothrock China O'Brien films. So he certainly has some solid action genre cred under his (black) belt, but I wouldn't say that Black Belt Jones is anything to marvel at on a serious action level. It's all pretty standard over-the-top stuff that places a much larger focus on fun than it does realistic hard-hitting action.    

There's a certain charm filled swagger that Black Belt Jones carries, which comes from the character, as well as the film and how it presents itself. It's very light and goofy and avoids some of the darker trappings that would be found in many Blaxploitation films. The racism level in the movie is very low, to the point where even the police officers seem to be smitten by just how cool Jones is, as opposed to being of the oppressive variety. Even the incredibly stereotypical Italian mobsters, who are the film's main antagonists, are silly (outside of the intimidating Mel Novak) in an almost parodic way. I love me a dark grimy Exploitation film, but it's nice to have one that isn't just mean spirited for the sake of exploitation.

What makes Black Belt Jones such an enjoyable ride is how much fun everyone seems to be having in the film. The interactions between certain characters are quite delightful and a lot of that has to do with Kelly's presence. He has such a great look, with that huge afro standing on top of his tall, lanky frame with that sullen look on his face. A sullen look that, in a heartbeat, can switch to the most natural and charismatic of smiles. He might not be the best actor on the block, but he can do what needs to be done physically, he has charm and, most importantly, a great presence.

Some might point to the movie as being a "so bad it's good" type of film, but I believe that people confuse the purposeful humor with cheese-lathered incompetence. Black Belt Jones is exactly what it was meant to be, fun. Black Belt Jones is supposed to be a good time, and it shows in scenes where the karate school students (in complete karate gi uniform, of course) are seen doing synchronized martial art's moves at a funeral. Or, having Gloria Hendry run around open handed karate chopping bad dudes, yelling HI-YA!, like it's no one's business. Moreover, how serious is any film trying to be when they cast Scatman Crothers as a karate master?!

Black Belt Jones is a film that, in a way, has an innocence about it and could play perfectly to most any crowd that's open to having a good time. In that sense, it reminds me a lot of 1985's The Last Dragon with its tone, its sense of humor, and comic book feel. Not to say that Black Belt Jones is as wonderful as The Last Dragon, but it hits the right notes and stands on its own as a different type of Blaxploitation film. From the moment Dennis Coffey's wonderful main theme song funks up your ear drums; down to the bubble bath final fight at the carwash, you are sure to be smiling throughout much of Black Belt Jones.

Paracinema's One-Two Punch and the Urban Warriors Come Out to Play-ayyy!

Holy poop, it's already time for a new issue of Paracinema, and the great minds behind this AWARD NOMINATED magazine have pumped out what looks to be their best issue yet (starting with that dope cover!). Dubbed The Women's Issue, issue #11 has been dedicated to fairer sex by having the entire magazine written solely by women. While I am fearful that at least one of these fine ladies will bring up their period, I'm willing to take the chance as there are some fantastic writers (and good friends) involved with equally wonderful subjects that are to be covered. Take a look below for a sneak peek at what's in store…

Demystifying Superwoman: Shifty Gender Roles, Hysterical Moms, & Pissed Off Daughters in The Exorcist

by Ashlee Blackwell

Frankenhooker: Titular Commodification of Women

by Lisa Cunningham

Rape-Revenge Films: A Guide for the Faint-Hearted

by Chelsea Suarez

The Degrading Last Days of Laura Palmer: A Backwards Glance at Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me

by Christine Hadden

Spiritual Viagra (How a Mummy in Cowboy Boots Gave Elvis a Hard-On)

by Molly Marie Griffin

Mental Illness in Horror Films: Lifting the Stigma with Let’s Scare Jessica to Death

by Andre Dumas

Yowza! And that's only the beginning! So head on over to Paracinema to preorder that shit asap, or I'll pee in your sink. Again.

While we're on the subject of Paracinema, the magazine has been nominated for an award, a Rondo award for best magazine, to be exact. This is great news, and I wanted take a moment to send a huge congrats to two of my favorite people, Dylan and Christine, for their nomination. It's good to see such hard working people with an intense passion and respect for cinema receive some recognition. Paracinema keeps it real, filtering out all the bullshit that's to be found in most other genre magazines, and for that I truly believe they deserve this. If you would like to vote in this year's Rondo awards, click away, and please, feel free to vote for Paracinema, because they believe in freedom!

CLICK DA LINK!

And finally, it's time to talk about me, which is nothing short of a pleasure as I do love me some me. Over at The Gentlemen's Blog to Midnite Cinema, I just posted up a review for the Italian Post-Apocalyptic flick, Urban Warriors. So, if you don't mind, head on over to theGBTMC to give it a looksee. Do it for Dudikoff because he would expect nothing less, and he too believes in freedom!

CLICK DA LINK!

Love Makes People Do the Craziest of Things…

Happy Valentine's Day, creeps!